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Chapter Text

It would be a few years after the Royal Wedding when they could finally laugh about everything which had transpired, and they could jokingly agree that their misfortunes began with Evie’s migraines.

They had been in their final semester at Auradon Prep, and she’d assumed her migraines to be from a pollen allergy. The school’s nurse supplied her with low dosage of generic pain medication once a day and advice to limit her already minimal screen time. Her steady boyfriend, Doug, had taken it upon himself to buy her more substantial medication and to keep time for when she could take another dose. She waited for him at the senior lockers which opened into the quad, bright with painfully blinding sunlight reflecting off white cement and metal picnic tables.

“I could make a potion for you,” Mal drawled, smirking as she put her math book away in her locker, the inside door decorated with a single photo of her and Ben.

“I’m over magic,” Evie declared between breaths, as if deep breathing would bring some relief. At its worst, the migraine felt like two spikes pressing into the top of her head. “No more shortcuts, remember? We’re good now.”

Mal closed her locker, the snap making Evie’s head throb harder for a second. “Yeah, I signed up for being good, not stupid.”

“And being good is doing the right thing even when it’s not easy.” Evie’s eyes, watery from the pain, squinted open in time to see Mal roll her eyes. “It’s only annoying because you know I’m right.”

The shorter girl crossed her arms over the notebook pressed to her chest. “So if I use magic to make my friend feel better, I’m bad, but if the Fairy Godmother uses magic to bless a stupid coronation, she’s good.”

Evie took another deep breath, this one having nothing to do with her migraine. Dealing with Mal could be especially difficult when she oversimplified complex situations, her defensiveness making her blind. The use of magic had to be royally sanctioned, decided upon by the wisest minds within Auradon, and carefully executed. The overuse of magic had once made the lands turbulent, full of strife and danger. Auradon was safer this way.

On the other hand, Mal had only started to dip her toe into good judgement. Evie feared if Mal used magic liberally, she’d slip right down the slope all over again and put the Villain Kids’ place in Auradon at stake. While the kingdom had just begun including Mal in their Be Good poster campaign on the Isle, the royal council had not voted to bring over any other VKs yet.

But none of this could truly be said aloud in the school hallway with their classmates, dressed in blues and yellows, passing close by.

Evie lowered her voice and leaned in toward Mal. “Let’s talk about this later.”

“We’ve been talking about it, and I’m not giving up my spell book,” Mal said, jaw tense as they re-entered a recurring argument. “And if you don’t want to take a potion, then you can have fun with your migraines.”

It was in the tail end of Mal’s statement that Doug, who’d run off campus to get another bottle of medication for Evie, reappeared. He’d so thoroughly gelled his hair in place that not even all of that rushing had caused a flyaway.

“I thought you were giving up magic?”

Evie squinted at her with eyes watery from the pain. “She is. She’s joking.”

Doug “ohhh-ed” in understanding while the two girls shared cross looks. Evie had designed and handmade an entirely new Auradon approved wardrobe for Mal with dresses fit for a princess. There were no reused fabrics, unlike the old Isle clothing. Everything was rich and sumptuous like the food they ate in the Auradon Prep dining hall or what Mal had during royal dinners with Ben, King of Auradon and boyfriend of Mal. Yet for all of this, Mal would not give up her spellbook and with it, the old ways of the Isle.

“Well, the next round isn’t for another hour,” Doug started, checking his wristwatch. “So since you already pushed yourself through the school day, would you please, please go rest in your room and not work?”

Evie was quick to insist, “I can’t. Cotillion is right around the corner, and I have so many orders. I’m not done with Lonnie’s dress, I haven’t even started on Jane’s, and Chad is requesting more alterations to his cape.”

Mal snorted. “Charge him triple and I bet he’ll ask for fewer alterations.”

Evie didn’t have the state of mind to explain why running a boutique wasn’t that simple. Just as well for her, she didn’t have to when a tall boy with blond-brown hair appeared at Mal’s side. With practiced ease, he slipped an arm around her back and warmly said, “Hey.”

Evie opened her eyes enough to see King Ben, dressed in a blue blazer, crisp white shirt, and beige slacks. She wondered how he, the golden boy of Auradon, was not enough for Mal to toss the spellbook into a fire. She herself could never take all of the security of Auradon for granted, and Ben was the picture of love, acceptance, and safety.

Said boy dipped his head down to peck a quick kiss on Mal’s hairline. “What about alterations?”

Doug gestured at Evie while looking at Ben. “She’s got a massive migraine and wants to work on cotillion orders instead of rest. Could you help her see she needs to take are of herself?”

The other boy’s smile turned to concerned frown as he noticed her pinched blue eyebrows and red rimmed eyes. “Evie, you need to rest. No one’s fancy outfit is worth more than you.”

Doug looked at Evie and waved an emphatic arm toward Ben. “Will you listen to him? Please rest.”

Mal ‘ughed’ before clearing her voice as if that’s what she really meant to do. Evie suspected Mal had wanted to say something rude, perhaps about all of Doug’s gesturing or insistent concern. If she had, then for Doug’s sake, Evie would have asked where Mal got off with her attitude when her head wasn’t on the verge of exploding.

‘I suppose it’s just as well we’re not roommates anymore.’ The thought deepened her frown. After all the effort Evie went through repainting their bed posts silver and making blue silk bedding for them to replace the floral rosebud pattern, they’d split as roommates when Mal loudly declared she’d had enough of living in an atelier. She’d returned to their bedroom for peace from royal duties with Ben only to find Evie taking dress orders from classmates.

That wasn’t even where their tension ended. Looking at Ben wrapped around Mal, Evie wondered, ‘Why can’t you give up something good for something even better?’

Evie finally acquiesced with a weak, “Okay,” to which Doug immediately offered, “I’ll walk you back to your room.”

“No, you’ve already done so much,” she croaked wearily. “And I don’t want to make you late to marching band practice. I’ll get to my room just fine.”

Doug shifted on his feet, full of nervous energy. “Okay, but let me at least call anyone who’s scheduled for a fitting today and reschedule them.”

Evie barely said, “Sure,” before Ben was volunteering, “Mal and I can walk you to your room. We’ve got time.”

Said blonde-haired girl forced a smile at Evie and tilted her head cutely. “Wow, Evie, everyone just jumps at the chance to take care of you.”

Head throbbing like it could burst from the top, Evie weakly returned the smile while her heart ached. Their friendship suffered every time Mal used her spellbook and Evie encouraged her to forfeit it to the Fairy Godmother. The shorter girl couldn’t given up her need for power, and Evie wasn’t going to let her friend ruin the best thing to happen to all of them.

‘You could be the one to free more kids from the Isle,’ Evie had said to her just the night before, when she found Mal using a speed reading spell to get through her homework.

“I can walk myself. Thanks, guys,” she said, voice quieter, before turning on her heel and walking off before anyone could offer anything else. She needed some time to herself, to sleep, and to dream about when this was past.

Mal knew Ben was just trying to be nice by offering to walk Evie back to her room, as if it was on the other side of Auradon’s capital city instead of campus. She was glad he didn’t so they could say bye to a distractedly worried Doug and spend a few minutes together, even if it was in a busy school hallway.

“Heeey,” she drawled, voice going up an octave as she smiled at him. Her hands snaked up to smooth the already creaseless lapel of his blazer.

“Hey.” He matched her smile, blue eyes crinkling before lighting up as he remembered to ask, “Do you have plans tonight?”

“Nope. I’m all yours.” Her hands snaked up to clasp behind his neck. She relaxed feeling his hands gently landing on her waist.

“Great! I wanted to invite you to dinner with my parents at the castle. And there’s going to be a performance by the Seven Dwarves Choir.”

Mal laughed between her teeth, showing in a now forced smile. “The Seven Dwarves! I wonder what they’ll be singing.”

Ben showed no outward recognition of her sarcasm. “The Charmings will be there, and I think Tiana and Naveen are undecided.”

Mal nodded slowly, her hands sliding back down to his lapel. “Wow. Yeah. I’d love to.”

She’d hate to, but that didn’t matter. Despite how Evie treated Mal like she needed to take her role as the king’s girlfriend more seriously, she felt every ounce of the pressure and hard work it took to stand at Ben’s side. Evie could never understand. To Mal, the blue-haired girl was built to be a pretty Auradon princess in cute frocks and constantly balancing in high heels. Bossing Mal around was so easy when Evie got to focus on fashion and didn’t have to change anything about herself.

But Mal had to change everything.

Unmercifully, their downhill conversation halted when Jane seemed to pop up in front of them with big blue eyes and a hand-sized planning binder (because she couldn’t carry around her large planning binder).

“Ben! Mal! I’m glad I caught you guys,” she said as a breathless greeting. “So for the cotillion, I was looking at napkin samples. Did you want pearl white, off white, or maybe navy blue instead? Or royal blue? That’s what I narrowed it down to, and I have—” Jane flipped her binder open to a page with stapled blocks of fabrics “— samples.”

The couple made confused, noncommittal sounds as they glanced at each other, hoping the other might have an opinion. Neither of them had picked Jane to be their cotillion planner. After Jane briefly stole her mother’s wand to make herself beautiful and unintentionally freed Maleficent, the Fairy Godmother decided Jane needed to be more socially involved. That included a short stint as the school mascot before getting upgraded to the cheer squad and, most relevantly to Mal, being made the cotillion planner.

“You known what?” Mal started, forcing the type of big smile she only makes before lying, “I think you’ll do a great job choosing all by yourself, Jane.”

Jane’s eyes somehow went bigger as she frantically shook her head, chocolate brown ringlets flying in her face. “No no no I can’t choose!”

“Mal’s right,” Ben said, except he meant it sincerely. “I’ll leave you guys to it. I have some things I need to review in my office. King stuff.” He was already disentangling himself from Mal to dash away from cotillion planning. “Jane, let’s touch base on that one project later.”

“Projec—? OH! Yes!” Jane’s head bobbed. “I’ll bring samples!”

“Awesome!” Ben quickly pecked Mal’s forehead in goodbye and headed off.

She had to admire his ability to be nice while slipping out of an unwanted conversation. Bitter as she felt that he’d not taken her with him, Mal also knew technically she should be doing all of the cotillion planning, as she was the King’s girlfriend and the party this year was in her honor.

‘Maybe the Fairy Godmother knew better than to trust a VK with the royal cotillion,’ Mal thought, the possibility foul and, she feared, true.

“By the way, I put in the orders for the pen toppers as part of the goodie bags,” Jane rattled on, smiling. “You won’t regret them!”

Mal nodded absentmindedly, her eyes darting around the hallway, at passing students, for some kind of out. She couldn’t get out of this the only way she knew how, by being mean. But, she hadn’t mastered “niceness” enough to get out politely the way Ben had.

She’d been so distracted by Jane and her own thoughts that she never noticed Lonnie’s approach until she was right there, grinning at her over Jane’s shoulder.

Without hello or comment on the weather (Mal really could have gone for complaining about how sunny it was), Lonnie declared, “I cannot wait to see your wedding!”

“Yeah—what?” She’d been so ready to continue agreeing, just to get closer to the end of this conversation, that she never considered it could get worse.

“Yeah,” Jane said like it was the most obvious, natural thing in the world. “The Royal Cotillion is like getting engaged to be engaged.”

The air left her.

It was astounding how Mal could be standing at the open air lockers yet feel the walls closing in around her. Her heart pounded. The world became unsteady, balanced on a pin. Jane and Lonnie watched her with matching smiles, waiting for her to squeal in excitement or whatever Auradon girls did whenever marriage talk happened.

Instead — “What?! Does everyone know that?!”

“Everyone knows it,” Lonnie answered, as if she was being silly.

“I didn’t know it!” She’d never heard her voice jump so high. Words spilled out, “Was anyone going to tell me that or is my whole life just planned out for me?!”

Mal wanted to run, but she swore if she tried, her heels would catch on each other and she’d stumble. No one could see her stumble. She was going to be a lady of the court. Ladies of the court didn’t stumble. Ladies of the court didn’t panic at the thought of marrying the love of their life. Ladies of the court never felt unbearably hot in perfect weather or look for a life raft from this promise of love and security.

‘Because who does that?’ Mal felt hysterical listening to her heart beat.

Then he passed by. The singular pop of black, red, and white from head to toe, Carlos innocently passed by them with his headphones on and lost in the music.

She could use him. He could be the key to her escape.

Mal, paying no mind to whatever nonsense Jane had been espousing about cold feet before the happily ever after, side-stepped just enough to grasp Carlos’ elbow and yank him over to their group. He stumbled but recovered in time to straighten up at her side and face the other two girls.

“Carlos!” she said with a forced smile, giving all the appearance of being happily surprised. “Perfect timing!”

He pulled his headphones down. “It—yeah, it is,” he managed, confused eyes taking in the situation she clearly needed him for. Mal knew she could count on a VK to improvise and follow her lead, even him.

“Carlos,” Mal started, emphasizing his name so he’d pay close attention, “invited me to watch the R.O.A.R team practice, and I don’t want to be late.”

“Yeah, I did,” he said like an actor who’d just got handed the script and was figuring out the tone.

“And we need to get there early, because he has warm-ups.” Mal faked a frown, as if sorry to be ending the conversation so soon.

“That reminds me—I need to get going!” Lonnie stated while adjusting her book bag over one shoulder. “See ya!”

As the taller girl ran off, Mal watched her with the type of smile that curled at the corners. ‘One down.’

Her gaze slid over to Jane, who was smiling dumbstruck at Carlos, who also looked minus a few brain cells in that moment. Mal looked between the two of them and hoped she wasn’t seeing what she thought she was seeing.

“Hey Jane, do you —uh, did you like the carrot cake at dinner last night?” he stiltedly asked, as if he’d originally meant to say something else.

Mal bit back the urge to gag.

Jane smiled, showing off pearly white teeth. “Actually, I had the pie.”

“Oh, uh—” Carlos gulped, but his smile persisted.

“I’m going to throw up. You’re embarrassing yourselves,” is what Mal wanted to say, but her lifetime of practice in the art of lying saved her from the Auradon faux pas of not being a gushing romantic.

“This is such a fun conversation!” Mal smiled while surreptitiously pinching the back of Carlos’ elbow. “But we’ll be late to practice!”

Jane shook her head as if snapping out of whatever spell his puppy eyes put her under. “Oh! I’ll go with you! The cheer squad will be there too!”

Mal figured if she couldn’t extract herself from the many ‘fun’ conversations plaguing her, then she’d start using Doug as her pain med dealer too.

Carlos, possibly inspired by her claw-like grip, came to his senses. “Shouldn’t you go change into your cheer uniform first? And, uh—”

“Put in the order for the royal blue napkins so they arrive on time,” Mal smoothly finished, forcing back the smile which had briefly fallen off her face. Getting fake happiness to stick sometimes took extra attempts, depending on the day. “I really think the napkins will make or break the snack table.”

Jane gasped, realizing aloud, “Or else people will have to wipe their hands on the tablecloths or their clothes! You’re so right. I’m on it!” She threw another stupid smile at Carlos. “I’ll see you at practice!”

The younger girl bounded off with her heels clip-clopping on the grey tile walkway, clearly an addition from when they turned King Adam’s country home into a school that needed locker space. The hallway gradually emptied as the rest of the student body found their way to after school extracurriculars or the library for homework. Mal wondered where she could go.

She sporadically showed up for Art Club less and less. When Ben gifted her an easel and paint set, Mal had set up an art area in her bedroom. That, however, had been taken down  to make room for Evie to turn her room into a workshop just for Mal’s wardrobe. When asked  why Evie couldn’t do all of this work in her own bedroom, the other girl said there wasn’t room, because Mal constantly needed new clothes.

Apparently the girlfriend to the king couldn’t repeat outfits for dates or royal events.

Mal crossed her arms over her stomach, and her body relaxed into an unhappy slump that, ironically, felt incredibly good. Her jaw loosened from all of the forced smiles. Her next breath came out as a sigh.

Despite having somewhere to be, Carlos lingered next to her. She didn’t mind if he saw her looking miserable. If she couldn’t be herself around the other VKs, then she’d sooner lose her mind.

‘And ladies of the court don’t go crazy, because that’s how villains are made.’ The creeping fear prickled over her arms that a rotten apple could never be anything more, no matter how far it fell from the tree.

“Mal? You okay?” Carlos asked, hesitant as he leaned to meet her eye.

“I’m fine!” she snapped, immediately feeling bad when he recoiled. ‘Sorry’ caught in her throat, and Mal had nothing else to do except rush off with her heels clomping gracelessly.

“You’re welcome for having your back,” Carlos sarcastically said, barely loud enough to be heard.

Rolling her eyes, Mal figured of course he’d only have the nerve to say that when she's halfway gone. She didn’t care, she told herself. Her goal was to be alone, and mission accomplished. Now she could breathe.

With nowhere else to go, Mal decided she may as well go to R.O.A.R team practice. None of the royal staff would think to look for her there. Photographers and reporters weren’t allowed on school property, so she was stuck on campus anyway.

Feeling a modicum more herself with no one else around, she went to find a dark corner of the fencing gymnasium.

“Ensemble!” Jay’s voice echoed in the gymnasium as two rows of boys in matching uniforms raised their swords perpendicular to the ground, toward their partners.

He called “salute,” and all swords pointed toward the ceiling.

“Points down.” The team followed instructions they’d rehearsed a hundred times.

When Jay called “en garde,” a beat passed before the gymnasium erupted in clanging metal. The flashes of blue, yellow, and steel gray commanded the attention of the students leaning against the barricades. One student in particular stayed back.

As a girl who loved being center of the attention, being in the darkest corner she’d ever found in Auradon Prep filled Mal with a level of relaxation people visited spas to achieve. The worried line between her eyes disappeared as her body heat seeped into the smooth grey stone at her back.

Mal didn’t even care about the fencing, each player an indistinct blur of yellow and blue. She vaguely wondered if looking at the same two colors too much could lead to a psychotic break.

A contented sigh escaped from her lips. ‘I miss complaining about things for the hell of it.’

The Auradon royal color scheme would bother her less if she could say how she felt about it. But, she’d noticed her Isle customs, which had been good-naturedly accepted by the student body at first, became less novel thus less acceptable over time. Now, she was expected to happily assimilate to a magic-free fairy tale.

Mal watched the fight unfold with crossed arms and found the only two players she cared about. Despite the full face masks, she picked them out by their distinctive hair, a shock of white or sleek black. Carlos twisted and struggled to keep up with Jay’s pure physicality. The larger boy’s strikes came strong and assured, while Carlos’ sword swiftly deflected the attacks without gaining ground.

Jay hooked his arm around the other boy’s and swung him around, to the circular pit. “Find your center!”

Carlos regained his balance just as Jay caught up to him from behind. Prefacing his attack, Jay directed him again. “Eyes on your opponent!”

The shorter boy twisted his sword around his back to catch Jay’s strike. The move looked awkward, but he managed.

Mal shook her head. Of course Carlos still needed the extra help. He always did. At the start of the school year, Mal had made a snide comment to Jay about Carlos signing himself up for a second round of embarrassment by joining R.O.A.R. No one forgot Carlos’ first time on the Tourney field when Jay used him as a spring board.

‘Carlos just needs someone to have his back,’ Jay had explained, turned around in his seat to face her before math class started. ‘Help him find his aggressive side.’

Mal leaned an elbow on the desk and popped one shoulder up. ‘Not even Jack Sparrow’s compass could find where that is.’

An eighth player took advantage of Carlo’s lack of fight by stepping in his way and countering Jay’s sword. The white and black-haired boy stepped backwards, out of the way of the heated fight just beginning.

The cheer team, never ones to lower their voices, loudly wondered who the mysterious fencer was. Mal could have laughed, because the tightly braided bun and black hair told the whole story. Lonnie was making a big show trying out for R.O.A.R.

‘Get her, Jay,’ she maliciously thought with a curling half-smile. Jay was her oldest friend, and she liked seeing him thriving in his element. And while she had nothing personal against Lonnie, there needed to be some karmic compensation for that ‘wedding’ comment from earlier.

Jay side-stepped Lonnie’s sword by an inch before returning the favor. The clash of steel rang musically in Mal’s ears. She loved seeing the chaos of a fight. She observed the way students gripped the safety barricades as they openly gaped and gasped. Even the cheerleaders were too dumbstruck to erupt in one of their cheers, much to Mal’s relief.

Her head rolled back against the cold stone. ‘Who needs peace and quiet when you’ve got chaos and darkness?’

In a flash, Lonnie took an opening and kicked Jay’s wrist, knocking the sword out of his hand, through the air, and to be caught in her free hand.

Then the face guard came off, followed by a toss of Lonnie’s shiny black hair. Jane could excitedly be heard calling out, “It’s Lonnie!” as if Lonnie hadn’t attended Auradon Prep since Pre-K and needed introduction. Mal rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, because she liked anyone who went out of their way to spice things up.

“Not bad!” Jay said with a laugh, never one to be a sore loser when fairly defeated.

“You should let me on the team!” Lonnie said, gasping for breath through her big, proud smile.

Jay shrugged and looked like he was about to agree when Chad stuck his nose between them.

“No way, we’ll be the laughing stock of the league! And what next? We’ll have girls playing Tourney?” Chad, who had a lot of nerve for someone who came back from spring break with a perm, looked around to the other boys for agreement.

Instead, he received an indifferent, “So?” from Jay.

Mal smirked, because Jay was from the Isle just like her. Villainesses were in the same league as villains, gender unrelated. The abilities and pastimes of girls and boys were not separated the way they were in Auradon.

She heard Chad clucking in disbelief before fumbling a worn paper book from his back pocket. When he spoke, she heard something along the lines of, “Blah blah a team will be comprised of a captain and eight men.” He showed the open page to the audience on both the first and second viewing levels.

Mal locked her eyes on her oldest friend. ‘Tell them their rule sucks, Jay.’ This rule, she figured, had to be from a time when women couldn’t wear trousers.

“Yeah but you’re down a man!” Lonnie emphatically stuck out an arm, imploring Jay. “Ever since Ben had to leave to do all that king stuff!”

Jay hesitated, frowning at the ground and anywhere else that didn’t involve looking at Lonnie, who stared imploringly.

‘Tell them sometimes rules should get broken,’ Mal willed. Her teeth ground together. This would never be a conversation on the Isle, where gender was note equated with ability or worthiness.

Jay met Lonnie’s forceful gaze and waved his arms helplessly at his sides. “I’m sorry.” He breathed in, seeming to puff himself up. “Coach trusts me. I’m not going to stay captain if I just throw out the rule book.”

Mal’s stomach dropped. Her worldview momentarily went topsy-turvy. A true VK would never say that. That’s not her Jay from the Isle. She didn’t recognize this imposter.

The raven-haired girl bristled, getting in both Jay and Chad’s faces to heatedly declare, “If my mother had thought that way, she’d have lost the war.”

Chad snorted. “Okay.”

Mal wanted to get in his face and say, ‘If that rule is supposed to be taken literally, then you don’t qualify for the team either.’

Lonnie went her way, and a deflated Jay called practice to a close. The spectators dispersed, but Mal didn’t move from her shadowy corner. One white-haired member of the fencing team hung back, and she knew exactly where he was looking.

“Hey!” Carlos called up to Jane, who’d hung back to review her binder while the rest of the cheer squad left. He hopped onto one of the obstacles set-up in the training space to more easily call up, “Jane! Hey!”

Mal judged her tight ponytail and the clinging uniform to be unflattering, but hey, she owned that she was a bitch. It was one of her favorite qualities about herself, alongside her confidence and her winning smirk.

She listened to Carlos drag it out by asking how Jane was doing. ‘Bad idea. Girl’s got one thing on her mind. Didn’t you learn anything from earlier?’

Of course she was right, because she heard Jane launch into something regarding the banners for cotillion and the right shade of blue. Her mind became static fuzz every time Jane talked these days just to avoid more cotillion talk.

“Oh yeah no, that’s a bummer,” Carlos started clearly not interested. Mal snorted but listened as he segued into, “Speaking of cotillion—”

The meekness in Carlos’ tone told Mal this would end like the rest of the attempts.

“Oh my gosh, it’s like all anyone can talk about anymore is cotillion! It’s cotillion 24/7. You’d think no one had ever been to one before,” she snapped, frazzled.

“Uh—” Carlos went quiet “—I haven’t.” The words barely echoed in a room where a foot tap could sound thunderous. They made Mal feel something unpleasant in her chest.

“O-oh!” Jane froze, realizing her mistake, and tried back-pedaling by downplaying cotillion. “I always just end up serving punch with my mom anyways.”

“Jane—” Carlos threw a quick look over his shoulder, and Mal gleefully wondered if he could feel her eyes on his back. “Maybe we should just—”

“Skip the whole thing?” Jane blathered, clearly not seeing past her own stress to the cute boy trying for his life to ask her out. “I really wish I could.”

She mimicked playfully punching his arm. “It’s so nice to have a friend on the same wavelength.”

Carlos stared up at her then gave a delayed, “Oh, you got me!” while touching his bicep, as if she’d actually hit him. He laughed weakly until Jane’s phone ringing made her say goodbye and leave to take her call.

Mal smirked and barely kept her laugh to a quiet snort. ‘Oh my gosh, Carlos is embarrassing himself several times a day over Jane. I need to save the VK reputation and put him out of his misery.’

She confidently knew she’d never struggle like they did. If she wanted someone, she’d go for them full throttle. That’s what she did with Ben the previous year, even if the love potion cookies and his ensuing love declaration were a bit much, in her opinion.

Mal watched his head drop dejectedly and gleefully decided to make herself known.

Emerging from the shadows, she leaned her elbows on the barricade and cooed in a high-pitched, nasally voice, “Aww Carlooos, you’re such a good friend!”

Lips pressed together, he stiffly turned to face his singular audience. The corners of her lips pulled as far back as they’d go in a closed mouth smirk as she held up one finger to curl toward her, beckoning him. Like a good boy, he came when called.

“It wasn’t the right time,” he defended himself before she could start.

“I could,” she drawled, pretending to check her nail polish, “help you get that tongue unstuck and ask Jane out. It’ll just take some faith, trust, and—” she wiggled her fingers at him “—fairy dust.”

Carlos read what she actually meant: magic. “Th-there is?”

He looked so hopeful that it made Mal feel especially benevolent. “I can make you a truth gummy.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You can make a truth gummy?”

“I could make a truth wonton. I figured a gummy would be more your style.” Mal imagined this is what her ancestors must have done, offering their magical services to desperate, doe-eyed humans. Unlike them, she would not plan anything nefarious regarding Carlos. No, he got the friend discount when it came to her special skills.

He nervously chewed a bottom corner of his lip in short-lived consideration. “I’ll take it.”

“Perfect,” she chirped, feeling lighter at the chance to use her magic. “I’ll drop it off in a couple of days. In the mean time,” she drawled, pausing to grin mischievously at him, “try not to embarrass yourself anymore than you just did.”

Hours passed after Mal and Carlos’ conversation before Evie woke up.

The world slowly returned to her as she blinked at the darkened navy tulle of her bed’s canopy. Her vision tilted until she blinked it right. She wondered if she’d slept until dark or all night. Doug had been right about needing to rest. Her head felt marginally better, as if the pressure escaped from the top of her head like air out of a balloon stretching to pop.

Languidly, she rose from her bed and approached her full length standing mirror. Brushing her hair first thing was a habit she’d always had. Her hand found the horse hair paddle brush, never far from the mirror. She raised it then paused to use her pinky finger to correct smudged red lipstick. Then the brown bristles smoothed over her ends. She turned her head, hair swishing, to get the other side. The brush rose up and up on her hair with each stroke downward until reaching the crown of her head—

Where it struck something firm.

Pain radiated from a tender part of her head. The brush clattered onto the dresser as Evie’s fingers rubbed at her scalp for the spot. That’s when she found it, a protrusion from her head ending in a rounded point.

Terror filled her stomach. As if already knowing, Evie searched the other side of her head and found its twin just under her hair.

A horrified, disbelieving whisper rang shrill in the room.

“I’m a goat!”

Chapter Text

“Oh Evie, you’re far from perfect, my dear, but you must always try,” her mother used to tell her.

As a young adult, she could swallow this fact gracefully, but no make-up tips from her mother prepared her for this. Evie’s first thought was to hide the tiny growths with her hair. She knew how to blow dry it, brush it, and curl it. She’d recently mastered a braided up-do in anticipation of cotillion.

Yet, none of these hairstyles would hide the hard, black horns on her head. The more she looked them over, she observed they didn’t look exactly like goat horns with the way they curved backward out of her scalp.

After the horrifying discovery, Evie forgot the very idea of sleep. Her thoughts raced, and so did she. Her feet learned to avoid the creaky floorboards in her panicked pacing from her desk to her armoire, to the window, and back again in a circuit.

Evie collapsed face first onto her bed. Her arms laid limp and exhausted from trying to work her hair into a braided crown that did not make her resemble a milk maid. The look flattered some people, but Evie wasn’t so lucky.

‘Maybe it’s a curse,’ Evie told herself. ‘But Mal would never curse me, and I’m already out of ideas. No one on the Isle could curse me, and I don’t know of anyone in Auradon with the power except Mal.’ She rejected the thought again, because she knew her best friend would never use her magic against her, no matter their current disagreements.

Her right hand closed, fingers rubbing her palm as it craved the hand mirror she’d been gifted by Queen Grimhilde. Perhaps it would know the answer, although the mirror knew simple answers. If asked where the Fairy Godmother’s wand was, it showed her the Museum of Cultural History. If asked to find the atomic weight of silver, it provided the number in its reflection. Evie did not know if it could tell her why she’d sprouted tiny, round-tipped horns on her head.

Realizing she might be smearing her make-up on the bedspread, she flipped onto her back. Looking at the bedside clock, she read 1:06 AM. All of Auradon would be asleep, but half of the Isle would be awake.

‘Mom might know.’ Evie hadn’t spoken with her mother since Parents’ Day over a year ago. She’d declined the Fairy Godmother’s offer to set-up another video call the last time. Just like she’d told Mal time and again, she was leaving the past where it belonged.

‘I could go to Fairy Godmother.’ Shame followed that thought. The Headmistress of Auradon Prep had only just last month taken Evie aside and praised her for being a great example to the other VKs. Admitting to having horns would feel like admitting she wasn’t deserving of those compliments.

Even worse, it would be admitting she wasn’t an Auradon girl, because no one in Auradon grew horns – but villains did. ‘Can any of us escape our heritage?’

The worried line between her eyebrows deepened. Feeling it, Evie rubbed her index and middle fingers over it in hopes it wouldn’t leave a red line. Those were so unbecoming, her mother would tell her.

She exhaled loudly, realizing her mother’s voice was back in her head. ‘But she might know–’ Her eyes opened wide in revelation as she sat up ‘- or the Mirror might know.’

The Enchanted Mirror, a powerful magical object crafted by Evie’s sorcerer grandfather, was a sentient being imbued with the mysterious power of all knowing. When Auradon’s knights, aided by Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather, invaded Queen Grimhilde’s castle and tore it to pieces, they’d confiscated the Mirror.

Evie suspected the Mirror now sat somewhere deep in the belly of the Museum of Cultural History. She and the other VKs once tried breaking in to no avail, but she wasn’t the same little Evie from the Isle. That, and Evie decided to leave her friends out of this. This clearly magical conundrum would encourage Mal towards seeking magical answers. As for the boys, Jay had enough to do on the R.O.A.R. Team. And Carlos — she needed to ask a huge favor of him, and she already felt guilty.

With a shuddering breath, Evie climbed to her feet with new resolve. She walked toward her full length mirror and saw herself, tall and regal in her blue dress with the tulle skirt. Her shoulders pulled back to bring herself to her full height. Her eyes went up to the horns. Her first order of business had to be finding a way to hide these.

Step one was much easier compared to step two: get to the Enchanted Mirror.

Three raps on the door jerked Carlos out of his half-asleep stupor. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he yawned into the back of his glove and pushed himself up from his desk chair. His index finger closed his laptop, putting it into sleep mode. He’d always preferred working on his projects at night, and his latest interest in 3D printing was no different.

A quick glance at Jay’s bed showed his roommate asleep and sprawled on his stomach under piles of blankets. The quiet knocking was met with Jay’s breathy snores. That was just as well, because lately, Chad Charming had made himself an unwanted third roommate via unauthorized use of the printer.

“Chad,” the boy started while unlocking the door, “It’s late and I’m busy.”

The door clicked open. “Too busy for me?” came the soft, husky voice of Evie. He opened the door the rest of the way, and there she was, wearing a cloak with the hood pulled up. She cut a dark figure save for her bright, fair skin.

Carlos eyed her unusual attire, remarking, “You look like you’re giving out poisoned apples.”

“No mischief tonight,” she said, her smile strained. “Just a favor to ask you. Is Jay awake?”

His head tilted in confusion as he squinted at her through the darkness of the hallway. “No. What do you need?” Odd as this situation was, Carlos wasn’t questioning it. Evie was the sweetest girl he’d ever met, and he was gladly indebted to her from the moment she gave him his first pillow years ago.

Her answer came unusually restrained. “I need — um — would you please finish Mal’s cotillion dress for me?”

He blinked, brow furrowing. “Me? What’s wrong? Why can’t you?”

“I just have so many orders,” she said breathily, speaking faster. “And my migraines have put me so far behind. I’m going to scale things back until I’m better. If you could finish Mal’s dress, that would take so much pressure off of me.”

He took a step out into the hallway while trying to ascertain if she was paler than normal or if maybe that blush was from a fever instead of make-up. “Hey, maybe you should see someone about this. Having migraines this frequently isn’t normal—”

“Carlos.” She put a hand on his shoulder to settle his worries. “I’ll be fine. Please do this for me? The designs are complete, and everything you’ll need is already in. I’m sorry it’s such a big ask, and if this reminds you too much of working for your mother, you can tell me no.”

His jaw loosened, his resolve along with it. “But I-I can’t, I don’t think I even remember how to do a catch stitch.”

And he was terrified of messing up Mal’s dress. He doubted she’d take well to her outfit being in his hands rather than Evie’s. He could already hear her annoyed huffs during fittings and see her rolling her eyes when he struggled to get fabric to lay right.

She picked up on his dejected countenance. “It’s time for Mal to see you’re just as capable and talented as the rest of us. You were raised in an actual fashion house. You can do more than you think you can.”

“I did some small stuff, some tailoring,” he said with a shrug, disregarding the grunt work he’d done late into many nights at his mother’s behest. He could still feel the needle’s blunt end leaving pink dents in his fingertips. Despite his mother being banished and her most devoted followers along with, nothing kept that woman from creating fashion, even if it meant using last season’s fabrics discarded by Auradon fashion houses.

“Mhm. Nice vest.” She tugged at the black and white faux leather, none of which was her handiwork, then dropped her hand back to her side, partially hidden under the cloak.

“For real. What’s going on?” he asked, keeping his voice down. 

Evie smiled, her red lipstick emphasizing how forced it looked compared to her natural one. “I just need to take care of myself right now.” Her frown returned as her dark brow wrinkled in concern. “I know this is a big ask, but I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do this.”

His gaze dropped down to the ground as he frowned, contemplating how much worth the trouble this could be. He and Mal were on friendly terms, he reminded himself. She had just promised to make a truth gummy for him.

“We haven’t spent a lot of one-on-one time together,” he remarked, already knowing Evie wouldn’t accept such a flimsy excuse.

And she didn’t. “Now’s a great time to start.”

Carlos sighed. He’d always needed a buffer around when it came to Mal, whose interest in their friendship was usually spurred by necessity or her own amusement. “Fine. Count me in.”

“Mal, over here!”

“Mal, what’s your relationship status with King Ben?”

“Mal, who are you wearing to the cotillion?”

“Mal, over here!”

The door slammed behind her, silencing the voices ringing in her head. Her chest heaved as she tried catching her breath from the onslaught of bulb flashes and invasive questions. Mal wondered where these strangers got off demanding to know about her life, her business, her relationship.

Ben had reassured her she’d get used to press interviews, including the impromptu ones. That’s why it was always important to be camera ready.

“King Ben, did you ever think you would date a villain kid?” one of the reports had asked, the moniker from their mouth suddenly offensive to her ears. Ben had laughed it off, but Mal hadn’t.

She paced frantically around the dorm room, as if she’d find her ability to calm down on a dresser or among the notebooks, dog treats, and pens scattered around the printer.

An announcer’s voice interrupted her racing thoughts. “King Ben and Lady Mal spent dinner with Prince Aladdin and Princess Jasmine–”

Mal whipped around and found the wall-mounted TV showing that dinner with a perfectly timed zoom-in on her surreptitiously spitting food into her napkin. Humiliation and anxiety burned under her skin, because an Auradonian princess would never be caught doing that. The pressure to be better sat in her stomach.

She couldn’t catch her breath.

She couldn’t breathe.

A burning sensation rolled up her spine. Her head rushed as her magic threatened to surge out of control. ‘Fly, fly away,’ her magic seemed to say. ‘Burn it all and run away.’

“Wooaah,” came a low voice.

Mal blinked, remembering she hadn’t gone to her room.

“Easy, girl.”

Blinking until she could see clearly, Mal saw Carlos’ worried facing watching her over his red laptop. The rushing settled at the sight of one of the VKs

Breathing easier, Mal stomped over to his bedside, where he sat with Dude sleeping in the dog bed beside him. “Carlos, don’t you ever miss running around and yelling at people?” she pointedly asked.

Carlos gave her a wry smile, like she didn’t have a clue. “You’re mistaking me for my mother. And I was usually the one getting yelled at.” When Mal scoffed, he mumbled, “But your experience was a little different.”

She ignored him, instead trying to remember why she went to Carlos and Jay’s dorm room in the first place.

He didn’t leave her in suspense as he climbed to his feet and looked at her expectantly. “Did you bring it?”

“Oh! Yeah.” She reached into the pocket of her sea foam green dress. Evie had made her stance on magic clear, and Jay’s confidence and natural talent made magic superfluous to him, but Carlos seemed to be her only friend who appreciated its uses. In that moment, the fruit of her magic presented itself in the form of a deceptively common gummy bear.

She presented the candy in the palm of her hand. When he went to grab it, she closed her hand, saying, “Are you sure? This thing will make you say the truth all of the time. Because if I took this right now, I’d start saying things and I’d get sent back to the Isle really fast.” The words left her at a frenzied pace, but Carlos acted unbothered.

“I’ll take my chances.” 

Mal opened her palm and felt some relief when he took the offending candy. Truth like that would ruin her life.

In her mind’s eye, she saw herself telling Ben that she hated half of their dates being televised then replayed later with some stranger’s commentary. She’d tell him she didn’t like wearing yellow, that the more she tried to fit in, the less she looked like herself. She’d say she’s finished loads of paintings in art class, but she never showed him, because she didn’t think he’d appreciate her grim landscapes of haunted forests or dungeons filled death’s trinkets.

Mal would tell Ben she liked her magic and didn’t care what anyone in Auradon wanted her to do. That spell book was staying with her.

Then she saw the yelling and the arguing. Ben wouldn’t banish her, but Fairy Godmother might finally stop being lenient with the king’s girlfriend doing magic.

She imagined Jane asking her about what style of rugs she wanted for the cotillion’s red carpet entrance, and Mal would snap about how lame the whole party sounded and no one would even care about carpet. Then she’d tell Jane to stop pestering her, because if the Fairy Godmother put her daughter in charge of the cotillion, then take charge. It would feel so good, but then Jane would run off crying, making everyone angry at her, especially Carlos.

And speaking of Carlos, Mal noticed the gummy hovering near his lips. She had no idea how he could stand the idea of being so open when he’d been such a scared kid growing up.

Or maybe he couldn’t stand it, because he shook his head and stashed it in his wallet.

“There’s something else we need to talk about,” he hesitantly started. “Have you talked to Evie lately?”

