Free The Straw King (Dorothy Must Die Novella) by Danielle Paige Page A

don’t know what on earth she’s been doing there, but it certainly wasn’t anything useful.”
    “But what about my education plan? What about the School of Oz . . . ,” he asked, needing to know.
    “I think you and I could convince her to do just about anything,” Glinda countered. But he suddenly felt like he was the one being convinced.
    The solarium doors opened, and a young girl walked into the room. The first thing the Scarecrow noticed about her was that she was extraordinarily beautiful. She had huge, luminous green eyes, and thick, inky-black hair fell in heavy curls to her waist. Her skin was clear and glowing, and she was the picture of youthful innocence. But unlike Glinda, who played up her beauty with elegant clothes and artful makeup, the fairy princess wore a simple dress. She was barefoot, and carrying a bunch of flowers.
    “Look what I brought from the garden!” she said excitedly as she ran up to them. “Glinda, the star lilies are blooming!” She held up the white blossoms. Tiny, real constellations sparkled among the petals, winking in and out.
    “Ozma, those are weeds,” Glinda said. With a wave of her hand the blossoms withered and turned to glitter. “We don’t bring weeds into the palace, dearest. Now, I want you to meet someone.” She glanced down at Ozma’s bare feet and sighed.
    “Shoes,” Glinda said, and with another balletic move of her arm, brown leather shoes appeared on Ozma’s feet. Glinda scrutinized her.
    “Ears,” she said, and big blossoms appeared, covering Ozma’s delicate little ears. “Legend has it fairy ears can hear your deepest desires. We can’t have that, now, can we?”
    Ozma nodded obediently, then her eyes fell on Scarecrow.
    “I know who you are!” Ozma exclaimed, turning to the Scarecrow and going down on one knee. “You’re the king, aren’t you?”
    “I—it’s a bit complicated right now,” the Scarecrow said, but Glinda interrupted him.
    “He was the king, my dear, but he was only keeping the throne safe until the real ruler of Oz came along.” Glinda winked at the Scarecrow over Ozma’s head, and he saw immediately what she was doing. “In fact, he’s been waiting all along for that person to return to the Emerald City, and she very nearly has. Do you know who she is?” Ozma, wide-eyed, shook her head. Glinda threw back her head and laughed.
    “Why, she’s you, dearest! You are the direct descendant of Lurline, the fairy who created Oz out of the Deadly Desert, as you know. But that doesn’t just make you part of a wonderful family. It means you are the rightful Queen of Oz! That’s whyI’ve brought you back from Gillikin Country.”
    Ozma gasped, and her hands flew to her face in shock. “But I—I don’t know how to be a queen, Glinda!”
    “Why do you think I’ve been so insistent you learn about manners and fashion, my dear? But you needn’t worry. The Scarecrow is incredibly experienced, and we’ll both be right next to you, ready to help you with anything you need.”
    Ozma frowned. “Isn’t being queen about much more than manners and fashion?”
    The faintest note of impatience crept into Glinda’s voice. “If you want to be a queen, you must look like a queen,” she said.
    Ozma nodded solemnly. “I understand.”
    “Tomorrow, we’ll take my army to the Emerald City,” Glinda said. “We’ll get rid of Jinjur once and for all. And then, my dear, we’ll put you where you belong—on the throne of Oz.”
    “I can hardly believe it,” Ozma said. “Am I really meant to be the queen? Are you sure you don’t mind, Your Highness?”
    Glinda shot the Scarecrow a meaningful look. “Glinda is right,” he said. “I couldn’t sit on the throne knowing Oz’s rightful ruler was nearby. You’re the Queen of Oz, just as Glinda says.” Ozma’s green eyes filled with tears, and she reached for his hand, overcome with emotion.
    Really, the Scarecrow thought, she was just a child. She should be in school.