Free Sleeping Beauty by Maureen McGowan Page B

walked along the corridor she’d been scolded for running down as a child. A guard held her hand as she struggled to stay upright on the high heels Jenny had insisted she wear. She couldn’t comprehend why grown-ups wore these things. She much preferred to be in shoes designed for running and leaping.
    But if putting on this dumb dress and shoes would please her father, she could suffer through wearing them for a few hours. Making him happy would help butter him up, and she needed all the parental coaxing she could muster to convince her father to let her learn some
slayer skills. Part of her believed her father’s claim that he could fix everything and find a way to make the vampire queen lift the curse—or prevent it altogether. But if there was even a chance she might end up alone in the night someday, she needed training. Surely she could make her father understand.
    She also hoped that once he saw her tonight, the truth about this dress would be obvious. She wasn’t the type of girl suited to being dressed up in anything frilly. She was too tall, too skinny, too pale, her features too severe and boyish. Even worse, with the makeup that Jenny had rubbed onto her cheeks and lips, Lucette felt she looked like a clown.
    The guards opened the back doors to the reception room and bright light poured out toward her. She blinked and raised her hand to her eyes to adjust to the light.
    â€œThe Princess Lucette,” a deep male voice said, and someone nudged her forward. She teetered on the ridiculous shoes, her eyes focused down to see where she was going, and prayed she wouldn’t fall flat on her face. A collective gasp rose in the room, followed by polite applause. A huge crowd was gathered in the reception hall, and at the front of the crowd were dozens of boys. What the heck was going on?
    â€œFor goodness sake, straighten up,” her father said as he stepped next to her. Her mother stepped up to her other side.
    â€œI can barely walk in these shoes,” she said to her mother, who looked delicate and elegant in a pale blue gown. “They pinch.”
    â€œI told you it was too soon for this,” her mother snapped at her father. Lucette bit her lip and felt guilt drench through her. Even while trying to prevent it from happening, she’d caused yet more harsh words between her parents.

    Her father tucked her gloved hand through the crook of his arm, the way he did with her mother at big events, and pulled her forward to the raised platform that was covered with vases full of daisies. She sneezed, and a collective twitter rose from the crowd, but just as quickly died down. A fire rose inside her. They were laughing at her, and she could only imagine how red her cheeks looked now through the makeup. She raised a hand to wipe off some of the rouge.
    â€œStop that.” Her mother grabbed her hand and held onto it. “You’ll ruin your gloves.”
    Lucette fought the impulse to turn and run. As if running in those shoes—or with the crinolines under her heavy skirt—were even possible. She felt as if the bulky clothes had doubled her weight.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” she asked her mother.
    Before her mother could respond, her father raised his hands to silence the crowd. “Thank you for coming this evening,” he said, his deep voice failing to reassure Lucette the way it normally did. “It gives me great pleasure to stand before you all today and introduce my daughter, the Princess Lucette.”
    Polite applause ensued, along with less polite hoots from some of the boys. Squirming under the itchy crinoline, Lucette turned to her mother to ask for a better explanation, but her mother raised a finger to her lips.
    Her father gestured to his left. “Young men wishing to express their desire to court my daughter, please form a line over here.”
    Noise filled the room as a hundred boys stampeded into line. They pushed and shoved for a few