by Wendy Mass
Mumford winks and hurries away.
Our second kiss, while it doesn’t transform me from beast to boy, is just as sweet as the first.
The castle grounds glow with the full bloom of spring. The queen has outdone herself in preparation for the wedding. Maypole streamers whirl in the breeze while kids from all over the kingdom duck underneath, laughing with delight. Tables dot the lawn, draped with the finest silk cloth in every color of the rainbow. Familiar faces stand in groups, sipping wine and nibbling treats off of solid silver plates. I cannot help but be filled with joy as I take it all in.
The band members tune their instruments as the carriage I had been waiting for pulls up alongside the great lawn. Clarissa comes bounding out of it, even before the horse has come to a full stop.
“You look so beautiful!” she says, admiring my long dress and my hair tied up with ribbons. “You have truly grown into your name!” I feel a bit like a child playing dress-up, but today it feels right.
Even though Clarissa and I have seen each other a few times since Riley was de-beasted, we are always thrilled to see each other again. Both of us have changed so much since our house burned down, and soon she and Papa will be moving to one of the guest houses on the castle grounds. I will keep my pink room, although the queen promised to tone down the color a bit.
“Is he here yet?” Clarissa asks, bouncing on her toes.
I nod. “He is inside with his family.”
She shakes her head and points toward the rose garden. “I believe he has escaped!”
I turn around, and sure enough, the groom is bounding toward us. “You are not supposed to be out here,” Clarissa teases.
“I know,” Handsome says, looking over his shoulder. “But the queen is making me too nervous. Why did I agree to this again? My father says if I laugh during the ceremony, it will be spoken about for years!”
“You are doing this because Riley’s mother wanted an excuse to throw a big party at the castle,” I remind him. “And because your lovely bride agreed and because you love her.”
“Right!” he says. “Keep reminding me of that if I laugh when I am supposed to be saying a vow.”
“Suzy would forgive you,” I assure him, straightening his jacket. “You have a wonderful laugh.”
“And so do you,” Riley says, coming up behind me and taking my hand in his. Even though more than two months have passed since the curse was broken, holding his hand without a huge glove between us still feels wonderful. I turn to smile at him as Clarissa rolls her eyes at my show of affection. She takes much pleasure in reminding me that it was I who did not believe in love. Alexander ducks away from a group of his friends to join us. He is never far away when Clarissa visits. It is comical to watch how hard he tries to impress her. There would not likely be a better-looking couple in all the seven kingdoms if he were to win her heart, but she is not making it easy for him.
Young Freddy joins our little group, tugging at the tight collar of his fancy shirt. “King Rubin’s carriage is approaching. Will you come with me?” I allow him to drag me over to the path where the royal coach is pulling up. I know he is excited to show the king how much he has grown up since living at his castle as a young boy.
King Rubin’s coach is flanked on all sides by knights in full dress. This must purely be for ceremonial reasons, since there is little threat of attack these days. The knight on the largest horse gets off and opens the door of the carriage. While a small crowd has gathered to watch the royal couple descend the carriage stairs, my attention is focused on the knight.
“Mumford!” I cry out, not caring that it is improper for a girl my age to shout over the heads of a king and queen. Yet I cannot help it. I run to his side. “’Tis wonderful to see you! But what are you doing here?”
He laughs and hugs me hello. This overly friendly greeting causes a few of the onlookers to sniff disapprovingly, but Mumford does not seem to care, either. “How could I miss the social event of the season?”
Riley had suspected there was more to Mumford than met the eye. I should have known from his bravery and quick thinking that he was a knight. I laugh and hug him again. It is only when I pull away that I notice Freddy has grown deathly white.
I reach for the boy’s arm, afraid he is about to faint. Perhaps the crowd is too much for him. “Are you all right, Freddy?”
He shows no reaction to my words, only continues to stare straight ahead, straight at Mumford. Mumford returns the boy’s gaze, then gasps and falls to his knees. “Son? Is it truly you?”
“Father?” Freddy whispers, his lips still mostly frozen. “You live?”