“No, she’s still having migraines all of the time,” Mal said, rushed and impatient for him to get to the point. 

Carlos nervously twirled his wallet before sputtering out, “Evie asked me to finish your dress.”

Her reaction was a dramatic jaw drop, furrowed brow, and exclamation of, “Do you even know how to sew?!”

The accusation killed all appearance of nerves as he looked at her flatly. “Yes.”

Mal gestured, not even sure what she was trying to say. Evie had made all of her outfits for her outings as the King’s girlfriend, and she’d always been able to count on at least looking great.

“Have you even made a dress?!”

Her question only made Carlos more exasperated. “Mal, my mother is a fashion designer.”

“But you’re not! I’m going to talk to Evie,” Mal said, deciding that this was not happening as she marched toward the door. 

“I’ll come by your room tomorrow!” he called after her. “After the last bell!”

Between Carlos talking and her own angry thoughts, she missed the lock clicking open. Thoughtlessly, Mal ripped over the door, making Chad pop into the room like a stumbling, sideways jack-in-the-box. She pressed herself flat against Jay’s dresser to avoid him tripping into her as he clumsily regained his balance.

The prince tossed his curly blond hair and tugged at his butter-colored sweater vest to straighten it. “Rude!”

Carlos blinked. “How—?” He stuttered through sounds until he found words. “How did you unlock my door?”

With a toothy grin, Chad help up a plastic key. “Easy. I made this the last time I was in here.”

Carlos walked forward, eyes narrowing. “Last time?”

Mal, deciding to help Carlos by showing how it was done, plucked the key from Chad’s fingers and pressed it to the other boy’s chest so he’d take it. “Chad, get out. Not in two minutes, not right now, I mean ten seconds ago when you barged in.” She advanced toward him.

The blond boy put up his hands protectively and possessed enough self-preservation instinct to retreat backwards toward the door. Holding up a nervous index finger, he said, “But what if I just need the 3D printer for a few minutes—”

“OUT!” Mal and Carlos yelled simultaneously, the force seemingly pushing Chad right out the door before Mal grabbed the knob and slammed it shut.

The two of them breathed. Chad’s interruption and subsequent ousting had relieved whatever tension Mal had created when she rejected Carlos. She could feel him watching her and wanted to snap at him to stare somewhere else. On the other hand, maybe she shouldn’t have rejected him so quickly. Mal already disliked her dress as it was, and regardless of whatever he did, the dress would still be yellow.

“Fine,” she half exhaled. “You can finish my dress. Just don’t mess it up.”

Carlos held up his hands. “I’ll follow Evie’s design and work as if my mom will judge it.”

Mal crossed her arms, snorting before grumbling, “I’m not that bad.”

Something in Carlos’ ensuing silence was annoyingly telling.

Sunlight poured through the Auradon Prep library windows, illuminating the rows of mahogany tables laden with students every few chairs. The crinkling of pages turning and pencils scraping on notebook whispered up to the high ceiling. All of this left Mal hot and agitated. The metal ring of her pencil began rapidly tapping a metal ring on her chemistry binder.

“So when were you going to tell me Carlos was my new tailor, designer, or whatever?” she whispered to Evie, who sat across from her. They occupied the end of a long table, just out of range from where the sun glared off the lacquered wood.

“I thought that was a conversation you two needed to have,” Evie responded evenly. Her gaze landed pointedly on Mal’s tapping pencil, which stilled. The blue-haired girl laid her forearms across her open History of Auradon textbook and leaned toward her friend with a smile. “So how was dinner with Aladdin and Jasmine?”

“I mean—” Mal shrugged “—they’re replaying it on the news.”

“I saw a clip. You and Ben looked so good together.” She propped her elbows on the textbook, creaking under the pressure, and intertwined her fingers to rest her chin atop. “But I want to know what it was like for you. What’s Agrabah cuisine like? And did you meet Princess Jasmine’s tiger?”

Mal weakly smiled, because she’d liked patting Rajah’s head. The giant cat acted dog-like with his love for attention and desire for stay at their feet.

“Yeah, and it was weird meeting a tiger that didn’t roar at me to get the hell out of its shop.” Mal always liked pushing the limits even as a child, including stealing from Shere Khan’s pawn shop for sport.

“What about the royal couple?” Evie sighed. “They have such a beautiful love story.”

Aladdin reminded her of Jay with his easy-going attitude and sticky-fingered history. Though he’d been bashful, she’d managed to get him to recall how his stealing led him to meeting Jasmine the day she disguised herself to enter the bazaar in a moment if teenaged rebellion.

“They were cool. And the food was kind of spicy? And I couldn’t pronounce half of it,” Mal recalled. “But now I can say I’ve had eggplant.”

“Does it taste like eggs?”

“It doesn’t really taste like anything.” Mal pressed her cheek into her palm and started mindlessly tapping her pencil again. “There were a lot of lights set-up for the cameras. I had to make sure I was always at least 3/4 facing the cameras but never looking directly at them. And those pillow seats we used throughout dinner messed up my feet. I don’t know how people in Agrabah aren’t f—messed up from using those all the time.”

“Probably practice,” Evie said, eyes going back to the pencil. The tapping stopped, and she smiled encouragingly. “You did a really great job. I want you to know that.” Her hands dropped from under her chin so she could lean in. “You’re really fitting in. I’m so proud of you.”

A smile flitted across Mal’s face at the praise was it washed over her skin but went no deeper. She could only feel so successful at a dinner where she felt put on display and pretended to eat by dipping her spoon in the sauce.

“Hey, Evie?”

“Mm?”

“What’s with the hat?”

The window’s bright light outlined Evie’s silhouette in gold, highlighting the wide-brimmed, royal blue sunhat. The fashionista beamed as she touched the brim, asking, “Do you like it? I’m obsessed with hats. I was telling Arabella this morning how hats are a must-have before cotillion. They protect your skin and hair from sun damage. Plus, I always get red marks on my nose from wearing sunglasses. If we get a late spring rain and I’m not ready, my hair is still protected. Hats are it right now. I’ve already got ten orders.”

Mal blinked throughout Evie’s ecstatic rambling. “Cool.” Her eyes narrowed, but she blinked it away. “How do you have time for making all of these hats if you just pushed off finishing my dress?”

“Oh Mal, making hats is so much simpler and way less pressure,” Evie replied as if that’s all there was to it. Mal, knowing nothing of fashion labor, had no counter.

With nothing else to add, Mal idly listened to Evie talk about her sales numbers and the projected number of years until she could buy her own castle. Mal looked down at her homework and wondered what even the point was in working hard when everyone acted like everything was already decided for her.

“Bet you’re excited you’ll live in the grandest castle in all of Auradon someday soon,” Evie dreamily said, clearly imagining it.

Mal’s pencil eraser drew circles out of rubber shavings on her textbook. “Maybe.”

Like everything else she said these days that wasn’t the perfect answer, it was glossed over, and the conversation moved on.

‘Or maybe Ben and I could move into our own place after graduation. One we don’t share with his parents, guards, servants, or constant visitors. The kind of place you could walk from the bedroom to the kitchen in your skimpiest pajamas without caring.’

A flicker of a smile danced on her lips at the thought of a future guided by her hand.

‘Late nights with friends over, eating dinner on the couch, trying out a 3AM dark ritual — that would be the best.’

She’d even call it downright lovely.

Chapter Text

It was Thursday afternoon, and Mal was panicking. When she panicked, typically something or someone got destroyed, and her victim du jour was Auradon Prep’s kitchen. She threw open cupboards and jerked open drawers in search of everything she needed to make the perfect picnic for Ben.

Her golden boyfriend had been punctual in presenting her gifts every other day on top of his royal duties and classes. On Sunday, he’d given her a handbag custom designed to look like her dragon heart sigil. Tuesday, royal gardeners planted fully grown wild rose bushes in front of her dorm window, because Ben knew she loved anything with thorns. Thursday, today, he surprised her with a purple motorized scooter outside of her math class. His gestures sent her on a roller coaster, going to the top of the hill with joy before hurtling downward with guilt that she wasn’t giving as good as she got.

Case in point, she’d forgotten entirely to prepare a romantic picnic for them.

“I don’t know what love is,” she’d nervously confessed to him on their first date, a sham created by her love potion spiked cookie that became a sincerely beautiful memory for both of them.

Reclining on the picnic blanket beside the Enchanted Lake, Ben had looked in her eyes and spoke with the most kind-hearted sincerity. “Then I’ll teach you.”

Mal determined if gift giving was part of love, then she’d make the ultimate picnic for the most perfect boy in all of Auradon.

Sifting through the commercial fridges and freezers for anything she could repurpose into picnic food, Mal wondered if Audrey received a barrage of gifts and attention too when she’d dated Ben. She could imagine the other girl gleefully accepting gifts without worrying over how to return the gesture, probably because she could set a servant on finding gifts for him. At least Audrey wasn’t around to keep telling her to go back to the Isle. After the coronation, she’d decided to be homeschooled by private tutors in some fancy country home, in some magical forest where Mal imagined woodland creatures helped with chores.

‘Must be nice never having to get off your ass and work for it.’

But Mal descended from fairies of the swamplands and moors, not royalty so pure they’d feel a pea under layers of blankets (that was Audrey’s great-great-grandmother on her father’s side). She couldn’t coast; she had to prove worthy of being there.

Her hands pushed aside containers of red sauce, white sauce, pesto, and salsa. ‘What kind of kitchen doesn’t have fucking chicken salad?!’

She growled and went to the pantry, a whole walk-in closet stacked nearly to the ceiling with dry goods. Bags of flour and sugar stared back at her. She rummaged around jars until she found a massive container labeled peanut butter. Dragging it off the wire shelf, Mal dropped it on the metal countertop with a loud clang.

‘Something that goes with peanut butter,’ she repeated to herself while going through the pantry, which was weirdly barren of bread. The preserve jars clattered against each other as she frantically searched for grape jelly among them to no avail.

After running fridge to fridge for anything she may have overlooked, Mal found a package of bread with two slices and the heel left inside.

The alarm on her watch (a pearly white and gold gift from Ben) went off as the cold bread slapped onto the counter with a spattering of crumbs.

Mal was out of time and needed to get to the gazebo in the royal gardens. Now, where was — her book bag! That was it, she realized seconds before tearing open the zipper to shove textbooks out of her way until she found the answer — the forbidden answer — to all of her problems.

The spellbook flipped open to the page she needed as if guided by her frantic energy.

“Weak and hungry like a beast,” she murmured, the spell tasting more satisfying than picnic food, “turn this morsel into a feast.”

Her index finger waved once in the air then pointed at the peanut butter and bread. In a shower of green sparks, they formed together into a peanut butter sandwich before popping and splitting into two then four until she had sixteen peanut butter sandwiches. Mal momentarily worried that in her distress, she’d miscast. That worry dissipated as one sandwich morphed into a plate of mini croissants stuffed with chicken salad. Another sandwich turned into chocolate-covered strawberries. So it went until Mal breathed a sigh of relief over a glorious picnic spread to end all picnics.

Holding her up hand, she let her power swell there and summoned a large wicker basket, into which she hastily loaded the food. The basket weighed so heavily on her arm that Mal felt the scratchy material dig a red mark.

None of that mattered, Mal told herself while running out the swinging kitchen doors as fast as T-strap heels could carry her. All that mattered now was proving she belonged in Auradon and worthy of every ounce of Ben’s pure love.

Tired from a full day of school and two hours of R.O.A.R. practice, Jay and Carlos collapsed onto their respective beds. The white and black-haired boy wished he could’ve given his sore muscles an ice bath rather than that cold shower.

Jay stretched and gave a loud, satisfied groan.  “If this keeps up, I’m gonna have to ask Evie to let out the sleeves on my cotillion tux.”

Carlos didn’t have to look to know Jay was flexing. “You’re wearing a tux?” He squinted at image of Jay in a traditional black tie.

“No idea,” he replied unworried. “I just told her no fancy shoes, ‘cause I’m wearing my black boots.” The taller boy rolled onto his side and propped his head up with his hand. “How’s asking Jane out going?”

That was an ice bath. Carlos had tried asking Jane again after lunch, but the longest sentence he’d managed was asking her what class she had next (same thing he’d asked last week), before she sharply steered into talking about how she was booking a stretch carriage for her and some friends to cotillion.

“Did you want to ride with us? It’ll be me, the entire cheer squad, and their dates, but we’ll totally have room for you!”

“Actually I’m not big on carriages,” he’d awkwardly replied. Carlos preferred transportation with an engine.

So in short, it was going miserably. “Fuck you,” Carlos grumbled without any real meanness.

Jay snorted and rolled onto his back, hands behind his head in a half-stretch. “Maybe if getting a cotillion date doesn’t pan out.”

Doing a sit-up so he could be upright, Carlos grabbed the hem of his sleeveless blue R.O.A.R. hoodie and pulled it over his head. Balling it up, he tossed it into his laundry basket at the foot of his bed. He fell back with a groan and turned onto his bare stomach.

“Uugghh,” he groaned into the plaid bedspread. “I promised Evie I’d finish Mal’s dress.”

Jay started snickering which then turned into laughter. The younger boy leaned his head up, asking, “What?”

Still smiling widely, Jay said, “As in you’re gonna have to be alone with her? Have you ever done that?”

“Of course I have.” To his memory, their conversations regarding the truth gummy were their first one-on-one conversations. Of the Core Four, he and Mal sat in the farthest corners from each other.

“Yeah sure,” he drawled, still amused. “Word of advice, show her some spine, man. Don’t let her walk on you.”

“I don’t let people walk on me,” Carlos muttered loud enough for Jay to hear. “If it was a choice, I’d choose not to.”

Accepting that he needed to get a move on, Carlos dragged himself to his feet and toward the dresser. Opening the first drawer revealed stacks of neatly folded shirts, because he’d been taught to care for clothes, couture or not.

“Cool. Then choose not to get pushed around,” Jay said with a grin that said he’d love to see it.

Pulling a geometric patterned white and black shirt over his head, Carlos thought he’d like to see it too. He went to slip on his sneakers. Jay had dropped his toiletries near the shoe rack, and the jersey bag had tipped over, spilling out the hair oil, shave gel, and—

“What’s this?” Carlos knelt down and picked up a silver object as long as his hand. He pressed on the curved metal end, and with a swish, it revealed itself to be a gleaming barber’s razor. He could see one eye reflected in the blade.

Jay, who’d returned to lying on his back, raised his head. “Oh yeah, Dad sent me that.”

“For what? Self-defense?” Carlos checked the long, rectangular blade on both sides before clicking it shut. With a lingering look, he set it on the center table with his laptop.

“For shaving, but I’ll stick to the safety razor,” Jay said before laying his head back down. “You can have it if you want, but if I get my dad’s back hair, you have to help me.”

“Pass,” Carlos readily said, but he threw a curious look back at the gleaming silver. His fingers tingled. Nevertheless, he ignored this instinctive draw to it and left out the door.

After all, Carlos told himself, he had no use for something that dangerous.

There was one picnic that early evening in the sculpted wood gazebo off the lake, but there would be two stories of the quarrel and dozens of misunderstandings that came from it. No witnesses saw Mal running out from the shelter and down the dock with King Ben chasing five steps after her just to hold up two slices of bread and yell something unheard after her. Whatever it was, she didn’t slow down or look back.

For Mal, everything was on fire — her feet, her lungs, her eyes, her nose, her world — and it was all her fault. She’d let down the one person who’d ever loved her. She’d deceived everyone in Auradon into thinking she could be reformed, be good, and now Ben saw her for what she was — a lying, manipulative fairy.

The golden hour sun burned her back as she flew up the dormitory stairs so fast her heels barely touched the stone. Tears left hot trails on her face. She was ashamed for what she’d done, but she was equally ashamed for crying about it.

Jerking the doorknob to her private dorm, she had a singular thought: she was giving into the urge to run away.

The door bounced off the wall, scuffing the wood. Mal rushed into her bedroom and slammed the door behind her, shaking the tables, curtain rods, and even her mother’s terrarium. Finally in her space, away from people, she began to crumble as Ben’s voice rang in her head.

“Blonde hair spell…speed reading spell…instant food spell—what is this?!”

“I don’t belong here!” she wretchedly cried. Sniffling, an absolutely offensive sound to her, Mal choked with sobs. Ben yelling at her, waving her spellbook, and accusing her echoed in her ears.

“Just when I was giving you props for fitting in! We were supposed to go through this together!”

Wiping her forearm across both eyes, Mal seized the nearest duffle bag and shoved her spellbook inside. Already figuring her mother to be watching her with disapproving, beady eyes, Mal declared, “Mother! We’re going home!”

She whipped around to grab her clothes in the armoire next to the damn cotillion dress and nearly ran into a frozen, wide-eyed Carlos.

She blinked as if that would make him disappear. “Carlos! What are you doing here?!”

He stuttered before getting out, “Y-your dress fitting—”

“There won’t be one! Get out!” She went to push him aside, but he defensively held up his hands.

“Mal, what’s wrong?” His hands extended toward her, wordlessly encouraging her to open up.

Hating to be seen in such a weak state, Mal stalked away from him and rubbed her forearm across her dark pink cheeks, smeared with tears.

“All I’ve ever done is try to be good enough for people!” She dragged her palms across the rivulets ruining her make-up. “My mother! Ben! It’s never good enough! I’m never good enough!”

Her fingers clawed at the surface of the desk which had been repurposed into a work table for sewing. “He hates my magic!” Mal hated how pathetic she sounded, but she couldn’t stop. “He said I’m not even trying! I am!” She choked. “I swear I am!”

She spoke half to Carlos, half to an imaginary Ben.

Instinctively, her hand slapped down on the nearest thing she could destroy — Evie’s design book for Mal’s Auradon princess dresses. “And Evie—” she started, teeth gritted as she tore off the cover “—keeps telling me to turn in my spellbook—” The first page ripped off, followed by the second and third as she clawed them out “—stop thinking about home—”

Mal slapped the book down on the desk and grabbed a seam ripper. “Behave so I don’t ruin her perfect little princess life!” The tiny blade stabbed repeatedly into the drawings. Torn bits flew into the air from the force of her strikes.

Carlos, remembering himself, rushed to Mal’s side and grasped for the hand with the tiny knife. “Mal!” One arm went around her waist while the other squeezed her wrist. The seam ripper clattered off the desk’s edge and rolled across the rug.

“Let me go, Carlos!” she said, utterly helpless to stop crying at this point. Her heart felt like it was imploding, and part of her was still ashamed to even have one. What a disappointment to her mother. On the other hand, she had a heart and still didn’t know how to love. What a disappointment to her boyfriend.

Mal shook free of his hold, loosened now that she wasn’t at risk of hurting herself. “Why are you even here? I was horrible to you! I’ve never been a good friend to you, so go away!”

“Maybe I want to be a good friend to you!” Carlos shot back.

“You’re wasting your time, because all I’ll ever do is let you down!” Her voice had weakened after so much crying and yelling. She helplessly held up her arms. “And I’ll never change!”

He looked directly into her eyes — her glowing, green eyes — and forcefully said, “I like you for who you are, and I don’t want you to change.”

Her eyebrows bunched together in confusion. “Ben does. Ben’s perfect.”

Carlos sardonically retorted, “I’ve never seen you cry before, so he’s not looking so perfect to me right now.” Softer, he continued, “I don’t want you to change, Mal. I want you to be yourself, magic and everything.”

After a second of letting his words sink in, her whole body seemed to release a great exhale.  The magic swirling threateningly in her eyes dimmed. It was like the moment two combatants drop their swords after a prolonged fight, except it had been Mal fighting herself.

Her voice became cautiously hopeful. “You mean it?”

He looked at her earnestly. “I do.”

Her fear-fueled fury had expended itself and seemed to fall out through her feet. Thoughtlessly, her arms wrapped around his middle, and a tear stained cheek dried itself on his shoulder. Carlos took a second to comprehend what she was doing before his arms went around her shoulders. She felt his sigh of relief through his shoulders and chest, and she sighed along with him.

As tears subsided and the distressed haze cleared in her head, Mal wondered why Carlos would be so kind to her. She didn’t understand why he wouldn’t want her to change, not after all the times she’d yelled at him to move out of her way and banned him to the back row of every class they shared at Dragon Hall.

“I’ll be a better friend,” she promised into his shirt sleeve.

“Stay and prove it,” he lightly challenged her.

Mal pulled out of the hug, their arms returning to their sides. “I will.”

Blinking, Carlos remembered something and briefly searched the ground before retrieving the seam cutter before it could enact revenge on either of them for its earlier abuse. While he did that, Mal settled on the floor with her back against the bed’s footboard. Carlos pocketed the tool and and took the space beside her.

Her tired, calming breaths filled the brief silence between them.

“So, we don’t have to do a fitting right now.”

Mal slowly turned her head toward him. “Then what do we do?”

He met her gaze. “I could work on sewing the tulle petticoat.”

She nodded, her throat dry and tired from use.

“Hey,” he carefully started, hand hovering in the air as if wanting to take hers. “What happened with Ben?”

Mal sniffled, but she had no tears left. “He thinks I’m not trying to fit in. That using magic means I’m not trying at all.”

She looked down at her hands, where they pulled at the soft blue fabric flowers making up her dress’ skirt. With a little more force, she idly thought, they’d tear right off.

“Why? What’ve you been using magic for?” Carlos asked, watching her pick at the fake flowers.

Pinching a violet strand, Mal waved her blonde tresses. “Dye my hair.”

Carlos’ expression went flat in annoyance. “Then I’m equally guilty. If Ben thinks putting chemicals in our hair to make it straight or blonde is better than magic, then he can go to the salon.”

A weak yet amused exhale escaped her before she sobered with the next point. “I used a speed reading spell to learn royal protocol and get my homework done so I’d have time for dates or fancy royal dinners.”

Carlos opened his mouth but said nothing, prompting Mal to lean in. “What?”

“Ah,” he found his voice, “my mom would say something like how she shouldn’t have to wear polyester just because other people can’t afford silk.”

Carlos went on, translating, “Not everyone is on an even playing field, and that’s life. Ben just sounds angry you’re not cutting yourself at the knees to run at his speed.”

Mal didn’t have to force the smile relaxing her face. She put one hand on the rug between them and leaned her weight, getting comfortable. “Did you have dinner yet?”

“Uh, I grabbed a sandwich from the cafeteria on my way here.”

“Grab it and I’ll show you the other reason he got pissed at me.”

Suspicious of the fate awaiting his only dinner, Carlos retrieved the chicken sandwich from his book bag, deposited not far from reach. Mal took the offered food and set it in front of them.

“Weak and hungry like a beast, turn this morsel into a feast.” Her fingertip glowed with green sparks as she pointed at the sandwich, immediately creating the same results as earlier. She looked to Carlos, whose face had lit up. Ben with his private chefs couldn’t appreciate the blessing of an entire meal appearing at the ready, but an Isle kid like Carlos could.

“This is awesome! Is it real?”

Mal nodded proudly. “Every last bite.” She picked up one of the stuffed dates wrapped in bacon. “Wanna’ have a picnic with me?”

He excitedly look at the spread as if deciding where to dive in first. “Don’t mind if I do, m’lady.”

“Ugh don’t call me that. I’m an evil fae of the moors,” she mumbled while stretching out her legs.

“You need to drown more babies before I’ll call you evil.”

“Three’s not enough for you? Damn you De Vils are hard to please,” she joked before unwrapping a date, popping the bacon in her mouth, and dropping the date back into the bowl.

“That’s the sweet part!” he said through a laugh before grabbing the orphaned fruit and tossing it in his mouth.

“It’s also the sticky part. Have fun chewing for the next month.”

Still chewing, he managed to get out, “M’ jaw’ ‘tronger than i’ look’.”

Mal leaned her head and checked out his side profile. “Y’know, I think you’re losing the baby face.”

His jaw worked faster, trying to finish the date and unintentionally making her giggle. “I told you! I don’t like sticky things anyway, so you can have them.” She grabbed a corked, glass carafe of strawberry lemonade and poured into a dainty crystal goblet. “Here, stupid.”

Just as he reached, she pulled her hand back. “Actually, there is one more thing I want to add, and I’d rather say it when you can’t speak.”

He looked at her like she was incredibly frustrating but only in that comical way shared between old friends, even if they’d not really felt like true friends until that moment.

“He was already angry, but he got really angry after I—” she winced “—tried erasing his memory.”

Carlos seized the lemonade and gulped it. “Mal!”

“I know!” Despite the admission, she found herself giggling at him.

“Do you?” He started to laugh. “You’re such a mess!”

She smiled widely in that way that hurts afterward. “You said don’t change!”

Carlos grinned. “Yeah, wanna erase my memory of that?”

She playfully shoved him. “Well I messed up the spell and couldn’t remember—” a burst of giggling interrupted herself “—I couldn’t remember the memory erasing spell! And I still can’t!” The whole situation was so terrible that it had become a joke.

His head leaned back against the footboard. “Oh my gosh. Mal! Are you sure that’s not the real thing that pissed him off?”

“There was already smoke. That was just gasoline,” she said, remembering it more clearly and her smile starting to fade. “I, um, I think I—” she sobered “—I think I ruined my relationship with Ben.”

Their mirth died and became silent as she stared down at the picnic without seeing it. She’d really said it; she had one good thing and ruined it. Her relationship with Ben would go two different ways: he’d either break up with her, or they’d prolong her torture by continuing the charade until she lost control of herself.

It’d been a secret, her recurring dream of turning into a horrendous dragon with teeth long as men’s arms and a mouth that spat noxious green fire. At night, lying awake with the image of hooked claws and bat-like wings fresh in her mind, Mal wondered if this was where her magic would take her. Her magic would grow out of control until she became the monster Ben and Evie were trying to keep at bay.

Then, Carlos offered up a mini red velvet cupcake for her.

“What do you think about stretch carriages?”

Her vision focused on the tiny dessert, deep red like a ruby but spongy in a way that would almost dissolve on her tongue. Her face visibly relaxed its worried lines as Mal remembered her present self, seated on her bedroom floor and having a picnic with Carlos.

Before taking the cupcake, she removed the top layer of cream cheese icing with her index finger and wiped it on the cupcake plate. “I hate any transportation that shits on the go.” She took the mini cupcake and popped it into her mouth.

“So we’ve got two things in common: we hate carriages and have a real problem with telling people how we feel.”

Mal, breezing past his second point, stuck one frosting coated finger in her mouth and pulled it out with an obnoxious pop. “I used to think about stealing your mom’s car for a joy ride.”

“For being a fossil, thing’s got one hell of an engine,” Carlos said. “She stole it from her mother, back when we were Von Hellmans and barons.”

She poured her own glass of lemonade. “I didn’t know you were a baron.” She held up her glass as if to toast him. “Baron De Vil — it’s got a ring to it.”

He quickly shook his head. “I’m not. You remember what Audrey said when Evie introduced herself as a princess. All of our families’ titles are—”

“Bullshit,” Mal coolly interjected. “If Audrey said it, it was bullshit.”

“Yeah well, I’m still not a baron, and Evie isn’t a princess.” He didn’t sound bitter so much as factual, which surprised Mal. She couldn’t understand not caring about power, the very symbol of safety and freedom in her mind.

Their picnic continued on in that fashion for sometime. They finished off the mini quiches, agreed the orzo salad was okay (save for the little green herb which Mal suspected to be dill), and they cleaned out the chicken salad-stuffed croissants. The strawberry lemonade freshened their palates before eating the rest of the mini red velvet cupcakes as well. Mal would use her finger to remove excess cream cheese frosting then unceremoniously wipe it off on either his cupcake or, just as of often, his hand. Like a true sugar fiend, he licked it off each time.

The fact this was their first private hang out didn’t elude her, and Mal wondered why she hadn’t spent more time with Carlos. She knew why on the Isle; he’d been a small kid always sitting in the back of class and tinkering with some tech or reading a book. They didn’t exactly share any interests. Moreso, he had no social standing outside of his surname to warrant her attention, she being like a tyrannical princess to the Isle. He’d grown more interesting to her since coming to Auradon, what with him being involved in fencing, socializing more, and his inane crush on Jane.

Sure, he’d been in her friend group since she’d recruited him for a failed adventure back on the Isle, but now Mal felt like they’d been good friends for a while.

When they’d had their fill and wanted no more, she wiggled her fingers over the picnic’s remains and cast, “Take this sumptuous meal and turn it back to what is real.”

The food blurred together before disappearing and morphing into the crusts of Carlos’ cafeteria sandwich.

He snorted, amused. “Nice.”

When he clambered to his feet and stretched, Mal suddenly feared he was about to leave. Her heart began picking up at the prospect of being alone in her room with no one. That was it — neither Evie nor Jay could see her struggling, and no one in Auradon could remotely understand.

“Hey, stay,” she said, sounding like a little girl asking for ten more minutes before bed time.

He gave her an easy, tired smile and explained, “I’m not going anywhere. I just need to grab some stuff so I can work on your dress.”

She watched him set right the formerly assaulted contents of her desk, specifically Evie’s design book. He flipped through the remaining, punctured pages and held up one particularly ripped page depicting a pink dress with butterflies and flowers.

“Flowers? For spring?” he sarcastically joked then flatly added, “No one ever accused Auradon modistes of being inspired. Not that I blame Evie for the designs. These are typical Auradon trends. After all, best way to blend in is to dress the part.”

She snorted a laugh and slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. “You roast fashion?”

Grabbing the thread, needle, and fabric he required, Carlos returned to sitting beside her on the rug. He briefly contemplated his words before confessing, “All the time.”

He stuck one end of the thread into his mouth before sticking the same end through the needle and knotting it. “My mom loves to watch any big Auradon event so she can rip apart everyone’s outfits, especially the Contempo Gala. House of De Vil used to go every year until, y’know.”

Realizing he’d gone out of order, Carlos set the thread aside and began ruching the yellow tulle then pinning it in place. “I can hear her in my head sometimes, saying mean things about the way people dress around Auradon. My rule is if I think of three bad things about someone’s outfit, I need to walk up to them and, uh, compliment them on something I genuinely like.”

Carlos’ reputation of being such a sweet guy around Auradon Prep suddenly made sense. The dawning realization made Mal grin like the Cheshire Cat, because Carlos wasn’t all that sweet. He had a dual side — maybe even a wicked side.

“You’re so bad,” she said gleefully.

He snorted derisively. “And I’ll be on the receiving end of it when Mom sees the cotillion. They’re going to air all of us arriving.”

Mal shrugged. People from the Isle seeing her in a princess dress and blonde hair was at the bottom of her concerns. Though, she would love to see the look on Mad Maddie’s face if she saw Mal had gone blonde. They’d been childhood friends until a needlessly spiteful Mal decided the Isle could only have one girl with purple hair and damaged Maddie’s to be permanently green.

‘At least I’ll have that,’ Mal joked to herself.

While Carlos focused on sewing, Mal picked up that he didn’t need her talking to him while he worked and made herself do the reading assignment for History of Auradon. She found the subject not so cumbersome with company, and she liked stealing glances to watch his fingers deftly working the needle. No doubt his skill came from slave labor for Cruella.

When he stopped to retrieve his headphones from his backpack, Mal told him to play his music over his phone’s speaker. She’d initially not bothered getting a phone until Cogsworth insisted she, as the King’s girlfriend, must have one. Now, she purposefully kept it dead in the back of her armoire so she could never be that readily available to the royal staff, Jane, or anyone. Carlos hit play, and the time became decorated with the chill lo-fi.

For the remainder of the evening, Mal unconsciously thought less and less of anything outside her bedroom. The world came down to completing homework and watching Carlos sew layer after layer of tulle. He eventually moved the mannequin with the dress so he could comfortably sit in front and work on the bunched tulle layers in the front. With his back now toward her, Mal didn’t know how long it was before she’d noticed his sewing hand had stilled.

“Carlos?” she called out, voice loud enough if he was awake but subdued in case he slept. When he didn’t react, she crawled to his side. She found his chin rested on his chest as he slowly breathed his way through dreamland with the needle still pinched between his fingers.

Mal thought this didn’t look like his first time falling asleep this way. She briefly considered snapping her fingers near his ears and startling him awake, but her softer feelings toward her friend won out over her mischievous side.

Tapping pause on his phone’s music player, Mal saw the time and realized just how long they’d been hanging out.

Her hand gently shook his shoulder. “Hey.”

The gentle jostling earned a soft grunt deep in his throat before he leaned sideways against her. Her arms caught him, and she surprised herself by not promptly shoving him away. The instinctive reaction to do so was a blip, coming and dissipating.

‘Okay, I’ll be nice and not owe you for listening to me blubber earlier,’ she thought, knowing full well she didn’t mean it, because friends didn’t make deals like that.

So, she gently eased her friend to lying on his back and got up to make him more comfortable with a spare pillow from her bed. Mal, remembering the needle, retrieved it from his fingers and stuck it in a red tomato pin cushion. Satisfied he’d be fine for now, she dragged her comforter off the end of the bed and draped it over him. The warm weather meant she’d be fine sleeping just under sheets.

‘I’ve never done this for anyone before.’ The following thought hit her where it hurt. ‘And no one’s ever done this for me either.’

Blinking away the burning sensation building in her eyes, Mal knelt down and tucked the blanket in at his shoulders. She’d heard that’s what people do for people they care about. There was a time not long ago when she’d proclaim herself friendless and caring for no one but herself.

Watching her friend — one of her best friends — sleeping in the makeshift bed she’d thrown together made Mal glad to have changed that policy.

The thought of how strange she must have looked while slinking through the darkened halls of Auradon Prep occurred to Evie far after the fact. Donning a black beret to hide the horns, she examined the cracks under doors for the telltale sliver of light from the lamp of a late night school administrator. To her luck, everything was dark, yet she stuck to walking on the carpeted runners to soften her steps. Some small part of her thought she shouldn’t be so worried about the concept of being caught out of bed following lights out, but the VK in her didn’t want anyone to know her business, and this was important, deeply personal business.

She knew Ben had requested a personal office at the school so he did not have to travel to the castle to work on royal duties. Being only ten at night, Evie thought there may have been a chance he’d still be working. Mal had complained to her more than once about Ben ending dates with a kiss goodbye before he returned to his office and worked until nearly midnight.

Evie passed between two suits of armor, their silver armor appearing like black, shadowy sentinels in the corridor. Turning a corner, that’s when she saw a far off door, partially cracked so pale yellow lamplight spilled across the wooden floorboards and carpet runner.

Keeping her steps light and soundless, Evie approached the door and found next to it what she’d sought, a placard reading “Office of the King.” She relaxed, straightened out of her prowling stance, and walked inside as if she was a regular visitor.

Ben, still in his personal uniform of blue suit and fully buttoned-up white shirt, sat with his head directed down at the contents of his messy desk, littered with folders, papers, scrolls, books, and ledgers. His shoulders hunched, and when he grabbed his pen, he jabbed the table to click it open then wrote so forcefully that Evie could hear the tip sliding over the paper.

“Hey,” she said in a gentle, coaxing tone.

Ben’s head shot up in surprise, and he blinked at her several times. “H-hey. What’s up?”

She might have wondered if she’d imagined the tenseness in his voice if she’d not already noticed the red around his eyes. “I could ask you the same thing.” Even with her own problems, Evie couldn’t ignore someone else’s. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He leaned back in his tufted leather swivel chair and sighed too loudly to make it believable. “I’m just—” Ben rubbed a hand over his face, making him look tired — maybe even sad.

Evie considered not pushing the issue and making her request, but overlooking when someone else was upset didn’t sit right with her.

Hands on the chair’s arms, Ben took a breath and asked, “Why did you give up your magic hand mirror?”

Evie knew in her gut what he was leading up to. For everyone’s sake, whatever she said had to avoid making Mal look worse than she already did; yet, Mal had also put her in a terrible position. Evie knew she couldn’t agree with Ben about Mal’s use of magic then ask to use her mother’s Mirror without being a hypocrite.

Ben misinterpreted her uncomfortable shifting from foot to foot and said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

She shook her head, but not so vigorously to remotely upset the beret. “It’s okay. I just — I turned it in, because I wanted to be an Auradon girl. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.” Her voice dipped down, and her eyes cast down to the royal blue rug. “And Auradon girls don’t get mixed up in magic.”

The horns dully pulsed in that way when they threatened to grow again. The beret might last as an option for a few more days, maybe. Evie breathed in as if to dislodge the heavy weight over her at the thought, but the dread of being found out hung over her. The most recent woman in Auradonian history to have horns was Maleficent, and Evie imagined the rumors people would make about her brewing Draughts of Death-Like Slumber and cursing babies to obey every command given until they were told to drown themselves.

If people found out she had horns, no one would buy from her boutique. She’d have no way to support herself, to put a roof over her head or to buy food. The Fairy Godmother might expel her. Doug would stand by her, she knew from the goodness of his heart, but he’d share in her social exile. No one would invite her to balls, and she’d be kicked out of the life she’d dreamed of when it had hardly begun.

“Evie?”

Ben had gotten up and stood beside his desk.

“What’s wrong?” He watched her so intently that it appeared his own problems had taken the back burner of his mind.

“I—” She swallowed her nerves and pushed on “—I’m sorry, I need to see the Enchanted Mirror.” The question tasted like bile.

He blinked rapidly, clearly thrown when he’d thought them to be on the same page. She could almost see his brain working the logic of such a request before he asked, “Why? Is something wrong?”

She nodded, her eyebrows stitched together in worry. “Something is, and I need answers to make it right.”

Ben pulled a bluetooth phone off of his ear and set it aside on his desk with the rest of his now abruptly forgotten work. “What’s wrong? I’ll help you,” he pledged, earnest yet calm. “Whatever it is, we can go to the Fairy Godmother—”

“No, I can’t let this get out,” Evie insisted, stepping closer and letting him see the desperation in her eyes. “No one must know of this, Ben.”

Ben kept his eyes on hers. “Please, let me know what’s wrong. I—” He gestured helplessly “—I can’t help someone if they don’t tell me what’s wrong.” He etched his words with sadness.

Her bright red lips frowned, because he was right. She’d avoided telling her own friends, but Ben was the person whose help she needed, and for her to use a forbidden magical object was a big ask of the King. Her hands, covered in fingerless blue lace gloves, rose to gently slide her beret from her head.

His wide blue eyes affirmed her growing horns were hard to miss.

His hand went to his mouth but dropped as he composed himself. “Oh, Evie—” Ben didn’t have the immediate words as he stared worriedly at the small black horns protruding from her hair. “Who did this to you?”

She stared at the corner of a bookcase. Looking directly at him suddenly became difficult.

“I don’t know.” She cleared her voice. “That’s why I need to ask the Mirror before anyone finds out.” She pulled on the beret so her fingertips traced the edge, spinning it like a wheel.

“They’re hurting you, aren’t they?” Ben asked gravely. “That’s why you’ve been having migraines.” Her curt nod was all he needed before continuing, “Give me a couple of days to learn about the security at the Museum of Cultural History and find out where they stored it.”

If Ben had jumped onto his desk and declared the new royal colors to be lime and fuchsia, Evie would have stared at him with less shock. Ben, arguably the good-est of do-gooders, who she’d doubted to ever tell a lie in his life, had just volunteered subterfuge and unlawful use of a magic artifact.

When she said, “Why?” with her whole chest, his expression relaxed with the flicker of a smile.

“Because you were honest,” he said, the sad look in his eyes giving his smile a rueful quality. “You trusted me after I asked you to, and I’m going to respect your wishes to keep this secret. I wish the people of Auradon would be more accepting of other people, but the VK program has—” he exhaled deeply “—shown me a lot. So, we’ll keep the horns under wraps. Or—” he smiled, this time reaching his eyes “—under hats.”

Evie laughed breathlessly, making her smile match his. “Thank you.” She stopped fidgeting with her beret and slid it back over her head before pinching at the edges to adjust. “But I’m not the only one having a rough night.”

