The Dragon Princess: Sleeping Beauty Reimagined (The Forgotten Kingdom Book 1) Read online

  The note trembled in my mother’s hands.

  I snatched the paper from her grasp and read it myself.

  “Elisa, no!” she yelled.

  I walked to the side of the room and looked down at the note. It was the curse, but at the bottom was a section I’d never heard before.

  A curse upon her head, I place,

  that all will see her truest face.

  The rage of a dragon shall grow inside,

  until the truth, she can no longer hide.

  When she reaches her eighteenth year,

  her destiny will be made clear.

  She will hear the dragon’s call,

  then she will come and destroy you all.

  But if a rose shall prick her finger,

  the spell will no longer linger.

  She will have a decision to make,

  and the kingdom of Griswil will be at stake.

  “Elisa, darling,” I heard my mother say.

  “Is this another part of the curse?” I wheeled around. “Or is this the cure we’ve been searching for all along?”

  Mother’s face paled, and my father slowly rose to his feet, but I didn’t move my attention to him.

  “What does it mean?” I demanded. “The spell will no longer linger?”

  “Selina is playing games with you,” Father said.

  I finally looked at him. “Have you heard this before?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re referring to. I can’t see the paper.” He held his hand out, and I reluctantly took a few steps forward to hand it over.

  My heart pounded so hard I could feel the pain in my throat, and more than once I rubbed my hands on my dress. “A rose? A prick of a rose?” I asked once I was certain he’d had time to read it. “There are no roses in Griswil, right? Do we need to find one?”

  Father handed the parchment back to my mother, and they exchanged a look I couldn’t read.

  Mother gave a slight shake of her head and folded the poem in half. “It’s your birthday. Let’s not worry about this.” With three steps, she was beside the fireplace.

  “Don’t,” I snapped. My voice sounded … stronger. More demanding. “That’s mine. Selina sent it for me.”

  “It’s nonsense,” Mother said. “Just something to get you riled. It’s bad enough she’s killed the last of the faeries.” She flicked her hand, and the paper landed on top of the flames, which instantly seized upon the paper and burned it. “As I was saying earlier about this guest. I think it’s time we discuss other options to hold your dragon curse at bay.”

  My eyesight grew red, and my nails bit into the palms of my hands.

  “Your father and I have spoken about this a lot, and we both feel this is the best option.”

  I let out a growl from deep in my chest, and then a roar so loud the china on the table rattled. My father sprinted around to my side of the table, only to grab hold of my sisters and drag them away before I swooped my arm across the table. The china hit the stone floor and shattered. I rose to my feet and tore the room apart. The anger made my hands hot. Wood cracked, a window exploded, and finally I flung the entire table on its side.

  “Elisa, breathe,” my father’s voice said, penetrating my blind anger. “Remember? Don’t give in.”

  His voice was so calm and out of place from the rage in my mind. I faced him and saw my sisters clinging to his side, their blue eyes filled with panicked tears. I realized my father had his hand out toward me. No, it was stretched toward someone behind me. I turned and saw soldiers in the doorway with their swords drawn. He was telling them to wait.

  I swallowed hard, the sensation cooling my burning throat. The heat of the dragon anger heated me from the inside as though I had a fever, but this was an illness with no easy antidote. I drew several deep breaths, through my nose and out of my mouth. As a child, I had a short temper and my father taught me to count to ten. But I’d never had a tantrum like this.

  I collapsed to my knees. My body trembled, and tears rolled down my flushed cheeks.

  My father’s stance relaxed, and he softly said, “Everything is fine. Go about your duties.”

  Marigold reached me first and threw her arms around my neck. I clutched her, sobbing into her small shoulder.

  The last fae had been killed.

  The faeries were the only hope I’d had of being saved from my curse. They were the ones who had arrived with a gift—a promise that one of them would rescue me from Selina’s curse. They never said how they would save me. But Selina had made sure their promise would never come to pass. And with that teasing last phrase about a rose and the spell lingering … There was a part of my curse I didn’t know, and now it had been destroyed.

