To be born a fairytale princess is a blessing indeed, but hers is not the lazy, carefree life that many imagine. There are numerous, important decisions that a princess must make every day.
For example, how would she like to be awoken in the morning? Should she choose an enchanted alarm clock to sing and dance around her bedroom? Perhaps her parents could employ fairies to gently sprinkle waking dust on her cheeks. Maybe she’d prefer to have a household troll ring a gong or her MirrorPhone blare the latest hit song.
Duchess Swan, a fairytale princess proud and true, chose none of those options. Instead, she liked to be awoken by her favorite sound in the whole world.
Honk! Honk!
“Don’t tell me it’s morning already,” a voice grumbled.
Duchess opened her eyes. While the honking had come from the large nest next to her bed, the complaining had come from across the room. To her constant dismay, Duchess did not sleep alone. This was the girls’ dormitory at a very special school called Ever After High, and her roommate was Lizzie Hearts, daughter of the famously angry Queen of Hearts. Lizzie was not a morning person. Which is why she didn’t own an alarm clock.
Honk! Honk!
“For the love of Wonderland!” Lizzie exclaimed, her voice partially muffled by a pillow. “Off with the duck’s head!”
Duck? Duchess frowned. Seriously?
“Pirouette is not a duck,” Duchess said, sitting up in bed. “Pirouette is a trumpeter swan.”
“Duck, swan, pigeon… she’s loud.” Lizzie burrowed beneath a jumble of blankets.
“Of course she’s loud,” Duchess said. “She’s named after a trumpet, not a flute.”
Honk! Honk!
Duchess waved, to let Pirouette know that she hadn’t gone unnoticed. Then Duchess pushed back the lavender silk comforter and set her bare feet on the stone floor. It was the first day of the new school chapter, and she was looking forward to her new classes. Why? Because each class was another opportunity to get a perfect grade. As a member of the Royals, Duchess took her princess duties very seriously. One of those duties was to be the best student she could be.
But there was another truth, somewhat darker and simmering below her perfect surface. Duchess Swan was well aware that grades were something she could control, while her ill-fated destiny was not.
Tendrils of warm air wafted from the furnace vent, curling around her like a hug. She pointed her toes, then flexed, stretching the muscles. It was important to keep her feet limber, for she was a ballerina, and her feet were her instruments.
Honk! Honk!
“Okay. Hold your feathers.” Duchess slid into her robe, then opened the window. A gust of fresh morning air blew across her face. Pirouette flew outside, heading for the lush green meadow. A swan needs to stretch, too.
Just as Duchess tied the laces on her dress, the bedroom door flew open and two princesses barged in. “Ever heard of a little thing called knocking?” Duchess asked.
“Can we talk?” the first princess said. Her name was Ashlynn Ella, daughter of the famously humble Cinderella. She yawned super-wide. “It’s about your alarm clock.”
The second princess, whose name was Apple White, daughter of the famously beautiful Snow White, also yawned. “Yes. Your goose alarm clock.”
“She’s not a goose,” Duchess sighed. These princesses really knew how to get under her wings. “She’s a swan.”
“Oh, that’s right. Sorry,” Apple said.
The two princesses, having just rolled out of bed, looked unbelievably perfect. No bedhead, no sheet lines, no crusty sandman sand at the corners of their eyes. Apple was known as the Fairest One of All, and Ashlynn couldn’t be any lovelier, even if she tried.
“Apple and I agree, as do the other princesses, that the honking sound that comes from your room every morning is starting to become a bit of a royal pain.”
Royal pain? Duchess looked away for a brief moment so they wouldn’t see the twinge of hurt feelings.
“I’d be happy to lend you some of my songbirds,” Ashlynn said. Then she whistled. Three tiny birds flew through the doorway and landed on her outstretched finger. “It’s such a cheerful way to wake up.”
“Bird alarms aren’t always reliable,” Apple said. “I’d be happy to connect you to my network of dwarves. They’ll send a wake-up call to your MirrorPhone.”
“I don’t need your songbirds or dwarves,” Duchess told them, a bit annoyed.
Okay, she was more than a bit annoyed. Those girls were always acting as if they were better. They really ruffled her feathers!
Ashlynn, Apple, and Lizzie were of royal heritage—the blood daughters of fairytale kings and queens. Being a Royal at Ever After High meant being part of the most popular and the most privileged group. Duchess was also a Royal, but she was different. Most Royals were destined to marry other Royals and rule kingdoms, living out their lives in comfort, health, and fortune. In other words, a big, fat Happily Ever After was waiting for most of them.
But Duchess did not have such a future, nor did she have a future as a dancer. Her destiny, as the daughter of the Swan Queen, was to turn into a swan and live out her days web-footed and feathered.
You can’t perform a graceful grand jeté with webbed feet!
To make matters worse, she had no Happily Ever After with a charming prince written into her story.
Although Duchess’s future did not seem fair, she’d accepted her circumstances. It was her duty to keep her story alive by fulfilling her destiny. She worked hard at her studies and her dancing. She did her best to make her family proud. But it drove her crazy that these girls had nothing more to worry about than being awoken by honking. It was just as Duchess often said: Birds of a feather flock together.
Lizzie popped her head out of the covers and glared at the intruders. “I order this meeting to be over. Now!”
“Sounds good to me,” Duchess said. “Even though I was so enjoying our little chat.” She forced a smile. “However, it’s time to get dressed for class. And you know what happens if you’re late.” She looked directly at Ashlynn.
“Oh my godmother, thanks for the reminder,” Ashlynn said, her eyes widening with worry. If she was even just one second late, her clothes would turn into rags. She picked up the hem of her nightgown and rushed out the door, her songbirds following.
“Well, I’d better go, too. I hear my magic mirror calling. Charm you later,” Apple said.
Duchess’s smile collapsed the moment the princesses were gone. “Good riddance,” she muttered under her breath.
“If my mother were here, she’d order their heads chopped off,” Lizzie said. Then she burrowed back under the blankets.
Just as Duchess closed the bedroom door, Pirouette flew back in through the window. She landed at Duchess’s feet, then turned the corners of her beak into a smile. Duchess knelt and gave her a hug. The wonderful scent of wind clung to Pirouette’s white feathers. “Lucky girl,” Duchess whispered. “You don’t have to deal with know-it-all princesses.”
Duchess filled a bowl with swan kibble—a mixture of breadcrumbs and grains—and set it on the floor. Pirouette began eating her breakfast. This was the calmest time of the day for Duchess, before the flurry of classes and activities, while Lizzie snored peacefully. And Duchess usually began each day by writing in her journal.
She sat at her desk and opened the top drawer. There was no need to hide the golden book, because it was enchanted with a security spell. She pressed her fingers against the cover. A click sounded. This was the only place where she shared her truest of feelings—her darkest of secrets. After turning to a blank page, she dipped her quill into ink and began to write. But one thought filled her mind. One thought that never seemed to go away. And so she wrote:
Then Duchess Swan looked out the window and sighed. Being a perfect princess meant she had to accept her destiny, even if that destiny was covered in feathers.