Her Royal Slyness

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  For Queen Mom and King Dad

  CHAPTER 1

  “Whoa! Whoa!”

  Prince Carlos Charles Charming could feel droplets of perspiration forming on his brow. He clenched his teeth. His eyes flashed with panic. His ankles began to shake.

  “Whoooa!” he yelled.

  Carlos’s words bounced against the walls of the empty ballroom, so as he yelled “whoooa,” a bunch of whoooas yelled back at him.

  It was a little disorienting. And now was not the time to be disoriented.

  As Carlos whoooa-ed and wobbled, Jack the Jester sat crisscross applesauce upon a large purple velvet pillow. Jack nodded, making the bells on his red-and-green hat jingle-jangle.

  Carlos found the jingle-jangling disorienting, too.

  “You’re doing fine, kiddo,” Jack said. “Just relax. Just keep moving.”

  “I-I don’t know if I can relax!” Carlos sputtered. “Every time I move, I— WHOA!”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa…” the walls replied.

  It was as if Carlos was relearning how to walk, which was pretty much what he was doing.

  “Let the stilts become part of your body,” Jack instructed.

  Weaving on his shaky stilts, Carlos blinked a drop of sweat out of his eye. “Is it hot in here?”

  “That’s stress sweat, boy,” Jack said. “Don’t worry. You’re only three feet off the ground.”

  Carlos’s feet may have been only three feet off the ground, but his head was eight feet off the ground. And it felt much, much higher. Also, the feet at the end of his new, unsteady legs were not his normal size-nine shoes but two skinny poles no thicker than a silver dollar.

  The very thought made him dizzy.

  Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it, Carlos thought.

  But trying not to think about it made Carlos think about it even more.

  “Don’t lose focus,” Jack warned.

  But the sweat, tension, and dizziness made Carlos less focused than ever.

  “Keep moving,” Jack said.

  Carlos took a step, but his stilt couldn’t find the floor. He felt his weight shift. He felt himself fall. He caught a glimpse of the stone floor rushing up to meet his face.

  PUH!

  Oh! That fall was kind of pleasant, Carlos thought. I didn’t know stone floors could be so comfortable.

  He blinked once, then twice. He found his head resting on a large pillow made of purple velvet. His eyes flicked to where Jack the Jester sat, though Jack wasn’t sitting anymore. He was on his feet, with his left arm outstretched before him, as if he had just released a bowling ball.

  “Thanks for letting me borrow your pillow,” Carlos said.

  “Thanks for falling where I threw it!” Jack replied. “Your parents have enough problems with our jester lessons. I don’t think they’d like it if I returned you to them with a dented head.”

  Carlos’s parents, Carmine and Cora Charming, were the king and queen of the peaceful and happy land of Faraway Kingdom. That meant Carlos was a prince. That also meant that Carlos was expected to do princely things.

  Jestering was pretty much the opposite of being princely, but Carlos loved it. And King Carmine and Queen Cora were good parents as well as good rulers. So they allowed the jester lessons to continue as long as jestering didn’t interfere with Carlos’s royal responsibilities.

  Jestering, they told him, must only be a hobby. A very private, very secret hobby.

  But jestering was more than a hobby to Carlos. It was his passion. And he was good at it, too. For the most part.

  “You need a little more practice with the stilts, I see.” Jack jingle-jangled over to where Carlos lay. He offered a hand, but Carlos didn’t take it.

  “Can I just lie here for a minute?” He was comfortable on the floor and still a little woozy.

  “Sure.” Jack smiled down at his student. “You earned a break. Would you like a little water?”

  “Yes, thank you,” Carlos said.

  The flower on Jack’s vest sprayed water in Carlos’s face.

  “HA-HA! Gotcha!” Jack wheezed with laughter.

  Carlos dried his face on his sleeve and shook his head. How did I fall for that old gag? he thought.

  Nonetheless, Carlos couldn’t help but smile.

