During a dinner of swamp greens and curly fries, Duchess felt as if the walls of the school were pressing in. She wanted to get away and think. So much had happened that day. Everyone was talking about the General Villainy thronework. Blondie Lockes had even painted a banner that read:
WHO WILL BE THE NEXT TOP VILLAIN?
She’d hung it from the Castleteria rafters.
Blondie interrupted Duchess’s meal by trying to interview her. “What mean and rotten thing are you going to do?” she asked, pushing her MirrorPad in front of Duchess’s face. “And be sure to speak loud enough so everyone can hear you.”
“It’s not mean and rotten. It’s rotten and nasty,” Duchess corrected. “And even if I had a plan, why would I tell you?” She turned her back to the MirrorPad.
Blondie darted in front of her. “Are you saying you don’t have a plan?”
“No, I’m not saying that.” She tried to speak calmly so Blondie wouldn’t suspect the truth.
Blondie spoke into her MirrorPad. “Well, people, you heard it here first. Duchess Swan says she’s not saying she doesn’t have a plan.” Then Blondie hurried through the hall, trying to find another General Villainy student to interview.
Duchess quickly ate her meal. Then, with graceful steps, she slipped between onlookers and made her way outside. She could go to the ballet studio and find solitude for her thoughts. But there was one other place where she could be alone.
After crawling into some shrubbery, Duchess closed her eyes and willed the transformation. Fortunately, the turning of arms into wings and mouth into beak was a painless process. Even the elongation of her neck didn’t hurt. Another fortunate fact was that she didn’t need to worry about her clothes. They magically disappeared, and reappeared on her body when she turned herself back into a human.
Transformation complete, she waddled out of the shrubs and jumped into her favorite Ever After High pond. Pirouette greeted her with a friendly nod, then went back to eating water bugs. The other swans were used to Duchess’s intrusion. They didn’t hiss at her or chase her away, as they did with other birds. Even though she was different from them, they allowed her to swim freely.
A unicorn statue stood in the center, spouting water from its horn. Water lilies covered the pond’s surface. Duchess slowly paddled her webbed feet. The waxy, round leaves parted as she glided through.
This was a lovely way to spend the evening. But as much as she enjoyed these moments with Pirouette at her side, with the water below and the starlit sky above, she was completely aware that she did not want to be in this form forever after.
Stop thinking such things, she told herself. You are not a Rebel like Raven.
Students walked past, some holding hands, some in groups. They paid no attention to Duchess. To their eyes, she looked exactly like the other swans. And she paid no attention to her fellow students, until the scent of deliciousness tickled her beak.
Ginger sat on a bench at the side of the pond. She opened a box of pastries and tossed some crumbs into the water. Pirouette and the others rushed over and began to peck at the crumbs. Duchess wasn’t hungry, and she was about to turn away when Ginger’s MirrorPhone rang. Duchess wouldn’t have eavesdropped, except she heard the word thronework. She swam over, pretending to be interested in the soggy offerings.
“Yes, Mother, it’s true, I’m supposed to do something rotten and nasty by the end of school on Friday.” Ginger fidgeted on the bench. “I know, Mother. I don’t want to disappoint you, but—” She sighed. “But—”
Ginger’s mom kept interrupting. Duchess couldn’t hear what she was saying, because her voice was muffled.
With the phone held to her ear, Ginger reached into the box and pulled out a moon pie. As she took a big bite, moonbeams shot out from between the layers of cake. “Yes, Mother, but—” Ginger chewed and nodded, listening to some sort of lecture. Duchess could only imagine: Do what you’re supposed to do. Uphold the family reputation. Do your duty. Blah, blah, blah.
Two swans pushed against Duchess as they stretched their necks for more crumbs.
“Of course I have a plan, Mother.” Ginger set the moon pie back in the box. “I thought of it all by myself. On Wednesday morning, I’m going to sprinkle sandman powder onto my popular cinnamon trolls and serve them for breakfast. Then everyone will fall asleep and miss their first classes of the day.” She smiled proudly, her teeth all chocolaty. “Then I’ll wake everyone up with super-strong hocus lattes.”
A shrieking sound burst out of the MirrorPhone’s speaker.
“No, Mother, I don’t need one of your recipes. I’m not going to poison anyone.” Ginger waved at Ashlynn Ella, who was walking past. “Okay, gotta go, Mother. Bye!” Ginger tossed the rest of the crumbs into the pond, then hurried off to join her friends.
