The Princess: A Collection of Royal Tales: A Chipper Press Anthology

By Chipper Press, CJ Dotson and D. C. Dubs

The Princess

A Collection of Royal Tales

A Chipper Press Anthology

In The Princess, young royals discover that being a princess is about so much more than wearing a tiara and attending etiquette lessons. Follow fourteen future rulers as they try to come to terms with who they are inside and who others wan

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zimbell House Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Jul 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781643901923

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The Princess

A Collection of

Royal Tales

A Chipper Press Anthology

A picture containing drawing Description automatically generated

Union Lake, Michigan

THIS BOOK IS A WORK of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. All characters appearing in this work are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the written permission of the publisher.

For permission requests, write to the publisher

Attention: Permissions Coordinator

Chipper Press

PO Box 1172

Union Lake, Michigan 48387

mail to: [e-mail]

© 2020 Chipper Press, et al.

Published in the United States by Chipper Press

An imprint of Zimbell House Publishing

All Rights Reserved

Trade Paper ISBN: 978-1-64390-190-9

.mobi ISBN: 978-1-64390-191-6

ePub ISBN: 978-1-64390-192-3

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020941823

First Edition: July 2020

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Chipper Press

Union Lake, Michigan

Acknowledgments

CHIPPER PRESS WOULD like to thank all those that contributed to this anthology. We chose to show-case thirteen new voices that best represented our vision for this work.

We would also like to thank our Chipper Press team for all their hard work and dedication to these projects.

A Tale of Two Kingdoms

Kathryn Sadakierski

P rincess Adela, if you keep snacking on all of our class materials, we’re never going to finish your math lesson!

It’s a fractions lesson. How better to live it out than by eating chocolate? See, there’s still half left! You just wanted to make sure there’d be enough left for you!

I had a feeling Professor Aloysius was starting to regret using chocolate pieces to teach fractions. Had he really expected that I’d just ignore them, cutting the candies into smaller and smaller halves without even sampling a tiny bit? I was applying my learning, after all!

Professor Aloysius frowned. I could tell he was worrying again, nervously pulling at his peppery beard. Its hairs crackled in all directions like they’d been electrified. He hadn’t agreed with my reasoning about chocolate and fractions lessons, apparently. I could tell I was in for a lecture now.

Princess Adela, as a future queen, you are called to be obedient. A queen does what is best for her people, following the royal law. That means that you cannot act impulsively, doing whatever you fancy! As your tutor, it is my responsibility to teach you this. Now, you simply must stay focused on your lesson! What would the king say if he saw your behavior?

Father had never been known to resist chocolate, either. He’d say I have good taste, and wouldn’t blame me, I insisted.

Professor Aloysius shook his head. Either way, there isn’t time for this dillydallying! You have an etiquette lesson at twelve o’clock, and deportment at one o’clock. Diplomacy is at two-thirty sharp. We’re already two minutes behind schedule, according to my watch! How will we ever catch up?

I sighed, propping my head on my fist so that it wouldn’t droop forward if I started to doze during this lesson. I gazed out the library window drowsily. The sound of the ocean waves outside of the window was like the rhythm of a lullaby, so soft and sweet that it could rock me to sleep. It was such a bright, warm spring day that I wished I could be out in the gardens enjoying it, smelling all of the flowers blooming. All of the gardeners and I had planted tulips, hyacinths, camellias, and primroses, which were all finally blossoming. It had been so difficult to be patient, waiting for them to grow, and now it seemed like I was waiting even longer to go see all of our hard work come alive since I was indoors, working on math problems.

All of my lessons were getting more unbearable these days. At only eleven years old, I couldn’t imagine what it would be like when I got to college! Etiquette and deportment classes challenged me the most. I loathed balancing books on my head to work on my posture or arranging silverware at place settings. Was it the fork that guarded the spoon? How did the order go again? Anyway, how would knowing that prepare me to lead my kingdom as queen someday?

