Once Upon a Dream (22 page)

This was also how she knew she was finally awake.

Men and women of all stations loitered at one end of the room, looking impatient and angry.

Another important-looking fellow immediately approached her. From his black velvet ensemble and pretty buttons that looked like coins, Aurora decided he was the treasurer.

“Your Majesty,” he said. “The emergency coffers are dangerously low. Should there be a blight this year, we have nothing left to rely on.”

“A blight?”

“Of
wheat
,” he said impatiently. “As there was a decade ago.”

“A wheat blight,” she said, still unsure what that meant.

“Your Majesty, what shall we do?” he pressed politely, if impatiently.

“What…protocol…does one normally follow in these cases?” she asked, wondering if she had a right to feel proud about how well she had phrased the question. Didn’t it sound regal?

“I recommend we raise taxes immediately,” he said with a shrug. “An emergency tax of an additional five percent multure, plus a geld of two and a half. That should cover it.”

“All right,” she said slowly. “Let’s do that….”

There were howls of fury and stomping. She jumped in her throne, shocked by the outburst. The treasurer rolled his eyes.

“What is wrong?”

“They don’t want to pay taxes,” the castellan explained from where he stood on the other side of the throne—with her in between him and the angry crowd. “They think running a kingdom is free.”

“What’s a tax?” Aurora whispered.

The castellan gaped at her. Then he shook his head and turned away.

She turned back to the treasurer.

“What’s a tax?” she repeated.

“Your Majesty,” he said through gritted teeth. “Now is not the time for a lesson in basic economics. Now is the time for swift, decisive leadership. We need a decision. Now.”

“I can’t without knowing what all this means!” she protested.

“What kind of queen is
she
?” a storm-faced, craggy old man with religious vestments spat. “What
is
this we’ve been left with?”

Aurora looked desperately through the crowd, hoping for a friendly face. But
all
of their expressions ranged from hate to confusion to disappointment. She wanted to run. She just wanted to get out of the room as fast as possible and run as far as she could. Back to the village where they had found her. Back to the woods. Back to her old hiding places in the dreamworld castle. She gripped the armrests on the throne to keep herself from leaping up and fleeing.

“What do I do?” she asked.

The castellan just shook his head again in disgust.

“What do I do?” she asked again, louder.

“WHAT DO I DO? WHAT DO I DO?”
she screamed.

No one would answer.

“WHAT DO I DO,
what do I do, what do I do, what do I do?”

Phillip was shaking her.

She screamed hoarsely and constantly until her eyes finally registered the hay around her, the night outside, Phillip’s face lit by the stars.

“Rose? Are you okay? Rose? It was just a nightmare.” Then he paused, realizing how ironic and weird that sounded.

She blinked for a moment, taking it all in.

Then she began to weep.

“What’s the matter? Rose?”

He put his arms around her and pressed her face to his shoulder. Now someone was finally holding her, but she was too overwrought to enjoy it properly.

“My
gifts
,” she said, still coughing a little. “The fairies gave me
grace
and
beauty
and
song
. That’s what Maleficent was trying to trap me with: beauty and song.”

“Yes,” Phillip said, a little confused. His deep brown eyes were even darker with concern. He picked a strand of hair out of her face and laid it back with the others. “But we beat her! She didn’t win. She
won’t
win.”

“No,” Aurora Rose said, trying to form the words clearly despite her shakiness and hoarseness. “You don’t get it. They gave me
beauty
and
song
, and then I was left in the woods to grow up for sixteen years before being handed over to you. I don’t know
anything
about ruling. I don’t even really know what
taxes
are. I was in the
woods
in the real world. In the dreamworld, I hid like a mouse and then organized
balls
and
parties.
”

“Oh,” Phillip said.

“Oh,” he said again. “Well, my sisters aren’t exactly being taught how to lead an army into battle….”

“But they’re not an only child!”
she cried, instantly regretting it. Her throat burned. “Even if Maleficent was right—even if my parents were hoping to have a male heir after me, they
didn’t
. Shouldn’t they have had some sort of plan B?”

“Well…”

“And I’ll bet your sisters are taught
something
,” she went on. “I’ll bet they know how to sew or organize the kitchen staff or…”

“Of course,” Phillip said without thinking. “Bianca is known quite widely for her skill in embroidery, actually. And Brigitte began to take over some hostess duties after my mother died. My dad said that she actually had some quite innovative ideas about how to peacefully handle the tolls on the northern trade route….”

The princess let out an incoherent, strangled cry of rage.

“Sorry,” he said quickly.

“
WHAT ARE BEAUTY AND SONG GOOD FOR?
To a princess
or
a queen? It’s not like I could join a wandering band of troubadours. These ‘gifts’ have nothing to do with running a castle or a country. And everything to do with being a perfect pretty wife for the prince I was engaged to marry
when I was a baby
.”

“Hey, now,” Phillip said slowly. “We fell in love….”

“I know, I know, that’s not the point,” she said, irritably scratching her hands through her hair like a crazy person. She sort of remembered loving him, but it was strangely secondhand, mixed in with all the other memories that didn’t feel quite real. Now she had no idea what she felt for him.

She began to weep again. Exhausting, racking sobs from a girl with two false childhoods and too many memories and no past; grace and beauty and song and nothing more. And of course, despite the muddy tracks of tears down her cheeks, dusty with wheat chaff, and her tangled hair, and her strange dress, she was Beautiful.

Phillip hugged her and stroked her hair down.

“Shhh. Try to get some more sleep. Or rest at least. We can’t go anywhere until the sun comes up, so we might as well conserve our strength. I promise: no more nightmares.”

The princess didn’t want to fall asleep again.