  The reality was that, in twelve months, I would be a dragon. It weighed on my chest heavier than anything else.

  “Elisa, stop this nonsense,” my mother scolded. “Princesses don’t cry, and a princess certainly never shows her anger.”

  “Mother …” Dahlia’s voice said softly.

  I reluctantly pulled back from Marigold. Something about Dahlia’s voice drew my attention to her. She stared at me but hadn’t come any closer. She hadn’t tried to hug me as Marigold had. I reached up and wiped at my tears with rough fingers and took a big breath to suppress my emotions.

  I gave Dahlia the biggest smile I could muster. “I’ll be okay. It was just a fit of anger.”

  Her eyes were locked on my hands.

  I lowered my gaze and found black scales covering my hands from fingertip to wrist. I gasped and recoiled from Marigold. I turned my hands over again and again. The palms of my hands had much smaller scales than those that had grown on the back, and my nails were black. I curled my fingers, expecting them to feel tight like gloves, but the scales moved without any friction.

  Scales.

  The transformation had begun.

  I quickly climbed to my feet, my stomach churning, and assessed the damage in the dining hall. My mouth dried. Shards of white china, painted with spring flowers and green and yellow leaves, lay about the floor like an unsolvable jigsaw. My mother had proudly used them for special occasions since I was a child. Not one dish had survived my fit of anger. They had been a wedding gift from the queen of Zelig.

  The cracking wood I’d heard had been the chairs. Most of the backs and legs were now broken beyond repair. The table didn’t appear to be damaged. Then I saw the marks on the wood.

  Claw marks.

  Bile of panic rose in the back of my throat. I’d thrown the biggest tantrum of my life and destroyed the entire dining hall. Now I didn’t know what to do. Dahlia and Marigold clearly didn’t want to be near me at that moment. Father was still standing protectively in front of them, and Mother had her back pressed against the wall. Neither of them seemed to know what to do either.

  “I … should go. I’m … not feeling well.” I curtsied and then ran from the room.

  Three

  The sun warmed my back as I sat hunched forward on the bench in my little garden. This tiny garden on the western side of the castle had been mine since I first found it as a child. I used to ask for different plants to add to it, and now it was a thriving, magical place in spite of the high, curved wall around me.

  I had no tears left to cry.

  I felt numb with the realization I was indeed cursed. It was no longer something my parents told me. Sending scouts to find the cure had been part of life, being disappointed no fae were found just another piece to that, but now I knew I had a dragon waiting inside. The reality of my curse and lack of help sat heavily on my chest.

  This I didn’t want to accept.

  I wished in my heart Dahlia or Marigold would come and comfort me. More than likely, they were still afraid, or Mother could have refused them to come to me.

  I massaged my forehead whe
re a small headache had begun festering.

  The hinges of the wooden door groaned behind me, and I looked over my shoulder to see who it was. To my surprise, it was my mother. She’d never come to my secret place.

  I found myself straightening and on my feet facing her in an instant. I hid my hideous hands behind my back. “Yes?”

  “Your father and I want you to remember that, although some unfortunate events have happened today, it is still your birthday.” Her voice was tight. She tried to keep her eyes on my face. It was all she could do to not look down at my arms and assess the scales, but I caught her gaze drift before it would snap back to my face. “You’ve been alone long enough. Hopefully you’ve got the tears out of your system. Your sisters are waiting by the stables to go on a horse ride and picnic.” She gestured with her left hand.

  “The crown princess doesn’t cry,” a voice in my head chided.

  I bowed my head to her. “Certainly.” I waited for her to plaster on a smile and step back.

  Only, as I went to step past her, she held out her hand. Hanging from it was a pair of black, elbow-length gloves.

  I didn’t need her to tell me to take them. “Thank you, Mother.” I felt obligated to say it even though embarrassment burned at my cheeks. I didn’t look at her as I tugged the gloves over my new scales.