  Jack plopped himself down on the stone floor. He was the only adult Carlos knew whose knees never made cracking noises. The jester scratched his chin and studied Carlos’s face. “You do look a little glassy-eyed,” he admitted. “Tell me a poop joke.”

  “Why?” Carlos asked.

  “Poop jokes make the mind sharp,” Jack said.

  “They do?” Carlos asked.

  Jack shrugged. “How should I know? I just wanna hear a poop joke.”

  “Okay.…” Carlos tried to come up with a good one. “What do you call a fairy using the toilet?”

  “What?” Jack asked.

  “Stinker Bell.”

  Jack’s brown cheeks stretched into a wide, merry grin. His dark eyes crinkled with delight. He let out a long, appreciative laugh. “That’s a good one! You, kid, are a natural jester.”

  It was Jack’s highest compliment, but Carlos couldn’t fully accept it. “I don’t know, Jack,” he said. “I’ve been working with stilts for a month, and I still can’t get the hang of them.”

  “You will,” Jack assured him. “You got the hang of everything else.”

  This was true, but somehow stilt-walking was different from everything else. Every time Carlos got up on the stilts, his eyes would get blurry and he’d start to shake. No matter how much he practiced, the feelings never went away.

  “You’re a fine jester, Carlos. And I’m not the only one who thinks so.” Jack raised a mischievous eyebrow. “In fact, I have news.”

  Jack paused, letting the word news hang there for a moment to give it a little extra oomph. He peered over his shoulder. He lowered his voice. In Fancy Castle, spies could be anywhere. “Wanna work on your hobby in the village tonight?” he asked.

  Carlos’s eyes brightened. “You know I do,” he whispered. “When, where, and what?”

  “Five o’clock, Village Hall, the Zimmerman bar mitzvah,” Jack said.

  Carlos’s heart leapt. “Five o’clock. Hm. I think I can sneak out.” His stilt-walking worries faded away. “One way or another, I will sneak out. I am so there.”

  Jack winked. “It’ll be our little secret.”

  “And the Zimmermans’ secret.” Carlos winked back.

  “And their fifty guests’ secret.” Jack chuckled.

  “And the secret of the one hundred guests at last week’s Stravini wedding.” Carlos chuckled louder.

  “And the secret of the thirty guests at little Bobby Vapors’s birthday party two weeks ago.” Jack snorted.

  “And the secret of everyone at t
he grand opening of Corky’s Pre-Owned Catapults.” Carlos snorted louder.

  “And the secret of everyone at the annual Moat-Diggers’ Convention!”

  “And the secret of everybody at the Renaissance Faire!”

  “And the—” Jack began.

  “And the—” Carlos began.

  But Jack and Carlos were unable to continue. They were too busy laughing.

  To put it another way, Carlos and Jack’s secret wasn’t much of a secret. In fact, nearly everybody in Faraway Kingdom knew that Carlos secretly worked as a freelance jester.

  Only two people didn’t know: King Carmine and Queen Cora. If they found out, Carlos would probably be grounded forever. So every farmer, villager, merchant, and aristocrat in Faraway Kingdom kept their yap shut whenever the royal family was within earshot.

  “What are the Zimmermans looking for?” Carlos asked.

  “A little of everything,” Jack replied. “But mostly juggling.”

  “Cool,” Carlos said. Juggling was his specialty.

  Carlos began to work out his routine in his mind. However, he was soon distracted by a rapid series of approaching clickita-clickitas.

  “Hark! What’s that noise?” Jack made sure his voice was loud enough for the owner of the clickitas to hear. “Is that Fancy Castle’s new puppy?”

  Jack winked at Carlos. Carlos grinned.

  The clickitas stopped abruptly and were replaced with a small, impatient “Harrumph.”

  “Here puppy, puppy!” Jack called.

  “I keep telling you and telling you! I am not a puppy,” responded the distant voice. “I am a dragon!”