“Huh?” Ben blinked, taking a moment to remember himself. “Ohh.” He stepped back until hitting his desk, so he could lean against it for support.

“I can’t help someone if they don’t tell me what’s wrong,” she gently turned his own words on him, earning a flat “ha-ha” as he rubbed his face with both hands. “Ben, you weren’t really asking me about why I gave up my Magic Hand Mirror. You were asking why Mal hasn’t given up her spell book.”

Evie moved to stand beside him and leaned back against the desk. “What happened?”

His hands dropped from his face to grip the desk’s edge. “I was so proud of her.” He shook his head, the corners of his mouth pulling back. “She’d come so far from acting like she didn’t care about anyone, scheming, and fixing problems with magic rather than really put her heart into making things right.”

Ben stopped, realizing he’d been rambling, and tilted his head as he reorganized his thoughts. “I let her know every chance I could that I loved her and that she was doing a great job. She was helping Lonnie with an essay for Values and Virtues. She congratulated Jane on making the cheer squad. She was at my side for so many stupid functions!”

He ran a hand through his hair, and Evie spoke up to take him out of the past. “We were all encouraging her.”

His deep, steadying inhale sounded more like a sniffle before he spoke, voice breaking. “But it was all a lie.” His hand worried through his hair again. “She was going to give me a gift this week. She didn’t have to. I don’t need gifts, but she volunteered to make a picnic for us, to remind us of our first date.”

Evie sighed, her eyes closing as if that would stop her from seeing the impending disaster. Mal, she knew for a fact, had never cooked before coming to Auradon. That was why she’d asked Evie to help her bake the love spell cookies. Thinking on it, Evie would bet her hat collection (quite valuable now that she had horns to hide) that Mal only ever cooked or baked when her spells demanded it.

Ben stared across the room without seeing the furniture, fire place, or royal portraits. “The whole thing was fake. I found her spellbook in the basket with a food spell bookmarked. And then—” he shook his head, pressing his lips together “—and then she tried to erase my memory!”

He pushed himself so hard off the desk that it skirted a foot back. Evie’s quick reflexes kept her on her feet while Ben angrily paced forward before turning to face her.

“She tried to erase my memory! I was fine with the love spell cookie because I was already falling for Mal and needed to break-up with Audrey anyway! That wasn’t an open door to control me whenever she wanted!”

If anyone had been in the admin offices that evening, they certainly would have heard Ben’s beastly rage.

“And then she starts telling me how it’s so hard, like I don’t know!” He stretched an arm out to his cluttered desk, a mess of royal and school duties. “I had to give things up too! I thought we’d—” he voice broke, as did his anger “—I thought we’d do it together.”

Evie, heart welling with compassion, stepped closer to him. “Ben.”

He sniffled, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Then I lost my temper, and she ran. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She ran.” The King of Auradon shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what to do.”

Her heart ached for him. There was no easy answer for either of them, but she knew one thing was for certain as she closed the distance enough to take one of his hands in both of hers.

“We’ll figure this out — together.”

Chapter Text

Carlos was not the same when he awoke on Mal’s floor with index finger and thumb still pinched even without a needle present. After the initial disorientation of waking up somewhere unfamiliar, he realized she must have set him up on the pillow and tucked in the blanket. Inhaling deeply, he smelled what had to be the lingering scent of her shampoo, a soothing blend that made him think of the forest after a storm.

The aroma conjured an image of Mal — her eyes that could shift from doe to fox and her full, pouting lips. But then there was that yellow dress. Her platinum, almost silver blonde hair did her the favor of bringing attention to her high cheekbones and swan-like neck.

But then there was that yellow dress.

Sitting up on his elbows, Carlos saw the dress in front of him in its near-finished state. Evie’s designs were sound and followed the traditional princess gown cut favored by Auradon. Considering their precarious position as VKs, she’d been smart to dress Mal in the part of an Auradon princess.

And yet—

‘This won’t do.’ The thought was his, but he could almost hear his mother disdainfully sucking in her breath through clenched teeth before saying so herself.

Mal would stun in a potato sack, but he’d learned from his mother that beauty wasn’t the only goal of fashion. Being simply beautiful was never Mal’s modus operandi, to his understanding. He distastefully eyed the princess silhouette and delicate blue lace before looking toward the bed. Unable to see over the bed frame, Carlos stiffly pulled himself to his feet and found Mal asleep.

Of course she was, he realized, because her room was lit in the dark blue shadows of twilight. Looking back at her, Carlos noticed her hair was strewn over the pillow. Her long eyelashes, longest at the corners, nearly brushed her cheeks as her chest softly rose and fell under white linen sheets. If he’d been told this was Sleeping Beauty, there would be no argument from him.

He looked from her to the yellow dress then back. Gears turned in his head, but it was too soon for him to know what the machine of his mind was making.

Carlos wondered why she hadn’t woken him up and tossed him out. She could be unpredictably nice, likely Ben’s influence.

More concerned yet with the conundrum of the yellow dress, he tiptoed toward the door and barely touched the golden handle when a voice sleepily called out, “Sneaking out on me?”

Embarrassed, Carlos turned around and found Mal lying her on side, the position drawing his eye to her shoulder, down to the dip of her waist, then up her hip. With Auradon no longer having winters, making spring unseasonably warm, all that clothed her was a cotton nightdress in lavender.

‘Don’t be weird,’ he told himself.

“I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“And running out is better? Stupid,” Mal said the last word affectionately.

She sat up and yawned into her hand. The four poster twin with the white sheets dotted in pink rosebuds looked ridiculously dainty for her. He turned his head away when the sheets pulled back to reveal her sleeping gown had bunched above her knees. Her feet set on the cool wood floor, and the gown’s hem dropped to her ankles.

A sudden thought turned him scarlet. “Did — you — change while I was in the room?”

He didn’t know if it was from just waking up, but she hardly seemed to care. “I threw fabric over your face. Besides, most people don’t wake up when they’re snoring like that.”

His brain blew a fuse. He’d been in the same room as Mal when she’d changed — a full outfit change — and with her consent. That he’d not been consciously aware hardly mattered. The picture formed in his mind of him, snoozing on the floor while Mal opened the armoire within reach of where his head rested on the pillow. His imagination blurred as he reluctantly tried and failed to not imagine her unzipping the back of her aqua dress. The fabric pooled around her feet, the skirt’s hem feet from his hair.

“I-isn’t it kind of weird?” Being around Mal was giving him whiplash. One day she was making fun of his failed attempts to ask Jane out, and now she was letting him sleep on her floor as if they’d been having sleepovers since childhood.

Her initial drowsiness gave way to a snort and eye-roll at his stunned expression. Then a thought struck her, sobering her. “Hey, I want to thank you for staying with me and working on my dress. Guess I shouldn’t have doubted you,” she ended almost guiltily.

Carlos didn’t know what to say. Besides how strange it was hearing Mal thanking him, he needed a moment to realize she wasn’t talking about the dress. He remembered too clearly her breakdown, the tears and yelling, sweeping over him with the suddenness of a summer storm. He’d frozen in panic until she’d been in danger of hurting herself. He still wrestled with the fact it was Ben who’d brought Mal to her emotional knees.

And now he needed to finish a dress that honored Ben and his family with no regard for what Mal wanted or what made her happy.

She quirked her head to one side. “Hey, are you okay?”

He shook his head, as if he could dislodge the still forming what-ifs regarding the dress. “No—I mean yeah, just—just got a lot on my mind. Go back to sleep. I’ll head out.” He turned to leave, hand touching the door knob.

“Carlos?” When he turned around, she continued with a waver in her voice, “Is it so wrong that I miss the Isle?”

There wasn’t a sound to be heard as they looked searchingly at each other. He saw Mal without her protective outfits and ego. She stood barefoot, and he noticed the top of her head reached his nose.

He looked inside himself for an answer, and he went with his heart. “No, Mal.” Carlos shook his head for emphasis. “It’s home.”

“Because I know people are so much nicer here, and we get good food and comfy beds, but—” She pressed her lips together “—what if that’s not worth signing away my future? What if I want to decide my fate?”

Shaky yet serious down to his bones, Carlos said, “Then I’ll help you.”

She blinked, searching his face. Carlos wondered what she was looking for and why she was suddenly relying on him, specifically. He supposed she found what she wanted, and her shoulders dropped, relaxing, as a smile softened her face.

“Thanks, Carlos.” Hands on his shoulders, she barely raised up onto her toes before pecking his cheek. Her hands slid off. He leaned forward as if to kiss her cheek before he awkwardly ducked away, suddenly afraid he’d miscalculate and kiss her eye.

He sidestepped toward the door and turned the knob without opening it. “I’ll be, uh, back after class?”

The corner of her mouth quirked up. “Yeah you will.”

Carlos passed through the day hardly cognizant of his classes. He saw too many A-line cuts, too many shapeless cardigans, too many pastels, and all of it pointed out in his mother’s bored voice followed by one single line:

“Fashion should be fun.”

During chemistry, he perplexed Mr. Deley by not raising his hand for a single question. Evie, who shared the black topped lab station with him, shot him a blatantly concerned glance. That day, she sported a boating hat and fashioned hers with a blue ribbon. Carlos vaguely noticed a few other girls in class wearing similar hats with different ribbons and broaches.

“Can anyone balance this equation —” Mr. Deley waved his chalk at a collection of abbreviated elements and numbers on the board “—to form tin metal and water vapor?”

Some people stared down at their texts or notebooks while others stared at an undetermined point not the wall or board. No one looked directly at the teacher, who wanted to move on with the lesson. Even Evie distractedly stared at her open notebook despite being fully capable of the question.

The teacher heaved a sigh. “Carlos, please come to the board.”

Said boy stopped drawing invisible lines with his eraser on his textbook and got up. If, in his absence, Evie had observed the eraser’s trailer of rubbery shavings, she’d have recognized the silhouette of Mal’s princess ballgown. But, Evie’s unseeing gaze strayed far from her environment.

Carlos felt half-there as well when he picked up the least abused chalk piece. He read the equation before adding a coefficient of two in front of the water. Mr. Deley opened his mouth to point out the problem, how Carlos had just put hydrogen out of balance. Carlos ignored the attempt to interrupt him and added a coefficient of two to hydrogen.

He returned to his seat without hearing Mr. Deley complimenting his work, because all he could think was fashion should be fun.

Class eventually ended, and he heard Evie say something about wishing they could hang out in the quad, but she had cotillion and hat orders to work on. This could have been a segue into asking her about this new hat obsession, but the thought existed far from the forefront of his mind.

He grabbed lunch from the dining hall and stuffed the sandwich in his bag to carry back to his dorm. Carlos knew his mind’s carousel of the same repeating thoughts made him no good company to his friends. Dude needed attention and feeding anyway.

Food clattered into the plastic food dish seconds before Dude stuck his nose in and began chomping. Tightly rolling up the kibble bag, Carlos dropped it on the main table, near his 3D printer. He grabbed a piece of printer paper, set it on his creaseless notebook, and searched for a pencil.

‘Fashion should be fun.’

Forgetting that his lunch was currently becoming pancaked under his chem book, he found a pencil and began roughly sketching out the princess gown. Drawing was not his forte, but Carlos compromised on a rough sketch.

The princess ballgown with its pale yellow frills and delicate blue lace reappeared in his mind.

‘That dress is so boring,’ Carlos thought while drawing, erasing, and redrawing. ‘I wish I could talk to Mom.’

Sudden pressure snapped the pencil’s sharpened end. Carlos sat straighter, staring at his sketch and wondering why he’d thought that. For all of the wishes he’d had throughout his life regarding his mother, to talk fashion with her was a new one.

‘But she’d know what to do. Because—‘ Carlos remembered with sharp clarity a note in red ink, pinned to the crowded cork board in his mother’s extensive fashion workshop. Colored sketches of high fashion concepts came and went with the seasons, but she always kept that one note displayed.

‘—fashion should be fun.’

He accomplished nothing over lunch and only got up when he heard the warning bell. Swinging his backpack up, Carlos remembered his sandwich and dug it out to eat on the way. He was in the process of wolfing it down when he spotted Mal halfway across the courtyard.

Being bareheaded in the beginning of a chapeau renaissance (‘Seriously, why are hats having a moment?’) made her particularly easy to notice. She rummaged through her locker, and Carlos studied how her elbows seemed stuck in a ninety-degree angle like a plastic fashion doll. Her shoulders squared like she was about to fight something, but being Mal, that was not an impossibility. Her legs had all the flexibility of popsicle sticks as she headed off to class.

‘Peter pan collar, chiffon, yellow again,’ he observed, taking stock of her appearance. ‘Chignon again. Sad again.’ Seeing her actively dull her vibrant hues into subdued pastels almost seemed like a tragedy.

He spent so much time thinking about Mal that he never gave himself the chance to be self-aware or to check the time.

Seconds after the bell rang, he rushed into Virtues and Values class. He skirted along the wall to a back desk and ignored the teacher, who said something about the importance of punctuality. Carlos mumbled an apology without meaning it.

‘Punctuality isn’t exciting or fun,’ his mother said in that affected way of hers. ‘Even worse, it’s predictable, just like how all of these ‘good guys’ dress.’

‘And fashion should be fun,’ Carlos added for her.

He mechanically copied the notes on the board and the key words spoken by the teacher. Their unit on charity vaguely interested him, and he actually wanted to pay attention. Carlos liked the idea of giving back to others. He imagined how much more bearable living on the Isle would have been if people helped each other. He wondered what the Isle was like without Maleficent lording over everyone.

He wondered how his mom was doing.

“What are some examples of charity within the United Kingdoms of Auradon?” the teacher asked while writing on the board.

“The Habitat for Retired Animal Sidekicks?”

“The annual charity drive to send toiletries and canned food to the Isle?”

The dress, his mother, the Isle, and Mal all vanished from his mind.

“The VK Program.”

The teacher wrote that at the top. “Excellent example, Lonnie.”

Carlos, skin prickling, looked up from his notebook.

Barely turning his head, he made direct eye contact with Lonnie, who then intently began focusing on taking notes. She had been too late. He’d already recognized recognized her pitying look from his first week at Auradon Prep, when she found the Core Four baking Mal’s love spell cookies for Ben. Not realizing the true nature of their late night baking, Lonnie waxed nostalgic about baking chocolate chip cookies with her mother as a child.

‘Didn’t your parents bake cookies with you too?’ She’d said before realizing she’d put her foot in it from the sad looks on their faces. ‘Oh, I figured, y’know, villains must love their kids too…’

Carlos’ jaw clenched, and he looked back down at his notebook, just a blur as his blood rushed. ‘No, Lonnie, they didn’t because we didn’t have chocolate chips on the Isle, not unless someone in Auradon threw out a half-used bag.’ Or gave it to them out of charity.

The teacher continued on with the lesson, but Carlos wasn’t taking notes. He felt the urge to ball up the crisp, college-ruled pages and pelt the teacher.

Or Lonnie.

‘If my mother didn’t love me, Lonnie, then she would’ve had me killed. It’s what her mother tried doing to her,’ he felt like snapping. They didn’t know his mother. Cruella often recalled being extravagantly wealthy and that if they hadn’t been on the Isle, he’d be attending the finest private school in Magical London. They certainly wouldn’t have needed Auradon’s charity.

‘And an example of charity,’ he directed at the clueless teacher, ‘is me not—’ Carlos faltered, because in his chest, he knew he’d been about to make a threat of violence. Even without putting words to it, the feeling remained hot in his chest.

Class ended shortly thereafter, and he left without looking at anyone. Not since that first week had Carlos felt so deeply self-conscious of his black, white, and red street outfit compared to the polished oxfords and pastel suits of his male classmates. He’d asked Mal to spell his hair to be straight, but now he questioned his motives for doing so. At the time, he wanted to try a new look and emphasize the white in his hair. Now, he wondered if it was to fit in, to hide his ‘dark roots.’ Carlos didn’t know.

“Hey!” Jay appeared at Carlos’ side while the latter stared into his open locker. Slapping his friend’s arm, Jay continued, “Grabbed a pack of energy drinks—”

“Jay,” Carlos cut in, “do you ever think about us being charity cases?”

The muscular boy opened his mouth to automatically say ‘no,’ but his expression morphed into a thoughtful one. “I dunno. I see it as them giving us a chance.”

“After they ignored us for years,” Carlos said, glaring at the back of his locker.

“Look man, I don’t wanna’ overthink a really good thing.” Jay, whose answer to difficult feelings was to be active, said, “Hey, Lonnie and I were going to fence after class. Grab your gear and we can work out whatever’s gettin’ you.”

Thinking of Lonnie in this context of fencing made Carlos pity her, talented yet held back by misogynistic rules and people too complacent to change them. ‘Some rules deserve to be broken.’

“Can’t.” His locker snapped shut. “I’m working on Mal’s dress after class.” He wondered if she would understand, not accept things as they were because it was nice on the surface. And just as much as wanting someone to understand, he wanted someone to feel sad with him, not at him.

“Why was I even put on Tourney and R.O.A.R.?” Carlos asked contemplatively while they walked to class. He found himself side-eyeing the one note cardigans and shapeless shawls so many girls threw over their boring dresses.

’Stop it, Carlos,’ he chided himself. ‘Those cardigans are probably comfortable and keep them warm in class. They dressed for themselves, not critics like you.’

Underneath those thoughts, he could hear his mother’s derisive ‘ugh.’

‘But that shade of yellow in her cardigan really doesn’t go with her hair.’

That was it. By Carlos’ own rule of three quiet critiques deserved one public compliment, he now had to call out, “Hey, Rachel!” Said girl turned, her nearly floor length blonde braid twisting around her knees as he said, “Your flower pins look great.”

Rachel, daughter of Rapunzel, touched one of the bright violet flower pins dotting her hair and beamed brightly, “Aww that means so much coming from you! Thank you!” With a blush and a turn, she carried on her way.

Carlos cleared his voice and looked to his friend. “So back to my question.”

Jay shrugged. “Probably thought you’d be good at it,” he ventured.

“Why? I was a scared, nerdy kid. Sports were never my thing.”

Their conversation paused briefly as a couple girls passed, smiling and shyly saying, “Hi, Jay.”

Jay grinned. “Heeey.” That was Jay, Carlos observed, always friendly, always cool, and never interested once they’d passed.

“Then why do you think they did?” Jay pivoted back to the subject quicker than Carlos expected. The two boys had not gotten close until being roommates at Auradon Prep, so he was still adjusting to the other’s unexpected perceptiveness. The quality did make sense in an accomplished former thief.

“Because I’m a VK. They probably figured I was mean and violent by nature.”

“Man,” Jay groaned, “you are rocking every boat today.”

“Maybe the boat should get rocked,” Carlos said heatedly, careful to keep his voice down.

Jay jerked his thumb toward a door. “This is my class.” He clapped Carlos on the shoulder. “Chill, man.”

His shoulders slumped as he was then left alone. The halls emptied as classmates rushed to be on time, but he maintained his slow pace, feeling weighed down. Everything seemed so dull to him now, from the oak paneling to the yellow and blue banners. All of Auradon was bright and clean and boring. For the first time in his life, he had half the mind to skip class to find something more stimulating. He would not find that in his History of Auradon class.

What he found there instead was a pink detention slip.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. De Vil?” the teacher asked in their best attempt at being imposing.

A disbelieving smirk tugged at a corner of his mouth. He grew up in a neighborhood of terrifying villains with reputations for cursing innocents, waging war, and stealing crowns. His own mother, a woman of no magical prowess, secured her seat of power among them on the Isle through sheer viciousness. It was ludicrous to think a history teacher could intimidate a boy who grew up among them all.

Between that and the detention slip pinched between his fingers, the whole scene was an absolute farce.

“Well?” the teacher pressured him for a response.

When Carlos opened his mouth to speak, he laughed. “Worth it.”

Once classes concluded, he went straight to after school detention, population him. Well, in that dusty classroom off the library, there was also Sleepy’s son, What’s-His-Face. Carlos didn’t acknowledge the introduction as he plopped into his seat and took out his chem homework. He’d barely fished a pencil from his bag when Jane scurried through the door so fast she needed one hand to keep her straw boater hat on.

Sleepy’s son reacted seconds too slow before realizing it was the Fairy Godmother’s daughter, so he relaxed into his seat behind the desk and adjusted his headphones.

“Carlos!” she exclaimed in a breathless, whispery voice. “I heard what happened. Are you okay?”

He blinked at her, the question making little sense to him. Then he felt annoyed that the school had nothing better to do than talk about an Isle kid getting detention.

Much as he wanted to enunciate how he was fine, Carlos instead chose to meet her question with a better one. “Jane, have you ever felt sorry for me? Because I grew up on the Isle? Because I’m a De Vil?”

Jane visibly melted, her eyebrows sloping downward. “Oh Carlos, it must’ve been so hard on you, because you’re such a sweet person, but you’re in Auradon now and you’re safe,” she said all at once. “Was it a trauma response? Did something upset you? Or trigger you? Because my mom—”

“Jane.”

It came from a place where an anger had been building in him since longer than he could remember, possibly since his days being bullied on the Isle. It came from a place he hadn’t realized existed.

She stared, wide-eyed and mouth shut.

Knowing he’d come off too strong, Carlos couldn’t make himself care in that moment as he flatly said, “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

Her face flushed a splotchy pink while her eyes became a watery mess. “Sorry,” she barely croaked, nodding briefly before rushing out of detention.

Carlos watched her fly out the door and didn’t wait for the door to close before leaning back in his chair, closing his eyes, and audibly sighing. Angry as he felt at just about everyone that day, all it took were tears to make him face the fact Jane did not deserve his ire. Despite her ignorance, she’d only meant well.

‘Well, if everyone’s talking about me, at least Mal will know why I’m not at the fitting.’

He noticed Sleepy’s son uneasily watching him. Carlos threw a dirty look, making the other boy jump to pretending to focus on homework. Flipping open his chem book, Carlos set to work on unraveling the intricacies of the periodic table. Science always helped him feel better when nothing was right.   

Rain poured down the window pane, and Carlos idly listened to the unannounced spring storm which had rolled in. Auradon had too much fair weather since sentencing Hades to the Isle, leaving Persephone with no reason to stay in the Underworld. The Isle of the Lost never got as warm as Auradon, but being so warm had its set-backs, to Carlos’ surprise. Some days, the bright sunlight and warm air made him dizzy with a headache. Jay was quick to help Carlos set-up black-out curtains in their dorm, so he doubted he was the only one.

But when it rained, he felt like a piece of him sighed with relief as cool air touched his skin again. Detention was almost relaxing for this reason. That, and this was not even an inconvenience for him. Homework need done at some point between R.O.A.R. and dressmaking.

Then, a mere whisper over the sonorous pattering, he heard her voice.

“Prick the finger, prick it deep. Send my target off to sleep.”

Carlos blinked, wondering if he’d just imagined it. Looking up, he found the desk chair empty as Sleepy’s son shuffled toward a cactus plant on the window sill. He stared, entranced at the needles so fine they appeared soft and fuzzy.

“Ouch!” he hissed, rubbing the pricked finger. He rubbed his thumb over the pinprick of blood before curling his hand into a fist, yawning into it, and promptly curling up on the thin, blue rug.

The door slowly opened. Mal leaned her hip against the doorframe and, eyes sparkling, admired her magic at work. For a moment, she’d looked ready to snap her fingers and reappear as her violet-haired self in stitched-together leather jacket. Of course she didn’t, but Carlos turned his head sideways as he looked at her smirking in Auradon’s royal yellow.

His mind was on the verge of relinquishing what it’d been working on since he awoke on Mal’s bedroom floor.

Said fairy sauntered over to him and placed her hands on either side of his chemistry book. “Came as soon as I heard you were doing hot guy shit.”

He stared, skeptical. When she didn’t reveal it to be the start of a back-handed compliment, he only continued to watch and wait. Carlos knew from experience that punch lines needed him to give them power by speaking first. Mal slid from her hands down to her elbows so they were eye level.

She gave a short laugh through her smile. “What’s with the look?”

No one had called him hot before, leaving him in an uncomfortable state of self-effacing skepticism mixed with breathless hope she’d meant it.

“What hot guy shit?” he asked instead, managing to sound like she made no sense. Carlos had an idea what she referred to, but by asking a question, she’d be the one talking.

Now she smiled in the endearing fashion that scrunched her nose and showed off her perfect teeth.

“Come on.” She flipped his textbook shut. “The only thing hotter than getting detention is ditching it.”

Throwing a look at his deeply slumbering jailer, Carlos grabbed his backpack and followed her out. She walked ahead of him with the proud strut of a cat with a prize in its mouth. Nothing satisfied her more than the privilege of using her magic to her advantage and, judging by the pleased looks she threw over her shoulder at him, to his as well.

“Did you really laugh at Mr. Wright when he gave you detention?” she asked, speaking like she’d just eaten something delicious. Her delicate, ring adorned fingers shoved open the door to the formal gardens separating the main class building from the dorms. The door nearly smacked the brick wall, leaving time for Carlos to exit behind her. The rain had stopped, the sudden departure of humidity leaving the air weightless and raindrops sparkling.

“Yeah,” he said, neither humble nor arrogant over a moment when he’d briefly lost his mind.

“That’s what I mean by being hot,” she said playfully, nearly skipping down the steps. “If Jane isn’t into bad boys, maybe other girls are. Rachel was talking about you in my last class.”

He stiltedly replied, “I’m not that. I just —” He got distracted by the cute twirl she did to face him, skeptically check him out, then spin back around to continue leading the way “—I thought it was a really dumb way to get at me.”

His chest suddenly felt weird, like a bug fluttered inside. “What’s got you in a good mood?” He expected Ben’s name being dropped or learning she’d cooked up a devious scheme that had come to fruition.

Instead, Mal opened a set of double doors, turned to Carlos and said, “Weirdly enough, you.” She shrugged noncommittally, trying to play it off, then headed inside.

He caught one of the heavy outside doors and followed after. “Me?”

“Yeah,” she slowly started, voice faintly echoing off the hardwood. “Everyone here is always trying to behave and act so perfect. I guess it made me happy to hear that Carlos De Vil is giving them hell.”

Carlos exhaled sharply, beginning to smile at the realization this was the first time Mal had seemed so light. Seeing her now, he glimpsed her thriving and having fun.

‘Her dress should be fun too.’

Then everything clicked in his mind in a mad rush of tulle, studs, lace and one very sharp blade.

“Hey.” He reached out, and she turned toward him at the slightest touch. “I’m gonna’ grab something from my room. Go put on the dress. Leave the hoop skirt off.”

She quirked her head and squinted at him, but all he said was, “Trust me” before swiftly heading down a separate hallway toward the boys’ dorms. She didn’t say anything, but he was walking and thinking too quickly to have listened anyway.

Barging into his and Jay’s room, Carlos didn’t react when a startled cry rang out from near the 3D printer. “Chad, get out.”

Said prince barely acknowledged the order before returning his attention to the printer software. “Ten more minutes.”

Remembering Jay had actually tidied up his stuff before classes, Carlos rifled through Jay’s toiletries, tried not judging him for the three-in-one shampoo-conditioner-body wash monstrosity, then moved onto sorting through the dresser drawers. He searched his memory of watching Jay swipe the razor off the table, flip it in the air, catch it one-handedly, then he put it —

“Chad.” The dual-haired boy pulled a silver object from the sock drawer and experimentally flicked it open, revealing a gleaming blade. “No.”

The other boy’s baby blue eyes widened. “Um.” He swallowed then smiled nervously. “Y’know, I heard you were having a bad day so, uh, how about tomorrow?”

Snapping it shut and pocketing the razor, Carlos seized the other boy’s bicep then dragged him toward the door. Chad yelped when a rough shove sent him stumbling out the door. He caught himself on the opposite wall while Carlos stepped into the hallway then locked the door with a purposefully loud click.

“And for the record,” Carlos said, looking at the prince like he was a nuisance, “I know what you’re making, and it’s pathetic.”

He then strode in the direction of the girls’ wing without a second thought toward Chad. ‘Hot guy shit,’ he could hear Mal saying in his head. He didn’t agree; he just felt mad, like he’d lost his mind again. He’d be more bothered if it wasn’t so satisfying.

His walk to the girls’ wing felt shorter than usual. Instead of noticing the classmates he passed in the narrow halls, he only saw a new design, a fun design. He passed one girl who shyly smiled at him, but he’d already forgotten it. His head was bursting with visions of dresses and the sound of Mal’s voice speaking in words and tones he’d not yet deciphered.

He knocked twice on her door and entered the moment he heard, “If it’s Carlos, come in.”

The door snapped shut behind him as he wasted no time approaching where she stood in front of the wall-mounted TV. “Get up on the platform.”

Mal followed direction but not without throwing a strange look at Carlos, who’d started circling her. She watched him curiously, saying, “Why are you acting so weird?”

“Stand up straight,” he directed.

“Seriously, Carlos, answer me,” Mal said, her commanding tone mixing with annoyance.

He fluffed and adjusted the dress’ skirt. “About what?” Leaving the hoop skirt off created large pleats that swished with every turn of her hips. That was Mal in his mind, not stiff and careful but in motion, sauntering, running, and strutting.

“What’s got you in a mood?” Her voice dropped, adding, “Don’t get me wrong, ‘cause I actually kinda’ like it.” For all of her talking and questioning, she remained still while he paced.

He abruptly stopped and nodded to himself, resolving to the plan in his mind. Once he started, there would be no going back to how the dress was in this moment. One knee propped itself on the stand while he grasped the front of her skirt.

“What’s got me is—” In one smooth motion, Carlos flicked open the razor “—fashion should be fun.”

He bent his wrist, aiming, then slashed. A smooth tearing sound filled his ears. Extending his arm, the cut finished, and he could finally hear Mal’s horrified gasps.

“My dress! Carlos! You ruined my dress!”

“Stay still.” He switched to the other side and, quicker, tore an identical downward line. The yellow came off in a triangle meeting above her knees. Tulle puffed out, which Carlos then began to cut.

“Carlos! Are you even listening to me?!”

Grabbing another handful of tulle and pulling it taught, he sliced another section of tulle away and tossed it aside. His hand went back into the skirt’s layers only for his fingers to roughly seize a smooth ankle.

Her hand grasped his hair, painfully jerking his head back to look at her. “Ow!”

She abruptly released him and flushed from her face to her collarbone. Carlos didn’t ask why, instead standing up and running his fingers through his hair. Judging by her panting breath, Mal needed a second.

“So?” Mal said between breaths. “You listening now?”

His eyes flickered from her wide green ones to the partially destroyed dress. “Sorry,” he mumbled, his eyes finding her bare, exposed ankles.

Giving Mal a break from having her dress’ front sliced open, Carlos went for the lace above the tulle layers. Her hands grasped his shoulders as if to push him away, but she refrained. The seams ripped from the razor’s fantastically vicious tip. The lace band came right off. As he slowly circled Mal, she couldn’t keep twisting to follow. He moved out of reach of her hand and circled to her other side, where she continued watching him work. At last, the lace band fell away.

With a single flick at her back, the blue ribbon belt came off and into his hand to perhaps find use later.

Mal’s hand found its way again to the corner of his shoulder when the door to her room unceremoniously flew open. Both of them jolted out of their stupors to stare dumbfounded at a distressed Jane.

“Carlos, I’m so sorry about what I said earlier! I can’t stand the thought that I hurt you or ruined our friendship!” she blubbered. “I never even listened to you or let you talk! I just assumed how you felt!”

When Jane took a second to sniffle and breath, Mal glanced down at Carlos’ grimace and needed no further information. “Jane, is this your room?” she asked with blatantly sarcastic sweetness.

The younger girl blinked, discombobulated. “Um, n-no?”

Carlos knew what that was like, being questioned by Mal and nervously wondering what the right answer was.

Mal’s sweet tone dropped. “Then. KNOCK.”

The words came spilling out again. “I’m sorry! I went to detention but he was gone so I went to his room and then Jay said he might be with you—” Jane blinked rapidly, her brow furrowing as if her sight just kicked in. Mal in a dress tattered up the front and Carlos standing close to her with a silver blade in hand, left Jane audibly wondering, “What’s going on?”

Carlos caught her zero in on where Mal’s hand touched his shoulder. He could feel his heart beat.

“Y-you know you’re supposed to keep the door open if a member of the opposite sex is in your room!”

To Carlos, Jane had no idea how ridiculous the implication of him and Mal sounded. Only recently did he think they’d stopped being friends of convenience.

Mal’s fingers curled on his shoulder like a cat digging in its claws. “And you’re supposed to knock. So let’s call it even, and you can get out of my room.”

Recognizing Mal’s murder face (it momentarily put him back into their days attending Dragon Hall), Carlos moved out of her reach and strode over to Jane, mouth partway open and thus partway to earning Mal’s wrath.

“Jane,” he started, his free hand touching her shoulder to begin guiding her back toward the door. “I completely forgive you.”

“Y-you do?” Her big eyes anxiously watched the straight razor, still brandished in his other hand.

Following her gaze to the glinting metal, Carlos pressed his index finger on the blade’s dull side and snapped it shut. “Yeah, all is forgiven. I know you’re not a mean person.”

‘Just really privileged and ignorant,’ he grumbled to himself, though it made him ache deep in his chest to be angry at Jane.

She visibly melted, shoulders dropping and a bright, relieved smile relaxing her face. “Really? We’re still friends?”

For the first time, her smile didn’t render him dumb despite being no less dazzling. He was, disappointedly, left with all of his wits.

“Yeah, what happened didn’t affect anything. Let’s hang out later.” He guided her into the hallway.

“Really? When? Well I can’t later today, because I have to talk to the florist for the cotillion,” Jane returned to breathless rambling. “Or Saturday morning, because I have to make the final decision between a band, a choir, a five piece orchestra, or a DJ—”

“We’ll figure something out. I’ll text you!” Carlos shut the door and, exhaling tiredly, leaned his back against the door. His placating smile dissipated into a frown, because things were different between him and Jane now, at the worst possible time. He was so lost in staring miserably at the floorboards that he failed to notice Mal intently watching him.

“Well?” she insisted when he didn’t offer an explanation “What did she do?”

Much as Carlos wanted to deflect and claim the whole show was over nothing, another part of him still jumped when Mal told him to. “Jane hit a sore spot,” he grumbled, rubbing the space between his brows. “She didn’t know, so—” he shrugged helplessly “—I’m not holding it against her.”

“Bullshit.” Mal descended from the pedestal. “Jane obviously just lost her chance at a date for cotillion.”

Carlos shook his head, not in denial but regret for the day’s events. “And so did I.”

She advanced on him, an assertive motion that made him pay more attention to how much more interesting and fun the dress was already beginning to look in its half-ruined state. Though standing, her ankles seemed to rest in a bed of fluttering ruffles.

“Is Jane the reason you’ve been acting differently?” she asked, searching his face so intently that Carlos looked away toward the covered terrarium at her bedside. “First you get detention, then you’re tearing my dress apart while I’m in it. Is all this about whatever dumb thing Jane said?”

He delayed looking at Mal a moment longer before giving in, meeting her insistent gaze and saying, “No. Yes. I’m—”

Carlos shook his head, wrestling with the idea of actually sharing his feelings with her, possibly the least sensitive person he knew. She wouldn’t relate at all; and yet, the way she stood there, watching, waiting, left him believing she wanted to understand and know him. And damn if Carlos didn’t need to be known.

“People have always looked down on me.”

He swallowed.

“Everyone knew they could pick on me, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.” He took a deep breath that shuddered in his chest, because the truth shook him even to say. Being smaller and meeker than the rest of his classmates at Dragon Hall, he’d been no stranger to being sent careening into lockers and having textbooks stolen. The school didn’t have a nurse, so he’d once gone an entire school day with a sore and bruising black eye before he could put a cold rag on it at home.

“I’ve been called a coward and a skunk — “ The slur, spiked and vile, twisted in his throat “—and now people look down on me because they feel sorry for me. I—I just—” Tears burned in the corners of his eyes “—I hate it.”

When all he could do was swallow and shake his head at the floorboards, Mal took over. She shortened the distance the between them and reached near his elbow. The door’s lock clicked shut. He looked dumbly from her hand to her face.

“Carlos.”

His heart jumped at the way she said his name, her voice kind and strong.

“They’ve got it all wrong.” She shook her head, the gesture beginning small before growing more dramatic, insistent, stopping when she went on, “I feel sorry for Jane and everyone here who isn’t us.”

Carlos hung on her every word, and Mal was more than ready to give a speech.

“You and I are not who we were on the Isle,” she said, voice growing louder though they were a foot apart. “I’m not heartless, and you’re not a coward. No, I am powerful and you are a genius — and we know how to fight for what we want. I stood up to my mother. You see Jane doing that anytime soon? You created an anti-magic device that was nearly more powerful than the Fairy Godmother’s wand and you don’t let people push you around anymore!”

If the iron had entered his soul remembering the past, then she’d breathed fire, melting it.

“You,” she said in a way that made him pay attention to her mouth, “could ask anyone you wanted to cotillion.”

His slack jaw closed as he flatly looked at her. Carlos didn’t want to ask anyone else to cotillion now. If Jane felt sorry for him, then chances were so did everyone else. He would’ve gone with a close friend instead, but Evie was spoken for, and Mal was getting pre-engaged.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” she said, taking an insulted tone.

Carlos averted his gaze to the side, making her snap, “I didn’t mean not look at me!”

He found his cheek cupped by her hand as she slowly turned his head back to her. Her other hand gently pressed against the other side of his face. His expression morphed into unabashed surprise that she’d put them in this position.

Quieter, Mal said, “Everyone who’s ever looked down on you was wrong. I was wrong.” She didn’t shy from the fact she’d been one of his bullies as kids. “And you keep proving people wrong, and I really like that about you.”

Something between them had changed, had become magnetized. He felt himself drawn to her, to her face, to her lips still parted from speaking. Her hands still on his face, their gazes wide and locked, he wondered if she might feel it too. She took a half-step closer, a line forming between her brows as if weighing thoughts he’d die to know.

Because his lips had never been so inevitably drawn to another person’s in his life.

With his back to the door, Carlos had nowhere to go, yet, he wasn’t looking for one. Part of him wondered what was over that edge which tasted like her pillowy lips, and his logical mind was too far gone to whisper, ‘Consequences.’

Mal’s hands dropped from his face as she shakily stepped back before casually stating, “My dress isn’t going to fix itself, you know.” She returned to the stand and straightened her shoulders, ready to be his living mannequin.

Carlos languidly pushed himself from the door so he could dutifully return to standing before her. His fingers pulled out the razor and opened it as if he’d been using it for ages. The high-low effect of the dress’ front was satisfactory, but he wanted to dye the tulle and chiffon layers for a vibrant yellow. And that blue, because Carlos knew the blue would have to stay, needed to go a shader deeper. The two colors came together in his mind, the appearance verging on garish but demanding attention among a sea of harmonious color palettes. He envisioned a disruptive dress reflecting Mal’s effect on Auradon.

Visualizing where the lace would go, he worked up from the skirt to the bodice, the latter still sporting a blue lace appliqué which Evie’s sketch notes revealed her own dissatisfaction with the real life effect.

Mal looked from her chest to Carlos and covered herself with her hands. “Get a smaller knife first!”

“I uh—” he cleared his throat and closed the razor “—I’d use a seam ripper on that lace. Uh—and after you’d taken it off— when I’m not in the room.”

In his self-conscious haste to hide his blush, he’d failed to notice Mal’s matching expression. “I think I can just work on it when you’re not wearing it,” he said without looking at her. Going to the door, he fumbled the knob before remembering to undo the lock, then stepped outside without a word from her.