One of the worst of the lessons was at tea, wearing gloves and sitting like a proper lady in an uncomfortable chair without squirming at all, not even the smallest inch. How could I do that when Lady Noble was always scrutinizing my manners, tsk-ing at my slouch, or the tea I spilled on my gloves? I mean, how could I hold those delicate little teacups and saucers in my fingers without sloshing any tea, especially when I was wearing my slippery gloves, which were also too big? It was always a recipe for disaster, I tell you.

As if those lessons weren’t bad enough, it seemed like I was constantly doing things the wrong way. During diplomacy class, I was distracted and couldn’t stop giggling. When I tried to hide it, it only made things worse. You see, Mr. Ilano was so serious, talking about all of the neighboring kingdoms and how to help everyone get along, but then, when he got too dramatic talking about the subject, waving his hands in the air, the toupee on the top of his head would slide just a bit. When it moved, patches of his bald head gleamed under the too-perfect gold hair of the wig. When the sun shone through the window onto his head, the glare almost blinded me.

Now what could possibly be so funny about these kingdom politics? he’d say angrily, crossing his arms.

Then there was the time in my deportment class when I was learning about how to walk like an elegant lady and behave like a true queen, which apparently meant balancing a stack of books on my head. I started shimmying and swaying. I was sure that I could still balance the books while dancing! Mrs. Monsignon wasn’t impressed, though, especially when the books fell on the floor.

A queen should carry herself with grace. What would the people think if they had a clumsy queen to lead them? she fretted.

Well, I think they’d like her more. Everyone is a little clumsy sometimes. They’d be able to relate to that. If the queen was too perfect, people would be afraid to talk to her! It would be like trying to walk in a room of glass without breaking anything—impossible and nerve-wracking!

If only you spent as much time on your studies and perfecting your skills as you did on talking, Mrs. Monsignon remarked crisply. Now, let’s try again. Stand tall and hold still!

DAYDREAMING AGAIN! You missed my amazingly thought-provoking question about adding mixed fractions. A true loss for you! Professor Aloysius snapped his fingers, startling me. Not paying attention wastes precious time, Princess Adela. It’s already twelve o’clock, and your etiquette lesson awaits!

Time not doing math is time well spent, in my opinion, I mumbled, rising from the large wooden table I had been sitting at. Thanks for the chocolate, Professor Aloysius! I called as I strolled out the library door.

I walked down the corridor and turned into the entryway leading out to the courtyard. Why was my etiquette lesson being held outside today? It was usually in the banquet hall. This seemed too good to be true.

Sitting on a bench under the gazebo in the courtyard was one of the palace portrait painters, Miss Clarence. She appeared to be sketching on a notepad, peering intently at the flowers curled through the trellis, which she was trying to get just right for her drawing. Miss Clarence was young, which was unusual for the artists appointed as official portrait painters in the palace, but her skill in art had led to her being recognized. My parents and I each got a new portrait every year. The paintings were hung on a picture wall in the great hall, showing how we had changed with each year, so it was important for portrait artists to be skilled in capturing all of our personalities through their paint.

As I walked toward the gazebo, Miss Clarence looked up and smiled. There’s been a change of plans. Lady Noble couldn’t make it today. She said something about having to get tea stains out of gloves. I’ll be teaching you art today.

Art? I was never told that I would need skills in art to be queen. I thought that only the craftspeople in the kingdom’s villages were trained in art. I looked to Miss Clarence confusedly.

Art is no common pursuit, Princess Adela. It requires refinement and patience. Everyone can learn from that. Most of all, the beauty created through art is something everyone should experience. It makes you feel joy and hope. That is something special a queen can share with her people. I would certainly call that useful, more so than learning to balance books on your head.

We both smiled at that. Well, you have a point there, Miss Clarence, I commented.

All right, without any further ado, let’s start working on your masterpiece. First, you’ll need to choose your subject.

This was another surprise. "I’ll choose? Usually, my tutors tell me what I’ll be working on each day."

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, as they say. You will select a subject to draw that speaks to you. That’s what will make your art personal. It wouldn’t be the same if I told you what to draw. Besides, a queen should have confidence in making decisions and to do what is right. That’s how you become a true leader.