Sandman powder doesn’t sound very evil, Duchess thought. And many students might be happy to miss their first class. With that sort of plan, Ginger surely wouldn’t become the Next Top Villain. Duchess made a mental note to avoid the cinnamon trolls on Wednesday morning.
The problem remained—even though Ginger’s plan didn’t sound terribly rotten and nasty, Duchess still needed a plan of her own.
It was getting late. More stars appeared in the sky. A group of cleaning fairies flew back toward the forest, leaving trails of blue and green glitter in their wake. Most of the students had headed indoors because it was time to get to bed. A good night’s sleep was important for a ballerina, so Duchess swam to the edge of the pond and was about to step onto the damp grass when she heard familiar voices. Mr. Badwolf and Headmaster Grimm had stopped for a hushed conversation. Duchess floated into the tall reeds, then cocked her head, listening.
“I’m getting mirror calls from parents day and night,” the headmaster said. “This Rebels nonsense has caused quite a stir. We’re supposed to be teaching traditions here, not rebellion.”
“We do our best,” Mr. Badwolf said with a cough.
Duchess swam a bit closer. Then she straightened her neck so she could see over the tops of the reeds. As usual, Headmaster Grimm was dressed in a long tailored wool jacket. A pocket watch hung from his waistcoat. He wrung his hands in a worried way. “The Charmings are threatening to send their children elsewhere if we don’t get this situation under control. So is the Ella family. If we lose important royal families and their funding, we might have to close the school.” His baritone voice was tight and higher than normal. “Educating the next Evil Queen is one of our most important duties.”
“I’m afraid Raven Queen shows little interest,” Mr. Badwolf said.
“Then we must begin to train someone to replace her, just in case. We need to be prepared.” Headmaster Grimm stroked his gray mustache. “Do any of the students in your General Villainy class show promise?”
Mr. Badwolf growled. “Unfortunately, they are the most pathetic group I’ve ever taught. There’s evil in their blood—no doubt about that—but they’ve diluted it with good intentions and… generosity.” He coughed, as if the word had choked him. “Ginger brought home-baked goodies to share.” He growled again. “Ms. Swan kept asking to be transferred. Why did you insist that she take the class?”
Duchess nearly honked, she was so hexcited by this question. Would she finally get an answer? As she held perfectly still, Headmaster Grimm looked around. Then he cleared his throat and said, “This is highly classified information, Mr. Badwolf. But I believe, as do others, that Duchess Swan has a black swan side that might make her the perfect candidate for Evil Queen status.”
“Black swan side?” Mr. Badwolf asked.
“Yes.” Headmaster Grimm turned toward the pond and pointed to the swans that were swimming near the fountain. “The trumpeter is beautiful to behold, graceful and elegant, just like our Ms. Swan. But if you disturb a trumpeter, trespass through its territory, or threaten its nest, it will hiss like a cobra and attack with the viciousness of a wolf. That is the black swan side.”
“And Duchess?”
“She has the instinct within her to do whatever it takes to protect her territory, and, in this case, her territory is her perfect grades. She will not allow herself to fail your challenge, Mr. Badwolf. She will do whatever it takes to succeed. Even if that means becoming a villain.”
“Ah, I see,” Mr. Badwolf said. “But what about her destiny? The swan princess is not a villain. By putting her in my class, are you not going against tradition? Are you not, in a small way, doing exactly what you don’t want the students to do—choosing a new destiny?”
Headmaster Grimm snorted. “We are not Rebels, if that’s what you’re getting at, Mr. Badwolf. We are the upholders of tradition! Our stories depend upon an Evil Queen. And if Raven will not step into her mother’s shoes, then someone else must. We cannot let those shoes go empty.”
“Interesting.”
“Have you noticed how Ms. Swan looks at the other students who have Happily Ever Afters? She wants one desperately. If she passes General Villainy, then she’ll move on to Advanced Villainy and begin to learn the dark spells. It wouldn’t take her long to realize that by controlling dark magic, she could change the curse that awaits her.”
Duchess’s wings went limp with shock.
“If she changed the curse, then she wouldn’t have to live her life as a bird.” Mr. Badwolf nodded. “Now I understand. With that kind of motivation, how could she not want to become the Next Top Villain?”
“And once she has mastered dark magic, she may show the potential to be the next Evil Queen, saving all of us from the end of Ever After as we know it.” The headmaster’s voice faded as he and Mr. Badwolf walked away.
As the pond water lapped at her belly, Duchess floated, trying to understand what she’d just overheard. She could change her fate and Headmaster Grimm would approve?
But that would make her a… Rebel!