Sleeping Beauty: The One Who Took the Really Long Nap Read online

  For Stu, who I cannot write a book without

  And for Mike, my real-life Prince Charming

  CONTENTS

  TITLE PAGE

  DEDICATION

  PROLOGUE

  PART ONE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  COPYRIGHT

  When I finally reached her, all was completely still. The room was bathed in the kind of quiet where you couldn’t hear a bee buzz or a toad croak even if you listened really, really hard. The dust motes hung motionless in the shafts of sunlight. The only sounds were my breath and my footfalls on the rug.

  I gazed down at her, asleep on her bed of feather pillows. Never before had I seen beauty like this. Even if Mother had not long ago banned from the castle anything that might be considered pleasing to the eye, I would have never been prepared for this. Little did Mother know that tucked away on the grounds of our very own castle lay such loveliness.

  The painting I had seen of the girl did not fully capture her true beauty. Her complexion was two part peaches and one part cream. Lips of cherry red. Raven-black hair, so silky it glowed. Her clothing was endearingly old-fashioned — layers of petticoats, a three-pointed collar, sleeves of lace. No one wore that anymore, but on her it looked fetching.

  This was my moment. Here lay my destiny. I knew it as well as I knew my own name. (Okay, perhaps that last part was not exactly true because Mother had never given me a name. Nevertheless, I knew what I had to do.)

  Before I got too nervous, I bent down and ever-so-gently let my lips fall upon hers. They felt as soft as they looked. While I had always assumed that the recipient of my first kiss would actually be awake and standing upright, it was pretty good as far as first kisses went.

  I pulled away. At first, nothing happened. Then her eyelids began to flutter, and suddenly her eyes were wide open. I jumped back in surprise.

  The girl sat bolt upright and stared at me. Her eyes were brighter than the bluest sky, although still a bit unfocused. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a squeak came out. She raised her hand to her neck in alarm, then cleared her throat a few times. She tried again. This time her voice was loud and clear.

  “Pardon my rudeness,” she said, “but WHO THE HECK ARE YOU?”

  “Me?” I asked, surprised. No one had ever asked me that question before.

  “Yes you,” she said, looking wildly around the room. “Who are you?”

  “Why, I’m … I’m the Prince,” I replied, bowing gracefully.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked breathlessly.

  Her flushed cheeks were a deeper red now, and I was momentarily silenced by her beauty. I finally realized she was waiting for an answer.

  “What am I doing here?” I said. “Why, I’m awakening you, Princess Rose.”

  Her nose crinkled in genuine confusion. “Awakening me? Awakening me from what?”

  I stared at her. She honestly did not know what had happened to her! This required a delicate answer. I did not have much training in delicacy, but I tried my best. “You have been asleep for a hundred years. I do not know why. But you have lain in your castle all this time — hidden by vines and trees — protected with fairy magic from the outside world until I came to awaken you.” Unsure what else to do, I bowed again, so deeply I almost tipped over.

  The color drained from her face, then slowly refilled. Her eyes shook off a bit of their fogginess. She tried to get out of bed but stumbled. Her legs hadn’t been used for a very long time. I quickly rushed to her aid. I held out my arm for support, and she took it. When she stood, the top of her head reached my nose. She examined my face for a moment.

  “The past is slowly coming back to me,” she finally said, letting go of my arm to smooth out her skirts. “Thank you for being the one to awaken me. Others have tried and failed.”

  I felt my eyebrows shoot up. “How can you know of the other attempts to enter your castle?”

  She shook her head wearily. “It is a very long story. And I know nothing about you. I am not used to being alone in the company of a young man.”

  “Nor I a young woman,” I replied. “Let us sit and get to know each other. I am quite sure we have a lot to talk about.”

  Before she could reply, something changed in the air around us. It seemed to thin out in some way. The room took on a dreamlike quality. A stab of fear hit me in the gut. Was I dreaming? Was the real me asleep outside the old castle where I’d spent so many frustrated nights? I saw her trying to reach for me, but it was too late — she was fading away.

  All I could see was the space around her.

  It was vast, and empty.

  On the day I was born, the heavens themselves opened up to shine rays of welcome down upon me. Or at least that’s what Mama said. Mama wasn’t born into royalty, like Papa, who was a prince before becoming a king, so she could get away with saying quaint things like that. She also said my nose was as cute and round as a ladybug’s behind, and pretty much everyone knows ladybugs don’t even have behinds.

  When the midwife announced, “It’s a girl!” whoops of joy and tears of happiness filled the air. Papa gave the whole kingdom the day off (except for the dung heap cleaners, but that is to be expected with an important job like that). I was placed in a bassinet overflowing with fine linen and feathers, and was swaddled in a blanket made from the efforts of the kingdom’s finest silkworms. Life was good.

  A few days after my birth, it was time for the ceremony where I would be officially named and have gifts bestowed upon me from the good fairies of the realm. Truly, it was only a formality, because I already had a name. My parents had dreamed of a child for many years, and they had long ago decided what to call me — if I were a girl, I would be named Gertrude (Gertie for short) after a favorite great-aunt of Mama’s. But when I arrived, looking all rosy and perfect, they knew only one name would do me justice. I would be called Rose.

  One by one the fairies arrived for my big day. The seven of them would be my godmothers and would protect me in times of trouble. Not that anyone expected any trouble, of course, which was fortunate because fairies were notoriously fickle, and often disappeared for decades at a time.

  The ceremony began, and my name was officially added to the royal ledger, inscribed with ink made of pure silver. Papa had spared no expense for this event. While Mama fed me from a crystal baby bottle, the fairies were treated to a great feast of peacock and lamb and chocolate truffles. Their table was shorter than everyone else’s since none of the fairies was taller than a yardstick. Their place settings were made of solid gold.