  If these changes continued, would she eventually have me wear a dress to the floor and a veil to hide the monster I’d become?

  I left my sanctuary and fell into a quick pace through the hallways, past the kitchen, and out the back door to the path that led to the stables. Philip, the stable boy, already had three horses saddled and ready. I’d always been fond of Philip. He was handsome and kind with dirt-brown hair and dark-brown eyes.

  Dahlia and Marigold joyfully chatted as they stroked the eager horses’ velvet noses while feeding them apples.

  I fiddled with the fingertips of the gloves. I worried about how they would react. I could pretend nothing had happened, or I could apologize for terrifying them.

  I barely got my mouth open before Philip greeted me. “Happy birthday, Your Highness. Your sisters told me you get to go on a ride today.” When I didn’t return his smile immediately, his own fell. “You’re not excited?”

  “No, of course I am,” I scrambled to put on a smile. “I was just distracted. May I?” I held my hand out for the reins of the horse.

  Philip handed them over. “This is Tao. He’s my favorite. You’ve ridden him before.”

  I reached up and stroked Tao’s nose with my gloved hand. “I remember him. He’s rather charming.”

  He didn’t seem bothered that a part of me had changed that day, and I would never be the same again. His big eyes almost looked empathetic as he nudged my hand and then arm.

  “He’s looking for a treat,” Philip laughed. He reached into his pocket and produced a handful of grain, which he put in my free hand.

  Even though Tao nibbled it, he leaned his head forward yet again and put his chin on my shoulder. He let out a soft snort.

  I looked at his large eye and couldn’t help but think he was comforting me.

  My throat tightened. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  I hugged his neck and shared a moment of connection. Too many people thought animals weren’t intelligent. I’d never felt that way, and this moment only confirmed my theory.

  “Are you coming with us?” I asked, looking over at Philip before walking to Tao’s side to climb up on the saddle. “You did last year.”

  Philip rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I have a lot of chores today preparing for the birthday guests.”

  “Oh please!” Marigold jumped in. “It would be fun to have you.”

  “We aren’t going far,” Dahlia added. “Just the meadow down by the waterfall.”

  He shrugged. “I can ask.”

  As soon as Philip was out of sight, Dahlia leaned over to me. “Can I see them?” she whispered a little too loudly.

  I shifted my gaze from her to Marigold. “You actually want to see? After frightening you earlier?”

  “We don’t care. I want to see too!” Marigold leaned to see past Dahlia.

  “You aren’t worried?” I asked, completely stunned.

  Dahlia reached across the short distance between us and grabbed my arm. “Elisa, you’re still our sister. If you turn into a dragon later, oh well. We’ll figure it out then.”

  I hugged her.

  Tao shifted his stance, and I squealed as I was pulled away from Dahlia and off-center on the saddle. Philip rushed over, but I managed to let go of Dahlia and right myself before he could help.

  “You should be more careful, Your Highness,” Philip said, heaving a sigh of relief. “Horses can be dangerous.”

  My cheeks flushed, and I fiddled with my braid. “Thank you.”

  “We haven’t got all day!” Marigold complained. She nudged her horse into a walk. “Come on!”

  “I won’t be able to come,” Philip said, patting Tao’s neck. “There’s too much work here. You have fun with your sisters.” He bowed at the waist as he stepped back.

  My heart dropped a bit. “Thank you for preparing the horses.”

  “Wait up!” Dahlia called after Marigold. “Hurry, Elisa!”

  The ride to the waterfall could have taken all day and I would have been satisfied just being out of the castle walls. The canopy of leaves overhead filtered green and yellow light, creating a sun-splotched painting on the path. Birds chirped happily in a nearby tree, answered by another farther ahead in a short burst of trills. I watched two butterflies dance around each other, their black and white wings flittering silently over the flower-lined path. I drew a deep breath, savoring the smells of the forest. I could almost taste the rustic pine, sweet yellow honeysuckle, lush grass, and even the dirt. Bright orange and red poppies stood like soldiers on the right side of the path, their dark centers like helmets bowing to the princesses as they traveled to their destination.