Amazed, I shook my head. Miss Clarence was nothing like my other tutors. They never answered all of my questions. Where did you learn all of this, Miss Clarence?

I’m an artist! We artists are deep thinkers, you know. We are the philosophers and poets of the world.

Okay, well, how do I choose a ‘subject,’ anyway? I thought my subjects were all the people in the kingdom that my parents lead.

Miss Clarence laughed. Not quite that kind of subject. The subject is what your drawing will be of, like when you choose a topic to write a story about or the characters to be in it.

I definitely knew about that. I nodded. I love to write stories. It’s my favorite thing. Stories are so exciting! There’s always something new happening in them, not like how I go to the same lessons every day, doing similar things. I write about heroines who do incredible things to save the world, not practicing hosting tea parties for dignitaries, I grumbled.

We can all make the world a better place through even the little things we do. A small act of kindness and care makes a large difference. When you draw, think of it like telling a story, just as how you paint your stories with words. In the meantime, let’s go on a scavenger hunt to find a subject right from nature, Miss Clarence said thoughtfully.

We walked through the paths of violet and coral flowers in the courtyard, with its ivy-covered ledges framing the ocean. I gathered some of the cherry blossoms that had fallen from the trees, planning to use them in my sketch. Then, I descended the stairs going down to the beach. Once on the sand, I collected shells and pieces of driftwood. When I returned to the gardens in the courtyard, I settled under a tall, gnarled oak tree and arranged my collection of findings on the grass.

I was supposed to make a still-life of objects, a sketch of materials that I could use as a reference for my painting, but no matter how I drew the objects in my sketchpad, they didn’t seem to fit together or look realistic in the way that I wanted them to. The weathered pieces of driftwood looked like they had wrinkled faces, the cherry blossoms looked like ruffled dresses, and the shells were like mirrors. With their shiny, iridescent colors underneath, they sparkled like stained glass in the sun.

I made the objects into characters of my own, bringing them alive by drawing what I imagined them being like as people. The cherry blossoms were the duchesses in their fluffy white gowns at the Christmas ball we’d held at the palace. The driftwood pieces became ancient wizards, weathered and wise, holding wooden wands. Meanwhile, the shells were turned into elegant sorceresses, holding mirrors that they saw the future in. My characters reminded me of the fairy tales and stories of our kingdom I’d read when I was younger. Only these characters were part of a story of my own that I’d created.

How could I leave the illustrations on lonely pages without any of their stories written down? I was so focused on my drawing and writing that I was shocked when Miss Clarence told me it was already one o’clock, time for my next lesson.

How is your sketch coming along, Princess Adela? she asked curiously.

I handed her my notebook, responding to her question only with a proud grin.

These are wonderful, she murmured, turning the pages in my sketchpad carefully. Your imagination is a gift. Please treasure it and continue to use it. It’s the light our kingdom needs.

FOR THE REST OF THE day, I could scarcely concentrate, for I was so excited about my characters, thinking about how I would continue to work on my project. I had found something I loved that I excelled at, and I didn’t want to spend more time away from it when all of these ideas for my story were flying into my head like lightning bugs, waiting for me to catch them.

Just when I felt myself starting to daydream again, a loud knock at the door of my diplomacy classroom boomed, and I whipped my head around to see the brave soul who had dared to interrupt Mr. Ilano’s lesson. It was a page, a royal messenger, with an official scroll, on which was written the latest news from my father, the king.

The king has made an announcement! the page declared.

Mr. Ilano’s mouth gaped open in astonishment, whether from the unexpected intrusion on his lesson or from the news itself, I couldn’t tell. Fortunately for him, though, his toupee did not fall off in all of the excitement of this announcement.

The royal family from the kingdom of Evelonia will be visiting this week! This is a very important visit that could decide our future government. We have little time to prepare, and we must make the most of what time we do have in order to make a good impression on the royal family! the page continued.

Well, why have you come here to tell us this now? Mr. Ilano asked impatiently.

