Even teen evil queens need love. Right? (Or at least a handsome sword-fighting minion to do their bidding!)
***
Bad things happen when Rowen is around and the worst part is, she has no idea why until a massive family secret sends her on a fantastica...
"A montage is like a dream that leaves out all the boring parts."
"But what if the part you cut is the important bit?"
"It's only a dream, who cares?"
"But what if it's more than a dream? What if it's your life?"
"Even better! Imagine a life free from boredom!"
"Sounds exhausting."
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Day 1 of the 'Rowen Trying to Learn How to be an Evil Queen' Montage:
"Evil Queen Etiquette, Spoons, Dressing for a Coronation, Ballroom Dance"
Tyra swept past me in her sherbet-pink sparkly gown the size of a circus tent, gossamer wings flapping and fully extended. If you've ever seen Glinda's dress in The Wizard of Oz, Tyra's made that look like office attire. She'd piled her golden hair high atop her head like a wedding cake, the curls studded with opalescent gems that twinkled in the firelight. Around her neck was a tight choker of blood-red rubies that lifted my spirits, as it gave the impression that someone had slit her throat. A girl can dream! She occupied half the room, but if she thought this would intimidate me, Miss Evil Fairy was about to be very disappointed. I was a monster made from a bunch of evil beings, including an Unseelie Fairy, so she was really going to have to up her game.
Mwahaha.
A zap of lightning flashed across my room, giving it an eerie gothic feeling. Then a crack of thunder shook the window. The sky opened, and a deluge of rain slapped against the glass. Out in the garden, apple trees bent over halfway down their trunks, like supplicants.
I smiled.
Don't you love it when the weather matches your mood, like in the movies?
Tyra scowled at the window. "I despise lightning storms! All that electrical magic run amok!" She waved her hand, and the heavy velvet curtains snapped shut.
"The lightning here is made of magic?" I said.
Tyra rolled her eyes. "What else would it be made of?"
"Plasma?"
"You are so uninformed!" Tyra said with a frown. She still looked gorgeous, but let's not tell her. "Preparing you in three weeks is an impossible task, even if you had a familiar."
Before I do anything eviler than accusing Tyra of killing puppies, Vermeil sent a blast of calming magic my way. It enveloped me like a soft blanket, and I silently thanked him.
Still, Tyra was annoying me. So, I soaked in Vermeil's magic from where it clung to my skin, folded it into my own, and behind my back, aimed my zappy magic toward the windows. They flew open, letting in a blast of cold air and rain. Tyra's dress blew out like a parachute, and she had to hold on to the mantel to keep from falling. Served her right for wearing such a dumb dress.