When she signaled him to come back inside, the rest of the session, lasting until dinner, passed in the same fashion. Everything said was forcibly casual or obviously awkward; so, they barely talked. She busied herself with a royal etiquette book focused solely on the finer aspects of garden parties. That suited Carlos, who preferred uninhibited concentration while taking the much smaller ripper to the many fine threads connecting the lace to the bodice.

He wondered, though, if he’d imagined Mal stealing glances at him from the corner of his eye.

Chapter Text

This was the night.

They rendezvoused outside the Auradon Prep stables, where she quickly found the young king attempting to obscure himself in the bushes. Owning nothing in black, he’d dressed in his darkest blue athletic attire, which meant his old R.O.A.R. uniform with a blue summer jacket thrown overtop the yellow accents. After he’d dislodged himself from the stiff branches and brushed off the fine, bristly leaves, Evie stretched a midnight blue beanie over his head to obscure his tarnished gold hair.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” She couldn’t get over how she’d essentially asked him to put his reputation in danger.

Ben replied, “Yeah” like they were running a quick errand.

“And did you turn off locations on your phone?”

He tugged his phone out of his back pocket and tapped on the screen. “Now I did.”

“Good. Now let’s go.”

This was not Evie’s first time sneaking into the Museum of Cultural History, a building whose marble facade resembled those on Mt. Olympus but with a sterile interior. Mal’s arrogant confidence had rubbed off on all of them at the time, making the experience thrilling rather than harrowing. Now, she held onto Ben’s quiet certainty to keep her composure.

If they were caught, she may have to come clean about the sinister horns growing on her head. Or maybe they’d be lucky and find the mirror. Assuming she could convince it to listen to her, maybe she’d get her answers. The possibility that morning would come and she’d be as lost as she was now left a pit in her stomach. Hats could only be in fashion for so long.

They’d taken a shortcut through a sunken botanical garden and walking trails, a much quicker route than the VKs had taken all those years ago. Ben even knew where to have them climb the perimeter fence to avoid guard stations around Auradon Prep. He clasped his  hands together and offered her a lift up, but Evie just smiled at him and pulled herself up with practiced ease. Her fingers and toes easily found the indents between the bricks.

“Is there anything you can’t do in heels?” Ben asked in amazement.

Straddling the brick wall, Evie whispered down, “Swim.” Her leg swung over as she dropped and landed soundlessly in the grass.

Scrapes and grunts could be heard from the other side, leaving Evie wondering if she should have offered him the foot up. Eventually, Ben’s fingertips grasped the top of the wall preceded by the rest of him. He laid his chest flat on the wall, heaved his legs over, then dropped gracelessly. She grabbed his arm to help pull him to his feet, where he wobbled briefly like a newborn giraffe.

“You know, I was starting to worry you’ve done this before,” she tried joking while brushing grass off his back.

“Good thing I’m with a professional,” he said, still whispering. “Follow me, I’ve got the shortest path there memorized.”

Ben, back bent low, hurried along as if anyone might be on their tails any moment. Her tensed leg muscles kept her footsteps light as she followed right behind.

“How do you know the quickest way?” Evie had wanted to do more preparation for their excursion, but she couldn’t find the chance between orders and homework.

“My mom has the largest private library in Auradon and kept rooms full of old records. I checked a map of the area and found some old archives when they were building the museum,” he whispered, eyes wide as he looked around before deviating far from the gravel roadway and into the forest.

They put their conversation on pause as they traversed over fallen trees, down a gully, and uphill until they emerged in a glade of neatly trimmed grass. Far across, there was the Museum of Cultural History. The open space left her anxious. Ben started forward, but Evie grabbed the back of his jacket.

“A covered path is better than a straight path,” she explained before leading the way along the tree line. She’d pinned her jacket’s hood into place, but she feared the horns left odd lumps on top of her head.

‘It won’t matter unless we’re caught.’ Her eyes went from the open lawn and up to the ever closer museum in a fine frenzy.

The tree line finally converged on the backside of the massive building. When she went toward the front with the intention of ascending the wide set of front steps, Ben tugged on her hand and nodded toward the a side cement path that descended steeply into the ground.

Still hunched despite their complete lack of cover if anyone saw them, Ben explained, “The database listed your mother’s mirror in storage.”

He trotted down the path and toward the metal security door at the bottom. Evie checked their surroundings again before silently slinking after him. By the time she reached him, he’d finished punching in the access code. He turned the knob and pulled, causing a screech of rusty hinges to ring in their ears. Ben froze, eyes wide.

“Hold on.” Evie rifled through her crossbody purse and found her hair oil. Pressing it into the thin crack in the door where she knew the hinges to be, Evie pumped the oil up and down until she’d nearly run through the bottle.

Cautiously, Ben pulled the door fully open without a sound, and she followed him inside, out of the dark and into the fluorescent yellow light. They stood close together, unmoving, as they stared at the long hallway stretching into a far off doorway. Off-white cement walls and brown tile floor tinged in yellow caged them in. They listened carefully for signs of the guards but heard only the dull thrum of electricity.

Evie’s mouth had gone dry.

“Cozy,” Ben shakily joked, throwing a weak but encouraging smile.

“Yeah,” she quietly agreed, their talking making her feel better. “Love it.” Evie walked toward the closest open doorway and peeked inside, finding a cluster of lockers used by the guards to store their belongings and a break room fridge.

Ben touched her elbow. “The inventory report said it’s supposed to be in the sub basement, 6B, storage block M.” They both looked to the top of the doorway and found a tiny gold placard reading ‘1B.’ The eeriness of the liminal space urged them forward, rushing down the hallway. They stuck close, arms brushing every few steps.

‘2B…3B…’

Then the far metal door at the hallway’s end opened.

Evie heard the dry hinges squeal before they saw it move. She locked Ben’s arm with hers and threw them into a doorway. Her bent elbow jabbed down on the door handle, and they disappeared into darkness. Ben, falling sideways, had either the good sense or good luck to grasp the door handle to close it behind them.

And just as he caught himself that way, Evie’s foot stepped back and into thin air. She fell backwards, her arm slipping from his. Her heart dropped to her stomach. her teeth clenched to not cry out.

In the pitch blackness, their hands found each other and clasped together for dear life. Evie balanced on her heel, and they both froze as the footsteps became louder.

Then they were right outside the door—

—and passing by.

Ben’s hand suddenly pulled her forward, and she landed in his ready arms. They remained like so until their heartbeats and stressed panting settled. The footsteps faded away completely, and Evie suspected it may have been a guard going on break or to their locker for something.

‘Keep it together.’ They were only almost caught, and they’d otherwise been doing great until that moment.

When Evie spoke, the air she exhaled was louder than her words. “Ben, I need you to walk very quietly from now on.”

She felt his body jerk slightly, which she interpreted to be his head nodding. Letting go of him but not stepping away in case she fell again, Evie unzipped her purse and found her phone. The screen lit up to show three missed texts from Doug. She swiped left to remove them from her screen and found the flashlight app.

White light erupted in the confined space. Gratitude toward Ben swept over Evie as she realized what awaited her if she’d fallen. They stood now on the metal landing of a winding set of steel stairs which zigzagged down into darkness. Her phone’s light moved to the first landing, where it reflected off a door and a placard reading ’Sub B1.’

“This is it,” Ben whispered, though not so quiet as Evie. “Let me go first, just in case.”

She nearly reminded him that she was surer on her feet, but his chivalry was not unwelcome after her near fall down a flight of stairs. Hands on the rail, they said no more as they tiredly huffed and descended one flight after another. Just as her knees began to feel like jelly, they landed on solid, cement ground. Before them was Sub B6.

Ben grasped the handle, and the door opened without protest.

The smell hit them first, something like dirt after it’s rained and the stale dustiness of old books. Then, a stark darkness bore a hole right into them before Evie held up her phone. The device’s light shone on a few crates stacked on pallets. Ben stepped halfway into the room and rubbed his arm along the wall until he found the switch.

Two overhead lights illuminated the room, where dust visibly floated. Ben threw a victorious smile back at Evie before heading into the room. She looked up the dark stairwell to see if anyone spied from above. With no sign of interlopers, she walked inside and left the door slightly ajar, preferring to risk a guard rather than getting locked inside.

“So, how big is it?” Ben felt around the crates for an identifier to what was inside.

“I don’t know,” Evie confessed. She’d only ever heard of the Magic Mirror from her mother, who’d never had a reason to draw a picture of it. “Bigger than a hand mirror. Big enough to put on a wall?”

“Something long and flat,” he said to himself before walking over to a wall where two large crates leaned casually. Ben knelt beside the first one and assessed how to get it open.

Evie’s attention wandered to palette with two boxes, lids barely askew. She carefully knelt to balance on the balls of her feet and pushed the first top aside. Her phone’s light waved over the contents, making the broken glass and dented bronze of empty genie bottles shine.

‘All of the genies are free now, at the cost of losing their magic and becoming mortal,’ Evie recalled from History of Auradon. ‘Why can’t Mal see it’s so much better to be free than powerful?’

Replacing the lid, she moved on to the next box and found inside two things which confused her. It was not one of those times when she could explain why she was confused. Even the reason perplexed her.

Ben, who’d looked over his shoulder to check on her when she’d gone quiet, called over, “Find something?”

Evie reached inside and touched one of the broken objects. “Yeah, I did…”

Prompted either by the intrigue of what was in the box or concern for her tone of voice, Ben abandoned the larger crate and went to kneel beside her. “Oh.”

He didn’t know what to make of the two broken wands either. Despite their broken states, they looked equally magnificent to the Fairy Godmother’s wand displayed in the exhibit above them. The first gleamed like aquamarine and had starflower blossoms dotting the handle, suggesting it had belonged to a powerful fairy. The end had been bashed, its end shattered. The second wand could have been mistaken for gold before it’s been snapped. Green vines made of emerald appeared to grow from handle to point.

Evie touched the golden one, turning it over and revealing a single red rose made of glass tucked into the vines encircling the handle.

“Who do you think these belonged to?” Evie saw so much character and power within the magic wands that they had to belong to someone, and not just anyone.

“I’ll have to check my mom’s records again.” Ben gently slid the lid back over them and met her eye. “C’mon. We can’t forget why we’re here.” He stood back up and offered a hand.

Evie accepted and was immediately hauled up without issue. “You’re right. Thanks.” She followed him back over to the first tall, skinny crate. “So what’s the problem here?”

“It’s hammered shut. The screws are pretty loose, but I didn’t bring anything.”

“That’s why you’re the intel, and I’m—” She smirked and pulled a pair of tweezers from her bag “—the know-how.”

Ben accepted the beauty tool and clicked the two ends together. Evie playfully elbowed his ribs then flipped the tweezers in his fingers so the blunt end pointed up. He grinned in understanding at her then set to work.

A proper screwdriver would have gone faster, but the longer they were down there, the more certain Evie felt no one would come down to find them. She walked around while Ben diligently removed screws. She observed him setting the loosened screws into a tiny pile was the closest this sub-basement came to organization.

‘Why is the Magic Mirror down here?’

“Got it!” Ben half announced, half grunted while prying off the last screw and heavy lid with it.   The wood scraped as he carefully rested the lid to the side.

Loose straw fell and piled at the bottom. The two gently dug through the straw until their fingers touched something brittled and weathered, like a dead leaf. They stared at the unexpected sight of a pair of fairy wings, so faded and dried out that their original color could not be deduced. Each pair had a crinkled section, as if they’d been carelessly gripped.

Evie set a hand over her uneasy stomach. It hurt her to see something so beautiful become so ruined.

Solemnly, Ben put the lid back overtop. “Let’s try the other one.”

She nodded and found a free spot to sit on a pallet to watch while he worked. Neither talked. Evie’s mouth had gone dry, and Ben embraced distracting himself with the task at hand. She folded her arms over her knees and rested her head. Exchanging working on Mal’s dress for creating a hat craze to cover her own need to wear hats did not make her workload any easier. A big yawn escaped her. After what felt like too long, the last screw popped.

“Evie?”

Ben’s uncertain voice pulled her out of a sleepy reverie. “Hm?” She raised her head and pushed her hair back, unintentionally also pulling off her hood to reveal a pair of horns longer and pointier than when she’d asked for his help.

“I think this is it.” He paused. “I hope this isn’t it.”

She was alert and on her feet, then at his side. They stared at the upright, golden frame of the Magic Mirror and its shattered pieces. A hole sat dead center of the glass with cracks spider wedding out to the edges. Her heart sank. Hope slipped between her fingers.

“No—NO!”

Evie threw herself on the ground before it without care for the broken pieces which had fallen out upon opening.

“Wake up! Wake UP!” she cried to what was left of it, but the mirror sat dull and lifeless.

She grasped the frame. “Mirror Mirror on the wall! Wake up! Heed my call!”

First, it was like a shift in light hitting the remaining, cracked pieces. Then a lightning flash of electric blue blinded them before a smokey sapphire fog seemed to flit beyond the glass.

The voice which came rasped and whispered, words coming as if from great distance.

“Princess—”

Evie pressed her ear to the glass without mind for the sharp edges. Her heart raced.

“She who wakes me from eternal sleep,

For a short while

My services are yours. Speak.”

Her eyes went wide as she turned her face to stare into empty socket of a gaunt mask. She couldn’t believe she really spoke to her mother’s Mirror of legend and that he already knew her. A desperate part of her felt close to this esoteric spirit, her mother’s familiar, making her grip on the frame tighten.

“Spirit,” she started, “From my head, these horns grow. Tell me who cursed me. I must know!”

“The secrets which you seek—”

Ben knelt beside her in an attempt to hear the voice of this mysterious spirit.

“—belong to Grimhilde.”

Evie’s wide eyes looked at Ben, but he wasn’t looking at the mirror. His gaze went just over her head.

“Seek the queen.”

The smoke disappeared as the blue light faded. The spirit had returned to whence it’d came. Evie leaned away and, in going to gently brush any glass shards from her hair, found her hands glowing a soft blue.

“Woah,” Ben exhaled, blinking and clearly taking in everything which had happened.

“Yeah. Woah.” Evie shakily moved to stand up, and he started forward to support her elbows until she steadied on her feet. “Thanks. I—I just don’t understand.”

“How you did that?”

Evie pulled her hood back into place over her horns. “That, and if everything down here was broken accidentally or on purpose.” They both looked around at the eerie room, untouched for who knew how long until they’d broken in. “What I do know is I’ve had enough of this place.”

Ben showed his agreement by sliding the lid back over the destroyed mirror, dull and dead without Evie’s awakening touch. “We’ll talk about what everything means when we get out of here.”

With equal relief, they flipped off the lights and closed the door on the room of broken things. Their footsteps swiftly carried them up flight after flight, Evie leading, as if the room itself could chase them. She wanted distance and fresh air to clear her thoughts, jumbled and clouded by nerves.

Winded, they reached the top level with gloved hands sliding along the guide rails. Evie put her ear to the crack in the door and waited. Much as she wanted out, she forced herself to be patient. They were so close, with just this door then the next being their only obstacles until they were outside and rushing back to Auradon Prep with nothing in their way.

She decided to finally chance it and painstakingly cracked open the door to that umber drenched hallway. Her eyes squinted and blinked weakly. Her ears, however, were unimpeded from hearing the breakroom TV going.

Evie chewed the corner of her lip and weighed her options. Maybe no one was in there and a careless guard had left it on.

The blip of a walkie-talkie went off. The static mumbling of a man speaking followed by “All clear. Over” carried down the hallway.

‘Maybe the careless guard also left his walkie-talkie behind.’ She knew chances were too slim to risk. Turning and looking up at Ben, she could tell from his hesitant expression that he heard it too.

“Follow me,” she said, using her quietest voice again. He nodded and tucked more of his blond-brown hair into the beanie.

She opened the door enough for both of them to exit. Back straight and shoulders squared, ready for fight or flight at a moment’s notice, Evie threw another look down toward the break room then headed toward the door at the far end, the same which had opened unexpectedly earlier. Thankfully, Ben had learned to watch his steps and stayed close behind without question of their direction.

The door’s screeching not forgotten to her, Evie pulled her hair oil out before reaching the door and readily began pumping it over the top hinge, luckily exposed on their side. The faint whisper of air began escaping the nozzle, and she quickly screwed off the top. She dumped over last drop on the remaining hinges and used her fingers to rub them in. Ben tried helping to hurry up the process all while both threw nervous glances down the hallway.

Not wanting to chance a second longer, Evie pulled the door handle and took a second to glance what lay on the other side. The hallway’s lighting poured through the crack enough to reveal the first two steps upward and a handrail.

Evie grabbed Ben’s hand and rushed forward. She’d gotten a couple steps up when he tugged her hand as he took a moment to silently shut the door behind them. They didn’t need to tip the guard off by letting it slam.

‘I need to be careful and quiet,’ Evie reminded herself. ‘Don’t panic.’ The wands, the wings, and the Magic Mirror had left her trembling. She wanted out of this place.

Ben’s long legs helped him overtake her on the stairs so they climbed side by side. “So what do we do? Leave through the main entrance?”

“Yeah.” She gulped. “Unless you brought that map with you?”

“I—uh—” Ben, new to this, hadn’t thought to take the record or make a copy. His shoulders drooped. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You found the Mirror,” Evie whispered gently. “I couldn’t have gotten this far without you.”

“This far isn’t far enough. Let’s go all the way,” he insisted before silently climbing the remaining stairs to the top.

Evie pressed her lips together to fight the smile at his unintentional innuendo. Doug would occasionally make a similar mistake, and it was a coin toss if he’d catch it or not. The innocent, perhaps even naive, quality of so many Auradon boys drove Evie mad with how endearing it made them.

They crowded together to place their ears against where the door met the wall. Metal doors, to Evie’s experience, never carried sound half as well as wooden doors. The only way was forward, so they opened the door wide enough for their shoulders then crawled onto the glossy floors of the museum proper.

In low power mode, the overhead lighting from the sky-high ceiling softly lit their silhouettes in muted white light. Evie, crouching, turned her head in every direction a guard could appear. That’s when she heard the footsteps tapping. Before she could figure out if they were coming closer or passing by, or even which direction they were coming from, Ben gently grasped the crook of her arm and pulled her along into the nearest exhibit.

They scrambled behind a brightly lit display of tiny artifacts and waited as the footsteps came closer.

A walkie-talkie blipped to life. “Where’s Mike? He’s taking over the front for me. Over,” a man’s voice said over the gravelly static.

They head the nearby guard mumble back, “Check the breakroom. Over.”

Evie’s eyes lit up at their opportunity. Ben must have recognized it too, because he then leaned into Evie’s side and whispered so close to her ear that his breath warmed her skin.

“I think I know the way out from here.”

He took her hand and stood. She followed suit but lagged behind when he tried walking forward. Her eye had been caught by the glittering trinkets in the case, full of things she’d only ever heard of.

Her mother’s golden necklace with the single, bright ruby stared into her. She wanted to reach in and steal back that necklace, then return it to her mother who missed it. Next to it, she found another necklace of gold with inset rubies which could cover a woman’s entire collarbone. This one belonged to her mother too. Then there was her personal seal. Beside those, Evie saw a golden scarab and a writing set with golden cobra designs. Farther down, there was Ursula’s seal, empty ink pot, and a fish bone quill.

Evie touched her cheek and realized which exhibit they’d hidden in.

“Evie, let’s go,” Ben implored her while carefully squeezing her hand

She hummed and nodded in understanding. Luckily, Ben knew the way while she couldn’t stop seeing her mother’s things on display as if they hadn’t been stolen. That’s what Evie had been told her whole life, that their castle was ransacked and all valuable things within it stolen by Auradon. Her mother’s whinging had little effect on a daughter who only wanted to know what they’d have for breakfast, if anything.

But now, with her stomach full, she wondered.

Ben continued leading a stiff, distracted Evie through the wax displays of her neighbors, her friends’ parents, and her mother as she kept her head down to not see them.

Stopping to press themselves against a wall, Ben peeked around a corner then turned back to her with a big grin. It disappeared when he noticed her blank stare back. Still, they had no time to spare. Lips pressed together determinedly, the young king led her into the empty lobby, out one set of glass doors, through another, and into gloriously cool, crisp night air.

She came surging back into the present and skipped the white stone steps two at a time. Their hands remained clasped together as they hit the gravel driveway and beelined through the grass to the tree line. Their hands finally slipped apart as they leapt over shrubbery and pushed branches aside to disappear into the brush.

Finally in a dark clearing, they paused to catch their breath before catching each other’s eye and grinning victoriously.

“We did it!” Ben rasped between gradually slower breaths.

“Oh my gosh. We did.” Pushing her hood back, Evie ran her fingers comfortingly through her long hair. “You didn’t do half-bad being a VK.”

“Hey, my mom says I’ve got some beast in me,” he joked, beaming at the compliment.

“Well,” she said, tossing her hair back and pulling the hood up, “let’s stop celebrating until we’re safe in bed. There’s still technically opportunity for us to get caught.”

Then a thought occurred to her that she couldn’t believe she’d not considered before. “You’re the king. How will you get back into your room without getting caught? There must be guards everywhere.”

He grinned like this major conundrum was not even hiccup. “I already know how to sneak into my room. You forget who I’m dating.”

Evie blinked at him.

Ben paused, confused.

Then he gave a start, eyes widening. “Oh no! It’s nothing like that! I asked her the other day when we were strolling the castle gardens what she thought a good way to get in and out of my room might be.”

Evie smirked to herself. “And how did Mal react to that?”

“Uhh she reacted positively? She asked why, and I said I’d explain later.”

She couldn’t help it. Evie giggled into her gloved palm. Mal had surely misinterpreted Ben’s question the same way she had initially. The blue-haired girl wondered when Mal would get it through her head that Ben was too chivalrous and pure to get up to anything premaritally.

Going from giggling to sighing, Evie happily declared, “Let’s head out and call this mission to a close.”

Ben gave a bear-like yawn of agreement, and they disappeared into the night.

The first thing Evie noticed upon waking was not the good morning text from her boyfriend but the note slipped under her door. Her fingers admiringly traced the glossy blue embossing and golden rose seal before opening.

Good morning,

Let’s have breakfast in my office and plan what we’re going to do about asking the Evil Queen about the horns. It’s an all-knowing mirror, so she must have the answers we need. I also remember Mal saying you liked English breakfast tea, so I asked Mrs. Potts to fix the very best. If anyone asks, we’re working on a group project, which is technically true.

See you soon,

Ben

PS. I hope it wasn’t weird I left a letter. I was so worked-up from last night that I barely slept. Also, I don’t have your number. Maybe we should fix that.

Evie was torn between smiling at his sweetness and frowning at his eagerness to continue. She’d only asked for his help getting to the Magic Mirror, and that was as far as she would accept his help. Breakfast by Mrs. Potts, on the other hand, she’d be ill-advised to miss.

With an impatient stomach, she readied for the day as quickly as a girl with a five step skincare routine could (cotillion was around the corner, so she couldn’t slack). Then she was securing a floppy brimmed hat to her head, checked her side profile for any sign of her horns, and headed out the door. A quick glance at her phone revealed it was only minutes until seven, but she could have guessed as much when she passed some familiar faces in the quad between the dorms and administrative building.

“You two look bright and awake,” Evie teased as she crossed paths with Jay and Carlos, dressed in their R.O.A.R. gear.

“Yo,” Jay greeted through a yawn that squeezed his eyes shut.

Carlos blinked sleepily at Evie. “Hey. What are you doing up?”

Evie suddenly felt awkward and guilty that she’d had a whole adventure but couldn’t tell them about it. “Oh, you know, I’ve got a group project to work on. There’s just so little time these days for everything. How’s the dress going?”

His eyes opened as if he’d just taken a straight shot of espresso. Holding up a finger, Carlos said, “Put a pin in that. Let’s talk about it later.”

She grimaced. “That bad?”

“No,” Carlos said while shaking his head and getting a far away look. “I…just…made some changes.”

“Oh! Well, I bet Mal will love them,” Evie encouraged him.

“Yyyeeaah.” Carlos dropped his hand. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“You should take a break from the sewing machine and come watch practice,” Jay said while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Mal was there the other day.”

“Really?” Evie had a hard time seeing Mal enjoying the sidelines. “Maybe I will. It’s only so long until graduation.”

“Don’t remind me,” Carlos grumbled, as he’d enrolled in a university which would take him far from his friends. The only other person they knew to be going to the same university was Chad, and that was sole intention to play tourney.

“Well don’t be late,” Evie reminded them before the trio all said their “laters” and parted ways. Her mood felt significantly happier after the run-in with her friends. When she smelled the breakfast awaiting her before even opening the door to Ben’s office, Evie felt like everything was perfectly all right, despite the horns.

Ben sat up from the couch he’d been reclining on with a textbook on his lap. “Hey! Morning!”

Evie said the same back, but her eyes were on the silver platters spread across the oak coffee table. Dishes of butter, raspberry jam, and honey accompanied a basket of mini baguettes. Hot sausages, cooked to splitting, sizzled on a silver platter beside a glass pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice and larger pitcher of water. Grilled tomatoes and fried mushrooms shared their own silver platter.

“Mrs. Potts is from Magical London, and she said this is what their typical breakfast looks like, sort of,” Ben explained, even though Evie needed no reason or excuse for a filling breakfast. “With the exception of the baguettes and the pain au chocolat. My mom raised me on having those for breakfast every morning with hot chocolate.”

Evie set her structured tote on the ground and settled onto the thickly stuffed velvet couch across from him. “You really know how to treat a girl!”

She felt more than a little bad that she’d be telling him this was where their partnership ended.

Ben took to pouring her a cup of tea. “Sugar? Milk?” When she said just a splash, he did so and set the cup in front of her while she loaded a plate with one of everything. She observed he’d set out a binder, pens, and a textbook to further suggest this was a study session.

‘A little smarter than you let on.’ Evie didn’t think Ben was dumb, but she did think he could be unintentionally misleading.

“So.” Ben set his hands on his lap as he gathered his thoughts. “Why does everything in magic have to rhyme?”

“I, um, don’t know. I just copied my mom.” Carefully slicing her food, she loaded her fork with tomato and sausage. She hadn’t eaten since dinner, and the idea of ladylike proportions was briefly forgotten.

“There are a few other things I wanted to talk about, from last night.” He topped off his tea and stirred it in longer than necessary. “It wasn’t just your hands that were glowing. So were your horns. Have you used magic before? I understand the Evil Queen is a witch or enchantress.”

Evie broke apart her tiny baguette to dip in the butter she’d spooned onto her plate. “No, I don’t use magic like Mal does. These horns are caused by magic, so it makes sense if they’re the source behind what happened last night, when I summoned the spirit of the Mirror.”

Ben relaxed against the couch’s back without spilling a drop of tea. “What about what happened in the Villains Gallery?” He watched her carefully. “You seemed upset.”

“Did I?” Evie tucked her hair behind an ear. She hadn’t thought she’d been so obvious. But now, here it was, out in the open. She chewed a piece of bread, letting the thick crust be slowly torn apart while she decided how to approach this.

She swallowed. “I don’t like the Villains Gallery. I know to you, she’s the Evil Queen who tried to kill Snow White. But to me, she’s—”

Her only human company for ten years in the Castle Across the Way.

Her source of reassurance when Evie would cry that they’d waste away and die on the Isle.

The woman who threw such a grand celebration for her little girl’s sixth birthday that everyone on the Isle still talked about it.

“—she’s my mother.”

Ben leaned forward, forearms on his knees as he thought about it. “I guess I wouldn’t like it either if someone made a wax figure of my dad as the Beast, when he was at his worst, and put it in a museum to gawk at.”

Evie looked up at him. Yes, there was the statue in front of Auradon that would change from human to beast. But that she didn’t have to explain to him the difference in context, in presentation, made her grateful.

She wished this coffee table wasn’t separating them. “As long as everyone is looking at the villains that way, the way they used to be, then no more VKs are leaving the Isle of the Lost. Trust me, Ben, my mother and so many other villains aren’t what they were twenty-two years ago.” She leaned forward. “This prejudice is still being extended to the kids. The Villains Gallery needs to close.”

Ben sipped his tea, and Evie knew he was thinking this over. Finally, he nodded, saying, “I’ll bring this up at the next Royal Council meeting. But right now, there’s a more pressing matter at hand.”

He downed his cup and set it aside. “I couldn’t really sleep last night, so I looked into what it would take to set-up a video call with your mother.” He winced. “It’d be after cotillion.”

Only by her practiced grace did Evie not upend the plate on her lap. “That’s too long!”

“I know.” Wetting his lips, he explained, “It’s a matter of getting guards to accompany an envoy to speak with the Evil Queen and setting up a wifi connection, and that has to be guarded the entire time from set-up to take-down.”

Evie hummed and nodded. “People from the Isle would steal those parts in a heartbeat.”

“And on top of that, the Fairy Godmother would need to use the wand to allow the signal through the barrier.”

And like that, Evie knew a video call would not be possible. A request that would take up this much time and resources, after she’d already turned down the offer earlier that year, would put an unwanted spotlight on her.

“I’ll—” She forced the words “—I’ll have to go back to the Isle to speak with her.”

Her plate clinked against the platters as she shoved it on the table and downed her tea. Ben was right; it really was the best. After she’d slurped down the dredges, he held out his hand to accept the cup back, refilled it with a splash of milk, and returned it to her ready hands.

Evie sipped and thought. ‘It’s just a quick visit. I won’t even be there an hour. I know the quickest way from the bridge to my mom’s house. I won’t be stuck there. It’ll be fine.’

“Yeah,” Ben finally said after a moment of silence had passed between them. With a strange casualness, he refilled his own teacup. “We’ll just have to go to the Isle.”

Her teacup met the table. “No, Ben. You’ll be in too much danger on the Isle.”

He waved a hand. “But you just said the villains aren’t what they used to be.”

“You’d still make a royal ransom,” Evie said, unable to believe they were really having this conversation. “I’ll go alone.”

Ben scooted to the edge of the couch as he insisted, “But how do you know that isn’t dangerous?!”

“I’m ready for danger,” she stated, assured.

“With hair oil and tweezers?!” At her warning glare, Ben held up his hands in defeat. “Okay, I’m sorry. I just got really worried. I am really worried. How about you give me a few days, and I’ll be ready to go.”

“We’re not going,” Evie reiterated, desperate to convince him to not want to come. “There are lots of bad things on the Isle! There are pickpockets, and no one smiles. There’s a lion, a tiger, and the whole Isle is surrounded by flesh-eating eels. And—um—there are men with sharp teeth!”

She kicked herself for paying perhaps too much attention in Mother Gothel’s class.

Ben squinted, confused. “Wait, why do the men have sharp teeth?”

“Because there isn’t any dental care on the Isle,” she said flippantly, already regretting saying it.

“I’m not going to be scared of people who need dental care. Maybe I should bring that up too in the next Royal Council—”

“Focus. My point is you’re not going to the Isle.”

Ben stalled. “Buuuut—” An idea, the caveat, gave way to a sneaky smile “— how else will you get the royal limousine with the exclusive, one-of-a-kind barrier clicker?” He shrugged, looking far too proud of himself. “Sounds like you need the hook-up.”

A tight smile pulled at her lips. ‘Damn,’ she thought, ‘He’s got me there.’

“We’ll go next week, on Friday.” She gazed levelly into his eyes, and Ben had the good sense to stop smiling. “And then you see the Isle up close and personal.”

Chapter Text

Carlos never needed a reason to see Evie, but his sore fingers and tired eyes gave him two. He’d been clicking through hundreds, possibly thousands, of images in search of inspiration for his own cotillion look. He remembered countless times his mother watched the TV coverage of who’s-wearing-what for soirees and events only to comment on how utterly drab the men dressed. Deep in his stomach, Carlos felt the misguided hope to earn his mother’s approval with his cotillion attire.

He’d finished his red, three-quarter length trousers (cotillion was on a boat, so the touch of casual felt like the right way to break the rules). His button-up white shirt was off the rack, but Carlos tailored it, replaced the buttons, and starched it for added stiffness. The suit jacket, however, was driving him mad. It would be the statement piece, and he had no idea how to elevate it.

There were so many reasons to visit his best and most fashion-minded friend.

“Hey.” He knocked on her door. “It’s me.”

The lock clicked, and the door opened wide to show an Evie whose blue hat with a big, floppy brim framed her brightly smiling visage. “Hey! Come on in.”

Stepping in, Carlos heard the door shut behind him as he stared at the boating hats, bowler caps, straw hats, and panama hats, just to name a few. There were hats stacked on her dresser, hanging from her vanity, and organized over a coat rack. She’d become a verified milliner.

Carlos didn’t know where to begin with his questions on that, so he went with, “Does all this work mean your migraines are better?”

“For now. They’re less frequent lately.” Evie swept back to her work station and pulled up a beautiful periwinkle dress to show him. “Look at how Jane’s dress is coming along.”

Carlos hummed positively yet unconvincingly. He’d stopped seeking out Jane to talk or attempt asking her out. A sad part of him doubted she even noticed, though she’d certainly not missed it several school days ago. He’d been grabbing books from his locker when he heard Mal’s agitated heel clicks followed by Jane’s pestering questions about what sort of tie clips should be included in the end-of-evening cotillion gift bags for the boys.

When Mal reached him, she’d only needed to meet his eye for him to know his cue.

Jane, seeing him, held up her pen as if to ask a question. “Carlos—!”

His locker slammed shut. “Later, Jane.”

In a moment of solidarity, he’d set his arm around Mal’s neck as if shielding her from anymore questions about this stupid cotillion. Her hand grabbed his closest shoulder, and they marched off together, side by side. Glancing down, he saw her pout morph into a smirk that adorably scrunched her nose.

‘We were really missing out not being best friends sooner.’

“It looks great,” he told Evie in a tone that would fool most people, not including her.

“I overheard Jane talking in the hall earlier,” she began, her dark brows scrunched together. “She mentioned you two made up. Was there a fight?”

Anger bubbled in him as he wondered why Jane had to share her business with other people, but he knew why. Jane was shy and insecure, yet he stood by his opinion that she didn’t need to be. He’d once mentally compared her to a King Charles Spaniel, a sweet creature with big eyes that searched faces for approval, eager to make them happy. He ruminated if only that same sweetness didn’t make her yearn so loudly for reassurance when things went badly.

Pityingly, Carlos realized Jane might not have a singular best friend to confide in; hence, she took her life story to everyone.

“Yeah, but, y’know, I can’t stay angry at her,” Carlos tried playing it casual while wandering Evie’s room. He spied her open sketchbook on the bed and tilted his head at Jane’s cotillion attire in colored pencil. “Why is the bow sideways?”

“Jane wants it that way, to do something different.” Evie returned the fabric to her work station then turned the chair around so she could sit and happily observe her friend.

“So you said you made some changes to Mal’s dress?” she asked, curious.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I just got really…inspired,” Carlos explained, now perusing the men’s hats displayed on dummy heads by a curtain covered window. “I might’ve lost my mind for a second, but I’ve been working on it for hours every day after school. Mal’s into the changes. I think I was in her room until almost midnight on Thursday.”

He could feel Evie’s inquisitive stare. She could do that all she liked, he decided. Meanwhile, he sought out some sort of inspiration from her handiwork.

“And?” Evie said as if he’d stopped on the verge to revealing the twist ending of a story or a punch line. Legs crossed, she set her hands on her top knee and leaned forward.

“And?” Carlos echoed with a shrug as he came upon her bolts of fabric, stacked and color coded.

“Was Mal there?”

His fingers hovered over blue lace. Evie knew.

The memory sharpened his next words. “Yeah, sobbing and about to run away—”

Evie leapt to her feet with a gasp. “She was going to what?! Carlos, what happened?”

He looked at her with the distinct feeling she knew everything — and yet.

“How do you know about the fight?” he gambled to ask.

“Ben told me.” Evie frowned. “I’ve known about the spellbook, and I’ve been trying to get her to give it up.”

Carlos barely managed to turn his scoff into a cough to clear his throat. He returned to wandering the room, now in a restless manner, as he said, “I don’t see why she should. A blonde hair spell saves her from chemicals and upkeep. And the speed reading spell? Since when was reading a book fast literally a crime?”

Evie’s mouth hung open before finding the words. “No one is saying it’s a crime.” 

He stopped and looked at her. “Then why did Ben yell at her like it was?”

Her arms crossed as she observed him like he was a puzzle, and Carlos realized he shouldn’t give her anymore pieces to figure him out. Moreso, he realized he might have something to hide.

‘Nothing happened.’ Carlos wrote off that moment of nearly kissing Mal as a natural urge without real substance. She’d been beautiful and in his space. Anyone would have thought about kissing her.

“Did she tell you about trying to erase his memory?” Evie said, sounding so even and logical that arguing with her seemed daunting.

But this was about Mal, who’d cried herself into hysterics minutes after that.

“She did,” he said, teeth nearly gritting. “And he reacted like he wasn’t the guy who laughed when he said he knew about the love spell cookies.”

‘Chill, man,’ Carlos heard Jay’s words in his mind. Heavily exhaling and straightening up, he added, “But it’s all right. I talked her down, and she’ll probably make up with Ben.”

“Yeah.” Her soft voice held no conviction.

Feeling agitated and ready to return to work, Carlos grabbed a gold chain and a couple of gold appliqués from an open chest of materials. “Can I have these?”

Her head nodded sideways as she came over for a better look at the materials. “For what?”

“I’m working on my suit jacket for cotillion, but uhh I don’t know what exactly to do to make it really special.” He looked down at his fingers running over the chain’s gold links.

Evie smiled gently. “Are you worried about being judged by your mother?” When he barely nodded, she continued, “You will never know her opinion, because you are never going back to the Isle.”

Smiling widely, she took the chain from his hands and held it up first to an imaginary lapel, then his right shoulder, then the left. “Black, white, and gold detailing. I like it.” She grabbed a sharpened pencil and one of her sketchpads to hand to him. “Show me what you’re thinking.”

Carlos rolled the pencil between his fingers as he thoughtfully considered the blank page. “I’m not good at drawing, but I was thinking something like—” He began roughly sketching a simple suit jacket outline. “And I want alternating color blocking of black and white, but I don’t want to do anything too obvious.”

Her lips pursed thoughtfully. “Well, what’s the rest of your outfit?” Upon hearing it described, she declared, “Make it a cropped jacket. It’ll really suit your three-quarter trousers if your jacket is short too.”

She grabbed another pencil, and they spent a very happy hour imagining different color blocking patterns, fabrics (Carlos loved her idea of the black being specifically faux leather), and gold appliqué placements.

“It’s really nice having a friend who’s into making fashion,” Evie warmly said while measuring and pinning the fabric she planned to cut for his jacket. “I love talking to him about the business side of the boutique, but Doug doesn’t really get fashion.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Carlos sardonically quipped, earning a playfully disapproving shake of the head from Evie.

When a knock tip-tapped on her door, Carlos looked from the door to her. “It’s Doug. He heard me trashing his style and wants to fight.”

Before Evie could do more than smile as she held in a laugh, the person on the other side of the door called out, “It’s Doug! Are you there?” Then more like a loud whisper, he added, “Or awake?”

Carlos ducked his head to laugh, and Evie playfully shook her head at him. “What has gotten into you lately?” she quietly said through giggles on her way to answer the door. Both she and Carlos were still all smiles as she opened the door, revealing her loyal boyfriend.

“Hey! Wow, you look like you’re doing better!” Doug said, bright and smiling the moment he saw her. “Are you free? Because I was thinking you could use some time not working or recovering from a migraine and we could grab some froyo?”

“Doug, I’m so sorry, but—” she moved aside so he could see Carlos, who grinned to himself and cut out a measured strip of black faux leather “—I’m helping Carlos with his cotillion jacket, and it feels like forever since he and I just hung out.”

A corner of his mouth pulled back in a frown. “Yeah, but I was just hoping maybe after you guys are done, maybe we could—?”

