(eng) Liz Braswell - Twisted Tales 02 by Once Upon a Dream

Author:Once Upon a Dream [Dream, Once Upon a]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

And that’s when she finally woke up.

SOMEONE WAS SHAKING HER.

Aurora rolled over and saw concerned-looking adults—serious people in somber clothing and gold medallions of office. They crowded over her.

“Wake up, Your Highness. It’s over. You’re queen now. Maleficent has been overthrown. Your parents were, unfortunately, lost. We need you back at the castle. We can get you there. It’s all a terrible mess.”

Aurora blinked and let herself be pulled up. They were very insistent. And a little rough. She turned once to look at the prince, who should still have been sleeping, but it was like she couldn’t see him.

“Phillip,” she croaked, her voice still hoarse from the contest.

“Later,” the apparent leader said. “You’ve a lot to take care of, my lady. Excuse me, I mean Your Majesty. I am the castellan—I worked for your father, the king. And now you.”

She was shuffled to a waiting carriage, golden and royal, pulled by four beautiful chestnut horses. Before she could give them a friendly pet, the door was opened, she was ushered in, and they immediately set off.

She was bounced around and sleepy and sick, and in no time at all, they were out of the forest and pulling up to the castle—which was neither covered in vines nor looked like it ever had been; this was how she knew she was finally awake.

The moat was back and filled with water, and they crossed over the drawbridge and through a bailey uninterrupted by survival gardens or rain catchers. It was crowded with normal life: peasants, tradesmen, merchants, farmers, and animals.

“You must speak to the people,” the castellan was saying. He held her arm as she stumbled out of the carriage, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene. “Your parents would have wanted this.”

“My parents?” She blinked in the bright late-morning light.

“Please, Your Majesty, there is time to explain all that later,” he said. There were lines on the castellan’s face and a single age spot near his serious, straight brows. He wasn’t a pretty person or an ugly person, either. That was another reason she knew she was awake and this wasn’t a dream.

They pushed her into the castle and up a flight of stairs; someone hastily threw a purple velvet cape around her shoulders to cover up her rags; someone else stuck a very golden—and very heavy—diadem on her head. Her neck bent under its weight. A scepter was placed in her right hand.

Then she was shoved in front of a large window—the same window where she had last seen Maleficent, ordering her capture.

Horns sounded. The chaotic crowds below suddenly turned, almost as one, to look up at her.

Aurora stood as tall and erect as she could, trying not to gape like a goldfish. She was still sleepy, and her mind was clouded and the crown was heavy and the cape was hot. There were strands of hair in her face that were very tickly.

What should she say? What could she say to all of those expectant faces

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