I stare back and forth between them. What wonderful fortune is this! One of the other knights takes over the duty of escorting the royal couple onto the lawn.
“Oh, Freddy!” Mumford scoops Freddy into his arms and swings him around and around until Freddy says, “Stop, I may toss my lunch!” They both laugh, and Mumford sets him back down onto the grass.
“How you’ve grown these six years!”
Freddy stares up at his father again. “But, Father, where have you been?”
Mumford glances at me. I lay my hand gently on Freddy’s shoulder. “Remember I told you about the man who helped Riley and me at the witch’s compound?”
He nods.
“That was your father. Only we didn’t know it, of course.”
Freddy’s eyes widen even further. “You were … a pig?”
His father nods solemnly. “I missed you every day.”
Freddy starts to laugh. And cry. Then Mumford joins in.
“Well,” I say, grinning and lifting my long skirts from the ground. “I see you two have a lot of catching up to do!” I do not think they even notice as I make my way back to the garden, trying not to trip in these unnecessarily tall-heeled shoes. I can see Veronica by the dessert table, holding up her stone and examining each ant that approaches the small cakes. When we were leaving the witch’s compound it had occurred to me that the stone would reveal the true identity of the animals. That cat that the witch ran off with? A fat old man with three hairs on his shiny head. No wonder he had wanted to remain a cat! Now that Veronica knows the truth about what happened to her mother, she spends a lot of her time crawling on the ground.
Veronica grins when she sees me, and lets the necklace fall back against her pretty green dress. I have wanted to ask her something ever since I learned of the stone’s power. This is as good a time as any. I pull her aside, out of earshot of the crowd now gathering around the sweets. “May I ask you something?”
“Of course,” Veronica says, reaching around me to stuff a small almond cake in her mouth.
“Do you remember when you lent me your necklace, before my journey to the castle?”
She swallows and nods.
“Your expression changed when you looked through it as you placed it over my head. I have been curious … what did you see?”
She leans close to whisper in my ear. “I saw a princess.”
I blush in response to her words. A few months ago I’d have said a princess was the last thing I ever thought I’d be.
“And there is your beast,” Veronica says, nudging me and pointing to Riley. “I mean, your prince.”
Riley walks toward us, a long-stemmed red rose held out before him. Veronica slips away as he approaches.
“This is long overdue,” he says, handing me the rose.
I chuckle. “If my father hadn’t picked that first rose, we never would have met.”
“Well,” he says, drawing out the word and staring a little off to the right. “That may not be entirely true.”
I lower the flower and look over it at him. “What do you mean?”
“Um, it’s a long story,” he says, still avoiding my eyes, “and includes some questionable actions on my family’s part. But it will have to wait, for we have a wedding to attend.”
Before I can argue, he grabs my hand and pulls me toward where the crowd is indeed ga
thering for the ceremony. I almost fall flat on my face when a heel gets caught between two cobblestones. If I’m going to be a princess, I’m definitely not going to be the type of princess to wear high-heeled shoes and pink dresses with white ribbons in my hair. I’m going to be the type of princess who helps her prince measure the life span of worms and who’s not afraid to get dirt under her fingernails. After all, my husband’s going to be a great scientist. Someone’s got to keep him from blowing himself up along the way. Might as well be me.
Riley stops short, bends to kiss an ant, and shakes his head. “Not this time.”
I smile. Yup. Might as well be me.
Wendy Mass is the author of award-winning books for young readers, including 11 Birthdays, Finally, 13 Gifts, the Twice Upon a Time series, including Rapunzel, The One with All the Hair; and Sleeping Beauty, The One Who Took the Really Long Nap; as well as A Mango-Shaped Space, Jeremy Fink and the Meaning of Life, Heaven Looks a Lot Like the Mall, Leap Day, Every Soul a Star, and The Candymakers. She lives with her family in New Jersey.
Copyright © 2012 by Wendy Mass
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SCHOLASTIC PRESS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available
First edition, June 2012
Cover photograph © by Michael Frost
Cover design by Yaffa Jaskoll
e-ISBN 978-0-545-44314-2
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