“Don’t rush fashion,” Carlos cut in, although part of him argued he should encourage Evie to hang out with her boyfriend, to insist he could do the rest of the suit jacket on his own. Yet the very idea of a close friend of his reconciling and running off with their boyfriend left him restless and selfish.

He could be good. He could be bad.

‘Why is grey only allowed in fashion?’

“I’m sorry, Doug,” Evie said, voice strained with a grimace. “But I told Carlos I’d help him finish it.” She’d made no such promise. “And I really owe him for helping with Mal’s dress.” She had no idea by how much. “I’ll text you later.”

Doug’s whole expression fell, his big eyes drooping. “I don’t want to be a pest or bother you, it’s just you don’t really reply to my texts.”

“She’s got a life,” Carlos heard himself say as his scissors sliced through the fabric.

Both of her hands on the door’s edge, Evie eased it shut while cringing and whispering, “I’m sorry, I’ll call you later. I promise.”

The door clicked shut, and she turned around to set her inquisitive eyes on Carlos, who beat her to speaking first. “Did you and Doug have a fight?”

She blinked, as if wondering the same for a moment. “What? No. Um, I’ve just been busy. I’m dealing with a lot right now.” Evie spoke distantly, her fingers playing with the brim of her hat.

Returning to the present, she asked, “What about you? I thought you were just joking about fighting Doug.”

“I’m not that mean,” he amusedly told her.

“I’m not so sure,” she joked, smiling despite herself as she rejoined him at the fabric table to continue measuring out and pinning fabric for cutting. “You seem like you’re having a lot of fun.”

He smirked to himself and sliced another fabric strip free. “Fashion should be fun.”

Reconciling was not fun. The very thought of doing so with Ben filled Mal with inhibition, locking her body into place. That was just as well, because she’d positioned herself exactly where she needed to be. The King of Auradon was already striding down the long blue runner spanning the airy castle hallway, flanked by gleaming suits of armor. Banners, each representing the kingdoms united under his rule, hung overhead. The light spilling from the tall windows transformed his crown into a halo before her eyes.

‘I’m not good enough for you,’ Mal thought miserably. But, she was deeply selfish and had already spent the morning concocting how she’d safety pin this situation. She wouldn’t let the most perfect boy in the entire world slip between her fingers.

With that sin, she waited for him to get close enough before saying, “Can we talk?”

He stopped feet from her with emotion welling in his eyes, but she didn’t wait for his permission. “I’m sorry. For everything. Can we just—” she struggled with the words “—work on it?”

Her plea was vague yet placating, just as she meant for it to be.

Spoken softly, his words hit her like a gut punch. “That’s all I’d wanted.”

From there, they’d entered the Council Meeting together with faked smiles and her hand on his arm. Lunch preceded talks of royal matters, and food never hurt hearts yet to heal.

Mal sat at her boyfriend’s right elbow, a seat of power. As the future queen, she was a trusted advisor to the King among the other council members. She listened to Cogsworth discuss the crop yields from the Charming’s kingdom (‘Snore.’), and Ben had thoughts on how they could share a portion of their harvest with Camelot. To Mal’s interest, the nearly ancient kingdom had lost a quarter of its harvest to dragon attacks. Phoebus went on to suggest assembling the Knights of the Round Table and sending the Good Fairies to assist them.

Mal sipped her tea to avoid making a face. ‘Of course, because they’ve dealt with dragons before. Everyone knows Prince Phillip would’ve been fucked without the Good Fairies.’

“Don’t see why we haven’t gotten rid of all the dragons yet,” Grumpy grumbled. “All they do is show up and destroy whatever they get their claws into.”

“And before long, that could be the small folk of Camelot,” Phoebus, ever the noble knight, reasoned.

“I could send in my boy Herc and those dragons would be medieval history,” Phil bragged.

Ben weighed his thoughts before evenly responding, “Dragons have a right to their lives too. They’re intelligent creatures. Perhaps we need to send an ambassador and begin a line of communication with them.”

Mal licked the tea lingering on her top lip. “You can’t reason with dragons.”

‘All they see is red.’ She would know from her own dreams, where she spoke not in words but rage.

Grumpy nodded in her direction. “I’m with her.”

Ben stared down at his meeting notes, and Mal knew he’d probably wanted her to be on his side. So the solution was easy: make them be on the same side by bringing him to hers.

Mal leaned on the arm of her chair to make her that much closer to him without being indecent in front of the Royal Council. “Ask a dragon what it wants, and it’ll say blood. It’s in their nature. What are we supposed to do? Sacrifice sheep to them so they don’t destroy the crops? They’ll ask for twenty sheep one year and forty the next.” She waved a careless hand, as if this was a simple matter. “We have a duty to protect Camelot, not its enemies.”

He stared at his meeting notes as he visibly considered her argument. When he looked at her, Mal nodded encouragingly. He mirrored it back at her.

“We’ll send the Good Fairies to assist the Knights of the Round Table,” Ben declared decisively to the table.

Mal relaxed back in her seat as the topic turned to another problem somewhere else in the kingdom. She couldn’t hear them over the sound of her own racing heart. No one knew about her continuing nightmares of her skin hardening into gleaming purple scales as her green eyes lit like hellfire. In her dream, she attacked the very castle she sat in.

‘Dreams aren’t real,’ she told herself not for the first time. Mal tried focusing on the new topic, but her thoughts instead stuck to brown eyes so dark she could see herself in them.

Carlos had looked nearly ready to kiss her the other day. His back to the door, he’d looked at different points on her face but always went back to her lips. The building energy was palpable, threatening to break the moment he might take her in his arms — and she didn’t know what to think about that. His visible interest definitely wasn’t unflattering; he was a good-looking guy now, and she meant what she’d told him about being a genius and a fighter. Maybe that last one was deep down, but she’d seen glimpses of it lately. She would admit that perhaps she did put them in the perfect position for a kiss to happen, but she didn’t know what she would’ve done if he’d gone through with it.

‘Probably kiss him back if I didn’t immediately hate it,’ she conceded, her fingertip tracing the teacup’s rim. ‘I mean, it’d probably be his first kiss. I’d have to do it properly, but only because he’s a good friend.’

Mrs. Potts, who attended the Council Meeting luncheon to provide said lunch, noticed Mal’s attention to her empty cup and appeared at her side with a fresh pot of hot black rose tea. The younger woman retracted her hand as the cup refilled, and she gave a quick thanks flourished with a smile. She sipped the fresh tea not out of politeness. Though not generally a tea person, she did like this blend. It’s why Ben asked Mrs. Potts to serve it.

The topic turned to revisiting regulations on parrots in Northern Wei, who’d issued complaints to the sultan of Agrabah for months.

Cogsworth tutted. “The gravest offenses by these birds has been making their homes within Northern Wei family shrines and shrieking sarcastic comments when people come to pray to their ancestors.”

Mal pursed her lips as if perturbed, but in actuality, it was to keep from grinning at the idea of all the shrines smeared in bird poop. She surreptitiously looked at Ben from under her long eyelashes as he listened to Cogsworth speak on the rampant overpopulation caused by parrot breeders. Ben’s blue eyes really did darken beautifully when he became serious, and she liked his frown when it wasn’t aimed at her.

Picking at the crusts of the ham and camembert baguette, the remnants of a lunch she barely ate, Mal wondered how she could ever look at another person when Ben was right there.

Her interest in Carlos had to be from wanting to play the field, Mal figured. Getting serious with her first boyfriend kept her from trying other boys, girls, and whoever in-between she wanted. The idea that she wanted to look at someone else when perfect Ben was right there, loving her, left Mal ashamed.

But not enough to keep her from remembering how Carlos had the biggest smile.

‘Ugh, not that I like smiles or anything.’

She had enjoyed his good-naturedly annoyed smile several days ago, when the Core Four met up for lunch. They stood in the cafeteria queue and waited to get trays when she heard him tell a passing girl that he liked her brooch, attached to her hat. The girl happily shared that it was a family heirloom before going off with a visibly peppier step. Mal had been ready to ignore that interaction before remembering what he’d told her before.

Standing behind him, she’d curled her hands over his shoulder and whispered, “Tell me three things.”

That’s when he’d smiled, annoyed yet amused, and just for her as he kept three, awful thoughts about that girl’s outfit to himself.

“That’s not how you help me be a better person,” he said, his tone as if she’d told a joke.

The corners of her lips had pulled back in a sly smile. “Maybe I want you to be wicked.”

For now, she put thoughts of Carlos aside. He was just a really good friend and, at the current moment, her closest friend. He understood her, and he proved he wasn’t going to risk anything for a quick, curiosity-fueled kiss. Mal told herself neither would she, because she had Ben.

Her friend did have the prettiest brown eyes, though.

“There are several things I want to discuss regarding the Museum of Cultural History,” Ben declared, looking at everyone.

The other members of the Royal Council looked down at their meeting notes, where no plans for such a discussion were mentioned.

Ben took their momentary confusion as his chance to continue. “Museum records show what we have, but there are no details about the state of each item. If we’re going to have them, then we need to take care of them. I want a detailed damage report for anything in less than perfect condition.”

His index and middle fingers pointedly struck the table like a gavel. “And if anything is broken, I want to know why.”

Mal found she was far from the only person surprised and staring at Ben for his sudden passion on the subject. She observed the other council members tilting their heads, touching their chins, or rubbing their beards to ascertain their true thoughts on the matter.

Cogsworth in particular was pulling at his snug white collar. “A very, uh, reasonable request, sire.” His voice jumped an octave. “For what reason, may I ask?”

“To be a responsible steward of Auradon’s history. I need this report in the next few days,” Ben decisively answered before taking a breath and moving on. “And this leads into my next point: after careful consideration, I want to close the Villains Gallery.”

The reactions were varied yet synonymous. Grumpy shouted, “Absolutely not!” while Phil exclaimed, “Are you out of your mind?!” Phoebus evenly declared it ill-advised. Cogsworth sputtered, and the usually the usually quiet Genie shook his head.

Mal didn’t like looking at the Genie, who’d forsaken his magical form for a human-like appearance with terra cotta-colored skin just barely tinged blue at his joints. She’d heard he was once a wise-cracking showman when he’d been magical. Just being reminded of his presence made her lose appetite even for tea. Mal angled herself toward Ben so he wasn’t in her periphery.

Despite the reaction, Ben persisted. “To keep the VK program alive, we need to stop inspiring fear of them and respect that these people are their families and neighbors.”

Phoebus scowled. “Who’d tried killing our families and neighbors. That gallery is a reminder of what we overcame for the Auradon of today to be possible.”

Ben squared his shoulders against the pushback. “That may be how it started, but now it’s becoming a tool for keeping Auradon in the past.” He held open his arms imploringly. “And we can’t create a future for everyone, including the people of the Isle, if we don’t move on.”

“Villains don’t get futures, kid,” Phil chastised him. “They get just desserts.”

Grumpy, arms crossed, growled deep in his throat before his eyes rolled toward Mal. She sat straight with hands in her lap, but remaining still didn’t hide her from sight.

The dwarf jabbed a thumb in her direction. “Is that how you feel, blondie?”

“It’s Mal,” Ben sternly corrected him.

Grumpy went on as if he’d not been interrupted. “You want us to take down the Villains Gallery so people don’t have to think about your mother trying to kill everyone at the coronation?”

Mal gulped. “I—” She didn’t know how she felt about it, but more importantly, she didn’t know the right answer. “I’m not asking anyone to forget what she did.”

Every eye was on her.

“I didn’t ask for anything,” she said defensively. “And I’ve made it clear I stand by whatever is in the best interest of Auradon.”

Grumpy clapped his hands together once and declared, “So let’s put a vote to it! Everyone in favor of national security over feelings, raise your hand!”

Every hand except Ben and Mal’s raised, with only Genie muttering, “Sorry, Ben.”

Grumpy ‘hmfed’ satisfactorily and began, “And all opposed?”

One hand firmly went up. Two hands remained firmly in her lap, clutching the sides of her dress. She didn’t need to look. She could feel Ben’s eyes on her face.

“I have a migraine.” Mal stood up, her chair screeching back across the hardwood. She kept her head down and avoided their faces as she squeezed out from behind her chair. Her feet couldn’t carry her fast enough to the door and out into the airy, too hot hallway. Mal walked unseeingly forward with no destination in mind, not even stopping when she heard her name called.

Ben’s heavy footsteps caught up to her, and he stepped into her path to get her attention. “Mal, what happened?” he asked, exasperated.

“What happened?” she echoed, her voice jumping as she nervously laughed. “Why would you put me on the spot like that?”

“I—” Ben choked on his next words.

“Yeah, Ben!” Mal realized her arms shook. “I can’t just say whatever I want. I’m constantly having to climb out of the hole of being my mother’s daughter. Did you forget I had the wand?”

“But you didn’t do anything with it,” Ben asserted.

Mal shook her head, desperate to make him understand. “Because you were there to talk me down. What if you weren’t there? That’s the question everyone in there is asking about me!”

She stepped around him. When he touched her arm, she shook him off.

“Mal, I’m sorry,” he softly called after her.

Her heart contorted. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me.”

She walked away without looking back, and the space between them stretched beyond what they knew.

Jay thought fencing practice was the best way to celebrate Carlos finishing his suit jacket for the cotillion. Seeing the white and black color blocking under the pop of the gold appliqués did make the younger teen feel confident and consequently dumb enough to agree. His arms would later disagree after repeatedly parrying, feinting, and guarding. However confident he felt in his growing abilities, Carlos doubted Jay when the latter insisted he’d nearly bested him each round.

“You’re definitely second best on the team,” Jay continued to build up his best friend, who frowned while putting the practice swords back into the turret room’s deep storage closet.

“Maybe I’d be third if we let Lonnie on,” he remarked, shutting the metal door. Not locking it with a padlock made him uncomfortable. Crime may have been obsolete in Auradon, but evil could come from anywhere. Carlos wondered if he was too jaded or if Auradon was too naive.

“Yeeaah,” Jay drawled, stretching his bicep by grabbing his elbow and pressing the inside near his opposite shoulder. “Lonnie and I talked about it, and I think we figured it out: we could get around the rule by making her captain. She did beat me, so that qualifies her.”

Carlos slowly turned to face Jay with a disbelieving face. “Are you serious?”

The taller boy grinned. “Rulebook never specified the captain had to be a man.”

“That’s—” Carlos blinked several times “—so stupid.”

He ran a hand over his face while Jay looked insulted, saying “Hey, it gets Lonnie on the team and doesn’t break the rules.”

“The rules are what’s wrong!” Carlos heard him say, his voice jumping higher. “We shouldn’t be getting around the rules! We should be breaking them and making better ones! What if another girl wants to join the team? There can only be one captain, so that means there can only be one girl on the team and she has to be the best!”

Carlos’ voice reverberated in the large, empty room. “That’s not fair!”

Jay crossed his arms and scoffed as he briefly looked away from Carlos. “I know sports don’t mean anything to you, but Tourney and R.O.A.R. mean everything to me. Don’t you think I’m smart enough to know it sucks girls can’t be on the team?”

The ex-thief’s feet shifted, agitated, as he pressed his fingers into his own chest. “But if I try changing the way things have always been, I could lose being captain—” he held up one finger “—I could lose my spot on the team—” another finger “—and I could lose where I belong.” He held up three fingers to Carlos’ face. “So don’t call me stupid!”

The other boy’s fire for argument dimmed. “Sorry,” he said, frowning at the ground before leaning against the mahogany paneled wall. “I know there’s a lot at risk when you try to change things, but it just—” he bit his lip and shook his head “—seemed worth it.”

Carlos crossed his arms as his stomach turned, upset. ‘People in Auradon won’t even change the rules for one of their own. It’s no wonder how we’ve all been on our best behavior and they still haven’t freed any other kids from the Isle.’

Despite not having been close to his old classmates at Dragon Hall, for the first time, he wondered what they ate for breakfast that morning.

He could only hazard to guess what Jay said next was to diffuse the tension. “Are you all worked up about this because you want to ask Lonnie to cotillion?”

He flinched, reopening his eyes wide at the preposterous question. “Where did that come from?”

“Oh, ‘cause I heard from Chad that Jane was freaking out to the cheer squad about how she thinks you’re avoiding her. So I figured you were probably looking for another date.”

“Fucking Chad,” he muttered under breath. Huffing frustratedly, Carlos said, “Why can’t people mind their own damn business?”

“Uhh—”

Both boys’ necks snapped toward the new voice and found Ben, hesitantly pausing in his tracks toward them.

“Bad time?” the young king asked with a nervous smile.

“Probably the perfect time, man. What’s up?” Jay said, his laidback tone working its quick magic to diffuse the tension.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been in here.” Ben awkwardly gestured to the small gymnasium used for team practice. “I’ve missed it.”

“It hasn’t changed,” Carlos grumbled.

Ben gave him a strange look but kept his voice light. “I never said it did. Ah, anyway, I wanted to talk to you guys about what it’s like on the Isle.”

The two VKs shared a look while waiting for the king to get specific.

“Like, uh, is it dangerous?” To their dramatically disbelieving looks at such an asinine question, Ben amended, “I mean, what’s the crime like?”

“The economy is crime,” Carlos explained, the muscles around his eyes tense as if Ben was already giving him a headache. “But it’s probably gone down by a lot since Jay and Mal left.”

Jay proudly crossed his arms in a manner that flexed his muscles. “I could steal five things before school, and that’s if I was running late.”

“So I guess that means you carried the economy,” Ben good-naturedly joked with Jay. “Okay, imagine you’re back on the Isle and walking down the sidewalk—”

“There are no sidewalks,” Carlos flatly interjected. “It’s just cement streets and alleys.”

“Okay, so when you’re walking down the street or alley,” Ben patiently began again, though he began to pace. “What kind of dangers do you have to look out for?”

“Your girlfriend, for starters,” Carlos said, crossing his arms in a manner that made his shoulders hunch.

Ben gave the shorter boy an odd look while Jay thoughtfully answered, “Keep an eye out for kids, because they’re pocket level and will snatch whatever you’ve got in there. Ignore any vendors trying to hawk at you, because they probably got someone in the shadows ready to pickpocket you. Oh and if you’re in a gang, then you keep out of a rival gang’s territory.”

His feet stopped pacing. “What happens if you’re caught?”

“Run, duh,” Carlos said, purposefully cutting ‘dumbass’ short.

“Or fight,” Jay said. “Throw some hands.”

“So is it mostly fist-fighting? Would that make someone safe if they brought a sword?”

“Only pirates use swords, but I’ve heard Cruella De Vil used to beat the shit—I mean,” Jay watched his language around Auradon citizens. “She could really use that cane.”

Ben threw a nervous look at Carlos, who sharply shook his head once without even meeting his eye. A volcanic anger erupted in his veins at the mere insinuation. He suddenly wanted to shove Ben and yell, ‘Why did you look at me? My mom is messed up and crazy, but she loves me! You wouldn’t get it.’

Before he could work like a slave in her fashion shop or do chores around the house, when she was pregnant with him, she’d gotten off the cigarettes and alcohol. There was a time she gave up her vices for him, and part of him always held onto that.

‘So don’t stand there and act like you know anything about my family!’

Carlos inhaled deeply, filling his chest. ‘Chill, man.’

“Did—Do people get killed a lot?” Ben asked, chin down as he nervously awaited the answer.

The question sent Carlos back to when he was much, much younger. ‘You stay in my closet so no one can hurt you or use you against me,’ his mother crooned to him once when he’d asked. Her voice took a threatening edge, ‘Because if they try, they’ll have to go through me first.’

“They used to,” the dual-haired boy distantly recalled. “When we were really little, and all of the villains and henchmen were still figuring out how to coexist on a little isle with really, really limited resources.”

Ben’s blue eyes stared horrified at Carlos before Jay’s hand heavily clapped down on his shoulder to literally shake him out of it. “Don’t worry, Your Kingliness. Now it’s just so boring on the Isle that crime is not just the economy, it’s also the entertainment.”

“Why are you asking so many questions?” Carlos suspiciously asked, looking directly at Ben.

His mouth opened and nearly closed before he could put together, “I just wanted to learn more about what problems are on the Isle so I can better understand how to help.”

Carlos recognized the lie, but Ben was being so obtuse that he couldn’t guess his real objective.

‘What’s the angle?’ his mother’s henchman, Horace, used to say.

Ben shifted his weight from foot to foot and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Hey so I’ve been thinking I should practice my fencing again so I don’t get rusty. Would you guys mind coming over to the castle?”

A grin lit up Jay’s face. “Hell—I mean—Heck yeah I wanna go up against the old team captain! Say when and I’ll be there.” He held up a hand, bent elbow down, to clasp with Ben’s before pulling him into a chest bump that left the young king briefly winded.

Smiling from Jay’s enthusiasm, Ben then looked at Carlos and visibly hesitated. “So, can I count you in?”

The shorter boy crossed his arms. “Count me out. I’ve got some projects I’m working on.”

“Cool. You’re totally welcome if you change your mind, though,” Ben said, waving his hands to emphasize his point. He began turning to leave when he pivoted on his heel. “Hey, on the Isle, are there actually men with sharp teeth?”

Their incredulous looks said enough.

“Dumb question. Never mind. Later!”

After the taller boy nearly jogged off, Jay looked at Carlos and shook his head. “Bring this kind of energy to fencing and you’ll win every match.”

Judging by Belle’s hospitality, Mal inferred Ben kept their recent spats to himself. It gave her some comfort that he didn’t share with the kingdom what a terrible girlfriend she’d been. Then on the other hand, she’d been a terrible VK by not backing the closing of the Villains Gallery. She didn’t like seeing wax figures of their parents posed threateningly among displays of their stolen possessions. On the other hand, she would clearly be putting herself in a precarious position if anyone on the Royal Council or the Fairy Godmother thought her to be a villain sympathizer.

Pretending to enjoy her gross apricot-flavored tea, Mal wondered why Ben couldn’t see his lack of power and influence within his own council. If enough influential people agreed she was a villain sympathizer ready to put Auradon’s safety at risk for a second time, then being the king’s girlfriend would not save her.

“Isn’t it delicious?” Belle asked her, bringing the younger woman back to the present.

Pressing her lips together, Mal smiled and hummed in agreement. When a summer rain upended Belle’s plans of an afternoon tea in the castle’s formal gardens, she’d moved everything into a corner of the library. Mal attended in place of her usual dining hall lunch at Auradon prep, giving her the perfect opportunity to leave for her next class.

While Alice and Wendy, both adults, chatted about a book they were reading for Belle’s book club, the hostess smiled at Mal and said, “Have you and Ben discussed any plans for after graduation?”

If Mal thought she might have appetite for any of the tea sandwiches, the inclination disappeared. “He hasn’t said anything to you?” she deflected.

Belle smiled thoughtfully. “No, Ben is rather shy.” She picked up a white porcelain teapot and refilled her dainty cup with gold rim and handle. “Mal, our family would love for you to move in with us after graduation.”

The smile and widening of her eyes felt mechanical. Everyone had been telling her to expect this invitation. “Wow! That’s so kind!”

Belle beamed. “I was thinking your room could be the one looking out on the lake, in the East Wing.”

A corner of Mal’s smile twitched as she maintained enthusiasm while slowly asking, “Oh, but isn’t Ben’s room in the West Wing?” When Belle simply bobbed her head and answered positively, Mal followed up with, “I was thinking Ben and I could live together for a while outside of the castle.”

She knew it was a bold move, and Belle’s wide eyes said everything before she spoke. “Oh no, you can’t live together before you’re married.”

“But, you and the Beast—” Mal’s jaw clenched shut should she risk insulting the queen mother.

Belle understood where that was going and calmly explained, “It’s different when you’re living a castle with servants everywhere.”

“Y-yeah! Of course!” Mal nodded vehemently. She glanced at her watch without reading the time and declared, “Oh, I like to be early to class to get the best seat. I’d better go.” She gathered her purse. “Thank you for inviting me.”

She rushed her goodbyes to everyone and headed out the door. Castle Beast had become increasingly familiar to her over the past few months, especially the escape routes. She assured herself it would feel more like home once she and Ben were firmly in charge.

Stepping outside, she opened up the umbrella tucked into her purse and headed through the rain. The humidity made her feet stick uncomfortably in her heels. A wave of sadness washed over her, and Mal suddenly wanted to skip class to lay down in her dorm.

‘I could magic away this storm if I put enough power into it,’ she daydreamed as her feet, becoming increasingly wet, dodged puddles on the paved walked trail to Auradon Prep.

After several minutes of listening to nothing but the sounds of the rain on trees, her tip-tapping footsteps, and her breathing, she emerged on the other side of the trees and past the dorms. She didn’t even hear the window opening.

“Hey, Mal!”

She looked around and saw no one near her.

“Up here!”

Tilting her umbrella, Mal found Carlos grinning down at her from his second floor room. She hadn’t even realized how deeply she’d been frowning until her face lit up.

“Carlos! Hey!”

For a moment, they were a pair foolishly beaming at each other. She didn’t know what to say to him, except the longer she spent on the feeling, the more she knew. Mal wanted to ask if he wanted to skip class and have another indoor picnic, her treat.

“When’s the next fitting?” She didn’t care about the dress in that moment.

He shrugged. “Is tomorrow good?”

She couldn’t say yes fast enough.

Chapter Text

Carlos walked around her as he judged the neckline. Finally, he stopped behind her and squeezed together the fabric under her shoulder blades.“Are you eating?”

“What? Yes!”

“Because you dropped a dress size.” Gripping pins, he wiped his forehead with the back of his wrist. “No wonder my mom used to get so worked up before a show.” He pulled and folded the excess fabric before adding a few pins. “Okay, get up on the stand.”

Heels tapping, she carefully spun on the platform so the dress could be viewed at every angle.

“How’s it look?” Mal tried checking out the additional lacework he’d added to the bodice. It looked right on the mannequin, but she could hardly judge. 

Carlos pressed his index knuckle to his lips as he observed the result of his total overhaul to the lace appliqué. He stared, saying nothing and making her sweat that maybe she didn’t look right for the dress at all.

Jerking out of his thoughts, he said, “Uh, they look great.” He cleared his voice. “The new lace looks great.”

“I need to make sure everything looks perfect for this cotillion,” she said, her tone turning grumpy near the end. Picking up on his awkward energy, she said, “What? Just say it.”

“Ah–”

“Say it!”

Shaking his head as if to clear it, Carlos hurriedly answered, “I just don’t think you like the dress.”

Mal stepped down from the pedestal and dejectedly plopped onto her bed, causing the dress’ layers of tulle to puff. She knew Carlos was right, and she mentally kicked herself for being so obvious. He’d spent so much time working on this dress for her. Some grateful friend she was. Carlos took a dress that didn’t reflect her at all and gave it Isle edge, and she still couldn’t get past the color scheme. Her eyes prickled. She was going to let everyone down.

Slumping forward, she looked imploringly at Carlos. “Why am I the one who has to do all of the changing? Purple is a royal color too.”

Something secretive flickered in his dark eyes, but his jaw clamped shut. Mal swore he had a handful of thoughts and no plan to share any of them. She was on the verge of asking, to know if she imagined that sneaky look.

Then Mal shifted, sending a metal tip into her skin. “Ow! Ow! Pin! Ow!”

She ground her teeth together to stop yelling and tried adjusting while Carlos’ rushed to grasp her waist, pulling her to her feet. She wobbled on her heels and grabbed his shoulders. His hands searched at the edges of the lace overlay covering her chest and waist.

Nervous she’d bleed and ruin the dress, she hissed, “It’s in my side!”

His hands swept under her arms and found the pin he’d placed while planning to take her dress in again. Relieved, he held the pin up with a victorious smile that abruptly died upon realizing what he’d just done with the king’s fiancee-to-be. He stepped away, and Mal’s hands slid off the shoulders of his distressed white tee.

“Uh–” Carlos swallowed “—I am so sorry. I-I totally understand if you don’t want me to work on your dress anymore. Or if you —uh— ” He didn’t breathe throughout the apology, waiting for her to be justifiably angry.

“Hey! If I don’t want you working on my dress, then I’ll say so,” she snapped, surprising herself with how angry she became at the thought of him ditching her now. Him accidentally groping the sides of her breasts did not even register in comparison. Her thoughts on that hadn’t even formed yet.

Except her heartbeat felt like a bomb.

“Okay,” he said, shocked he wasn’t being pelted with every throw pillow and fabric bolt in grabbing distance.

Carefully, he returned to the topic lingering on his mind. “So, how did you lose the weight? You’re the size my mother prefers her models.”

She visibly deflated, returning to where she sat on the bed but minding not to slouch this time. She crossed her arms, fingertips rubbing her dry, pointed elbows. As Mal wondered what to say, the bed sank as Carlos sat beside her. Him and his big, puppy dog eyes made her say it.

“I have been eating. It’s just that all of this pressure is doing things to my stomach.” She let go of her elbows and stared at her hands, sitting on her lap. “I can’t eat when there are cameras, and when I’m with Ben, having dinner, going on dates, there are almost always cameras anymore.”

She laughed ruefully. “When we had that televised dinner with the royal family of Agrabah, all I could eat was the sauce. I tried some of the lamb, but I had to spit it out.” She grimaced up at the ceiling, remembering, “And they got it on camera. Some lady of the court I am.”

A warm hand took hers. Looking down, she saw Carlos’ fingerless leather glove over hers, covered in the laser cut leather evening gloves he’d made. Her fingers found his thumb and squeezed. When he squeezed back, the confessions spilled out.

“You know, my mom always wanted me to be a little version of her,” she began slowly. “Evil, powerful, but never better than her.” She licked her lips. “Just good enough to stand in her shadow and have part of her name. But I wanted her to love me so badly.”

She looked up and found Carlos watching, eyes big and serious as he listened. “And here, everyone wants me to be an Auradon girl and turn in my spellbook.” Mal’s forehead wrinkled as she shook her head. “I’m always trying to be what people want me to be. Sometimes, I don’t know what’s me trying to be like my mother, or me trying to be an Auradon girl, or what’s just me. All I know is my magic is me.”

Vaguely, she knew Carlos might be losing circulation in his hand. Instead of complaining, he squeezed back.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you before.” When she started brushing off his apology, he shook his head. “You tried telling me that day you gave me the truth gummy, and I was thinking about myself too much to listen. I’m sorry.”

She looked down at their hands then looked back up while wearing a smile that strained against her sadness. “You’re the only person who likes my magic.”

Before Carlos could respond, the terrarium on her bedside rattled as her mother threw herself against a wall. Their attention snapped to it as Maleficent flopped onto her back and flailed until she tilted back onto her tiny, clawed feet.

Mal scoffed. “Shut up, Mother!”

“Hey.” His elbow bumped her arm, getting her attention. Mal looked at Carlos, who then gave Maleficent, Mistress of Evil, the middle finger.

An unbecomingly snort of laughter burst from Mal, devolving into giggles as she leaned her side into his as she flipped double birds at the tiny lizard on her bedside table.

“Yeah, fuck off, Mom!” She taunted high-spiritedly.

“Go eat a cricket, Malefi-Lizard!” Carlos supplied with no heat.

The lizard opened its mouth and hissed what would have been sharp words. She clawed at the glass terrarium wall, eliciting peels of laughter. Furious, the lizard scurried into the back of the tank and hid behind the fridge.

Feeling infinitely better, Mal hugged his middle and pressed her cheek to his shoulder so her hair tickled his neck. Giggles still wracked both of their chests.

His arm went around her too. “Wanna raid the kitchen after this? Jay found where they keep the leftover butter rolls and chicken salad—”

She sat up, dislodging his arms. “You know where the fucking chicken salad is?!”

Her incensed outburst surprised him, making him sit up straighter. “Yes?”

Mal huffed, her head falling back onto his shoulder. “Figures.” The reminder of her eating issues sobered Mal. “But if I start eating now, then you’ll have to fix my dress again.”

“I’ll figure it out,” he said definitively. “It’s my job to have your back and make you look perfect.”

She giggled, her nose close to his throat. “Thanks to you, at least I know something will go right at this stupid party.”

Then her breath hitched in her throat at his fingers ran up and down her spine, fingertips tentatively ghosting over a shoulder blade. He swiftly let go, withdrawing his arms completely and standing. “Do you want to wear this dress?”

Mal touched the warm spot where her cheek had rested on his shoulder. She wanted to ask why he pulled away so quickly after touching her in a way that made her want to be closer.

“No.” Being honest felt so good, and it seemed like Carlos was the only person she spoke openly with anymore.

‘Come over here and hold me again.’ Maybe not so openly. Thoughts like that made no sense to Mal.

“But you’re going to wear it?” asked Carlos, none the wiser to her confusion and wanting.

Her pink lips pulled back in a smile as she rubbed the leather of her gloved palms together. “You worked so hard on it. I can’t not wear it. And it’s a cool dress. Yellow’s just not my color.”

When he didn’t respond after several seconds, she turned her head to find him staring with a slightly glazed look, clearly thinking, maybe even debating.

She held up her arms, putting herself on display. “Tell me three things.”

“You mean three things I don’t like about how you look?”

“Whatever you want,” she said simply to emphasize what an easy task it should be. “As long as it’s honest.” She hoped for some clue what he thought about her.

Eyes meeting, he nodded his head sideways, toward the pedestal. She took the hint and returned to the elevated stand to wait, back straight and arms at her sides, while he slowly paced around her.

‘This is stupid,’ she chided the hair that had gone up on her arms. ‘I cannot be losing my mind over Carlos.’ She remembered Isle kids sometimes barked at the boy, who’d jump a good foot in the air. This was Carlos, who fell out of the limousine on their first day at Auradon and flailed on the ground with chocolate around his mouth, making them look like idiots.

Although, that was a long time ago. Mal thought back to the shy boy who failed to ask Jane out. She compared that image to the boy contemplatively examining her form in such a way that made her head spin.

’Something changed when you started working on my dress,’ Mal thought. ‘Maybe it’s those De Vil genes finally kicking in.’ The idea of that was too exciting to her.

He came back into view around her, and she acknowledged this wasn’t the same boy from the Isle. This teenager stood straighter and sometimes seemed self-possessed, particularly when that razor was drawn. And she loved it.

“Well?” she asked impatiently, needing to put an end to this line of thought.

His dark eyes flashed up to her. Lowering his fist from its thoughtful position over his lips, Carlos quietly said, “Your shoulders are perfect for a straight neck cut.”

Her feelings of flattery were chased with anger and embarrassment that he could make her feel so happy with a stupid compliment.

“Opening the skirt was a pain.” He tugged side-to-side the tulle exposed where the dress split in the front, testing its movement while unknowingly making something flutter in her stomach. “But your ankles look perfect.”

Mal cleared her throat. “And number three?” She turned, sliding the fabric out of his grip. He drove her crazy when he pulled at her clothes.

His hand lingered then dropped. Carlos gave her another up and down before saying, “You make the dress look great. You really sell it.”

She huffed “Isn’t there anything wrong with how I look?” she said, wondering if he really thought she looked good in yellow.

“That’s just it.” The way his brown eyes met hers made Mal’s mind go blank. “I’ve got nothing.”

She was all beating heart. The air had become warm. The sight of him, one look from him, made her light and glowing.

‘It’ll be over when the dress is finished,’ she tried convincing herself, not for the first time. That she and Carlos could stop being this close, revert back to their previous states, made her ill and miserable.

‘It’s just because he’s making me a dress, and it’s messing with my head.’

She’d adored all of the attention from Evie in their dozens and dozens of fittings for her new Auradon wardrobe. Mal’s excuses fell flimsily on the stubborn, selfish thought living and breathing in her chest — ‘I don’t want this to be over.’

“I’m probably just being picky at this point,” Carlos said, ignorant to her thoughts as he tugged and brushed the dress’ skirt in search of imperfections.

“Maybe you should be my stylist from now on.” She knew it would be signing up for trouble, but she was ready to write her name in permanent ink.

Carlos, unaware of the danger or seriousness of the proposition, flipped through the remnants of Evie’s Auradon look book specifically for Mal. “It’s really not my style. Besides—” he snapped it shut and dropped it on the desk “—I’m not going into fashion. Maybe something in tech or a vet.”

“Not enough black, white, and red?” Mal smirked down at him with half-lidded eyes. “Maybe you should dress me up like that sometime.”

He blinked once then three times rapidly. “Wh-what?”

“Put me in your colors,” she said, amused at the understanding dawning over his stunned expression. “Then sometime, you can return the favor and wear mine.”

“You mean go as each other for Halloween?” He spoke slowly like a kid who didn’t know if his answer was remotely correct.

“No.”

Shaking his head to move on, Carlos then said, “I wouldn’t look good in lime.” He began tidying the desk of loose threads in an attempt to do something with his hands.

“No, my accent color is neon green.”

“You really want to argue with me on this?”

She smugly replied, “Yes” not because she cared about being right. She just enjoyed any attempt to get under his skin.

“My mom nearly bit my head off when I didn’t know how burgundy was different from maroon.”He looked at her. “Maroon has brown in it. Burgundy is red and purple.”

Mal didn’t care about colors. She cared that when an alarm on his phone went off, he began putting away pins and wrapping up the measuring tape around his hand. He pushed in the chair to her desk, gathered lose threads he’d trimmed and tossed them in the trash before scooping up his backpack.

“Where are you going?”

“Remember when I got here and you said you had to be at the castle for dinner?” He waved his phone. “I set a timer.”

“Yeah, I have to be somewhere, not you.”

“I still have stuff to do,” Carlos said conversationally, his vagueness annoying her. “Hey, if you go to lunch or dinner with Ben and there are cameras, and you can’t eat, just come get me or Jay. We’ll show you where they hide the good, pre-made food in the kitchens.” He shrugged, head tilting from one side to the other. “Even if it’s the middle night, just magic your way in and wake me up.” His eyes went up to the ceiling as he thought about it. “Specifically me.”

Mal snorted. “What? You sleep fully clothed but Jay doesn’t?”

“Yeah.”

She stared right at him. “Too bad.”

Carlos blinked rapidly as if that would help him realize there’d been a misunderstanding. “Ah—aha,” he forced laughter, keeping his voice light. “Yeah, it’s totally too bad. About Jay.”

Mal was suddenly reminded of his fake joking with Jane after fencing practice, when she’d pretended to punch his arm and called him a friend after missing yet another attempt to ask her out. ‘Oh don’t you dare treat me like I’m Jane!’

“Carlos—”

“See ya, Mal.” The door clicked shut.

He was gone, and her brightly lit room felt cold.

Carlos did have somewhere to be and something to do. There was no time to waste. The clock was ticking. Countdown: cotillion.

Finding an alcove next to a window, Carlos dug a sketchbook out of his book bag and sat on the long wooden bench. His feet pressed flatly onto the bench’s seat so he could use his lap as a makeshift easel. His mechanical pencil scrawled out a thin female form. Carlos didn’t overthink it as his pencil tried desperately to capture the lightning bolt idea striking him. He wrote several numbers in yards at the top righthand corner then got up to head back toward the girls’ dorms.

‘This is crazy.’ His mother might approve.

His knuckles wrapped on the door. The moment it opened, he was saying, “I need to use your fabric. A lot of it.”

Evie readily stepped aside and closed the door behind him. “Sure, but can I ask what you’re making?”

He unabashedly grabbed bolts of violet, mauve, and burgundy. Carlos took his sketchbook of poor fashion sketches but detailed notes and flipped it open to the new project he had in mind. He knew fully well that he was mad to think he could make a whole new dress in time.

“It’s hard to explain,” he deflected, preferring to reveal projects after completion anyway. “I’ll pay you back somehow.”

He looked up and found Evie not even noticing the bolts he’d grabbed. Instead, she sat at her vanity and reapplied her lip liner in the mirror. An open pill bottle sat among her make-up and hair tools.

“Have it, no strings.” It was slang for a gift that wouldn’t be used as leverage later. Carlos supposed she wouldn’t have said something so Isle with Doug or any other Auradon kids around. “Let’s call it even for you finishing Mal’s dress.”