I would think that this would be a living lesson in diplomacy since this visit could greatly improve relations between our kingdom and our neighbor of Evelonia. Working together, the kingdoms could change laws that have governed our lands for centuries. As the oldest child of the king, Princess Adela could become queen on her own, ascending to the throne after her father instead of waiting to rule until after her younger brother, Prince Alfred, has finished his reign! the page exclaimed breathlessly.

I gasped. I had been preparing my whole life for the possibility of becoming queen, but I never imagined that it could be so soon. As the older sister, I had always been the leader. In games with my little brother, Alfie, I was always the teacher when we played school, or the head chef when we pretended to work at the royal bakery. It had always been the rule that no matter how old the king’s heir was, his son would become the new ruler once the king’s reign had ended. Daughters of the king wouldn’t rule until after their brothers did; in fact, they might not have the chance to rule, especially if they have many brothers who would come before them in line to the throne.

Mr. Ilano’s eyes widened. Impossible! Princess Adela would never be ready for that!

Almost knocking over my chair, I stood up abruptly from my seat to deliver an announcement of my own in as regal a tone as I could manage. I can assure you that I will be ready for the visit of the royal family from Evelonia. I will help to make sure that they have a spectacular experience, and I will be prepared to become queen someday, perhaps sooner than we all thought. I glanced at Mr. Ilano, whose face was red as a beet from the courtyard gardens. Thank you, Mr. Page, for bringing this most important message. I smiled, nodding my head at the page in acknowledgment.

He bowed hastily before scampering out of the room, no doubt to avoid Mr. Ilano’s wrath.

I would have a lot of work to do to prepare for the kingdom of Evelonia’s visit. I just hoped I could perfect all of my lessons in time.

THE MOMENT OF TRUTH had come. It was the evening of the welcome dinner for the king and queen of Evelonia. I was peeking shyly into the grand dining hall, where all members of the aristocracy were dressed in their finest clothes, laughing and milling about the room. They held crystal glasses that sparkled with light refracted from the setting sun, which glinted from through the large picture windows. The grand dining hall was entered through a vast foyer composed of pillars and floors of white marble with gold filigree accents. Adjacent to the dining hall was a balcony where you could look out at the ocean. Some dinner guests promenaded out on the walk below the balcony, and the twilight sky turned their shadows purple, softening everything peacefully.

Inside the dining hall, there was a low murmur of voices in conversation that rippled through the room. No one else my age was there. The room filled with such esteemed guests seemed so enormous and intimidating, even with my memories of running through it as a child so many times, shouting out and hearing my voice echo off the tall, painted ceilings so high above, with their rich, vibrant colors of red, gold, and blue.

The staircase leading down to the foyer was more magnificent than ever as ladies and baronesses in their sweeping dresses paraded down it alongside earls and dukes in tuxedoes. I had slid down the banisters of the staircases before, but now, the sight of all of these fancy people overwhelmed me. I felt small and nervous about the dinner, which would begin once the king and queen of Evelonia arrived at the palace. What if I embarrassed myself in front of them? Then the royal law would never be changed, and the kingdoms wouldn’t join together.

The clanging of the bell announcing the beginning of the dinner rang through the grand hall. Everyone quieted and took their seats. I hurried inside the room, no longer on the outskirts, quickly taking my seat in between father and mother at the long, rectangular dining table, which was at the front of the hall, stretched across the wall, before all of the smaller, round tables where all of the guests were seated. Alfie was too young to attend the dinner, which I briefly envied him for. If he had been there, he would have been coloring on linen napkins that were part of the place settings, singing ballads in his loud, screechy voice, or planning something else quite mischievous, though I would’ve enjoyed the entertainment.

I present King Archibald and Queen Arabella of Evelonia, kingdom to the north. The page bowed, and with that, the king and queen of Evelonia stepped gracefully through the hall, sitting beside my family at the main dining table. Now, as a ceremonial welcome and a symbol of our hospitality, Princess Adela will serve the first cups of tea as part of our high tea, the much-celebrated evening meal, to our guests of honor, the king and queen of Evelonia.

