But a loud caw interrupted her. Looking toward it, Aurora saw Diaval perched on a branch. The raven’s feathers were ruffled and she could see judgment in his black eyes. She held back a groan. Diaval was supposed to be on her side. He was supposed to be her friend.
Stepping away from Lief and out of Diaval’s line of sight, Aurora addressed the faeries. She knew that they were upset and that they thought humans were to blame for the disappearances of their friends and family. She also knew that it was up to her to reassure them even if she didn’t have any answers — yet. “I am queen of the Moors and I am human,” she said.
Instantly the room grew quiet. Sighing, Aurora moved toward her throne and sat down. The large chair was made of soft leaves and green grasses. It rose out of the natural floor of her castle and seemed to embrace her as she sat. Two flower faeries rushed to her sides and began braiding her hair. “I realize it’s been an adjustment,” Aurora went on, “but the borders were opened for a reason. In time, you will get used to the occasional human. You just need to give them a chance — the same chance you gave me.”
Her words were met with mixed reactions. Some of the faeries shifted their feet. Others fluttered their wings faster. A few even whispered among themselves. But no one made a move to leave. “What is going on here today?” Aurora said, becoming exasperated. She was standing now, and her voice was a bit stronger. “In case you didn’t know, I live here!” And this castle has gotten entirely too crowded, she added silently. “Everyone, please, wait outside!”
Flopping back into her throne, Aurora exhaled as she watched the faeries file out of the room. To her dismay, they didn’t continue walking and leave the palace. Instead, they lined up right beyond the door, eager to wait and be heard by their queen. Closing her eyes, Aurora rested her head against the back of the throne and inhaled. It was going to be a long day.
“A word, Your Majesty?”
Opening one eye, Aurora saw Flittle hovering in front of her. The small pixie looked the same as she had the day Aurora had met her years earlier. Her curly brown hair, the ends tipped with blue that matched her dress, bounced as she fluttered nervously. Even when Aurora had been a young girl, Flittle had been flighty and prone to bouts of nervousness. She was acting even more anxious than usual. Hovering beside Flittle were Thistlewit and Knotgrass. Together, the three pixies were looking at her with odd expressions. She loved them. After all, they had raised her — for the most part. But that day she wasn’t sure she could tolerate their antics.
“Pixies,” she chastised, “you need to wait your turn like everybody else.”
“This can’t wait, Your Grace,” Knotgrass said, shaking her head. She brushed her hands over her simple red dress. “We know you’ll want to see this!”
Flittle nodded. “We could hardly believe our luck,” she said.
Holding out her hand, Knotgrass revealed a tiny spiked ball.
Aurora sat up. “Is that—”
Before she could finish, the “ball” transformed into a hedgehog faerie.
“Pinto!” Aurora said, clapping her hands together happily at the sight of her sweet and wonderful friend. The little hedgehog faerie often disappeared for weeks at a time, and it warmed Aurora’s heart to see her now. Perhaps the day was taking a turn for the better.
“She has come bearing gifts,” Flittle explained. “The first sap from the warming trees.”
“It’s for the big day!” Thistlewit blurted out.
Aurora cocked her head. “What big day?” she asked. She saw Flittle give the little blond pixie a hard nudge with her elbow.
Just then, Pinto leapt onto the arm of the throne and raced toward the top. Reaching out, the hedgehog faerie grabbed the delicate crown off Aurora’s head, and then, as Aurora let out a shout of protest, Pinto jumped into the crown and ran. It spun like a hamster wheel across the ground.
“Pinto!” Aurora said, leaping to her feet and giving chase as the faerie darted away. “I’m not in the mood for that!” Just when she thought the day couldn’t get more exhausting…
Ignoring Aurora, Pinto kept going. She ran out of the throne room, down the halls, out of the castle, and into the Moors beyond. Aurora followed, her hands clenched in tight fists as she muttered under her breath. Usually, she liked to walk slowly through her kingdom, taking in the lush beauty and saying hello to the various faeries she passed. But not that day. She ignored their greetings and didn’t even notice how bright the sun was shining or that the sky was a brilliant blue. Instead, she kept her eyes glued on Pinto.
Reaching the edge of a small lake, Pinto hesitated. It was just long enough for Aurora to reach her. Leaning down, she grabbed for Pinto — and her crown. “Got you!” she started to say. But as she spoke, her foot slipped on the muddy ground and she fell forward, landing in the water with a splash.
“What has gotten into all of you?” Aurora yelled, pushing herself to her feet. She roughly brushed off the mud and water that covered the front of her dress. Her feet were drenched in muck. As she brushed a strand of hair out of her face, she felt a line of dirt follow her finger. As Aurora looked at the three pixies, her eyes narrowed. She usually enjoyed a fun game of tag or hide-and-seek in the Moors. But not that day.
“Well, since you asked…” Thistlewit began. But before she could finish, Knotgrass slammed her into the mud, smooshing her face down and turning her green dress brown.
Aurora gasped. The pixies were known for picking on each other. She couldn’t count the times she had woken up to their squabbling when they had lived in their small forest cottage. But this? It was downright ridiculous.
“There she goes, Your Majesty!” Flittle exclaimed.
Aurora turned and saw Pinto. The faerie had grabbed hold of the crown again and was running it toward a large weeping willow. Aurora followed.
Pulling back the long branches that fell to the ground, Aurora stepped inside. Behind her, the branches dropped, and Aurora suddenly found herself in silence. The soft green leaves muffled the noise from outside and enclosed her in a canopy with the sunlight dappling through. The space was warm and inviting.
“Pinto!” Aurora called, her voice sounding loud in the silence. “Come out here now.”
When no hedgehog faerie appeared, Aurora moved farther into the natural room. In the center, on a rock near the trunk of the willow, she saw her crown. Aurora picked it up and held it in her hand. So much fuss for a thing that was merely a symbol. She hadn’t even really wanted a crown when Maleficent first made her queen of the Moors. But she had given in when presented with the beautiful headpiece made of the branches of her kingdom. Staring at the royal symbol, Aurora realized that so much of her life was about compromise, ruling, and helping her subjects. In the silence beneath the willow tree, she noted that it had been days since she had been truly alone.
Just then, she heard a soft rustling. Aurora turned, expecting to see Pinto. But to her surprise, she found herself looking at Phillip. Even now, five years after they had met, he made her feel weak in the knees and undeniably, indescribably happy. Usually.
“Phillip!” she said. “I’m so happy you’re here.” Although I wish I weren’t in such a state, she added silently, keenly aware of her mud-covered clothing.
The prince moved closer. A lock of his brown hair fell over his eyes, and Aurora resisted the urge to reach out and brush it back. She was always telling him teasingly that for a prince, he was remarkably relaxed about his grooming. But secretly she loved the touch of wildness about him. “And I you,” he said, his voice sounding oddly shaky. “Of course. Since I’m the one who came here. To see you.”