Checking her hat next, Evie then added, “I’m heading out, but take what you need. Mal invited Doug and me to Castle Beast.”

Carlos sharply turned his head to look at Evie’s outfit from hat to shoes. She wore a long A-line dress with a skirt covered fabric rosettes. Her blue heels with the red glass shaped like rubies peeked out from underneath. The hat, a bold choice for what might be dinner, had a stiff brim out of the way of her face.

“You and Doug or just you but you’re bringing Doug?”

She stopped running a lipstick pencil over her upper lip and looked at him. “Does it matter?”

“Depends,” he checked his notes then began flipping the bolt with the darkest violet fabric, “If Mal invited you as a guest or for support.”

“I can still support her and be a good girlfriend,” she said decidedly while returning her attention to the mirror, where she began adjusting her gold chain necklace with a single ruby the size of the nail on her pinky finger. Briefly, the only sounds in her room were of Carlos measuring and cutting fabric like a machine.

“Hey Carlos,” she said so softly that he stopped.

Carlos looked up and saw her hands rested on her necklace. He listened as she went on, “I haven’t told anyone, but I’m hoping Ben is going to announce they’re closing the Villains Gallery at the museum.”

Conflicting emotions went through him before settling on, “So they can forget the Isle exists entirely?” Tired of the scissors, he flipped open the straight edge razor and sliced a clean line.

“No,” Evie said, sounding surprised he’d come to such conclusion. “So kids will stop being taught to be afraid of us, and so we don’t have to be constantly reminded that Auradon sees our parents as monsters.”

His razor hovered over the next bolt then snapped shut, and the fist clutching it rested on the table. “Oh. Well, I hope that happens.”

She walked over to the other side of the work table and rested her hands on the fabric. Her voice both hesitant and hopeful, she asked, “It’ll happen, right?”

Carlos looked up from the fabric to levelly meet her gaze. Since coming to Auradon, he’d seen nothing change except who Ben’s girlfriend was. He couldn’t believe Evie, the one who’d assimilated the most, thought Auradon would be open to forgiving the very people they abandoned on an Isle with one purpose: suffer.

“No,” he told her without looking away. “Because I’m starting to think it’ll take more than the four of us to change anything.”

Evie deflated, heartbroken as she softly said, “Please don’t mean that.”

Faking an easy smile, he lied. “C’mon, you know I’ve been in a weird mood lately. I’m probably wrong. Go enjoy dinner or whatever you guys are doing.”

She went around the work table to put a hand on his shoulder and pecked his temple. “Thank you.” Her arm wrapped around his shoulders, and his went around her waist as they side-hugged. They remained that way while their eyes simultaneously went down to his open sketchbook.

“It’s cute.” One red painted nail traced the dress’ outline.

“Maybe,” he doubted, only because he knew his sketch to be abysmal. It didn’t communicate at all what he had in mind, and he drew it entirely with a mechanical pencil. In this moment, with Evie’s eyes upon it, Carlos figured this was a good thing. He didn’t need her putting together that he planned on making an entirely new ballgown for Mal. He also didn’t need to pay too much attention to why this was a secret.

Except now he was thinking about why his plan to make a second dress needed to be a secret. Carlos thought it was to not hurt Evie’s feelings about the yellow dress, but the logic quickly fell apart the moment he picked at it. Evie had been nothing but excited and encouraging when he freely took an interest in creating fashion. When he’d mentioned making changes to the yellow dress, she’d taken no offense. Being Mal’s official stylist, Evie would probably love his new idea.

But, Carlos didn’t want questions he didn’t have clear answers to.

“Want to work with me here in the Four Hearts Boutique?” Evie’s tone was teasing, but she fully meant it. “Anything you make that I sell, I’ll only take enough to cover production costs.”

He snorted — although that deal was tempting — and flipped shut his sketchbook. “I might have to when Jay collects on the energy drinks he’s been getting me.”

Carlos suddenly felt voiceless, unable to say what he wanted to Evie. If he could, he’d tell her about the things Mal had been saying to him lately. He wanted a girl’s perspective on what it meant. He wanted to tell Evie about how the sight of Mal trudging past his dorm compelled him to open his window and call her name. He wanted to ask what it meant when she saw him, and her whole self became so radiant it was as if the sun had come out.

But he knew that if he asked, then she’d possibly come to a similar conclusion he’d been avoiding. Carlos knew the answers to those questions had no happy ending, so they had no place in Auradon.

He gave her another squeeze before pulling away and folding the fabrics for easy transportation. “Let me know how it goes.”

Having decided to leave, Carlos was promptly gone out the door. Every minute until cotillion mattered if he was going to make the dress of Mal’s dreams.

Castle Beast was an amber-lit monolith of soaring white stone towers with blue banners waving atop every spire. The crown jewel of all Auradon sat against a black blue sky littered with stars and across a lawn of soft, cool grass. Evie’s heart swelled from where she stood at the bottom of the drive. Flames danced in old, white painted lanterns dotting the white gravel road going right up to the castle doors. Her heels wobbled on the uneven path, but she paid no mind. She cherished the opportunity to return to the castle for the first time since the coronation.

Evie had been so lost in her dreamy state of appreciating the flower-filled vases and dancing fireflies that she barely noticed Doug talking.

“Evie?”

“Hm?” Her head turned away from the marble horse statues they passed.

“I said I’ve got tomorrow’s date night planned,” Doug repeated himself, though she caught a hint of exasperation. Evie turned her head and immediately felt guilty for being such a negligent girlfriend.

He continued on with more excitement now that he had her attention. “They’re playing a movie at this historic Oswald Theater, and there’s going to be a dinner beforehand at Be Our Guest. It’s this restaurant opened by the former head chef at Castle Beast. The menu is prix fixe, and I have two tickets reserved in case you wanted to go.”

That brought Evie right back to her own two feet. ‘Right, our Friday night dates.’ That was the night she and Ben planned to sneak to the Isle and back. Relegating canceling on Doug to the back of her mind had been easy enough with cotillion orders and school work.

She eyes wandered unseeingly over the path while trying to think of a way to cancel without hurting his feelings or sounding suspicious. One hand self-consciously touched her hat while Doug talked about the movie, an old black and white musical. She still hoped to resolve the issue of these horns without Doug having to know. Him worrying wouldn’t help, and without any way to help her, that’s all he’d be able to do.

“There’s going to be beef bourguignon and I think tuna tartare? The courses are on the website,” he went on, trailing off as he tried remembering.

They’d reached the top of the drive and were rounding the wide, tiered fountain topped with a bronze statue of Belle and Beast dancing. “Doug,” she stared, voice soft. “I’m sorry, but I want to spend Friday night resting.”

He sputtered, trying to begin his reaction a few different ways before settling on, “I—I mean that’s completely fine. I just don’t know why we’re not spending any time together.”

Evie took his hand and smiled. “I’m here, right now.”

With a comforting squeeze, she led their way up the stone steps and to the front doors. No introductions were needed with the guards. One of whom knocked on the nearly twenty foot double doors, which was then pulled open by a gear and pulley system that cranked to life.

A bright smile fought its way back onto her face despite the plummeting feeling of Doug’s palpable disappointment beside her. She couldn’t not at the sight of a great blue floor runner leading them into an entry hall brightly lit by gold chandeliers. Polished suits of armors stood between marble columns as they entered with her hand now in the crook of Doug’s arm. She could hear the thrum of the evening’s guests already gathered somewhere ahead.

But even closer, she heard two voices. Evie paused, causing Doug to walk a few steps ahead and out of her loose grip.

“Evie?”

She held up a hand to command he stay back as she quietly stalked toward a side hallway that stretched a ways. Approaching the bend, the words and their speakers became clear.

“This is complete and accurate? Everything has been accounted for?” Ben’s voice carried around the corner. The sound of pages flipping whispered in the hallway.

“Yes, sire. I can attest to it,” replied the affected voice of Cogsworth.

“Everything is really in perfect condition?” Pages continued flipping.

“Of course, sire. Why wouldn’t they be?”

The ensuing silence was brief yet heavy. Evie could tell Ben wrestled with the fact that a trusted member of his family’s staff was lying to him. She could almost feel his disbelief in his inability to say anything.

Eventually, folder snapping shut, he managed a tense, “Thank you.”

Evie heard footsteps and knew better than to hope they were both walking away from her. She quickly stepped forward, around the corner and into Ben. He exclaimed in surprise, and she pretended to match him. Fingers touched her elbow just enough to be there in case she lost her balance.

“There you are,” Evie said with a laugh, as if she hadn’t caught a serious conversation. “I haven’t seen you all week.”

His surprise relaxed into a relieved smile as the stress on his face melted away. “Hey! Yeah, I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” His shoulders dropped and his smile with it. “About that thing you and I were talking about. Our group project for History of Auradon?”

‘He’s so cute when he’s trying to be secretive.’

Evie, seeing Cogsworth lingered nearby with an eye on them, knew Ben could only say so much. The teenaged boy waved a folder as if pushing the topic aside. He looked purposefully from her to the folder.

“But we can catch up this evening.”

She caught the folder’s label: Museum of Cultural History Collection Report. “Yeah, of course.”

‘So that’s it. The museum is covering up the damaged Mirror, wands, those wings, and who knows what else.’ Evie still saw those beautiful, destroyed magical things and knew they’d met a violent end. ‘And what about their owners? Maybe the report has them listed. But what am I thinking asking questions when I have my own problems?’

She knew herself. She wanted to know if the owners of those wands and the wings were all right. And then, she wanted to know why this happened.

Ben offered his arm to lead the way back. Unexpected relief came over her when she accepted it. Their long steps easily carried them away from Cogsworth, who followed after with an inquisitive stare. Evie forced herself not to throw a paranoid look back at him. Ben’s unusually cagey air put her on edge.

The young king leaned down to whisper, “I’m sorry. The Villains Gallery is staying open.”

Evie’s heart fell through her feet. Though she didn’t break her stride, she felt lightheaded. “What?” she breathed more than whispered.

The sadness coloring his eyes broke her heart. “I’m sorry.”

She inhaled, pulling herself together and said, “My mom probably likes that there’s a statue of her before the baby weight anyway.”

His exhaled laugh was pained yet real, as was her smile. Although, it was never about what her mother or other villain parents wanted. This was always about ending Auradon’s prejudice and freeing more VKs. Evie feared Carlos being right about Auradon.

‘I’m going to have faith,’ she decided. ‘We lost that battle, but I won’t lose this war.’

Doug, balancing back and forth in his dress shoes, waited with restrained impatience as they  finally reached the end of the hallway. “There you are! Why didn’t you just say you heard Ben?”

Said boy quickly jumped in. “Doug, I’m glad you could make it tonight.” Not that he’d had much reason to expect him, but Ben was the type to welcome anyone to his table. He withdrew his arm from Evie, who wondered if he felt self-conscious having another guy’s girlfriend on his arm.

Ben gestured at both of them with the folder still in his hand. “Cogsworth can help you get settled out in the courtyard. Jay and I are going to have a bout or two of fencing before dinner.”

“Oh, fun!” Doug said good-naturedly, his manners overriding the confusion rolling off of him. Evie took his arm and gave a reassuring squeeze. She couldn’t wait to explain this whole situation to him once it was over.

Cogsworth stiffly walked ahead, saying, “This way, Monsieur et Mademoiselle.”

Evie couldn’t keep herself from throwing one questioning look back at Ben before the trio left him behind. He’d already been watching her go. When their eyes met, he held up his hand in goodbye.

“I’m staging an intervention.”

Carlos looked up from where he sat on the floor with pins and violet silk in his hands. Swaths of mauve, burgundy, and amethyst covered his bed and hung from chairs. Black gauze hung over the curtains. He’d clearly distressed the gauze himself, because the curtains sported matching slashes.

“Why?” Carlos asked, opening his arms to shrug but accidentally opening the straight edge razor still gripped in one hand.

Jay, brows furrowed in concern, didn’t break eye contact while gesturing at black splotches spray painted onto the wall beside his bed. “What’s that?”

“Something that can be painted over.” To be precise, it was fabric paint used when he tested out an idea of making the hemline appear burnt. His experiment had been a success, fueling his mania. Carlos returned to spreading out his fabric on the floor and set his pins aside before finding his curved ruler. He had shapes to make and not enough time.

Unless— “Jay, I need your help stealing a sewing machine and a mannequin from Home Ec.”

The older boy wisely shut the door in case of nosy Auradon kids. “Are you nuts?”

Stilling crawling on the floor and not looking at Jay, Carlos said, “When I said steal, I meant borrow.”

A bark drew Jay’s attention over to the other boy’s bed, where he found Dude under discarded scraps of gauze and chiffon. “Uh, Carlos, you need a break.”

“Actually, I need more energy drinks.” Carlos suddenly popped up onto his feet and grabbed two black bustier bras from a chair. “Which one do you think is Mal’s size?” He momentarily slipped back to his usual self. “I-uh-um-I don’t have a lot of experience in that area.”

Jay crossed his arms and squinted.

The younger boy blushed. “I mean I don’t have any experience!” So that was technically a lie now, but he didn’t want to defend to Jay that it was all in search of a rogue pin.

Shaking his head, Jay said, “You’re crazy if you think the one on the left would fit. Go right. So Mal is forcing you to make her a whole new dress now? Man, what did I tell you about showing her some spine?”

“No one is making me do anything,” he said while using a pencil to mark where he’d pin the fabric before cutting. “This is my choice. This whole crazy idea is all me!”

Jay nodded slowly. “At least you know it’s crazy.”

Carlos didn’t need anyone to understand when he actually needed equipment. “Let’s go ahead and grab that mannequin and sewing machine.”

“I’ll help you borrow that stuff IF you take a few hours away from dressmaking and go to the castle with me.” Jay learned how to thieve from his mom and how to strike a deal from his dad. “Because you’re being so crazy right now. Smell fresh air, man! Touch grass!”

‘Overrated.’ But he needed that stuff, so he could trade a couple hours for them. “Deal.”

One pilfered mannequin and a borrowed sewing machine later, the two VKs hot-footed their way out of Auradon Prep grounds and toward Castle Beast, on the other side of the Enchanted Forest. When Jay had told him to wear sparring gear, Carlos realized what he’d actually signed up for. He didn’t understand why he kept letting himself end up in situations where he was doomed for embarrassment.

But a deal was a deal. That’s how he found himself jogging a step behind Jay, their footsteps crunching the gravel drive.

“Hey,” Jay called back to him. “How did you get those bras?”

“They’re bustiers,” Carlos specified as if that made his ensuing admission any better. “And I bought them.”

“Online?”

“…No.”

Thankfully, Jay just shook his head and left it at that. The bustier idea Carlos blamed on his mother’s lead dress maker, Artie. A queen in his own right, Artie taught him that in a pinch, a bustier bra could be used as a base to ensure the dress fit up top. The dress’ fabric would get sewn to it. Carlos would like to give Mal’s torso a more sculpted appearance, but he knew Auradon’s sensibilities wouldn’t be kind to her if she actually showed off the shape of her breasts.

His mind rushed back to the present, trying to escape the thought of, ‘That’s a shame.’

They reached the front steps of the obnoxiously massive castle. Instead of going up the main castle steps to the front doors, Jay led the way over to a side entrance which Carlos figured to be for servants. A tall, candlestick-thin man in a yellow tailcoat seemed to be waiting specifically for them. Though his pompadour hairstyle looked ridiculously old-fashioned, his smile was timeless and genuine.

“Monsieurs, bienvenue! His Royal Highness asked I escort you to the dueling court,” he said with a flourish of his hand and a polite bow. “Suivez-moi, s’il vous plait.”

Jay hesitated when he didn’t understand, but Carlos gave a quick “merci” before following after. His mother kept books for languages spoken by fashion houses and retailers worth speaking to. When he’d been bored, which was often for a friendless boy who lived on an Isle without internet and only two TV channels, he’d studied them.

They squeezed past bustling servants in small hallways with wood floors creaking underfoot. The smell of cooking meats and banging of spoons on pans told Carlos they must be very close to the kitchen. If they asked, they’d probably be invited to dinner by Ben regardless of their workout attire. But, Carlos was determined to have one or zero bouts of fencing to fulfill their deal then return to their dorm.

He barely saw what and who he passed now. His mind’s eye saw the completed dress, a true testament to the girl with devious green eyes and a princess streak.

Carlos and Jay agreed so long as the school didn’t miss what they’d taken, and they returned it, this was not stealing. As someone who didn’t care at that point, Carlos wasted no time wrestling with the ethics of his actions so long as the dress got completed on time.

‘Okay, so maybe Jay hadn’t been so wrong about me needing to step away.’ Carlos half-believed that at most.

Lumiere opened the door ahead of them, and fresh evening air enveloped them. They exited up a short flight of stone steps and into the courtyard. Carlos briefly forgot about the dress as he looked around the expanse lined by hedges and thick marble columns. The blue castle roofs stretched high overhead. He suddenly felt very small.

“This is us,” Jay declared while walking down a stone path.

Down the way, Carlos saw the dueling court, a red clay strip made of crumbled white limestone and topped with crushed red brick. The court itself was old-fashioned, as R.O.A.R. competitions took place on metal courts. White chalk lines marked the center line, the two en garde lines, and the edges.

“He should’ve just come to the school for practice,” Carlos mumbled while sitting down on a stone bench. He continued taking in the courtyard and found the soft mumbling of voices coming from downhill, where a dinner party was set-up in a rose garden. Tilting his head to look around an ice swan sculpture, he saw Evie’s vivid blue hair peeking out from under a hat.

‘A hat at a dinner party?’ Carlos could hear his mother humming and saying Evie should know better. Headwear for a dinner party should be a fascinator, not a hat to block the non-existent sun. He figured the sun disappeared from sight of the courtyard by five o’clock, and the sherbet hues of sunset painted the sky now.

“Hey Jay?” Carlos leaned forwarded to rest his elbows over his knees.

“What?” He pulled on his dueling gloves without care for the party going on.

“When’s the last time you saw the top of Evie’s head?”

Jay shrugged and went over to check out the practice swords already set-up. “Dunno. Not something I pay attention to.” He unsheathed a sword and gave a start when the blade wobbled. “What the—?”

“Those are the foils,” came Ben’s voice as he trotted up a wide set of stone steps from the rose garden. “Go three over, and that’s the set we’ll use.” He dressed in his old R.O.A.R. team uniform, complete with the captain’s emblem that also adorned Jay’s team hoodie.

Carlos stood out for more than just not ever being a team captain. All of his team uniforms were in his dirty laundry, and he could never lower himself to dig them out for even a few hours of wear. Instead, he wore an alternative outfit. Back when he thought he could wear whatever he wanted for practice, he’d ordered a set of red training pants and a white sleeveless training hoodie with black spots. But, Chad had waved the rulebook, and this outfit got shoved to the back of his dresser.

Cogsworth hurriedly huffed up the stairs after Ben, declaring, “Your Highness, I beseech you to use the foil swords. Your mother becomes nervous when you use—”

Jay unsheathed a metal, R.O.A.R. sword with a loud shink!

“—that.”

Ben, smiling and unbothered, replied, “Then she doesn’t need to watch. No one does. Let the guests start dinner without me and I’ll be down when I’m done.”

“It’s not so simple, Sire,” Cogsworth ground out while nervously looking back, where Ben’s parents were leading the guests fill the observation area behind the manicured hedges.

Carlos saw the royal families of many kingdoms south and some north of the Great Wall. He knew their names. They’d all signed them on the historical document in the Museum of Cultural History voting King Beast as sovereign of all. They, the heroes and heroines of so many fairytales, paraded around them in blissful contentment.

Evie’s face was the only one Carlos felt glad to recognize. She and Doug stood between the royal couples of the Summerlands and South Riding. When she caught him looking, Evie smiled and waved excitedly. Carlos, feeling slightly out of his body, nodded in greeting. He vaguely noticed a few classmates also there with their families, such as Chad and Rachel.

Part of him noticed his heart rate had picked up. He felt hot.

A double set of doors opened, causing some people to turn as a figure emerged from the golden candlelit glow. Tiny shoulders straightened themselves as a pointed chin raised so green eyes could look down on the audience.

Carlos stared up at her, taking her in. ‘Pastel yellow lace overlay. Canary yellow dress underneath in an A-line cut with a flared skirt. Yellow ribbon belt with a rhinestone appliqué in the center.’

All that was missing was her smile. His eyes narrowed when he realized she wasn’t announced, because she wasn’t a lady of the court yet. ‘And they’d never introduce Mal of the Isle of the Lost as the king’s girlfriend.’

Her gaze quickly found his black, red, and white attire. He gave her a weak smile. An imperfect one flickered on her lips but could not survive her nerves under all of the eyes.

“Mal, stand with us,” Belle’s feather light voice beckoned her over.

Carlos watched her, arms stiffly at her sides and back straight, take her spot beside the royal family.

‘Why are you doing this?’ he suddenly wanted to ask her. Carlos imagined walking right up to the chest-high border hedges and asking, ‘Is all this so you can marry Ben and live here? At what point do you get to be happy?’

Mal suddenly looked pointedly at him and shook her head, signaling that he needed to stop staring. He turned, albeit too quickly to not be awkward. Thankfully, no one seemed to care about Carlos De Vil. Eyes were now on King Ben, face mask sitting atop his head as he pulled on his dueling gloves. Jay already stood at the ready with mask on and hopping to warm-up.

“I’ll go first,” Carlos heard himself say. He already wore gloves, the red ones with his black and white crossed bones emblem.

Jay pulled up his face guard to look at his friend. Carlos didn’t know what expression he wore, but it was enough for Jay turn his sword’s point downward, hilted offered. The face guard followed suit.

“Get ‘em, man,” he said with a grin on his way to the sidelines.

The shorter boy, face guard still sitting atop of his head, took his spot behind an en garde line. Ben took the spot across from him, earning encouraging claps from the crowd. He grinned at Carlos, but the corners twitched apprehensively.

“I’m glad you changed your mind!” Ben said, sounding no different than his friendly, diplomatic self.

Carlos wondered if Ben could sense something was up but was turning a blind eye. “Yeah. Me too.” Although he would’ve liked stating he was just there as part of a deal, that no part of him actually cared about helping Ben practice when he had fashion to make.

Or maybe he would’ve liked saying, ‘Hey between the two of us, who do you think has touched your girlfriend more?’

‘Chill, man.’

He swallowed. The ground beneath his feet felt precarious and thin.

“The rules, gentlemen,” Cogsworth began, sounding snootier when projecting his voice. “Nine minutes in a bout divided into three with one minute breaks in-between. You halt on my whistle. The first to disarm within the nine minutes wins. If no one is disarmed, we shall call a draw.”

Jay walked over to the majordomo and offered, “I’ll take over refereeing.” He pointed a finger at Carlos and half-joked, “This one’s been feisty lately.”

“You, sir, do not have a watch.”

Jay grinned and held up a stop watch that Cogsworth stared at with a mix of shock and familiarity. “Hey, thanks for lending me yours.”

“I most certainly did—!”

“Cogsworth,” Ben easily interrupted. “Let Jay referee. He came all this way for me.”

The man indignantly tugged at his brown vest but wisely stepped aside to join the spectators behind the hedges.

Carlos and Ben, unmasked, faced each other as Jay called, “Salute!”

Their swords raised, points toward their chins before their free hands pulled their masks into place. Carlos felt glad to hide his face, should he reveal that nervousness stirred in his stomach. He wondered what it was like to be Ben, who never seemed nervous.

“En garde!”

Carlos set his left foot back and bent his right knee. ‘Light grip. Light thoughts.’

Jay’s arm went down. “Go!”

Ben didn’t need practice. His blade swung diagonally at Carlos’, driving it down. He shuffled backward, freeing his sword to swing it toward Ben’s exposed shoulder. His opponent’s sword caught him in a diagonal parry. Then came the forward thrusting riposte straight at Carlos.

He parried and leaned sideways, away from the blade. Already sweating, Carlos realized nepotism hadn’t made Ben captain. Years of private tutors and hard work did. His opponent was driving him back with each advance, attack, and soft clapping from the audience. The mask suddenly felt difficult to breath through.

‘Damn it!’ A powerful strike nearly sent his sword flying, but his fingertips held on. Seeing his chance, Carlos twirled the sword, point towards Ben. The latter boy hopped backward.

Carlos took his chance. He surged forward, spun on his foot like his life depended on it, and used the momentum to strike Ben’s blade. The meeting of sharp metal ends rang shrilly in the open air.

“Halt!” Jay’s voice cut through it, raising the stop watch.

Ben and Carlos looked at each other. He realized Ben’s sword was still in his grip, but he had to give the point a jerk out of the ground. As they straightened up and pulled back their masks, Ben forced a laugh.

“Jay wasn’t kidding when he called you feisty.”

Carlos didn’t smile. “Like a dog, right?”

Ben’s smile dropped. “No.” But he was too late, as Carlos was already pacing away from him. He didn’t want to talk to Ben, who was almost overbearingly nice. Carlos didn’t want to laugh or joke or anything to make anyone feel better about him being there.

Rubbing his face, he paced around the court. ‘Do you people just casually have lavish dinner parties all the time? And all of you know there are kids on the Isle. Kids who will be lucky to get one solid meal.’

He inhaled deeply, but all it did was make him dizzy. ‘And you’re all okay with it. You chose it. You did this to us.’

Carlos pulled his mask back over his face, because he almost felt like crying. ‘I was a good kid. I didn’t deserve the Isle. I was a good kid.’

Jay’s deep, strong voice cut through his thoughts. “Carlos.” He turned his head and saw both boys watching him. “Minute’s up.”

Feeling overwhelmed, Carlos took his mask off to breath again, this time shallowly but evenly. His free hand ran through his hair, already so sweaty that it remained slicked back. As he approached his en garde line, his eye caught Mal’s. She frowned at him with big eyes.

‘She looks like a doll they dressed up.’ That wasn’t the girl he knew.

“Hey Carlos?” Ben said, loud enough to be heard but clearly trying to be quiet enough so not everyone heard him. “Are we cool?”

The VK looked at the king and lied. “Yeah man. We’re cool.”

It wasn’t fair that Ben would be the target of his current emotions, but a duel’s a duel. Jay called salute, en garde, and it was go time again.

Carlos lunged forward at the same time as Ben. In a fraction of a second, Carlos stopped short — a distance trap. The older boy’s arm accelerated out, striking the space where his opponent had almost been.

The VK hopped forward onto one foot, back in range to strike Ben’s blade out and to the side.

‘Shove him!’ a crazy voice insisted in his head, but bodily contact to the abdomen would be against the rules.

Carlos brought his sword down toward Ben, who impressively leapt back and out of the way. Healthy applause erupted from the audience, fueling Ben up from the crouched position he’d landed in. He surged forward, sword’s connecting over their heads as Ben pushed Carlos back and back.

The struggle ended with Jay’s firm, “HALT!”

Ben broke away and quickly backed up behind his line. Both boys breathed heavily. Ben unmasked himself, revealing his face pale and nose red from exertion. He looked at Carlos, who felt encouraged to see worry in his features. He pulled up his own mask and looked him dead in the eye to let him know he wasn’t nervous at all anymore.

‘Everyone here wants me to lose.’ He stepped back up to the en garde line and waited for the minute to pass. ‘I’ve been losing my whole life. But I’m not losing in front of them.’

He knew he was going out of his mind. He just didn’t have whatever it took to care.

The minute was up.

Salute.

En garde.

Go.

Then they were dancing a waltz of steel and steps. Movement meant staying alive. The crowd didn’t exist anymore. Their muscles were tiring from stress and exhaustion. The moves were becoming less fancy yet faster, frantic.

This was why breaks divided bouts. Sloppiness gave way to a loss at best, injury at worst.

When Carlos attempted another distance trap by advancing just to stop short, Ben called it. He continued toward Carlos, swinging his sword up to strike. Carlos defended himself with a flick of his wrist and squeezed the hilt to firmly smack the offending blade aside.

They locked blades again, and Ben grabbed his wrist. The shorter boy did the same, and they were locked, trying to overpower each other.

That’s when Carlos realized the swords pointed at the ground feet away from Mal, who stood stock still and staring. She’d not moved that entire time, like a doll.

‘No — like a puppet.’

Because that’s what Auradon had to gain from making her a lady of the court and a shadow of herself. They used her in their new Be Good poster campaign on the Isle. Carlos imagined the younger kids seeing that and thinking maybe if they were good enough, then they could go to Auradon. If they were good enough, then good things could happen to them.

His arms shook. Ben, physically stronger, was winning.

‘But they’re already good kids.’

Carlos forced their arms up, spinning and disentangling their swords. Released, Ben stumbled around one more time before recovering his attack stance. Carlos already stood at the ready.

“HALT!” Jay called, holding up the stop watch. “Good match, guys!”

But neither boy moved. Ben, clearly watching Carlos, hovered between straightening up and maintaining his fight stance.

‘So what are you gonna’ do?’ he asked himself. ‘White knight for everyone?’

‘No.’ Carlos eased his weight to his back leg, knee bending like a loaded spring. ‘I’m going to make a statement.’

And in a moment of pure De Vil madness, with the clock at zero, he lunged.

Chapter Text

‘Breathe.’

Commanding herself was the only way Mal managed to breath throughout the duel. She noticed Belle and Beast clapping when Ben did well. From the corner of her eye, she saw Belle glancing down at her unmoving hands. Plenty of people clapped and supported Ben. When Carlos did well, silence was his reward. She wanted to cheer for him, to let him know he wasn’t alone in this fight, but she was the king’s girlfriend. To be the only person cheering for him could be a bad look at best, suggestive at worst.

‘Breathe.’

Mal wondered if she was going crazy or if she really was the only person who understood there were stakes to this duel. She wasn’t entirely sure what they were, but Carlos fought like he had something to lose. That’s the only explanation she had for this new version of him fighting the King of Auradon with everything he was made of.

‘Breathe. This is the last round.’

She chewed the corner of her lip as Ben overpowered Carlos. The metal slid on metal, the cutting sound ripping through the courtyard. Her ears rang. Carlos swept their swords in a circle, twisting them overhead until they untangled and separated. Ben spun away but quickly regained his footing.

Jay called halt.

And they did.

She deflated, releasing the breath she’d been holding. Getting through tonight’s dinner party now would be nothing compared to standing through this duel. She might even get a decent meal down in pure relief that the comparative worst was over.

Except she was wrong about the worst. That wasn’t it.

This was — the moment Carlos lunged forward. Their swords connected. Over the metallic ringing, gasps and exclamations rose up from the crowd. Belle put her silk gloved fingers over her mouth in shock.

“Carlos!” The sharping clanging of metal on metal drowned out Jay’s voice.

The boys resumed their fight with Ben parrying a strike out to the side. He backed up, clearly uncertain of what to do.

Beast turned around to look at someone Mal couldn’t see. “Get the guards!”

Her stomach dropped to her feet. No, no, she wouldn’t let them do anything to Carlos. He was a VK, one of her VKs. He was her friend. Carlos was the only person lately who made her feel listened to, who supported her, who she felt she could be honest with. She loved Ben, and she was willing to play the game, attend Royal Council meetings, and smile at cameras just to stand at his side. But the moment she had to jump through the hoop of allowing castle guards to arrest Carlos, then the game was over, and it was on.

“Wait!” Ben cried, but not to Carlos. He’d extended his free hand, palm facing his father. The nervous jostling and muttering of the audience died down.

Lowering his hand, Ben seemed to address his opponent. “What’s the meaning of this?!”

One step, then another, Carlos exited the defined lines of the dueling strip as he circled Ben. Holding his arms out, he declared, “This match deserves a victor!”

He pointed his sword in the direction of Ben’s chest. “So forget the rules. You wanted a fight, and I’m giving you one!”

Mal watched as Ben shuffled his weight between his feet, ready to go. “You’re on!”

They were back at it. Swords thrusted and parried while they circled, trying to get their opponent’s weak side. They became blurs, their movements so small and quick. They were relentless.

Mal imagined she could stop the fight if she’d forced her way into the arena and yelled at them, specifically Carlos. She imagined politely excusing them from the party then shoving him into an empty room. In her mind, she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and demanded to know how the hell the smartest person she knew could be so fucking dumb.

Anger, Mal found, was a great coping mechanism for worry. ‘Carlos, what the hell?! You’re going to undo everything I’ve been working on! Or worse, they’re going to throw you back on the Isle! But no, you just had to go show off your new hot guy streak in front of all of Auradon!’

Because it was hot. Despite her blood pumping in her ears and fingernails digging into her palms, deep down, she loved watching him openly break the rules. He was doing exactly what she daydreamed about doing. When she was a kid, the stakes were so much lower. Back then, she risked almost nothing when she stole her morning coffee before school, or when she cheated on her tests (it was encouraged, really). Being rebellious as an adult had risks and consequences she didn’t dare tango with. She could lose everything good to ever happen to her.

‘Why are you doing this?’ she silently asked Carlos, whose blade deflected a forward attack. ‘What is risking everything going to get you?’

The ringing and scraping of metal grated on her nerves.

Carlos advanced on Ben with his sword cutting in downward diagonals, forcing Ben on the defensive. She heard King Charming remark, “That’s a good moulinet” to his pre-teen daughter.

He swung straight out, high enough for Ben to duck low. The VK stiffened, seemingly realizing how he’d left nearly his whole body open to his opponent. Ben saw his chance and swung out without connecting, warning Carlos to retreat. He took the hint and leapt backward. Before Carlos regained his footing, Ben sprung from his crouched position, and blades caught.

Ben seized his forearm and drove an unsteady Carlos back nearly to the hedges. He forced the blades back down to the ground. Mal saw Ben’s white-knuckled hold on Carlos’ sword arm and realized he was trying to make him lose his grip.

If Ben won, then this would be over, and people might not be so angry. She could smooth things out for Carlos. And yet, she felt dizzy with worry about him losing. This mattered to him, so Mal wanted Carlos to win.

Except Ben had not realized he’d put Carlos’ blade on top. The other boy grasped Ben’s sword arm to keep him in place as he lifted his sword back, pulling away to successfully escape his opponent’s grip.

Then Carlos swung his sword hilt toward Ben’s cheek.

The young king caught the other boy’s arm again, halting the blow inches from its target.

Mal couldn’t believe her eyes. She didn’t know if Ben was gasping for breath or laughing.

She learned it was the latter when she heard it in his voice. “You can give it, but can you take it?”

Carlos realized what he meant before she did. Maybe he felt Ben’s sword arm, still in his grasp, twist right before swinging the flat side toward Carlos’ leg. His leg moved back just in time.

With two feet back, his stance was as weak as ever. With a roar, Ben summoned his strength, pulled Carlos by his sword arm, and threw him across the court.

‘NO!’ The words stuck in her throat as she clutched at her hair. Her mind ran through spells, trying to find something to save him. He rolled over the red clay court with a pained cry. She willed him to drop the sword, lose the fight. ‘Stop putting yourself in danger!’

This turn of events snapped someone out of it. “GO CARLOS!”

Heads turned toward Evie, who clapped as loudly as her lace gloves allowed. Even Doug stared at her in apprehensive surprise.

Mal looked to where Carlos had stopped and was dazedly finding his way to his feet. She could stand it no longer and began clapping madly. “C’MON, CARLOS!” She ignored the tight-lipped look from Belle. “Don’t give up!”

She wondered if she’d imagined a change come over him. He didn’t rush at Ben. Instead, he seemed to return to the rational Carlos she knew. She could see what others might interpret as hesitation to instead be him formulating a new plan of attack. At least, that’s what she hoped.

‘End this,’ she willed him. ‘Win your duel, then get ready to give me a really good explanation.’

Ben, perhaps satisfied that Carlos was not injured, made the first advance. He swung, but Carlos stepped aside. Another swipe and another dodge by an inch followed. Carlos did this a third time before satisfied with their position on the court. Or maybe he was waiting for the right attack, one level with his chest.

That’s when Carlos acted unexpectedly. When Ben attacked, Carlos spun on his foot. Simultaneously, he arched is sword arm over his head and, with a twist of his body, deflected the offending blade.

And suddenly, Ben’s sword was at his right, and his opponent was on his unguarded left. When Ben turned his head toward Carlos, he was looking down the blade pointed at his neck.

There was a good foot of distance, but Ben let his sword clatter to the ground in surrender.

A few people clapped politely but stiltedly, clearly confused if they should at all. Without turning her head, Mal observed Belle touching her husband’s arm and asking him to, “Please stay calm.”

She didn’t wait to hear what he growled back his wife. Finding an opening in the hedge to enter onto the court, Mal realized Evie was already ahead of her and nearly reached the trio of boys. Jay had thrown an arm around Carlos’ neck the moment he took off his face guard.

“Carlooos! Where’ve you been hiding that?! That was awesome!”Jay gave the smaller boy an excited shake, causing Carlos to hold on for dear life to a muscled forearm.

Ben, face mask discarded to reveal his bright red nose and smiling face, said, “That was the best duel of my life! Are you okay? I was worried maybe I took things too far.”

Evie set a reassuring hand on Ben’s bicep and, to Mal’s surprise, didn’t look remotely grossed out getting sweat on her glove. “You were both incredible. But next time, don’t worry me so much.” Even she smiled, even if in relief.

Mal stepped around a couple of servants gathering the discarded face guards and swords. Carlos noticed her first and shoved Jay’s arm over his head. He ran his fingers through his hair. The sight of him with his hair pushed back and black roots on display made her forget her plans to drag him away for a scolding — for now.

Looking from Mal to Evie, he quietly said, “Thanks — for cheering for me.” He choked up, but he kept his expression stoic. There were too many eyes for being too outwardly emotional.

Evie melted. “Oh Carlos.” She stepped toward them and pulled the trio into a hug.

“I’m really sweaty!” he tried warning her, but it was pointless. Nothing trumped their friendship, especially not sweat on fancy clothes.

Once again, Mal had to silently thank Evie for unknowingly allowing her to do exactly what she’d wanted to do. She leaned her head first into the taller girl’s shoulder then to his. She could smell him. She wondered why she liked that so much. Letting her head rest for just a second, she felt his arm around her quivering. Then she paid attention to the arm she’d put around his back and realized he was shaking.

Evie abruptly let go and took a step back. Mal and Carlos were a solid second late in pulling away from each other when a collection of approaching footsteps on the court made them turn around. King Beast, his wife, and a pair of guards had approached the group.

“That was quite the duel,” the man said with clearly forced evenness. “It’s unfortunate that it couldn’t be called honorable. Some people just don’t know how to win without cheating.”

Belle must have asked him to not make a scene, Mal surmised. His jaw was so tense, he barely moved his mouth to speak.

“Dad,” Ben stepped in, imploring like a kid, “I asked Jay and Carlos to help me brush up on my swordplay.”

Belle, hand on the inside crook of Beast’s arm, squeezed his bicep and gave an encouraging smile for her husband to behave.

The broad-chested man continued, “Even so, Ben, villainous behavior isn’t acceptable in Auradon. You’ll have to learn to stamp down that kind of behavior in people before they become a problem.”

From the corner of her eye, Mal glanced at Carlos to find his jaw clamped shut. She wondered if between his shaking and his silence, he’d realized he’d fucked up.

Her hand grasped his arm as she smiled at the former king. “And Auradon has been such a great influence on Carlos! I mean—” she forced a smile and crinkled her eyes “—he was always a good kid back on the Isle. He was the only person I knew who didn’t steal candy from babies or vandalize other people’s property. And he’s been volunteering at a dog shelter—”

“Mal, please be quiet,” the older man commanded her.

Her teeth ground together as her smile stayed fixed in place. Carlos stiffened beside her, and he sharply inhaled as if about to say something.

King Beast pointed a thick finger at Carlos. “Behavior that puts my son at risk is unacceptable. I’m having you removed from my castle, and I’ll be having a talk with the Fairy Godmother.”

