There was a small bouquet from my family and a few other hand-picked arrangements, one with squished flowers that I assumed Maxine picked with her less-than-dainty troll hands. My head felt too heavy to read all the note cards. Natasha said I was hit with a bunch of the steel swords that rained down from the sky. My arms and legs were nicked up too. “You’re lucky one didn’t lop your head off!” Natasha said as she changed my bandages one last time. “Professor Harlow lost her pinkie in the mess and had to charm it back on.”
? ? ?
Professor Harlow beckons me to her desk with her bandaged hand. While I’m in hospital clothes (a tee and baggy pants), my professor is back to wearing one of her form-fitting velvet gowns. Aldo leaves the Evil Queen’s shoulder and swoops across the room, startling me when he takes a perch on my arm. I wince as he sinks his claws into one of my bandages.
Professor Harlow chuckles—chuckles! “Aldo, I know you’re happy to see Miss Cobbler, but leave her be. She’s still recovering. How do you feel, child?”
“Okay.” I feel like I’ve dropped into a different land with this conversation.
Maybe she’s happier in her office than in her classroom. This room is brighter with all the torches and mirrors of every size and shape along one lavender wall. There is an inviting purple velvet armchair near her fireplace, which has a mantel full of self-help books above it, and on the other wall is a vanity table with lots of bottles and beauty products. I notice the gold mirror she keeps in a glass case has been moved to her office, along with Aldo’s jeweled cage. The Evil Queen sits behind her desk, peering at me fondly.
So weird.
“I’m sorry I’ve asked you to come straight from the infirmary,” Harlow says, “but this matter could not wait.” She smiles, her deep purple lips curving up in the corners of her heavily made-up face. “I brought you here this morning so I could personally thank you.”
I almost fall out of my chair, which, I should add, is so low I have to look up at Harlow’s desk. I wonder if she has it set that way on purpose. “Come again?”
“Not only did you save the princesses, but you also saved me from once again becoming the Evil Queen.” Harlow gives me a rare smile. “My sister would be an orphan right now if you hadn’t stopped me from hurting anyone on Royal Day, and for that, I thank you.”
As with Natasha, now might not be the time to bring up how I was only trying to save Jax. Everyone else was just a happy coincidence. “You’re welcome?” I question. I’ve never heard the professor thank anyone for anything before.
“That’s why I brought you here right from recovery. I wanted to be the first to commend you for your selfless act of bravery. We’d be reading a very different type of scroll this week if you had not broken the bewitchment I was under.”
I lean forward intrigued. Natasha saved some of the old scrolls for me to read when I woke up. She said it would be easier for me to understand what had happened the last few days if I read it myself. “Do you know who cast the spell or sent the gargoyles? Why were so many events sabotaged on Royal Day? Do you think Gottie is behind this? Mr. Harding did go missing and so did his family…”
Harlow’s face darkens. “I see no point in playing guessing games, Miss Cobbler,” she snaps. “Rest assured, Headmistress Flora is working with the staff to figure out who is behind these acts and who could have bewitched someone as powerful as me.”
That’s another thing I didn’t think of. Who could put a spell on the Evil Queen?
Harlow twirls a long, gold amulet that hangs from her neck. “That is why Headmistress Flora is not at our meeting today. She, Cleo, and Wolfington have asked me to speak on their behalf.”
“Speak on their behalf?” I suddenly feel uneasy.
Squawk! Aldo seconds my confusion.
The Wicked Stepmother is the one who runs this school. She’s the one who sent my enrollment notice and escorted me to detention. If I have to deal with someone here, I want it to be her.
“You’re not in trouble, Miss Cobbler.” Harlow adjusts her tiara, which has been slightly tilted since I walked in. “On the contrary. I have good news to share. While you have only served two weeks—three if you count the almost week you’ve been in the infirmary—of your required stay here, your bravery shows you’re more reformed than any of us realized. Only someone who is truly thinking of others could have done what you did. Therefore, Flora and I would like to offer you an early release from the program.”
I feel like someone just pulled my chair out from under me. I jump up. “Seriously?”
“You get to go home,” my professor translates. “Immediately.”