The Hero's Guide to Saving Your Kingdom (11 page)

“You’d all still be asleep if it weren’t for me,” Liam griped as a handful of grapes bounced off his face.

“You’re despicable,” a woman yelled at him.

“Villain,” hissed another.

“If you people had any idea what your princess was really like…,” Liam mumbled under his breath.

“You monster!” a disgruntled schoolteacher joined in. “Get out of our kingdom!”

“Believe me, I’m trying,” Liam said. He spurred his horse to move on faster but didn’t get past the mob quickly enough to avoid a hail of couscous that was flung in his direction. This was not going to blow over quickly, he realized. Liam had never felt more alone in his life. And to be completely honest, he was bummed about Briar Rose. It was an arranged marriage, so he’d never had any illusions that she would be the perfect girl for him. But he’d at least hoped he’d be able to tolerate her presence.

Fig. 14 EMBARRASSMENT

Liam had a bit of a romantic streak. He’d always envisioned himself sweeping some lovely maiden off her feet someday. But in his dreams, his future bride was someone, well, more like himself—a bold and breathtaking woman who would join him in his thrilling exploits. She was smart and resourceful, like that Rapunzel he’d heard about, or bold and daring, like Cinderella. She sure as heck wasn’t Briar Rose. But those fantasies appeared to be just as dead and gone as his days of being hero-worshipped. Liam didn’t know what to do with himself. So he trotted on, hoping to get as far from “his” people as he could.

Once he reached Sylvaria, he breathed a sigh of relief—not just because he was away from hecklers, but also because the place was just so darn cute. Raccoons and chipmunks scampered among the bright and lively greenery; vibrant wildflowers sprouted up everywhere; blue jays and mockingbirds twittered from the limbs of friendly looking oaks and elms. Sylvaria was the kind of place that made you feel comfy and safe. But looks can be deceiving.

Liam hadn’t gotten far into Sylvaria when he came across a trio of dwarfs cutting wood by the side of the road. They wore heavy beards and even heavier backpacks. They paid no attention to Liam as he rode up to them; they simply continued hacking at logs with their miniature hatchets.

Now, I’m going to assume you’ve never actually met any Sylvarian dwarfs. They’re not like other dwarfs. The dwarfs of Sylvaria are notoriously cranky. If you think about your own grouchiest moment—like, say, the angry reaction you have after stubbing your toe, shouting out in pain, and having somebody tell you, “Oh, be quiet; that didn’t hurt”—that’s how Sylvarian dwarfs behave when they’re happy.

They’re also quite persnickety. It doesn’t take much to get them riled up. For example, they insist on the spelling “dwarves” instead of “dwarfs.” If “wolf” becomes “wolves” and “half” becomes “halves,” they argue, why doesn’t “dwarf” become “dwarves”? The Sylvarian dwarfs once started a war with the Avondellian elves simply because the elves were bragging about the fact that they got to pluralize with a
V
. Prince Liam had never met any Sylvarian dwarfs either, nor was he familiar with their reputation, which is why he decided to ask this trio for directions.

Fig. 15 Sylvarian DWARF

“Excuse me, sirs. Could you tell me if there’s an inn nearby?”

“Are you talking to us?” the first dwarf asked, barely glancing up at Liam from under his jaunty, ear-flapped cap.

“Yes,” said Liam. “I’m unfamiliar with the area, and I need to find a place to rest.”

“Oh, and I suppose you mistook us for a bunch of maps with legs,” said the first dwarf.

“Can’t you see we’re busy here?” barked the second.

“Yes,” said Liam. “I was just hoping you could tell me if there was an inn nearby.”

“There must be an echo around here,” said one of the dwarfs, and the three continued their woodwork.

“I repeated the question because I didn’t get an answer,” Liam snipped. He’d been in a rather foul mood to begin with, and dealing with these grouches only frustrated him further.

“You’ve got goop on your head,” the second dwarf said.

“It’s cantaloupe,” Liam replied.

“Thought so,” said the third dwarf. “I hate melon.”

“I’m not a fan myself,” Liam said. “Now, about that inn…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the first dwarf sneered sarcastically, as he and the others stopped chopping. “I forgot that we’re all supposed to drop what we’re doing whenever a smug stranger comes up to us with a question. Who are you supposed to be, anyway?”

“For your information, I happen to be Prince—” Liam stopped himself. His anger with the dwarfs had peaked, and he was about to give them a royal shouting-down when he remembered his sister’s advice about keeping a low profile. If Briar Rose’s lies about him had spread into Sylvaria, the worst thing Liam could do was to tell these dwarfs his real name.

“Charming,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’m Prince Charming.” It pained him to say those words.

The dwarfs looked at one another, then back to Liam. “No, you’re not,” they said in unison.

“Honestly, I am. Maybe you’ve heard the story....”

“Oh, we know the story,” said the first dwarf. “And you’re not the guy from the story.”

“Really, I am,” Liam said. “I kissed a cursed princess and woke her from a sleeping spell.”

“Yeah, like I said, we know the story. Prince Charming did that, all right,” said the first dwarf. “But that’s not you.”

“Why are you so insistent that I’m not Prince Charming?”