“Your Majesty!” It was Evie’s throaty voice, but she wasn’t addressing Beast. Every eye in the courtyard turned toward the blue-adorned young woman, and she looked at Ben.

Her hands were held out to him with palms upward, beseeching. “King Ben,” she said more levelly now that she had everyone’s attention. “The former king is upset with Carlos for breaking the rules. You were a participant in that duel, and you’re the highest authority here.”

Ben stared at her with wide blue eyes, and she stared back with purpose. Mal recognized her best friend knew exactly what she was doing.

“What do you rule on the matter?” Evie asked him.

Ben looked at nothing but her for a moment before blinking, seemingly coming to, before looking at the rest of them. Speaking assuredly, he said, “Guards, please return to your posts.”

The guards did so without hesitation. Before his father could start, Ben rushed to continue, “When Carlos made it clear he wanted to continue the duel, I signaled that I was willing too.”

Belle frowned worriedly. “Ben, he nearly hurt you.”

“I chose that risk by requesting a duel,” Ben said, more certain than Mal had ever heard him in a Royal Council meeting. “This was my choice.”

He walked over to Carlos, and with Mal between them, they shook hands in front of her. “Great match.”

“Same,” Carlos gruffly managed, still stiff.

“And you deserved more than just Mal and Evie cheering for you,” Ben said with a purposeful look at his parents. “I’m sorry you’ve been treated so poorly as my guest.”

Mal’s heart warmed toward Ben, and she wanted to throw her arms around him for being so good. She wanted to snake her hands up on to his shoulders and say how proud she was of him for standing up to his father. She’d watched him struggle in Royal Council meetings to assert his authority and now here he was, acting like a king. It was pretty hot.

‘Maybe you should duel more often if this is the result.’

Ben’s parents shared looks and seemed to have a silent conversation before Belle looked at Carlos and said, “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Mal didn’t see his reaction. She was too busy observing the big smile Ben threw Evie’s way, the smile she’d assumed would be hers to keep.

“Thank you, but I need to go,” Carlos said, his voice deep and croaking from dehydration. “Your hair looks nice, by the way, Your Majesty.”

“Oh,” Belle started, smiling to herself and delicately touching the curls pinned to her head. “Thank you.”

Seeing her chance, Mal jumped at it. “I’ll show Carlos the way out.” She released his arm to condescendingly pat his shoulder. “And the quickest path back to Auradon Prep. He and Jay probably took the longest way here. Men and directions, right?”

The old person humor worked. While Belle and Beast chortled and nodded in agreement, she wasted no time seizing Carlos’ arm again and tugging him to follow after her. She released him and walked ahead toward the same set of stairs she’d emerged from. The footmen opened the double doors for them, and she glanced back without breaking stride. Seeing Carlos following closely behind set her at ease.

Emerging into the brightly lit hall made her realize just how dark it was getting outside. As her eyes adjusted, she looked for servants and guards who might be watching, listening. She saw a pair of butlers carrying serving trays walking past them, toward the courtyard. Her heels tapped faster on the blue carpet running the length of every hallway.

She turned down another hall. A maid gasped and jumped out of her way, apologizing. The frills on the woman’s white apron fluttered in the breeze Mal left behind her.

She made another turn and another, ways that had more servants who seemed surprised to see a guest in their area.

“Mal—” she heard Carlos start, but she didn’t let him continue.

“Shut up and follow me.”

Several more minutes of walking passed before she threw open a servant’s exit, and they emerged into the muted light of a greenhouse sparsely lit by solar lights dotting the pathways. Carlos shut the door behind them, and finally, the life and busyness of the castle melted away.

Heels clicking on the cobblestone, Mal slowed down to a stop. Giant, lush plants rose from the soil outlining the stone pathway circling a corkscrew willow. This was a comparatively small greenhouse which had been repurposed as a servant entrance. Her fingerless evening gloves brushed over the curled, bright green leaves as she, for the first time since the duel started, relaxed.

Carlos was safe.

She rounded on him. “What were you thinking?” she hissed, going right up to him.

His eyes went blank with surprise. “I—” he swallowed “—I just—”

“Just what? Carlos, you attacked the King of Auradon,” she hissed, quiet in case anyone should appear from behind the door. “And you’re lucky he’s the nicest guy alive, or else your ass would be on the first boat back to the Isle.”

He swallowed again and took a deep gulping breath. “I wanted to win,” he confessed without looking directly at her. “I wanted to prove — to prove that I can win. That they—”

Mal took his face in her hands and made him look directly at her. “Why did you need to win so badly?”

“Because—” Words were failing him. Mal couldn’t tell if he knew or if saying it was really so hard.

But he didn’t give up. “Because they’ve been winning our whole lives, and we’ve always lost. I wanted to prove they weren’t better than us.”

Her thumb idly rubbed a circle on his cheek. He had a way for making her feel the most compassionate she’d ever felt in her life. She hated to think this is what Carlos carried on his back every day, that sense of being viewed as less than.

“Remember what I told you? That I feel sorry for everyone who isn’t us?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Every word.”

She nodded, her throat constricting with emotion. “Good.” Clearing her throat, she went on, “But you can’t take how you feel out on Ben. Got it?”

He straightened up, and her hands dropped from his face as something intense flashed in his eyes. “Did he ever apologize?” he asked, searching her face. “For making you cry?”

“No.” Mal shrugged, uncomfortable revisiting that fight at the picnic. “But I haven’t apologized for not being completely honest either.”

Fiercely, he asked, “Why should you have to apologize first?”

Maybe it’s because fairies had a knack for reading humans, but Mal experienced lightning bolt clarity of Carlos’ motivations in that moment. He could say what he wanted, but he’d won that duel for her. He hadn’t been thinking clearly because of his motivation — her. He fought and defeated the King of Auradon in his own palace, in front of the noble families of Auradon, for Mal.

It was flattering, to say the least. When knights did that, it got them the favor of the princess. When head henchmen or henchwenches did that, it got them the lover position.

She considered touching his face, arm, or shoulders, but the idea became too incendiary. Their private conversation, umbrellaed by the vines crawling up the domed glass ceiling, seemed risky enough.

“You let me deal with my relationship,” she decided to say. “Because I’m serious. If Ben wasn’t king, you’d be back to living at your mom’s house.”

Carlos cringed and looked away. “I’d rather live on the streets.”

The very idea made Mal upset, grabbing his arm. ‘Why can’t I stop doing that?’

As he looked at her with wide eyes, she said, “You’d live at the Bargain Castle. I bet no one’s touched it, because they were all terrified of my mom. You’d stay in our apartment over the castle shop. You’d have to use my old room, ‘cause the leak in Mom’s ceiling has probably gotten worse. My room’s window unit is only good for the fan, but hey, maybe you could fix it—”

“Mal,” he interrupted. “I’m not going back to the Isle.” He stared, visibly confused at her reaction. When he looked down at her hand, she released him as if burned. Her hands clasped behind her waist so she’d stop touching him.

“Of course not,” she said, playing it off like she’d not been seriously imagining him with nowhere to go.

Silence fell between them as he looked around the dimly lit greenhouse then checked his phone. Concerned he might say he needed to leave, Mal said, “I heard you compliment Belle.” She smirked. “So tell me three things.”

“Uh—” It took him a second ”—oh.” His cellphone slipped back into his pocket. “Yeah. I thought her outfit was boring. I’ve seen T-shirt dresses with better tailoring. The rose stitching was boring.” His eyes landed on Mal’s dress. “And she needs to stop trying to make that shade of yellow happen.”

“It’s one thing to have a signature,” he continued, “and another to force it on everyone.” He pinched the fabric of Mal’s skirt and gave it a swish, making her heart skip. “Blue and yellow are all over this place like some kind of plague. You look great, though.”

Mal giggled maliciously hearing him be mean. “And what about Beast? Did you check out those old rags?”

“Nah, I was kind of too worked up.” He frowned. “I did have one thought, but - uh - maybe I should just—”

“Nooo now you have to tell me,” she insisted, smiling like a Cheshire Cat and taking a step closer into his personal space.

“I—” He rubbed the back of his neck “—I might have thought in his other form, he’d make a bad coat but maybe not a half-bad rug.”

The singular laugh that jumped from her throat was too loud in that greenhouse. “Oh my gosh, you De Vil! You didn’t!”

He shrugged, blushing while she dissolved into giggles. ‘Damn,’ she thought. She adored him.

“I really do need to get back,” he confessed, frowning. “I’ve got a big project and days to do it.”

“What is it? I’ll give you some magical help.” How could she not offer her services to a guy who’d duel like that for her?

“Thanks, but I need to do this by hand.”

Crossing her arms, Mal shook her head at him and grinned. “Yeah, some problems just need a hand.”

Carlos tilted his head, confused, then shook it. “I’ll see you around, Mal. If you need to have dinner without cameras and reporters speculating on why you didn’t eat your vegetables, ask Jay.”

“Except if I need someone in the middle of the night,” she amended for him. “Then I should sneak over to your bed.”

She watched him pause, seeming to almost catch her insinuation before dodging by an inch. Mal couldn’t figure out if he was purposefully avoiding the blaring neon lights she’d plugged in for him or if he really was that dumb.

Then Mal wondered what she really was suggesting and realized yeah, she did want to fool around with Carlos. She wanted to suggest a post-duel massage — after he showered — or before? She wasn’t sure. Mal was sure this wasn’t the same kid who ran screaming from an ankle-biting dog. He wasn’t the guy who single-handedly depleted the chocolate fountain on Parents’ Day their first year. No, this guy was a rebel. Even his nerdy side was suddenly hot to her. Maybe now she wanted something in violet, like a jacket or shirt, with lime green Dalmatian spots.

“Hey Mal, maybe I’m completely wrong, but do you think things have been weird between us lately?”

Slowly, her face brightened with a toothy grin. “I think things between us have been great.”

“I—” Words failed him. He pressed his lips together, then settled on, “I need to go work on something.”

He took a step toward her then jolted to a stop with his arms half-raised. While he awkwardly hesitated, Mal wondered what he wanted to do. She waited, but he stepped back, mumbled ‘see you later,’ then left out the exit into the side garden, which would lead him to a path back to Auradon Prep. Mal, arms crossed, turned and watched him until the door clattered shut.

Mal knew she needed to do something about this, and that didn’t include ending it.

While Mal and Carlos had their clandestine garden chat, Evie was experiencing the utterly alien urge to leave a party early.

“Your parents are here?” she echoed him, except sounding substantially less excited.

“Yeah, I don’t see what the big deal is,” Doug said, clueless to his girlfriend’s feelings as he unfolded his dinner napkin.

Circular, white-clothed tables filled the expansive rose garden. Gold cutlery clinked on fine porcelain while servers went glass to glass, water and red wine pouring to the rim. Candles filled the center of each table, casting a rosy glow in the darkening courtyard.

Gentle conversations surrounded them, and Evie felt like her tense voice stuck out. “It’s not a big deal to you because they’re your parents.”

Their conversation paused while servers placed bowls of soup in front of them for the first course.

“Well, I’d still like you to meet them,” Doug insisted using his spoon to stir in the heavy cream garnish.

She let out a low, shaky breath. Quietly, hoping none of their tablemates were listening, Evie said, “One of my best friends was almost exiled.” She scooped some of the strange, pink soup onto her spoon and blew on it. “I don’t have the fortitude to meet your mother.”

Doug huffed a sigh, not understanding. His brow furrowed as he said, “But Ben smoothed everything over. Carlos wasn’t actually in any danger. It’s fine.”

She blew on her spoon again, pretending to be focused on eating while instead glancing through her long eyelashes at the other guests. Queen Ariel and her family were admiring the new knot their youngest daughter had mastered. Queen Rapunzel and her husband listened to their daughter Rachel tell some distracting story.

“I smoothed things over,” she said just over a whisper, her lips near the spoon as if to block her mouth from sight.

Doug quirked his head. “Well, you asked Ben what he thought, and he’s the king, so…”

Evie sighed and gave up. Doug had completely missed what happened. Ben did try speaking up, and his father spoke over him. Power wasn’t just in who was the declared king. She understood power also lied in perception, and she felt terrible watching Ben be robbed of his power when his father publicly condescended to him. To save Carlos and Ben, Evie had tilted the scales with her own hand.

“I’m stressed, and I’m not ready to meet your mother, especially not after what you’ve told me about her.”

A mother who loved the gems from the Dwarves’ mines more than her son and was notoriously on vacation during Parents’ Day every year.

“And when I do, I don’t want it to be so public.”

Taking a small sip of her soup, Evie hummed in surprise that was cold, creamy, and sweet yet tart. ‘Strawberry soup? They must be serving this for Mal.’ Again, Evie wondered how Mal could be struggling to be happy when even the kitchen planned the menu to her taste.

Doug paused then began nodding as if having an epiphany. “I guess I’d be upset if I had to meet your mom.”

Her soup spoon clinked on the bowl’s wide rim. “What do you mean?”

“She’s the reason you were on the Isle.” He finally began speaking as quietly as she did. “Maybe I have a problem with her like you seem to with my mom.”

A protective anger rose up in Evie that trembled in her shoulders as she sat straight-backed in her chair. “My mother is not the reason I was on the Isle.” She thought of Beast and the castle guards advancing on Carlos. “She’s the reason I survived. She loves me.”

Her mother’s love didn’t involve freshly baked cookies or whatever the idea of maternal perfection was in Auradon. But, her mother always made it clear she wanted her daughter to live a better life than the squalor she was born into. When they were put under a decade long house arrest by Maleficent for not inviting Mal to a six-year-old Evie’s birthday party, her mother kept them alive.

‘Gaunt cheeks don’t suit you at all, my dear,’ her mother had said before giving her the larger share of the stale croissant that was to be their breakfast.

‘Evie, go out on the balcony for some fresh air and just a little bit of sun. You’re looking…unwell,’ her mother once said upon finding her daughter had lain in misery in the same spot all day. The former queen’s long, red nails had slowly brushed the tangles from her hair, because they were too destitute to offer anything else.

“She loves me.”

Her eyes burned, and Evie knew she needed to leave before she caused a scene. Re-folding her napkin and ignoring a verbally floundering Doug, she abruptly stood up and bumped into into a servant holding an open wine bottle. Red wine splashed onto her dress. The activity at their table and the surrounding ones died as everyone gaped at the dark red poured down her front and legs.

Evie felt the eyes on her. It was mortifying. This was an exclusive dinner party in the grandest castle in all of Auradon, the type of evening she’d dreamed of as a child, and her dress was ruined.

Taking a breath, she raised herself to her full height, put a hand on the back of Doug’s chair, and calmly said, “I’ll be right back.”

“M-mademoiselle, I apologize—” the server stuttered, but Evie held up a gentle hand to silence him. The terrified look on his face made her feel sorry for him. She wondered if he feared being fired.

“It’s an honest mistake,” she said kindly, her compassion briefly overriding her humiliation and helping her to exit the dinner party with some dignity.

The red wine soaked through her dress, chilling her stomach and chest. She ascended a set of stairs without real thought of where she was going so long as it was away from curious and pitying princes, princesses, and their parents. A footman opened one side of a double-door for her as she hurried through. When the door closed behind her, she breathed easier.

And then she slumped miserably. This was her first invitation to a proper dinner party, welcomed among the nobility as if she really was a princess, and now look at her. She already felt stupid enough wearing a hat, which now served as a shield from the eyes of servants passing by. Evie began walking, as she vaguely knew where the guest restroom to be from using it during the coronation after party. Some attempt at cleaning up had to be made, even if she knew her dress was ruined. Yet, Evie thought maybe she could be resourceful, as she’d always done, and figured something out.

“Evie,” her name was called somewhere above her.

She followed the sound to the stairs, where Ben quickly descended. As he approached her, his step lively, she noticed his skin aglow and hair wet from a shower. He dressed in a blue suit with the sash and gold buttons. The crown was absent, but Evie knew hats and accessories, including crowns, should never be used on anything other than dry hair.

“Perfect timing,” he said, smiling and taking her hands in greeting. “Do you have a minute?”

She found herself feeling lighter and nodding, allowing herself to be led up the stairs he’d just descended. He led her down a hallway with no footmen or maids then through a door, where the fresh air and gentle rumble of the dinner party enveloped them. They’d entered onto a private terrace. Massive columns rose between sections of the balustrade, lined with golden candelabras. Vases stuffed with red roses and a grand tapestry depicting a white castle in a pine forest decorated the space.

Evie learned quickly Ben’s intentions were indeed of a very private matter as he turned to face her without releasing hands. “This is perfect. I was trying to figure out how to get you alone.”

“Why?” she heard herself stupidly asking instead. Obviously, Evie knew they had much to discuss. Her thoughts were simply distracted by whatever citrusy cologne he’d used after his shower.

“Because it was driving me crazy when I couldn’t openly talk to you earlier.” He released her hands so he could begin excitedly pacing. “The report says the Magic Mirror is where we found it, which makes sense, because I used the museum’s online database before we snuck in.”

“And they don’t have the damage recorded.” Evie crossed her arms, understanding as well as Ben why they’d neglect that, but then that was the new question. “Did they mean to omit the damage or did they assume it was in good condition? Maybe it was dropped in transport? It was boarded up when we found it. Maybe they assumed it was in perfect condition, because as far as they knew, it was still boarded up.”

Ben stopped. His shoulders hunched as he stared at the ground with a darkening expression.

“Ben?”

He gulped breath then raised his head. “It wasn’t dropped. The impact had been at the center.” A somber expression passed over his face. “When I was little, my dad once got so mad, he punched a wall. The cracks and broken pieces were just like that wall.” He quickly amended, “But my dad hasn’t done that again since. My mom has always said his temper is a work-in-progress, and she’s done him a lot of good.”

Evie nodded without knowing what to think of that or Ben’s insinuation. “So you think someone attacked the Mirror?” When he succinctly nodded, she asked, “Why would anyone do that? The Mirror can’t do anything on its own, and only my mother can use it. The Spirit is her familiar and will only listen her.”

His hand gestured toward her. “And you, probably because you’re her daughter. I think it’s likely that someone destroyed the Mirror, and then it was boarded up and dumped in the basement,” Ben deduced, blinking and looking around as if he didn’t realize where he stood.

Evie felt similarly, but she couldn’t readily believe the dark implications. “How do we know someone didn’t break into the Museum, destroy the Mirror, then board it back up?”

“Because while I took the lid off, I noticed it had only been sealed once. I also think I damaged your tweezers, because those screws didn’t come out easily. They’ve been in there for a while.”

A chill went up her arms, causing her to tightly hug herself. The unfortunate result was to press the wet part of her dress closer to her skin. When she shivered, Ben’s eyes darted down her form, and he reacted with a start.

“Your dress!” He withdrew a white handkerchief with gold thread from his waistcoat. “I’m so sorry. What happened?”

Embarrassed, she accepted the handkerchief with a tight smile and began dabbing it on her dress’ front. Nothing could save it, but it’d be nice to soak up some of the wine. “Very bad luck. I guess the horns weren’t enough to ruin my night.”

“Speaking of,” he began, looking at her hat, “As much as I want to investigate what we found in the museum’s basement, I want to focus on you.”

Evie looked up from the berry red splatter on her dress and found him earnestly watching her.

“Friday night, we’re going to the Isle,” he said decidedly, as if still trying to convince her she wouldn’t be going alone.

She let out a breath, relaxing. “Yeah, we are.”

Seeing him duel, aggressive yet level-headed, had convinced her enough. Much as she thought she’d respected him, seeing that duel, she’d come to recognize her misguided doubt in his abilities. Of course she worried, but she also had substantially more faith in Ben now. Her mission to find the Magic Mirror would have ended similarly to the Core Four’s attempt at the Fairy Godmother’s wand if not for him.

The sweet singing of a violin and cello floated up from the party below as the musicians began warming up.

His face lit up at her agreement that they were both going. “So did the duel change your mind? What’d you think?”

She giggled demurely. “Hmm,” she pretended to think, “You’re very strong.” Fearful as she’d been for Carlos, she had to admire Ben’s unwavering grip on his blade and ability to one-handedly throw his opponent.

“You’re surprisingly forward.” She folded the handkerchief to hide away in her pocket. She’d wash, possibly bleach, and return it later.

He grinned boyishly. “No one ever said subtlety was my strong suit.”

“Mmm,” she hummed. Music started up below, and she wished she didn’t have to leave early. She was having so much fun.

“Your footwork, though,” she acted like she was still judging him. “The only way to judge that is by dancing."

Grinning even wider, more brightly, Ben bowed then offered his hand. “In that case, may I?”

“Oh!” Evie realized she’d set them up perfectly without understanding her own motive. She wondered if she meant to do that and leaned toward yes, because she wanted to dance with him. At every event that ended in dancing, Ben had proved himself to be a natural dancer, mindful of his partner’s steps and, most importantly, her toes. She’d never had a chance to go a song or two with him. Normally, if she wanted an exceptional dance partner, she’d sought out Carlos. But now, she could have Ben.

Her hand gravitated toward his, yet it stopped midair. “But I can’t dance with this hat.”

Straightening up and looking around, Ben held up a finger. “Leave it to me.” He trotted over to one of the gleaming suits of armor guarding the door. “If I may,” he playfully said to the lifeless figure before carefully taking the dull sword from its grip to slip between the double doors’ handles, effectively barring the door.

Returning to Evie, he lightheartedly asked, “May I take your hat, Princess?”

She smiled bashfully, half of her wanting to correct him that she wasn’t a princess in anyone’s eyes except her mother’s. Yet, another part of her asked who was she to correct the King when he called her a princess?

Gingerly, her fingers pulled her hat from her head and offered it to him. Ben handled her wide-brimmed hat with care as he returned to the suit of armor and set it atop the smooth helmet.

Turning back to her, he jovially declared, “Maybe I should have all of the suits of armor redecorated like that.”

She giggled, even if weakly. Her hands ran through her hair and over the protruding horns as if she could flatten both. Being without a hat left her feeling exposed, terrified someone would see her and expose her.

Seeing the way she self-consciously touched her horns, Ben said, “They’re really not that big. I was looking through a book on natives of the Border Lands and thought they kind of look like an impala’s. The horns really don’t look bad on you. Maybe you’re just so beautiful—” He paused, clearly thinking he’d say more than hitting the end of his statement like a brick wall.

The words echoed in her head.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“I mean, I have eyes,” Ben said, rubbing the back of his neck. He then straightened up, bowed, and offered his hand again. “May I?”

Her hand fingertips had almost grazed his palm when she pulled back. “Oh no, Ben, what if the stain on my dress—”

Ben was already unbuttoning and shrugging off his blue suit jacket. His lips pressed together determinedly as he freed himself before swinging it over her shoulders. With his help, Evie put her arms through the sleeves and felt the wonderfully warm silk lining envelope her. He let her button up the front, effectively covering the worst of the stain. She could still smell his cologne on the jacket.

“All right,” he said, taking a breath. “Third time’s the charm.” He offered his hand. “And no more excuses unless you don’t want to dance with me.”

With a matching smile, Evie placed her hand in his. Then his hand went high on her waist while her hand found his firm shoulder. Then, they danced.

She followed his lead, and Ben began slower the the music, allowing them to understand each other’s steps. Yet, they didn’t need it. They couldn’t stick to then slow pace before quickly keeping up with the music. She wondered if he was also experiencing some sort of immense relief in that moment.

He spun her and arched his arm to account for her horns. When her hand returned to his shoulder, she found him looking at her with a thoughtful frown.

At her inquisitive look, he explained, “I was just thinking how lucky it is you had to leave the party. If we weren’t up here, we wouldn’t be dancing.” He shortly laughed, adding, “Then I thought I should have declared only line dancing at the party.”

She looked at him like he was crazy but smiled nonetheless. “What?”

His smile grew, making him look charmingly goofy. “Yeah! And everyone would have to wear ten gallon hats, so you’d look normal compared to everyone else!”

She couldn’t help the laughter and tears. “Everyone would think you were crazy!”

Through laughter, he agreed, “Yeah, but no one would suspect you!”

They spun together, not matching the music as they laughed and danced. A sudden hopefulness blossomed in Evie’s chest that everything might end up all right. Her mother might have the answer. They might have no trouble visiting the Isle. They might unravel the mystery of the museum. Together, she and Ben might make everything right.

Friday had come.

Fireflies and the sweet scent of hyacinth floated in the night air around Evie, dressed in her blue Isle leathers with her hood secured over her horns. She’d had to create a new outfit entirely from pieces of her old ones, as she’d grown out of all of her Isle clothes. With only hours to assemble her outfit, Evie was grateful to her past self for not tossing the old clothes. Part of her had wanted to throw out the past, but nothing went to waste on the Isle, and she couldn’t tear herself from that lesson.

Before changing for her adventure, Evie had stopped by Mal’s room to say she’d be going to bed early. The blue-haired girl found her friend painting, though she’d declined sharing her work-in-progress.

“I’m out of practice, so it looks terrible,” she’d brushed Evie off.

Evie was confident Mal would be distracted for the evening and wouldn’t seek her out just to find her missing.

‘It’s just a few hours,’ she reminded herself while leaning against the brick wall of the dorms. She hid in the shadows of the building’s side, obscured by a trimmed, square bush.

‘I lived on the Isle for sixteen years,’ she told her beating heart. ‘It’ll be fine.’ A contentious part of her said she’d lived there, but she’d not known Isle half so well as her friends.

She wondered if it was too late to try grabbing Jay. ‘No, if things go badly, I don’t want to get him involved. The consequences should be all mine.’ Ben might be able to use his title to justify his actions, but a VK’s position in Auradon was precarious.

The slow, rumbling crunch of tires on white gravel told her Ben wasn’t one to leave a lady waiting. Leaning out from her hiding spot, she saw the black silhouette of a royal limousine stop short of the dorm’s bright lights.

Evie, herself a dark hooded figure, darted out. She stayed near the coverage of trees, away from the low ground lights dotting the curve in the road, until she was at the limousine, stripped of its royal flags and coat of arms. Yanking the handle, she popped open the door and slid smoothly into the passenger side with the door making a soft sound as she eased it shut.

In the dark limousine, Ben grinned at her with a mix of nerves and excitement. “Next stop is the Isle.”

“Not in that.” Evie held up the jacket she’d tightly folded over her arm. “You’re putting this on first.”

With a curious look at her, Ben complied by shedding his long-sleeved jacket, not one Evie had seen him wear before, and put on the new one. While he adjusted the shoulders and mid-section, Evie realized his entire outfit was new. He’d actually bought new clothes just to sneak around with her.

He leaned back in the driver’s seat and admired the blue leather with metal studs, but before he could begin complimenting her work, Evie said, “Ben, I want you to know how grateful I am. I never meant to ask this much of you, but you have been so — incredible.”

Ben looked up from the jacket to her, and the way his blue eyes examined her, seeking to understand her, left Evie still and waiting.

Then with certainty, he gently told her, “Everything’s going to be okay.”

She didn’t know why that choked her up, but it did. She breathed in and asked, “You’re not nervous about the Isle or meeting my mother?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Why would I be nervous meeting your mother? I mean, I probably won’t accept any apples she offers me, but otherwise, I actually want to meet her. People are more than their reputations.”

Ben placed one hand on the steering wheel and another to shift into drive. “I want to meet your mother and form my own opinions.”

Evie leaned back into her seat and buckled up. Staring unseeingly at the glove box, she asked, “What’s your opinion of her right now?”

“That for all of the bad things in her life, she’s lucky.” The limousine began rounding the drive and picking up speed away from Auradon Prep. “Because she had you.”

Warmed and put at ease by his words, Evie rested her hands in her lap and realized she was, strangely, beginning to enjoy their adventure. The same optimism from the other night, dancing with him, returned to lighten the weight in her chest.

“By the way, I left some reading in the glove box.”

“Hm?” Flicking the latch, the box popped down to reveal just the light reading she’d been looking for — the Museum of Cultural History Collection Report.

Chapter Text

The night flew past on the sloping hills that angled down toward Belle Harbor. The seaside skyline was softly dotted with glowing electric lights imitating old-fashioned gas lamps. The beam of a lighthouse just down the coast circled in the sky like a racing clock hand. Evie remembered watching that same light beam, a thin line from the shores of the Isle.

And soon, it would appear like that again.

‘Are you sure?’ She wanted to trick herself into thinking that question was for Ben.

The limousine rolled smoothly over the newly paved streets, the same ones where a carriage had carried Ben and Mal up to Castle Beast for the coronation. Evie hoped the remaining villains weren’t still so set on uprooting Auradon after Maleficent’s failure.

Guiding them gently downhill, past the closed storefronts, Ben asked, “So, what’s the plan when we get there? Will I have to parallel park this thing?”

A tiny laugh escaped her, and she leaned back on the headrest. “I don’t think so. There’s sort of a small area, I don’t think you could call it a plaza, where people leave the junk that no one wants. It’ll be right there when we drive in.”

“Perfect!” Ben said, clearly trying to maintain enthusiasm to combat nerves. “And then we’ll go find your mom. Do you think she’ll be home? She won’t be visiting friends or going to a book club, bingo, or—”

“People don’t do things like that on the Isle, Ben.” Though the image of her mother in a sewing circle with Lady Tremaine and Mad Madame Mim did amuse her. “Unless she’s getting a trim or stopping by the bakery, she’ll be home.”

The road ran alongside the rocky beach and docks now. They went away from the lighthouse, whose light faded in the direction of the destroyed Isle bridge.

Evie’s mind was still lingering on the bridge when Ben conversationally asked, “So which villain runs the bakery? Oogie Boogie?”

She scoffed. “If that was the case, no one except the goblins would buy from him.”

“Bug juice custards? Super sour-dough?” Ben suggested, making himself smile.

Evie giggled, adding, “Moldy-to-imperfection baguettes? But really, it’s ran by the baker who married Anastasia Tremaine. When people were put on the Isle, she didn’t want her mother and sister to have to fend alone, so she and her husband went with them.”

Even in the shadows of the car’s interior, she could see his amusement morph into surprise and sadness as he comprehended the situation. That was something she adored about Ben. When it came to people, he led with his heart to understand them.

‘If he’s just given the chance.’ Evie thought of Mal. She’d tried staying out of their relationship and only be a listening ear when asked. Except, not knowing where they stood with each other killed her. She wanted so badly to ask either of them if they’d talked and made up since their argument at the picnic. Together, he hardly mentioned Mal, but that didn’t mean much when they were focused on issues not involving her. And when she saw Mal, the other girl acted short and closed off.

‘Maybe she said something to Carlos.’ That he’d not already come to her on the brink of tears and frustration from working on Mal’s dress surprised her. But, she also figured working for his mother might have given him thicker skin when it came to fashion.

“But didn’t Lady Tremaine oppose the marriage?” Ben asked, voice soft as his mind wandered to the past. “And Anastasia still loved her enough to go into exile with her? But, Lady Tremaine didn’t even try to change for her. So why would Anastasia do that?”

Evie thought of her mother, building her a life from dust and simultaneously critiquing even an eyebrow hair out of place.

“Because sometimes, love is complicated.”

They took another turn, and they were well away from Belle Harbor now. The car’s headlights skimmed over an overgrown dirt road with parallel bald spots in the grass suggesting old tire tracks to guide them. No one went this way anymore. Shortly, they entered into a dirt clearing of broken shipping containers, trash, and a dilapidated brick gate whose eye framed the Isle of the Lost.

Ben stopped the limousine with the front tires in the soaring arched opening. He took a deep breath and slowly released in. “Ready?”

Evie’s fingers dug into the Collection Report on her lap. She hated this part, possibly from the trauma of her first crossing, when the Core Four cried out in fear of being driven into the sea.

“Ready.”

Ben unfolded the driver side visor and clicked an inconspicuous magi-device. Then, Evie held her breath as they drove forward and off solid ground. The sea beneath them looked inky black under the overcast sky. Not even the stars shined. From their perspective, they drove through utter darkness toward a faint silhouette on the horizon.

Neither said anything as Ben focused on the path cut for them by magic. Evie silently wondered, for the first time in her life, what was on the Isle before the villains? Did they really build that bridge just for the exodus then bomb it or magically erase it after? That made no sense when ferrying people would be faster and cost effective. It certainly wasn’t a magically made bridge; only human hands created with brick and cement. Magic bore marble and white stone.

‘This bridge must have pre-dated the exile of villains.’ Evie looked down at the report clutched in her hands. She had so many questions, and focusing on hers felt incredibly selfish as more things about Auradon made less sense to her.

Her stomach turned. Her fairy tale was crumbling.

They’d come so close to the Isle now that Evie could make out the gutted factory buildings and warehouses lining the north cliff. The Isle loomed over them as the limousine rolled through the large brick gate, swallowing them whole.

Unzipping her blue faux-leather jacket, she slipped the report inside and zipped it up for safe keeping. Ben, meanwhile, leaned over the wheel like an old lady while searching for a good place among stacks of discarded cardboard, too moldy or eaten up for use. He parked alongside a building and hid the car’s nose behind stacks of pallets.

He’d barely set the limousine in park when he declared, “All right, let’s go!” Ben had just eased himself toward the driver side door when Evie’s sudden grip on his jacket pulled him squarely back into his seat.

“First, ground rules.” She looked at him intently, the dark blue eyeliner emphasizing her narrowed eyes. “No smiling. No looking people in the eye. No saying hello to anyone and when I tell you to do something, don’t ask why, just do it.”

He grinned nervously. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her hand released his arm to point at the smile on his face. “I mean it, Ben. Don’t. Be. Yourself.”

He schooled his expression into a determined frown, which she worried was his attempt at scowling. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

They both popped out of the car with Evie turning her head every which way in the dark plaza while Ben hastily popped open the trunk. He attached a sheathed rapier to his belt, pulled the blue beanie over his head, and began covering the limousine with a crinkly black tarp. Evie helped him secure it at all four corners so a strong breeze from the sea might not blow it away.

Not satisfied, she found a torn piece of cardboard and dug her bright red lipstick from her purse. Much as she hated the idea of not being able to reapply, every precaution was necessary. She wrote, ‘Take it if you like BEDBUGS’ and propped it against where the driver side door would be under the tarp.

“You owe me a new lipstick,” she told Ben, more as a joke, considering he was here for her.

Rubbing his gloved hands together for warmth, for the Isle was noticeably cooler than the mainland, he said, “After we get out of here, I’ll buy every shade of red there is for you. How’s that for a celebration?”

“Let’s not pat ourselves on the back just yet.” Evie looked around again, this time not for suspicious shadows but to reorient herself.

Being back on the Isle was like finding a dress she’d not worn for years in the back of her closet. The garment hadn’t changed, but she had. While it was familiar, she didn’t know how well it would fit anymore.

“This way,” she said with half-certainty. When she’d ran around with the Core Four, she’d followed their lead. Mal had known every street, because her mother ran them. Jay and Carlos knew the roofs, fire escapes, sturdy ledges, and short cuts. Jafar’s son had known these due to being a thief and needing quick getaways. Cruella’s son had known these due to being bullied and needing hasty escapes.

They went down a narrow alley, their boots splashing in shallow puddles, created by the run off from clogged gutters. Evie’s hand twitched, wanting to protectively grab his.

“Stick close to me.”

Winding around another corner, she saw twinkling lights ahead and followed them. They emerged into what Evie recognized as the main street from the Christmas lights zigzagging overhead. Many had missing bulbs, but still, looking at their dull glow pulled at something in her chest. Someone could follow those lights all the way from main street and to the bazaar. The lights ended at the central square, where they outlined the plaza stretching out from the Bargain Castle.

That’s where the prettiness of the main street ended. Being so late, the night hid most of the ugliness of cracked and faded cement. Shoddily constructed shacks littered the curb on both sides, obscuring the faded brick and chipped wood window frames of people’s homes and shops. Evie observed shady figures loitering up and down the street with no destination in mind — thieves.

Her hand abruptly dug into Ben’s trouser pocket and dug out his wallet. Ignoring his stifled yelp of surprise, she shoved the wallet down her zipped up jacket.

“Hand in your pockets and hold onto the car keys,” she whispered.

His hands immediately went into his jacket pockets, and he shuffled closer to her.

Evie took a breath. ‘I’ve got this.’

Emerging onto the main street, Evie guided them down the center so they couldn’t be cornered in by anyone. The nervous churning of her stomach reminded her of her first day at Dragon Academy. At least she wasn’t hungry this time.

“Hey there, sir,” a rough, nasally voice caught her attention. She whipped around and found Ben had made eye contact with a trench-coat wearing, thrifted aviator-capped stranger with five o’clock shadow. “Fellow like you could use a—”

Before he could open his coat to reveal stolen wares, Evie stepped in front of Ben and hissed, “Beat it!” She felt wild. If this guy pushed it, she’d push him right into that shack selling broken ladders.

“Tch.” The man threw her a dirty look and grumpily shuffled off, not without throwing, “Bitch” over his shoulder.

Evie’s arm shot out, colliding with Ben as he tried rushing past her. “Ignore it.”

“But he just—!”

She twisted around and grabbed both of his arms, though his blue eyes watched the retreating stranger with a fury almost alien to his usual sweet self. “Ben, it’s normal around here.”

“Normal?!”

Her finger pressed over his lips, and he finally turned his bright eyes on her.

“While starting a fight is very VK of you, we’ve got somewhere to be. Understand?” When he gave a little nod, not enough to remove his lips from her fingertip, she smirked. “Good.”

Her hand dropped down to grab his and dragged him behind her. First hiccup: resolved.

They took a turn at the Slop Shop, doors closed as they served mostly morning fare. Except Evie took a second glance and realized it was no longer the Slop Shop but The Strange Brew. She supposed some witches, judging by the name, had acquired it from the goblins.

‘Maybe the Isle has a chance of having half-decent coffee now,’ she idly thought before wondering what else had changed.

“Is that how people talk to you here?” She felt Ben’s breath near her cheek as he spoke.

“Sometimes,” she said flippantly. No, she didn’t like it, but they needed to keep moving. “Forget it happened. I do.”

He squeezed her hand. “I can’t.”

She didn’t respond. She remembered her first day outside of the Castle Across the Way after the ten year exile. The leering faces of adults had crawled over her teenaged body. The Gaston twins had clamored for her attention and too quickly offered up their smelly lunches of meat and cheese, their motivations leaving her uneasy. Then, she remembered the way people misinterpreted her, calling her a flirt and a tart at sixteen-years-old. She tried to make herself forget it all, yet like Ben, she couldn’t.

“Evie?”

“Huh?”

“Why did we stop?”

She blinked and realized they had, right between Cauldron Repair and Hades’ Souvlaki, the latter ran by his lackeys Pain and Panic. The hand-painted sign next to the open door declared its souvlaki ‘Hot as Hades!’ The warm smell of aromatic spices brought her fully back to the present with Ben. They’d return to Auradon in a couple hours.

“That smells good,” Ben said, and she thought he might be trying to distract her. Even he must know now wasn’t the time for soul-searching conversations. “Should we grab a bite?”

“It’s too spicy for you — and me,” she added, not wanting to make him feel bad.

A tall figure ambled out of the souvlaki shop, and Evie recognized the young man biting half-charred meat off a stick. He’d grown broader and almost as strong as his father, but that was no doubt Gil, Gaston’s eldest son. The bright red hot sauce smeared on one side of his face as he sucked some off his ring finger. He carried a rusty sword similar to those she’d seen carried by Captain Hook’s crew. Now, Ben’s rapier suddenly stuck out.

And it did, because the gleaming metal sheath caught Gil’s eye as he chewed a thick bite while looking from the sword, to Ben, then to a collection of weather worn posters pasted to a wall. They all belonged to the Be Good poster campaign. Among the cartoon images of the Fairy Godmother saying, “Be good, for goodness sake!” and “King Beast Wants You to TRY to Have a NICE Day,” there was a hand drawn version of Ben and Mal, encouraging everyone to watch the upcoming Royal Cotillion.