I gulped, terrified that I would make a mistake. I rose from my seat slowly, feeling unsteady on my feet, but attempted to walk elegantly with a straight back, as Mrs. Monsignon had taught me. I curtsied politely before the king and queen of Evelonia, and they bowed their heads back at me respectfully in response. Then, I picked up the porcelain teapot with its design of dainty painted roses from the table, clutching it as tightly as I could with my white silk gloves. I tipped the teapot gently, only slightly forward, to pour it into the queen’s teacup. I filled it just enough so that it didn’t spill, breathing a quiet sigh of relief when she smiled graciously, nodding encouragingly to me.

Next, I moved to fill the king’s teacup, which was set a bit further away, toward the top edge of his dinner plate. I leaned across the table to reach the pesky teacup, forgetting to place my other hand on top of the teapot so the lid wouldn’t tumble off when I poured the tea. Suddenly, just as I had feared, the teapot lid clattered to the floor, breaking into pieces as a waterfall of tea cascaded not only into the teacup but also all over the fine brocade tablecloth. I jerked the teapot back, accidentally splashing some tea onto the king.

I’m so sorry! I whispered hoarsely, feeling my cheeks burning with humiliation. I felt awful, believing that I had shamed my kingdom and made the beginning of the Evelonian royal family’s stay unpleasant. I scrambled to my seat, hoping to find a napkin to clean the spilled tea with, but as I did so, I tripped on the hem of the long tablecloth touching the floor. The whole tablecloth lurched forward toward me, causing plates, glasses, and silverware to fall and crash to the floor. Now, it certainly wouldn’t matter whether I had set the table correctly or not. So much for diplomacy now. Surely, I had no hope of building my kingdom’s friendship with Evelonia at this point. At least this time, I hadn’t gotten so much as a spot of tea on my gloves.

MY PARENTS HAD APOLOGIZED profusely to the king and queen of Evelonia after the unfortunate tea incident. After the tables had been reset, it was hoped that the delicious flavor of the dinner would help everyone forget about my mishap starting off the high tea. The Evelonian king and queen had only chuckled, saying that they had been to many boring formal dinners, and at least this wouldn’t be one of them. Still, I was disappointed, wishing I could make things better somehow. I barely tasted the dinner of roast turkey, my favorite, or the chocolate fudge cake for dessert. I was still replaying my clumsiness in my head, and seeing the sympathetic looks other dinner guests gave me made me feel worse.

Now, the guests were dancing in the ballroom. I sat glumly in a satin chair by the piano, listening to the music and staring up at the ceiling, which was painted blue with puffs of white, to look like the sky with clouds. A glittering chandelier hung down from the ceiling, with all of its lighted candles illuminating the people dancing across the floor, outlining all of the spinning couples in gold. I wished I could be outside on a warm spring day with blue skies and puffy white clouds like the ones painted on the ceiling, instead of reliving the embarrassing dinner here. Sighing, I turned my head, looking out the ballroom windows at the sailboat out on the water, which was silvery against the darkened sky as the boat swept closer to the shore.

Princess Adela, I thought you loved to dance! Why are you in a corner over here by yourself, and looking so gloomy, too? Miss Clarence had walked over, frowning concernedly at me.

Miss Clarence? I didn’t know you would be here! I exclaimed with surprise.

Yes, I came to meet King Archibald and Queen Arabella. I’ll be painting their portraits as a gift from our kingdom, Miss Clarence explained. Anyway, what’s wrong, Princess Adela?

I’m frustrated that I still haven’t gotten my lessons right, and I embarrassed myself, my parents, and the whole kingdom in front of all of the guests because of that. How can I ever be queen? I asked sadly.

Princess Adela, everyone makes mistakes. No one is perfect! One small moment in time doesn’t define you and doesn’t mean that you won’t be a good queen. You haven’t failed all of your lessons. What about your art project?

That’s it! I know how I can fix things! I cried joyously. It wasn’t too late to help bring the two kingdoms together.