“Because we’ve met Prince Charming, and you’re not him,” the first dwarf replied. “Now get out of here and stop pretending to be someone you’re not.” He and his companions raised their axes in a threatening manner.

That clinches it
, Liam thought.
Briar Rose has definitely gotten to these guys
. She hadn’t, though. Not this time. Like I said, the dwarfs are just really cranky. But Liam left anyway.

A mile or so down the road, he found a nice quiet spot and stopped. He dismounted his horse and sat under a big oak tree to think. He used the bottom of his cape to wipe the cantaloupe mush from his hair.
How have I managed to sink this low, this fast?
he wondered. Despondent and exhausted, he fell asleep.

He was awakened some time later by a tentative voice. “Excuse me, sir?”

Still half-asleep, he squinted through his drowsy haze at two figures standing before him. One was wearing an ornate but ragged white suit that made him look like the leader of a zombie marching band. The second was twice the size of the first and appeared to be half Viking, half bear. “Hey, you!” barked the bigger of the two. “Wake up!”

Liam’s eyes popped open, and he leapt to his feet, his hand going directly to the hilt of his sword. “Stay back!” he warned.

The big, armored man was unimpressed. “Do we really need this guy?” he said to his companion. “Look at him. He’s wearing a cape.”

The smaller man spoke up. “Sorry to startle you. We mean no harm. Are you Prince Charming, by any chance?”

“What?” The question took Liam by surprise. He kept his hand on his sword, ready to unsheathe it.

“Sleeping Beauty’s Prince Charming: Is it you?”

Liam was unsure of how to answer. “Why do you ask?”

“Because we’ve been looking all over for you. We’ve come to ask for your help.”

“My help?” Liam asked.

“Yes,” the dirty-suited man said, while his companion glared menacingly. “We need your assistance rescuing a young maiden from a witch. You’ve, um, you’ve done that kind of thing before, right?”

“It was
a fairy
,” Liam griped. “Ugh, the world would be better off without those stupid bards and their poor fact-checking.”

“Aha!” the man said with a smile. “So you
are
Prince Charming.”

Liam relaxed a bit. “Yes. But I hate that name.”

“So do we,” the stranger rushed to say. The big man grunted in agreement.

“What do you mean?” Liam asked.

“I’m a Prince Charming, too,” the smaller stranger said. He pointed to his companion. “So is he. Although perhaps not so charming right now. If you’ll allow us to explain…”

And Frederic and Gustav filled Liam in on everything that had happened to them thus far. Liam was stunned and intrigued by their tale.

“But how in the world did you find me here?” Liam asked.

“Well, we started asking around to see if anyone knew where ‘Sleeping Beauty’ was supposed to have taken place,” Frederic explained. “One old man said Frostheim, which turned out to be
completely
wrong, so we wasted a lot of time going there. But eventually we ran into a traveling candelabra salesman who told us he was positive there was a Prince Charming in Sylvaria, so we headed here. We worked our way across pretty much the entire kingdom with no luck until we ran into a group of exceptionally rude dwarfs. When we asked them if they knew where Prince Charming was, one of them said, ‘I’ll tell you where he’s
not
. He’s definitely
not
down the road over there, because the guy who just went down the road over there is definitely
not
Prince Charming.’

“It struck us as an odd response, so we decided to look for the person they were talking about. And lo, it was you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s up with those dwarfs,” Liam said. He was beginning to feel his old energy coming back. The knowledge that his heroics were being praised in far-off kingdoms invigorated him. “So where you two come from, the song about me is pretty popular?”

“About
you
?” Gustav smirked. “It’s all about the girl.”

“True,” Liam admitted. “How does that manage to happen anyway?
I
vanquish the villain,
I
save everybody, and somehow it becomes
her
story.”

“We all got the same treatment,” Frederic said. “What can I say, the people love princesses. Something about the fancy dresses, I think.”

“I know,” Liam said. “But ‘The Tale of the Sleeping Beauty’? That doesn’t even sound exciting.” He widened his eyes and wiggled his fingers in mock excitement. “What’s that? A girl falls
asleep
in this story? Ooh, tell me more! Tell me more!”

The other men laughed, and Liam smiled. He’d never thought he’d meet other people who might understand what it was like to be a Prince Charming.

“So will you come back to Sturmhagen with us and help us rescue Ella from the witch?” Frederic asked.

Liam pretended to think about it for a few seconds, but really, there was never any doubt in his mind. A few minutes earlier, he had considered calling it quits, retiring to the mountains and trying to make a living as a goatherd. Or maybe by selling little acorn-head figurines by the side of the road. But neither of those options was very appealing. And then, as if by fate, along came two fellow princes, heroes like him (even if they seemed a tad unusual). And they offered him an epic quest, a mission to rescue a kidnapped maiden—
that
was something he could sink his teeth into. Plus, it would go a long way toward restoring his reputation as a good guy. “You came to the right prince,” he said.

All three men saddled up. “There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Liam added as they started off. “How did that candelabra salesman you met know I’d be here?”

“All I can tell you is that he said there was a Prince Charming in Sylvaria,” said Frederic. “And he was right.”

“It’s a bit mysterious,” Liam said. “Gustav, do you have any thoughts?”

“You smell like melon,” said Gustav.

“Thank you,” said Liam. “That was very constructive.”

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