  The air grew more humid shortly before I heard and smelled the fresh water of the river and, a few minutes later, the waterfall rumbling in the distance.

  “We’re almost there!” Marigold announced.

  “I’ll beat you!” Delia challenged. She nudged her horse into a gallop.

  “Hey, no fair! You got a head start!” Marigold took off after.

  I didn’t trust myself to burst into a gallop, but I gently struck Tao’s sides with my heels, prodding him into a gentle trot. By the time I reached the clearing, Dahlia and Marigold were arguing over who won. I pulled Tao to a halt and slid off the saddle.

  “You both win,” I interjected.

  My sisters turned to me.

  Marigold had her small hands planted firmly on her hips. “I clearly won.”

  “I came last, so you both win. Help me set out our lunch.”

  Dahlia was the first off her horse and flipped open one of the saddlebags. She withdrew a blanket, and I took the opposite end so we could lay it down flat. Meanwhile, Marigold began taking cloth-wrapped food out and set them down on the center of the blanket.

  “Oh yummy! Pecan pie!” Marigold excitedly held up the tins of individual pies.

  “You shouldn’t eat dessert first,” Dahlia instructed. “We should eat our sandwiches first.”

  Marigold looked at me, her nose wrinkled.

  I laughed. “It’s my birthday. I say we have pie first.”

  We sat down around the food, and Marigold handed out the pies. Abby, the cook, must have known we would go on a ride today. She made the best pecan pie with just enough sweet and just enough pecans and just enough crust. The filling melted in my mouth, and the soft crunch of the pecans was the perfect accent.

  “You should have seen your face when you destroyed the dining room this morning,” Marigold said casually. “Your eyes were li
ke glowing red.”

  I glanced at Dahlia.

  She nodded. “It’s true.” She licked her thumb. “It was a little bit scary.”

  I unwrapped the crackers and opened the jars of filling: imported fish from Terricina or chicken with sundried tomatoes. “I really didn’t mean to. The news that the faeries were gone for good, and that letter showing up … I lost it. What if that last phrase really was a cure? What if I’m supposed to find a rose?”

  “I think Mother was right. Surely, if you prick your thumb on a thorn, something bad will happen,” Dahlia said. “Why else would Selina have left it for you to find?”

  I spread some chicken on my cracker and took a bite. “But what if it wasn’t?”

  “But Mother wouldn’t have burned it if it were a cure,” Dahlia argued.

  I nodded.

  Marigold grabbed the jar with the fish and began loading up her crackers.

  As we ate, I looked around the gentle slopes of the earth covered in vibrant green bushes, small pink and yellow flowers, and spotted with larger white ones now and then. The long necks of aspen trees rose above the pine trees, and we sat under one of the large maple trees ready to be tapped for syrup.

  “Look,” I whispered and pointed to the riverbank. A small brown rabbit with stark white feet lazily hopped to the river’s edge to get a drink.

  Marigold pulled her knees to her chest and covered her mouth as she giggled. “He’s so cute!”

  Being in the woods with my sisters was the best birthday present I could have ever asked for.

  “Can we swim?” Marigold asked. She was already on her feet, unlacing the back of her dress.

  I glanced at the gloves covering my hands and slowly pulled them off. “If this is my last birthday with you, let’s make it count.”

  I jumped to my feet and helped Marigold pull her dress off. Dahlia helped me while Marigold helped her. Soon, the three of us were in nothing but our underclothing, and we ran down the grassy slope and into the icy river.

  It was barely high enough to reach Dahlia’s waist, and the current was lazy enough I didn’t feel concerned at all as we swam and splashed around. I didn’t care what our mother would say when we returned home sopping wet. It was my birthday, and I was going to enjoy every moment with my sisters.