  “A dragon?” Jack asked. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeeeeeeees!” the voice said.

  More clickitas echoed down the hall. Moments later, Smudge galumphed into the ballroom.

  Smudge was indeed a dragon. He had colorful scales, bat wings, a long tail, and sharp black talons that clickita-ed on the stone castle floors. The only thing about Smudge that wasn’t very dragonish was his personality. Smudge had a lot more in common with a golden retriever than with a ferocious beast.

  “See?” Smudge said. “Dragon!” To prove it, he let out a huge ROOOOAR!

  Jack nodded. “Oh, yes! I see it now.” Normally, Jack wouldn’t stop teasing someone so soon after he got started, but teasing Smudge was a lot like teasing a toddler—it didn’t take long before the jokes stopped being funny and started being mean. “You, Smudge, are clearly not a puppy.”

  Smudge nodded. “Dragon. A little boy dragon. Don’t forget next time, okay?”

  “I won’t,” Jack promised. But, of course, he would forget, because forgetting is funny.

  Jack gave Smudge a little skritch under his chin, making the dragon purr a puff of smoke. Smudge could hardly ever resist a skritch, but he steeled himself. He had a job to do. He pulled himself away from Jack and clickita-ed to Carlos’s side.

  “Oh, hai, CC!” Smudge chirped. “You sleeping?” (Carlos was still lying on the velvet pillow.)

  “No,” Carlos said. “What is it?”

  “Mama wants you,” Smudge said.

  Carlos tried to stifle a weary sigh but didn’t do a very good job of it. “What does she want?”

  “Something about being princely,” Smudge said.

  Carlos’s sigh was replaced with a groan so loud that the ballroom groaned back at him. He sat up and began to untie his stilts. “I hate prince training.”

  “No, you don’t,” Smudge protested.

  “Yes, I do.” Carlos tossed the stilts aside, allowing them to smack the stone floor with a satisfying clatter. He pulled himself up into a standing position. His knees cracked.

  “But if you didn’t have prince training, we wouldn’t be bestest friends!” Smudge said.

  This was true. Carlos met Smudge on his very first prince assignment. Now the dragon lived full-time at Fancy Castle, lighting chandeliers with his fiery breath, organizing a knitting club with the housekeeping staff, and accepting cuddles wherever he could find them. (Smudge found cuddles pretty much everywhere.)

  “So … so … so maybe something fun will happen this time, too!” Smudge went on.

  “Maybe,” Carlos said, although he didn’t really believe it. “At least I won’t be falling off of stilts.”

  “It will be fun, CC,” Smudge decided. “And I’ll come with you! I make things funner.”

  “Yes, you do,” Carlos agreed.

  “And maybe we’ll even meet a new bestest friend!” Smudge said.

  Carlos scratched Smudge’s head. “Maybe,” he said.

  And, with a quick parting wave to Jack the Jester, the two of them toddled off to find the queen.

  CHAPTER 2

  Queen Cora was in the throne room—a room large enough to hold a half dozen normal-sized houses. As Carlos and Smudge passed through the entrance, they saw her by the far wall. She was wedged into her golden throne with her silken robes, capes, and petticoats carefully and colorfully arranged around her like a peacock’s tail. A small group of servants stood by the queen’s side, ready to address her every need.

  Queen Cora was a big woman with an even bigger personality, but even she had some difficulty getting her voice to carry the length of the throne room. She cupped her large, tan hands around her mouth before offering a greeting.

  “HELLOOOOOOOO! COME CLOOOOOSER!”

  Carlos and Smudge did as they were told, padding down the long ribbon of red carpet to where she sat.

  “Smudgie!” Queen Cora beamed with delight. “You found Carlos just like I asked you to! You are such a good little dragon!”

  Smudge’s tail whipped back and forth in reply, but its joyful motion didn’t quite match up with the grave expression on his face.

  “It was really tricky to find him,” Smudge said, nodding. He made his eyes big and adorable.