THINKING OF THE TABLECLOTH stained by tea had given me an idea. With the help of Miss Clarence, I painted pieces of fabric, weaving them together to make a larger cloth that connected different scenes, almost like a quilt, that would tell a story as a whole. We hung the tapestry in the grand dining hall once it was finished. When the king and queen of Evelonia returned to the grand dining hall for refreshments after dancing, they gasped at what they saw. This time, though, their astonishment was for a marvelous reason.

Who created this beautiful work of art? the queen asked with amazement.

Well, I painted the scenes, and my art tutor, Miss Clarence, helped me to put everything together. Your Majesties, I would like to present to you the stories of our two kingdoms, as depicted in my artwork.

Mr. Ilano would have been proud of how I used my best dramatic storytelling flourishes to tell the histories of each kingdom, showing how they had always been connected. I moved through each painted panel of the tapestry, picturing each story, acting out the scenes, and bringing them to life.

Then, the two kingdoms pledged to be allies always, preserving their legacies together, and combining the talents of their peoples to create a more beautiful world. The old traditions were kept, and new ones were added as well.

The king and queen of Evelonia clapped enthusiastically. "Brava!" they cheered, and I took a bow.

Now, Princess Adela, how do you plan to continue on the story you’ve just told us in your kingdom? the king asked.

Someday, I want to rule the kingdom as queen, with grace, courage, intelligence, and creativity. I want to use art to bring people together, reminding them of why their stories, our kingdom’s stories, matter.

Together, we can make all of that happen. The queen smiled. Though I can see that you’ve already begun to fulfill your vision. Thank you for sharing your gift with us, Princess Adela. We won’t soon forget it.

THE REST OF THE EVELONIAN royal family’s visit was absolutely splendid, better than I ever could have planned it. Professor Aloysius had planned to use the chocolate fudge cake leftover from the Evelonian welcome dinner to finish off our lessons on fractions. He had thought that the large pieces of cake couldn’t be eaten as easily as the chocolate squares when he brought them to class, believing he had finally foiled my plans. What he didn’t anticipate was that King Archibald is in the habit of eating cake for breakfast, and he got to it before Professor Aloysius could.

When Professor Aloysius went to the palace kitchen’s refrigerator to retrieve the cake right before our math lesson, he was furious to find that it was empty, which was not as he had left it. Princess Adela! he had fumed.

This time, it really wasn’t me! I said innocently. It was true!

As it turns out, the Evelonian royals are an adventurous sort of family, so they enjoyed surfboarding on the ocean waves, as well as riding horses on the beach. When their horses galloped rapidly past, they sent sand flying and Lady Noble’s blood pressure rising, as she was quite upset when the picnic place settings we had arranged on the beach became askew. Miss Clarence made a rather amusing portrait of the whole event taking place, which is being preserved as an artifact in the palace library, proudly kept with our treasures.

Mrs. Monsignon gave up on my deportment lessons when we all waltzed in the ballroom, balancing stacks of books on our heads, as Alfie banged on the piano keys to his heart’s content, even once the books began to fall to the floor. Still, I kept up the balancing act the longest. I knew I was improving at my lessons! Even Mr. Ilano congratulated me for my successful diplomacy efforts with the Evelonian kingdom, shaking my hand with respect.

All throughout, I recorded the tales of our adventures, adding onto the story I had already begun to write down, along with all of the illustrations I had been working on in my sketchpad. The perfect end to the Evelonian royal family’s visit—which wouldn’t be the last—was when both of our kingdoms’ royal laws were changed, allowing daughters of kings to be next in line for the throne, not only sons. Under my rule, in the future, I know we’ll continue to live happily ever after.

An Ember of Magic

Gillian Pegg

Princess Eleonora was very good at hide-and-seek. It did not matter who she played with; no one else in the castle had ever managed to beat her record. She always remembered to put a few snacks into her skirt pockets, for it was likely that she’d be hiding away somewhere all afternoon.