But she did, and it was dreamless.

The next morning, she was woken by something uncomfortably sharp cutting into her side. Irritably, she moved aside and saw that it was Phillip’s sword. Despite her resentment, she couldn’t help admiring the delicately traced motifs winding their way up the grip from the pommel, the golden vines and decorated initials, the carefully faceted and inset gems.

She cautiously picked up the blade. It was lighter than she had expected but heavier than she could easily manage. Even to her inexperienced hand, it felt extremely well balanced; though it would take force for her to swing it, she could manipulate the tip easily with just a turn of her wrist. She ran her left hand down its sharp edges, feeling metal that was kept clean and sharp and grew noticeably colder the longer she had it out in the air. There was a tiny recent nick on the left side.

She put it down carefully next to Phillip. She was stretched beyond her physical limits, murky-headed, exhausted, and weak. Apparently, you
did
need sleep in the dreamworld, even once you knew it was a dream.

Phillip slept harder than she, innocent of troubling thoughts and incoherent pasts. It was quite a while before his handsome features began to twitch and his spirit began to surface to the waking world.

Aurora Rose watched him, contemplating his boyish face, which had just begun to lean out in the way of a man. Although her mind kept getting stuck on the concept of love at first sight, she could understand being struck by those looks. And already she was slowly being won over by his optimism and general wholesomeness.

But to promise yourself forever to someone you had just met?

Life in the woods must have taken an even greater toll on her patience and mind than she had thought.

Still…

Some pleasant dream pulled his lips into the tiniest smile.

Aurora Rose leaned forward with some idea of trying a kiss—a small one, before he woke up—just to see…

But suddenly, he was moving, stretching, and running a hand through his hair.

The princess hastily sat backward. He didn’t notice.

“Morning! Boy, I haven’t spent a night in a haystack in
years
,” he said amiably.

“You’ve done this
before
?” she asked in surprise.

The prince looked chagrined. “You sort of chafe under the whole ‘crown prince’ bit after a while. You sneak out for a good adventure with your best lads. Hunting, hitting the taverns…waking up in an orchard with your head pounding and
starving
for that grouse you swore you were going to get…Don’t look at me like that; I’m not the
first
prince to do so.”

She wasn’t sure what look her face made. It was an amazing, rebellious idea. She had never considered
actually running away
from anyone, even her aunts, except for that one night in the forest.

“Was…was your father angry?”

“Oh, you have
no idea
,” Phillip said with a rueful grin. “He took my sword and bow away and forbade the stables from releasing my horse, Samson, to me. And I had an extra chapter of Cicero every night
for two weeks.
CICERO! The man couldn’t end a sentence if there was a dagger at his throat. I mean, I guess there was, eventually. But it was totally worth it, though. For me, I mean. Not Cicero.”

They got up, brushed away the worst clumps of dried grass and dirt, adjusted their clothes, and set off again. The village was starting to come fully alive in the morning dream sun. The woodsmen had left a long time ago, but the other men and women were tending their kitchen gardens, heading out to the fields, going to forage in the forest with baskets to fill with berries and mushrooms. The
tink tink tink
of a smithy cold-forging something small echoed across the flat ground. The animals grazed or wandered or dozed or chewed contentedly. A couple of old palfreys hung around a tree, heads together like a pair of gossips.

“We could steal a horse…” Aurora Rose said slowly. “That would be faster than walking.”

“No,” Phillip said immediately. “No, we couldn’t.”

“But it’s just a dream—who cares?”

Even as she said it, she wasn’t sure if she believed that statement herself.

“So we could just steal and kill and rape and plunder and it doesn’t matter?” Phillip said as if it was something he had already deliberated in his own head. “I don’t believe that. We’re still the people we were when we were awake. It’s not…it’s not always the
result
of the decision that’s important; it’s how we make those decisions. It’s the sort of people we are. Oh, I’m not making any sense.”

“Yes, you are. I wouldn’t know how else to put it. There’s more to it for me, though. I’ve lived two lives, and each seems equally real—and equally imaginary. I was telling myself before we met—this time—that all I have is my own eyes and hands to tell me what’s real. Who knows how long I’ll be living in
this
version of my life? It
seems
real to me. So I’ll act like it is. Whether it’s fairies or castles or evil queens or thorns…”

She stopped, thinking about the thorns.

How they disappeared under her touch.

“Yes? What is it? Thorns?” Phillip put a hand on her back, trying to push her along.

How her dress had changed…

“I want porridge,” she said, unmoving.

“
Porridge?
Look, I know you’re hungry—I am, too,
famished
—but we can’t linger in the village anymore. We can’t trust
anyone
; you’ve seen that. We’ll grab something along the way. Nuts, a grouse, maybe…just talking about one earlier made me hungry….”

Aurora Rose shook her head and set her jaw. “In the last few months at the castle—or minutes, or whatever they are in the real world—I started to see things. Things I
wanted
to see. Pictures of the way the world was before—well, before the fake apocalypse was supposed to have happened. I saw a vision of a bunny.”

“A
bunny
?”

“Yes, a bunny. I wanted more than anything to see and touch a real rabbit. And one appeared. And then the fairies appeared. And then when I was escaping, I sort of wished that the thorns that held me would let me go. And…they did.”

Phillip looked at her, still confused.

“They did?”

“Could you please stop just repeating the last thing I said and actually
listen
to me? It’s
my dream. My
touching the spindle caused all this. I’m the first one who fell asleep under her spell. It’s why Maleficent had to lie and make up a sort of reason for us all to be trapped together;
she doesn’t have complete control of this world
. Or whatever it is. It’s part of me. You said so yourself.”