  “It was tricky?” the queen asked.

  “It was reeeeally tricky,” Smudge continued. “I searched and searched. I was going to give up, but I kept searching so you’d be happy.”

  “Well, I am happy!” the queen said. “I am so happy with your good work that I think I’ll give you a treat!”

  The dragon’s tail now whipped back and forth so fast that it smacked against Carlos’s shin.

  “Ow! Dang it!” he exclaimed.

  “Would you like a fudgesicle?” the queen asked. “I bet you would like a— OOF!”

  Queen Cora didn’t say Smudge would like an OOF. Queen Cora said OOF because Smudge leapt into the queen’s lap. The queen recovered quickly, however. “Oh, aren’t you an affectionate angel!”

  She nodded to her handmaiden, who presented Queen Cora with an unwrapped fudgesicle.

  Smudge flopped onto his back, opened his toothy mouth, and accepted a bite.

  Carlos rolled his eyes. “Smudge can hold his own ice cream, Mom.”

  “Oh, I know,” the queen cooed, but she showed no sign of handing the fudgesicle to Smudge. Instead, she rubbed the dragon’s pudgy belly and waited for him to signal that he was ready for another bite.

  He opened his mouth wide. “Aaaah!” That was the signal.

  Carlos couldn’t help but roll his eyes again. “What do you want me for, Mom?”

  “Hm?” Cora looked up from Smudge as if waking from a deep sleep. “Oh! Carlos! Yes! I have terrible, terrible news!”

  “What is it?” Carlos asked.

  “It is so very, very terrible…” the queen said.

  “Aaaah!” Smudge said.

  The queen’s eyes returned to the squirming dragon in her lap. “You want another bite, poopsie?”

  “Mmhm.” Smudge nodded.

  The queen gave her poopsie another bite.

  “Mom?” Impatience crept into Carlos’s voice.

  “Hm?” The queen looked up. “Oh! Yes! Terrible news, Carlos. Just terrible.” And she went back to rubbing Smudge’s belly.

  Much to Carlos’s relief, a new voice entered the conversation. “Ah, good m
orning, son.” It was King Carmine. He had made the long journey from the throne-room entrance without being noticed. “Did your mother tell you everything?”

  “No,” Carlos said.

  The king looked to his queen. “Cora?”

  “Hm?” The queen was scratching behind Smudge’s ears.

  “Aaaah!” Smudge said.

  “Here you are, babycakes,” the queen said.

  The king rolled his eyes. “The dragon can hold his own ice cream, Cora.”

  “Oh, I know,” the queen cooed, but she showed no sign of handing the fudgesicle to Smudge.

  The king stood there for a long, indecisive moment. Then he rubbed his eyes as if they hurt. He looked tired. The king always looked a little tired, but today his light-brown, wrinkly skin made his face look like a used paper bag.

  “Let’s walk and talk, son,” he said finally.

  So they did, walking back down the long ribbon of carpet, out of the throne room, and down the winding castle hallways. King Carmine’s brisk pace and long, lanky legs forced Carlos to practically run alongside him.

  “Your mother is a wonderful woman,” the king began. “The most wonderful woman I have ever known. But pets … kind of distract her from … well, everything.”

  Carlos shrugged. “So what do you want me for?”

  The king took a deep breath. “I have just heard that Princess Pinky has been kidnapped.”

  Carlos knew of Princess Pinky, but he had never met her. She lived in Ever-After Land, a kingdom that was a strong friend and ally of Faraway Kingdom. Many years ago, Faraway Kingdom and Ever-After Land agreed to always help each other in times of trouble.

  A kidnapping was trouble.

  “Do you know where Princess Pinky is?” Carlos asked.

  The king nodded. “I have reliable information that she is being held captive in the Tallest Tower. I need you to rescue her.”

  The conversation had been leading to this moment, but the king’s request still made Carlos’s heart skip a beat. “Me?” He stopped in his tracks.