On the sunny morning our story starts, Ella was hiding behind the unicorn tapestry in the east wing of the castle. Somewhere out the window, she could hear her brother calling for her. Fredrick was not so good at hide-and-seek. Ella always found him in a matter of minutes. Fredrick was also not very good at listening, because the only rule was indoors only.

Ella dug around in her skirt pocket and pulled out a candy. It would be forever before Fredrick found her. She might even still be here by dinner! Fred was, if possible, getting even worse at hide-and-seek. Ella shifted on her feet.

If only Cyrene were still here to play games with her. Cyrene had been the court mage before she had disappeared some months ago. Ella had been Cyrene’s apprentice of sorts. Ella thought of the many afternoons she had spent at Cyrene’s elbow, watching and learning as the court mage whisked potions together, ground ingredients, or read spells from very old books. Ella thought about the bubbling vials, the glowing gemstones that sat on Cyrene’s mantle, and the plants in crystal pots that actually hummed tunes when the sunlight was on them. Since Cyrene’s abrupt departure, Ella’s world had become a very dull and gray place indeed.

Without Cyrene to learn from, Ella had not known what to do during her free time. She spent most of it in the library, reading books about magical plants, potions, and spells. She always found that she had so many questions, but it was impossible to find the answers without having Cyrene to talk to. Cyrene was like a cauldron full of knowledge, and she had always been so happy to share what she knew and answer all of Ella’s endless questions.

Ella listened hard for Fred, but it seemed that he had wandered even further away. Ella wondered how Cyrene had left. Had she, too, wandered off into the forest? Had Cyrene known she wasn’t coming back? Ella tried not to dwell on the strange letter Cyrene had left just for her. It was the only clue about where she had gone. Ella had folded it up tiny enough to fit inside her locket.

Ella,

I hope to see you soon. Do try to stay out of trouble, but don’t forget that every good mage must get into a little trouble now and then.

-Cyrene

Ella let out a sigh. She wanted, more than anything in the whole realm, to be a good mage. She wanted to cast spells with the same flourish that Cyrene did. She wanted to stand with her shoulders squared and her back straight. She wanted to wear the robes of the court mage and consult the king and queen on magical matters.

There were two problems. The first was that Cyrene was the only person in the castle who would talk to Ella about magic. Everyone else was too busy or thought magic too academic or too old-fashioned. Since Cyrene’s departure, Ella had lost her confidant, her teacher, and her tutor. Cyrene was Ella’s strongest link to magic. The second problem, and perhaps the even bigger one, was that Ella was a princess, not a court mage. In being a princess, she had her place, but to Ella, her place as the princess hardly meant anything. No one listened to her council like they did Cyrene’s. No one abided by her wishes as they did for her parents. No one thought her as important as her brother, the future king.

The cook, the stable hand, the royal advisors, and even the royal horses all had very specific jobs to do. Ella’s role was ... less clear. To be a princess, it seemed to her, meant that she spent much of her time learning how to be quiet, but Ella was only good at being quiet when she was playing hide-and-seek.

Being a princess, according to her new tutor, who was very boring and nothing like Cyrene, meant making a good marriage to create new alliances for her brother. Ella rolled her eyes. How on Earth could that possibly be her problem? Ella wanted to make a difference! She wanted to learn, to create, and to help people. She wanted to be the court mage.

Ella thought of something else, tucked in the bottom of her secret skirt pocket. Cyrene’s apothecary key had been tied to her note. If it was true that even a good mage had to get into trouble sometimes, then Ella wanted to be a very good mage.

Ella’s feet made the decision for her. She ran down the hall and up the wide stone stairway. Ella followed the corridors until she got to the base of Cyrene’s tower, and then climbed the spiral stone steps to the top. She was before the arched oak door within a minute. All was quiet. Ella reached into her pocket and pulled out the key.

The handle turned with the same old squeak. The room was dark, or at least it was until Ella closed the door behind her and took a step into the room. The candles flickered on then, as if by magic.

Ella went to the curtains, which were drawn tightly shut. Cyrene had always liked to have all the windows open to invite in the wind, she said. Ella pulled the cord, and bright sunlight shone in. The stained-glass panes at the top