Although, that’s not entirely what those posters looked like. Someone with some creative license gave the Fairy Godmother demon horns and made her declare everyone be bad. The former king had his eyes blacked out and “Down with Auradon” written across his face. Mal’s image had been almost completely scribbled out, the poster ripped in places from the force.

Unfortunately, Ben’s only had Xs drawn over his eyes and was still clearly him.

And Gil, despite his old test scores, could do the math.

He pointed his wooden skewer at Ben. “You look like that King guy.”

Evie’s mind raced for a solution, an excuse, something. If Gil, with his hulking frame and old sword, wanted to be a problem, she didn’t think she could stop him.

Ben shrugged. “I’m not that ugly.”

Gil laughed and sauntered down the sidewalk and off the curb, toward them. Evie thought he acted non-threatening for now, but she was waiting for the turn, for their thin ruse to fall apart.

“Yeah, no, you’re actually kinda hot.” Gil gave Ben the up-and-down.

Evie’s free hand delicately went over her mouth as she realized what Ben didn’t.

“Which, uhh—” Gil casually leaned his weight on one leg “—which crew are you with?”

“Uhh—”

Evie planted her free hand on her hip and forcefully said, “He’s one of Cruella De Vil’s models, so hands off unless you want your hands off.”

Gil stopped eyeing up Ben and instead seemed to notice Evie for the first time. “I thought you were in Auradon.”

He took another bite while she replied, “Can’t a girl visit her mom?” She tried distracting him by tilting her chin down and batting her eyelashes, but he barely noticed. Huffing, Evie added, “So buzz off and mind your own business.”

The taller boy shrugged and said an unbothered, “Whatever.” Walking past Ben, he elbowed the other boy’s arm and sharply nodded upward. “Hit me up sometime.”

Then Gil was on his way, and Evie could breath a sigh of relief. ‘Are we going to have a problem on every street?’ She didn’t need anymore mishaps. They’d take the quickest way she knew, and that meant taking a short cut.

“Um—” Ben grasped for a way to understand what just happened “— he was friendly.”

“A little too friendly.” She suppressed a smile. “You did a good job.”

Ben playfully bumped their arms together since he was trying not to smile in public. “Same to you. Do you really think I could model black and white?”

“With a pop of red,” she reminded him. “And yes.”

She led him down No Way, a narrow side street. In her lookout for more trouble, Evie noticed what hadn’t changed. They passed a chipped brick wall spray painted with the silhouette of Maleficent and proclamation “LONG LIVE EVIL.” Random beams and broken wood towers were spray painted a fading lime and violet. Mal was still all over this place.

Ben’s hand slipped from hers. When she turned to check on him, he was looking in the direction of a doorway covered with only a torn, dirty blue curtain. “What’s that?” He didn’t wait for an answer before crossing the street.

“Wait,” she softly called after while following him. That’s when she saw it too, the painted sign nailed over the door. Now she remembered what this building was.

Ben pulled the doorway curtain aside and revealed a small warehouse full of children. Some younger children dozed on old mattresses, some on the floor, some in proper bunk beds. A few older kids, still awake, chatted while gathered in groups on beds. A single old lamp with a missing shade harshly illuminated a small collection of crates and trunks, full of their belongings, littering the spaces between the beds.

He stared openly at a small child huddled under a patched together blanket with a dirty knitted hat keeping his head warm.

“I didn’t know the Isle had a kids’ shelter,” he hollowly said. That’s what the sign had read. That’s why he had to look. “Who’s in charge?”

Evie placed a comforting hand on the middle of his back. “No one.”

His hand dropped from where it’d clutched the doorway as he looked at her in blatant shock. “What? Then who takes care of these kids?”

“Ben,” she was quick to cut him off, because they needed to not dawdle. “I’ll explain it on the way. Come on.”

Evie took his hand and, with more than a little force, pulled him away. The curtain dropped, obscuring the children from sight.

He nearly tripped to keep up with her speed, but she didn’t apologize. The reality of Isle life for the children was too much for her. She wanted to leave, and she wanted to take every one of those kids with her. But, she couldn’t. Not yet.

‘Someday soon,’ she promised herself, blinking away the tears and swallowing the tight feeling in her throat.

“Evie, tell me—” Ben choked, wanting, needing to know.

“Back when everyone was dumped here, there was a big power struggle for the first few years,” Evie said distantly, trying to not get caught up in her emotions again. “It’s never been safe here, but it used to be so much worse. And kids were dragged into it too. Eventually, it was agreed the kids could have a safe space where no one would bother them. Some kids in there are orphans. Some parents who can’t house their kids send them to sleep there too.”

“Villains did that for kids?” Ben’s eyebrows pressed together as he tried making sense of it. “That early on?”

“Even our parents couldn’t stomach that kind of evil.” Evie knew there had been and still were adults who didn’t care for the kids at all and would use them, kill them. But, she was proud knowing her mother had backed establishing the shelter, along with Jafar, Dr. Facilier, and Mad Madame Mim. By some miracle, they convinced Maleficent to be on board.

“Anyway, the kids’ shelter is neutral. No one claims it as part of their territory, because then they’d have to take care of it.” She took a steadying breath. “And no one has the resources for that. So, people anonymously donate to it.”

“Why anonymously?”

“No one wants a reputation of being generous.”

“Did you ever have to sleep there?”

She noticed they were gripping hands so tightly that she was starting to lose feeling. “No. Mal, Carlos, Jay, and I were considered privileged. If you had a villain for a parent, not a henchman or henchwench, then you were high up the Isle’s social ladder. The Fairy Godmother made replicas of their homes, but lackeys and followers…they didn’t get that…”

Evie stopped in front of a building with a cardboard sign sporting scissors and a potion overhead. “Finally, here it is.”

The double metal doors were closed, but they pushed open without argument. The chemical smell of hair dye greeted them, followed by two voices arguing at the counter.

“Why do I have to do all the chores?!” Dizzy Tremaine whined up to a willowy, red-haired girl in a puffed sleeve leather jacket dotted with pink embroidery.

“Because I shaved Jafar’s back hair today,” Anya Tremaine replied simply in her high yet soft voice. “And don’t forget to collect that for the jar.”

“And why do we keep a jar of it?!” Dizzy asked, waving her arms.

Anya pressed an index finger between her younger cousin’s brows, making her flinch. “You know the rule around here: waste not, want not.”

The smaller girl groaned, her mouth comically downturned at the corners. “Why would anyone want that?!”

The older girl spritzed hairspray on her, making Dizzy cough in disgust. Anya then tossed a look over at Evie and Ben. Without actual malice, she said, “Get lost. We’re closed.”

Turning back to a still recovering Dizzy, she said in her sing-song way, “They look soft. You can handle tossing them.”

The Tremaine’s oldest child proceeded to walk out the door with a playful, off-tune hum. Dizzy, meanwhile, finished wiping the spray off her glasses and put them on to get a better look at their visitors.

Her whole self lit up with a smile. “Evie!”

The broom in her hand clattered on the concrete floor as she raced around the counter to throw her arms around Evie’s middle. She squealed, “I missed you I missed you I missed you!”

The older girl giggled and wrapped her arms as tightly as she could around Dizzy’s puffed sleeve-covered shoulders. “I missed you too!” She smiled toothily and pressed the top of her cheek to Dizzy’s head for one more squeeze before letting go.

Looking to Ben, who wore his own smile watching them, Evie said, “Ben, this is Dizzy Tremaine, Drizella’s daughter. The girl who just left was Anya Tremaine, Anastasia’s oldest.” With an arm around Dizzy, she gestured at Ben. “Dizzy, this is my friend Ben.”

Introductions, judging by the brown-haired girl’s wide eyes, were unnecessary.

“YOU’RE THE—MMM!”

Evie’s gloved hand firmly covered Dizzy’s mouth. “Shhh. We’re here in secret. So no yelling. Okay?”

Feeling Dizzy’s head bob up and down, she let her go. Quieter than before, Dizzy clutched her apron and squealed, “Ohh my gosh I can’t believe the King of Auradon is in my salon!”

Ben smiled genuinely down at her and \ bent his back to be closer to her level. “It’s just Ben, and it’s nice to meet one of Evie’s friends.”

She looked up at Evie with big, smiling eyes. “You have to tell me everything about Auradon! Like what’s it like going to Auradon Prep? Do you get dressed up and go to parties at the castle all the time?”

Much as they needed to be quick, Evie couldn’t bring herself to brush off Dizzy. “It’s…really nice... Um, the chefs make fresh food for us every day.” She wandered away, staring at the giant clear bags full of dyes dangling over a stained bathtub. “And…people are so kind.”

Dizzy followed after her like an eager duckling. “What are strawberries like? Mal is always eating them on TV.”

“Oh, um—” She pulled at the cut-off fingers of her gloves “— they’re sweet, but a little tart. In a good way.”

“Does everyone wear pretty dresses all of the time? Not that I’m into the super pastel princess look, but Mal’s been looking like a whole new person! Totally unrecognizable!” Dizzy paused to examine her bespectacled, space bun-headed self in the mirror.

Evie sadly wondered if the preteen was imagining herself with an Auradon make-over. She hated talking about things she could have but Dizzy couldn’t.

“Sort of.”

She looked around at the color-splattered beauty salon and saw a chalkboard with a list labeled “Dizzy’s chores.” Only three tasks out of the entire board were check-marked done.

Ben, perhaps noticing Evie’s discomfort listing all of the things she’d been privileged to, jumped in. “Dizzy, do you want to come to Auradon?”

She spun so fast, she nearly lost balance. “Would I!”

Ben nodded, his eyes flashing determinedly. “Then it’s settled. I’ll send an invitation for you to join the VK Program and study at Auradon Prep.”

Dizzy ran over to Ben and hugged his middle, gushing, “Thank you, thank you so much!” She then ran over to the chalkboard, rubbed out her name, and triumphantly wrote Anya’s.

While she was distracted, Evie stepped closer to Ben and quietly, hopefully asked, “You got the Royal Council to approve bringing more kids over?”

Ben didn’t look at her for a second. Then he did, and she understood the answer was no, but they’d have to stop him otherwise. “I’m not abandoning these kids.” His fists clenched, and he emphatically shook his head once. “And I’m definitely not leaving their lives up to a vote.”

She wanted to touch his cheek. “Ben…”

A sudden banging on the doors startled them. Before they could investigate, Dizzy was grabbing their jacket hems and pulling them toward a curtained off area for pet grooming.

“You need to hide!” she desperately whispered while another round of knocks rattled the metal doors.

“Yer late on yer dues, lass!” came the unmistakable brogue of their biggest inconvenience yet.

Evie looped her arm through Ben’s and drew the curtain closed, the plastic rings clattering on the rail. She could feel her heart beating in her chest. Now she gripped Ben’s arm with both hands.

“Who—?”

“Whatever you do,” she said, grave as she’d ever been since getting to the Isle, “be quiet.”

The sound of Dizzy’s inch-high boot heels clicking on the cement drew Evie’s attention at the curtain, toward the doors. Her mind raced, against the idea of leaving Dizzy to deal with their visitor on her own. Yet, if she intervened, that was yet another person and a significant person at that knowing she was back on the Isle.

What sounded like a fist slamming into the door made Dizzy yell, “I’m coming! Yeesh!”

Evie tensed at the clank of the door handle. She decided to wait and see how this went, but ultimately, she needed to protect Ben first.

Heavy footsteps scraped along the floor. “Fork it over, ya runt,” he spoke with the boredom of someone who said those words on a weekly basis.

“Give me a second, Harry,” Dizzy grumbled while tapping register keys. The till loudly popped open, clinking the coins inside.

A worrying moment of silence passed, interrupted only by the sound of fingers drumming impatiently. “Well?”

“Um…” A scattering of coins tapped onto the counter. “That’s it.”

In the split second of silence, Evie’s heart dropped.

Dizzy screamed as Harry knocked shampoo bottles, dyes, and hair tools to the ground. Something like glass shattered, and a metallic echo suggested something had broken.

“Don’t you go holdin’ back on me! Your loony cousin charges up the arse for back hair shavin’s!”

“You would know!” Dizzy insulted him right back, perhaps bravely, perhaps stupidly. She must have regretted it, because she then hurriedly added, “Anya probably emptied the till before leaving—!”

“Then I’ll make ya scream so loud she’ll come back with it!”

Ben gripped his sword hilt, his jaw tense. This was too much for both of them. Evie set her hand on his chest, over his heart. When he met her eye, she pressed a finger over her lips, telling him to stay and be quiet. Then with a fire inside her, Evie stepped around the curtain and sauntered into full view of Harry Hook.

“Do you always wait for Dizzy to be alone when you collect?”

The black liner around his eyes almost formed circles as he stared at her. Then he grinned. “Well well, looky what crawled back from Auradon.”

“Just saying hi to my mom.” Evie went to toss her hair but stopped short, remembering she couldn’t dislodge her hood. “I stopped by here to fix my lipstick. You know how the Evil Queen is about appearances.”

Harry advanced on her with that grin that curled up wildly in one corner of his mouth, and his eyes glittered hungrily. “Ya gotta’ mess it up first to have something to fix.”

As he suggestively leaned into her space, Evie pressed her fingertips into his chest, and he let himself be pushed away. “Still not interested.”

“Blegh!” Dizzy cringed from where she hid behind the register.

Evie, nodding at him, asked, “What’s Uma’s crew doing collecting on De Vil turf?”

“Haha!” he sharply laughed. “Like that ol’ bitch is gonna’ say anything? This Isle’s under new management.” Harry held up his coin bag and jangled the generous collection inside. “N’ everybody’s got to pay up.”

“Mm-hm.” Evie pressed her lips together and looked as unimpressed as she could. “That’s nice for Uma, but we’re not paying into your protection racket today. So do what you do best, and go beat off.”

Internally, she was mortified that she just said that with Ben present. But she had to ignore that, because these were Isle matters that required villainous dialogue.

Harry knew that too as he held up his shining, silver hook and ran its curved edge thoughtfully under her chin. “I could hurt you.”

The skin on her back prickled. She didn’t know if it was the threat, or if it was Ben’s fury — real or imagined on her part. To her relief, he did not come immediately storming out to her defense. He was listening to her, trusting her.

“Touch me—” She caught the hook’s curved inside and dragged it away from her face “—and I’ll make you just like your dad.”

Harry turned his chin up and looked down, contemplating the hook grasped in his hand.

She continued, “Enjoy your power trip while it lasts. Since you’ve bet on Uma, that means it won’t be much longer.”

“Ooh that’s rich,” he said, voice dropping dangerously, “comin’ from the lass that got exiled with her loony mum ‘cause of Mal. Then the moment yer out—” He grinned madly —“first thing ya do is start lickin’ her boots.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Your tongue’s blacker than mine.”

Harry was leaning in again, tilting his head and looking at her lips. “Maybe we should compare—”

Her hand collided with his chest as her other pointed to the door. “OUT!”

Stumbling back, Harry grinned like a shark. “Uma’s gonna love this.”

He sharply turned, is rust red coat flapping at his sides. He marched to the doors, theatrically threw them open, and loudly shut them behind him in a similar manner. The moment she could, Dizzy ran to the doors, locked, and bolted them.

Evie thought she was just imagining his diabolical cackling now, but as she relaxed, she also began to shiver. The curtain rings clattered together as Ben shoved them aside and rushed to her. She suddenly found herself behind gently turned and examined for any damage. When Ben’s warm hand touched her face, her shivering stopped.

“Are you okay?!” he desperately asked, his other hand cupping the curve of her shoulder. “Did he touch you? Who even is that guy?! Why is everyone on the Isle harassing you?!”

Her hands rested on his forearms. “I’m fine, but we need to get out of here and hurry up.” There was a growing pattern that with every passing minute, danger only grew.

Ben took a ragged breath. Before he could decide if he was going to compliantly go along or push for answers, Dizzy came out from behind the makeshift counter and explained, “That was Harry Hook, Uma’s first mate. I wish I could say he’s all talk, but he’s so crazy.”

Grabbing a broom with multicolored bristled and almost blackened edges, Dizzy began sweeping the spilled bottles, hairpins, brushes, a broken hairdryer, and other salon whatnot into a pile. “The deal is we pay up every week, and they don’t trash the place every week.”

Slowly, Ben’s hands left Evie. He walked over to Dizzy and knelt on the ground so he could begin helping her gather the mess. “I’m sorry, Dizzy. That’s not right at all.”

She shrugged, sighing. “Yeah, well, who’s gonna stop them? Maleficent wasn’t any better, but at least she sorta respected turf boundaries.”

The young king stood up with his arms full and began returning everything to their proper places on the counter. “So every villain has their own turf?”

“Mm-mm.” Dizzy picked up a few items he couldn’t grab and helped return everything to their proper places. “Not everyone. My Grandma had to ally herself with Cruella De Vil, because she’s a lot meaner and scarier. Grandma didn’t have the muscle to back up her meanness.”

Evie came over to rest her elbow on the old-fashioned register. “I remember. Unlike a lot of villains, Cruella was also a businesswoman.” While Evie figured he already knew this, she wanted to show how everything connected. “So, she accrued power here by making business connections with the things no one wants to give up: food and fashion. You already know Anastasia Tremaine married a baker. Then there’s the salon. She has her own boutique here too.”

Not that Cruella could continue her fashion label in remotely the same capacity. Still, people needed clothes.

“Jafar’s turf is the main bazaar,” Evie went on. “Ursula used to have the docks, but I think Uma has taken that by now. All of the villains and henchmen have to follow whoever’s turf they’re on.”

“So like a lord and their bannermen,” Ben said thoughtfully. His eyes lit up at he put it together. “And we’re going through Cruella’s turf because that’s where you live. But why doesn’t your mom have her own—”

He stopped himself. Then, he looked at her with more concern than anyone had her whole life. “Evie, what did Harry Hook mean about you being exiled because of Mal?”

Evie blinked. “I…um….”

She was unbecomingly sputtering. Her night was yo-yoing between being embarrassment and melancholy about her upbringing then guilt around her newfound privilege.

Not wanting to answer but not knowing a smooth way out of it, not when it was Ben asking, Evie looked to Dizzy. “Can you help us leave through the back? I need the quickest route to my mom’s place.”

Dizzy nodded so enthusiastically that the colored feathers stuck in her buns flapped. “I’ll show you the fastest way. No one’s ever bothered me. Oh! One second!” She nearly skipped over to a work table full of jewelry pieces, glue, and needle nose pliers. Digging through a small pile of brooches and pins, she returned to Evie with a big smile and a gift offered up in her hands.

“I made my own emblem! I want you to have it.” The emblem was a neon yellow painted pair of scissors stuck to a bright purple base encrusted in little, fake gems. The brooch, the loving work of a passionate amateur, was a bit oversized to wear.

Evie lovingly took it into her hands. “Thank you so much, Dizzy. I’ll treasure it.” Though it would clash with her outfit, she pinned it anyway. The emblem went right over her heart. “I’ll give you mine too, on your first day in Auradon. How’s that?”

Dizzy threw her arms around Evie one more time, and they stood there in the kind of tight hug that twists back and forth.

Catching Ben’s eye, Evie smiled softly and leaned her cheek on Dizzy’s head. “Giving your emblem to someone is personal. It means you love them.”

For all that he struggled to understand about Isle culture, her Auradon boy understood that.

Jay was convinced nothing would snap Carlos out of his obsession at this point. He would have to ride the wave and wait until cotillion had passed. The way he viewed it, no one was getting hurt by Carlos’ dressmaking. Actually, someone would only get hurt if they tried stopping him.

Or—

“So I can’t sleep in our dorm tonight—” Jay said as if doing math aloud “—because I might snore and annoy you?

“No,” Carlos said testily while hunched over the sewing machine, humming as fabrics were carefully guided under its needle. “It’s because when you snore, I might strangle you for breaking my concentration.”

“This is a really uncool way to talk to the guy who’s been keeping you stocked in energy drinks.” Bright green cans in flavors like sour watermelon and green apple littered their floor. “Which you still owe me for.”

Carlos finished the layer he was working on and returned to the mannequin to begin pinning it to the skirt. “I’ll help out with Evie’s boutique until you’re paid back. Will you go now? I still need to add the studs to the bodice.”

Jay huffed and pressed his hands into the beanie over his forehead. He hoped helping Evie out did not include anymore ballgowns.

Carlos had even skipped out on the entire school day and R.O.A.R. practice. Jay didn’t have the chance to ask Carlos how much detention he thought he’d get before learning an email had gone out from the school nurse alerting their teachers that Carlos was ill that day. Jay’s instinct told him the school nurse was definitely unaware of that email or that her account had been hacked.

‘Carlos is going from crazy to scary real fast.’

“Hey Jay—” Carlos turned around, holding both ends of his closed razor “—I think—” He struggled getting the words out “—I have feelings for Mal.”

Jay grabbed his pillow and headed for the door. “Say no more. You’ve convinced me.”

Clutching the razor in one hand, Carlos insisted, “Seriously! What am I supposed to do?!”

This really was beyond Jay and definitely not something he wanted to picture. “This is the same Mal who made the whole school bark at you for your thirteenth birthday, right?”

He flushed. “Not…the exact same…”

“Uhh-huh.” Jay shook his head. “I dunno, man. Maybe you don’t really have feelings for Mal. Maybe it’s just all this—” Jay waved an uncertain hand at the mayhem of fabrics, pins, and fabric spray paint littered about their dorm “—getting to you. You probably don’t even have a crush on Mal. Maybe you just want to touch something.”

Carlos blinked rapidly. “Touch what?!”

“I dunno! But I’m out. Later!” Jay was out that door faster than if he’d stolen the sewing machine.

With the door snapped shut behind him, he briskly set off toward the girls’ dorms to see if he could crash on either of their floors. Despite the utter weirdness of Carlos’ confession, Jay planned to ask Mal first. He figured he’d have to fall asleep fast, or else she’d sniff out something was going on.

‘Maybe it’s a fairy thing.’ The next thought had Jay pulling a cringing, grossed out expression. ‘Does Carlos have a thing for fairies?’ Jane was technically one too, through her mother’s side. ‘He’s so weird, but I already knew that.’

Carlos used to ask him with almost weekly regularity how he could be so easy and confident around girls or how to ‘get out of the friend zone.’ Eventually, those questions stopped. Soon after, Carlos stopped making poor attempts at asking Jane out. All signs pointed to Carlos moving on. Jay couldn’t believe someone so smart would would dumb enough to fall for the most unavailable girl in all of the kingdoms.

Because unfortunately, Jay knew he was being hopeful thinking maybe Carlos was just horny from dress fittings with the future High Queen of Auradon.

And speaking of, Jay’s knuckles struck Mal’s closed door a few times before he announced, “It’s me.”

“Go away.”

Interpreting that as the standard Isle greeting, Jay turned the knob and headed inside. “Sup?” Not that she needed to tell him, because he knew from one look at her set-up of easel and acrylics that she was painting again.

Mal, seated on a stool tucked into the far corner of her room, didn’t even look up from her nine-by-twelve canvas. “I mean it, Jay. I’m busy.” Her paintbrush dipped into a palette with great, goopy heaps of red, white, black, and brown.

The position of the easel, faced away from the door and from view of the window struck the astute athlete as oddly suspicious. But, he wasn’t there to investigate.

“I need somewhere to crash. Carlos is acting crazy and threw me out, because I might snore and he might strangle me for it.”

Mal finally looked at him, her paintbrush still. “Really?” She sounded amused and not at all like she agreed Carlos was being unreasonably selfish.

Jay, despite being so over his friend’s moods, did not plan on ruining Carlos’ surprise for Mal. ‘Ah shit, no wonder he’s going crazy. It’s a gift for his cru—uuuugh I can’t even finish that sentence!’

“So can I crash?”

Mal returned her attention down at her palette. “No. I’m busy. Go ask Evie.”

Jay groaned at his rotten luck, because Evie’s floor space was limited from all of her sewing supplies and racks of cotillion orders. “Maybe Ben’ll let me crash on that couch in his office.”

She frowned, blinking as if coming out of her own stupor. “I haven’t seen Ben tonight.” Her paintbrush pensively stirred in the water glass. “It’s not like him to leave me alone on a Friday.”

‘Carlos would jump at the chance to keep you company.’ Jay barely suppressed a shudder. The idea of his two best friends tangled together and necking was too much.

“Yeah I’m gonna’ see about that couch. Later!”

Back out the door he went without a second glance. He used to sleep under the shelves at his dad’s junk shop, so he had no doubt he could easily find a more comfortable alternative in Auradon Prep. He ambled down the dimmed corridor and loudly yawned into a closed fist. He planned on getting up early for some private training, though he was giving up on asking Carlos to join. It sucked. He wanted to duel Carlos so badly after he’d beaten Ben. Their duel had been the talk of the school that day, and his best friend hadn’t even been around to enjoy it. Carlos could’ve asked any girl — who wasn’t Mal — to the cotillion, and they would’ve screamed yes.

“Uuugggh,” Jay groaned, over all of this drama.

“Jay?” A voice called out from an open doorway ahead, spilling light. Then Lonnie’s head popped out into the hall with her long braid falling over her shoulder. She dressed in grey sweats and a white tee for bed.

She spotted him. “Hey! What’re you up to?” When he shrugged and gave a noncommittal ‘eh,’ she went on, “Jane went home for the weekend. Can we…talk?”

Jay, assuming she wanted to talk about their plans to reveal her as the new team captain, gave an easy-going, “Sure” and moseyed into her dorm. He went to close the door behind him, but she quickly said, “Leave it open a little bit. School rules. And I had to listen to Jane freak out about finding Mal and Carlos with the door closed.”

Lonnie good-naturedly rolled her eyes. “I had to explain to her twelve times that people can stand close to each other and it not mean they’re in a secret love affair.”

Thank Chernabog that Jay knew how to keep a stellar poker face, because on the inside, he was losing it over everything going back to Carlos’ crush on Mal.

“Sooo is this what you wanted to talk about?” Because it if it was, Ben had an office couch calling his name.

Lonnie huffed a frustrated sigh and plopped down among a collection of floor pillows. Jay could tell at a glance whose side belonged to who. Jane’s bed even had the comforter tucked in. Everything had its proper place, from to the pumpkin-shaped alarm clock on her dust-free nightstand to the folded, fuzzy Dalmatian print throw blanket at the end of her bed.

Then there was Lonnie’s side, with a box of cheese-flavored crackers on her nightstand and a pile of clothes over the chair. Jay wondered if their roommate dynamic ever got like his and Carlos’.

Lonnie waited for him to sit crosslegged on the floor with her before asking, “So do you know who you’re going to cotillion with?”

He leaned back on his hands and shrugged. “Mm. Nah. You?”

She tucked her hair behind her ears and looked down at the floor. “Well, no, but people keep telling me that you’re going to ask me. And then I try to feel excited about it, but then I see girls getting asked out and actually getting excited.”

“Oh. Do you wanna go with me?”

Lonnie looked up and gestured one-handedly at him. “Jay, listen. What I’m saying is there isn’t anyone I’m excited or hoping to go with. I thought I’d feel differently about you, because we have so much in common. But—” Lonnie huffed and put her hands on either side of her head “—I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Jay licked his lips and furrowed his brow. “But that’s how I feel too, and I don’t really feel like anything’s wrong with me. And, actually, I was kinda…trying to figure out why I didn’t like you like that either.”

“Other girls will tease me about you, and I’ve been playing along, acting like I had a crush on you.” She frowned, shaking her head at the memories. A frustrated laugh escaped her. “Sometimes, I tried imagining making out with you, but I think I’d rather fight you.”

A spark of real, true friendship came alive as Jay exclaimed, “Dude, me too! I kept trying to figure out if I was into you. Turns out I’m really into you as a swordsman!”

Lonnie lit up that she wasn’t alone. “So wanna go to cotillion together, no pressure or weird expectations?”

“Hell yeah!”

They laughed and clasped forearms like in R.O.A.R. Then, Jay thought to ask, “Why were you so worked up about not having a crush on anyone?”

Lonnie shrugged and looked at him like it was obvious. “True love is everything in Auradon. Everyone finds the one, falls in love. I mean, cotillion is taking place on the True Love. You know, the most powerful thing in the whole world?”

“The boat?”

“No, love! And it’s gonna be full of stained glass depictions of all the great true love’s first kisses in history.” Her back slumped. “But I just…I can’t make myself be interested…”

Now Jay got it. Softly, he said, “Then let’s just…not be interested. There’s no use trying to be what we’re not, right? So let’s just be us.”

Her brow worriedly wrinkled as she unconsciously picked at her short nails. “You think people would be okay with that?”

Jay thought about how he’d enjoyed fitting into Auradon. Living there felt so natural, even if he did have to sometimes hammer down his old VK tendencies. Then he realized he’d not really done that so successfully. He could make himself follow the rules until his friends were involved. He helped “borrow” that sewing machine and mannequin to help Carlos. Looking at Lonnie now, his normally confident and positive friend now rendered uncertain and nervous, he knew what he had to do.

“I’m okay with that.”

Lonnie’s smile returned to her face. “Me too.”

The gracious United Kingdoms of Auradon did grant small mercies when abandoning its villains on the Isle’s shores. Their homes were magically replicated on smaller scales, shadows of their formerly grand selves. Even so, Queen Grimhilde had a massive castle in her former life that led to a still large chateau of stone. Evie remembered wishing it had been a proper palace with grand windows instead of the little diamond-paned ones and gleaming chandeliers instead of wall-mounted torches.

Looking on the Castle Across the Way filled her heart with heavy emotions, both wistful and sad.

“This is my home,” she quietly told Ben, who’d gazed at up the structure with the confused, inquisitive brow of someone who’d only heard of evil castles in theory.

He gestured at the thorny vines separating the castle from the street. “You guys must’ve saved a lot on gardening,” he tried joking.

She weakly laughed, even if it did come out more like a cough. “Yeah.”

Evie did not know how to move forward. This was her home, yet it was also her prison for ten years. She missed her mother, but she didn’t know what she’d say if her mother fretted over her appearance or asked if she’d engaged herself to a rich man. Her fingers unconsciously rubbed between her eyebrows as if to rub off an imagined unibrow.

“What’s wrong?” Ben asked, clearly seeing her struggle.

“It’s — sometimes I get this feeling—” Evie grimaced, her eyes on the double-wooden doors ahead of them “—like I’m going to be stuck on the Isle again. I get so scared about being deported by the Fairy Godmother or King Beast—”

Her hand was abruptly enveloped and held up in his. “I would never do that to you, and I wouldn’t let the Fairy Godmother or my father do that either. I invited you to Auradon. You’re under my protection.” His earnestness faltered as he quickly added, “All of four of you are.”

Her heartbeat reached her ears. His declaration was the sort she’d have dreamed about as a little girl yearning for a prince to whisk her away from there.

‘Mal is so lucky.’

Evie looked down at their clasped hands, took in a deep breath, and gave him a braver smile than before.

“Let’s do this.”

Together, they crossed the drawbridge spanning a moat so short that, if not for the thorny vines, anyone could have jumped it to the other side. Evie checked behind them for anyone who could possibly identify her, now even more likely with her standing on her own doorstep. She saw a short girl with afro-puffs and a statuesque young woman with a waterfall of black locks loitering outside the iron gate barring the end of the street, where Hell Hall resided. Evie figured those might have been a couple of Cruella De Vil’s models sharing a smoke on break.

“Are we going in?” Ben asked, missing Evie’s observations as he got an eyeful of the elaborate poison apple coat of arms bolted on both doors.

Evie raised her free hand and hesitated, uncertain if she should knock before entering her own home. But, she hadn’t lived there in a couple of years, and she had no plans of moving back. This had been her home. Now, it was a monument of her past.

“Evie?”

His voice pulled her out of her head. ‘If I knock, we’ll be waiting all night for Mother to open the door.’

“Oh!”

Ben accidentally tugged at her arm as he hopped to dislodge an empty basket from his foot. The wicker basket dropped harmlessly to the ground, and Ben asked, “Why does your mom leave her shopping basket out?”

“Hm? Oh.” Evie blinked, remembered, then felt her throat go dry. “That’s where the vultures would leave things for us.”

“Like gifts?” Ben ventured.

“Like…food…” Her eyes focused on the coat of arms instead of him. “And whatever else Mom asked them to grab. What they end up bringing can be pretty random. Vultures don’t really know how to read shopping lists.”

The embarrassment of such a conversation spurred her on. She one-handedly unzipped her tiny purse, fished out an old though elaborate iron key, and inserted into the lock. With a turn, Evie pushed open one of the doors and led Ben into her prison within a prison.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkened interior, she whispered, “It’s only fair to warn you my mother got a little…odd…after spending ten years alone with just me.”

Ben closed the door behind them and followed so closely she could feel his clothing bush hers. “I think adults don’t handle things as well as kids sometimes,” he whispered back. “When my mom met Dad, he’d been a beast for so long that he’d forgotten how to use a spoon.”

That was Ben, Evie thought, always finding a way to meet someone where they were, to relate to them, to make them feel better.

A question that tasted like, ‘Why did—’ lingered on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t finish it. Evie thought she’d swallowed it, but it came back up.

'Why'd you fall in love with—?'

Thick wood doors flew open, striking the stone walls and kicking up dust and soot which danced around in a cloud. From it came a tall figure, striding into the small entrance hall as if there wasn’t old rubble in her way. Her imposing air broke when she had to brush off a spider web in the path of her face.

“Annoying little pests! Ugh, someone ought to clean this place.” She quit waving her arm around and cough into her fist. “Ahem! Who dares enter my castle?!”

“Mom, turn the lights on.” This whole script was so familiar. “It’s me.”

The woman’s silhouette pressed her hand over a large, fake ruby necklace. “My darling Evie! Turn the light on, you silly girl! Let me see your face!”

The bittersweet feeling sweeping over Evie rendered her blind to Ben’s hand slipping away from hers. Several seconds later, dim amber light emitted from the Edison bulbs whose cord was messily draped across wall torches. Evie recognized the broken wooden chandelier on the floor’s ragged carpet runner. The last time she’d been home, it had hung lopsided on the wall. The rubble from its collapse remained around it, even the dust looking as though it were gathering dust.

She turned and found Ben kneeling by the wall, where he’d plugged the cord into a solar-powered generator. Evie stared at the handmade device, a gift from Carlos who’d explained she’d need to give it a couple days to charge due to the poor sunlight they received. He’d often grab it whenever he tried recharging a few of his own during sunrise and sunset, when the Isle received the most direct light. For it to still have charge, her mother must have very seldomly lit the entrance hall.

Fondly, she thought, ‘I wonder if Carlos invents things anymore.’

Her mother, who’d been muttering curses at the unwanted light, regained enough sight to confirm with great pleasure, “Evie!” And then with greater pleasure “—And the king!”

Suddenly her mother, looking every bit she remembered with rouge over round cheeks and dark violet eyeshadow over hooded eyes, swept over to her.

“Excellent work, my dear!” the older woman gushed.

“Mom—”

The Evil Queen cupped her daughter’s face and pecked both cheeks, nearly dislodging Evie’s hood. “And you stole him from Maleficent’s daughter! Well of course you did.” She released Evie’s face to gesture at her from head to toe. “You’re the picture of beauty and grace!”

Her mother’s praise threw her back into being a little girl who survived off of it. “I am?”

“Of course!” Her mother laughed victoriously. “I always knew you couldn’t be so beautiful for nothing!”

Ben, having returned to Evie’s side, gestured with both arms at himself. “I’m right here.”

Evie frowned, brought back to the miserable reality of her mother’s real priorities. “And so am I. Mother, it’s not like that.”

“Ohh I see.” Her mother winked conspiratorially. “It’s an affair. That’s why it’s not been announced. Risky going the affair route, dear. Mistresses never get the best gifts. It’s always the wife who gets the good jewelry, and it’s usually out of guilt.”

Grimhilde sighed in a long suffering manner. “I would know. And no one wants to see the mistress become queen, but—” she gestured merrily at her head, as if she still wore a crown “— clearly that didn’t stop a king who foolishly fell in love.”

Ben had no stomach for the accusations. “I would never have an affair! With anyone!”

The Evil Queen, annoyed he was still talking, sized him up before imperiously demanding, “Then why are you here?”

“I’m escorting Evie—”

“In her own home? On the Isle of which she has spent her entire life until you whisked her away from me?” The woman turned toward her daughter and not-so-quietly muttered, “He’s in denial, dear. Work with that.”

Evie shook her head. “Mom, please listen—”

A toss of her mother’s grand black cloak with the amethyst silk lining cut her off. “Show the King to the sitting room, dearest. Don’t dawdle! It’s unbecoming.”

Evie took a deep breath, suddenly hoping bringing Ben here wasn’t the wrong choice. Before she could contemplate her nerves any further, he was offering his bent arm to her.

“May I?”

Looking up at him, she saw Ben’s brow was serious but his faint smile was encouraging. Her mother’s suggestive remarks hadn’t dissuaded him.

Her hand tucked itself into the crook of his arm. “Thank you,” she mouthed moreso than said.

Together, they proceeded through the doorway and into a large hall scattered with living room furniture. A collapsed settee sat on the floor, along with moth eaten armchairs, a tilted coffee table, and a tiny old TV sitting atop piles of fashion magazines. A small collection of chipped table lamps stood on the floor, lighting the perimeter of their makeshift living room. Auradon allowed each building a small amount of electricity to run on; unfortunately, having a larger home did not earn any more electricity than a shack by the water.

Grimhilde finished turning on the last lamp and regally lowered herself into the highest backed armchair. “Now tell me, is this visit to confess your scheme to wed?” The thought could not have delighted her more.

“Mom, I have a problem and, the Magic Mirror said—”

Grimhilde gave a start, her red lips forming an O as her eyes widened until the whites showed. “The Mirror! I thought that damned Beast had destroyed it!”

“You mean my father?”

She waved a dismissive hand at him. “No silly questions. Now sit. Oh no no no, the settee.” Grimhilde smiled in a manner that nearly squinted her eyes closed. “It shall fit both of you.”

Following her mother’s directions, Evie sat down and pretended to only clear her voice instead of cough when dust rose up from the cushions. She noticed Ben’s eyes water, but he managed to keep a neutral expression.

Now she had a problem: continue telling her what the Mirror had said or ask about what she’d meant by King Beast destroying it. Evie felt an impending sense they needed to hurry, that some unknown timer was running out.

Ben, leaning toward Grimhilde, made the choice: Evie.

“The Magic Mirror said you would have the answer to a curse that’s been put on Evie.”

Her mother frowned, observing her daughter. “Curse? Dearest, what is he referring to?”

Mouth dry, Evie let go of Ben’s arm and slowly dragged her hood down. She felt terrified, expecting the same reaction that a pimple or ingrown hair might get. She couldn’t even look at her mom, and then—

“Oh Evie, how marvelous!”

She and Ben stared at the Evil Queen with matching, shocked expressions. The older woman grinned toothily like a cat with her green eyes sparkling evilly. “Here I had thought your father’s marvelous powers had passed you over much as my father’s had done to me, but oh no, my dear, you’re blessed with all the powers of life and death!”

An excited chorus of vultures cawed, their throaty cries echoing up to the vaulted ceiling. At the head of the hall, where a throne would have sat, there were stack of straw-filled crates where the vultures lived. They flapped their wings, littering the floor with feathers.

“Shut up! Shut up!” Grimhilde yelled over them until they settled down. “Absolute menaces when they’re not running errands. Now.” She clapped her heads and held them out to Evie. “Come closer, dear. Let me have a good look at them.”

Evie shakily rose and walked around Ben, closer to her mother. “Y-youre not upset they’re ruining my looks?”

Ben, who Grimhilde has no influence over, focused on what mattered to them most. “She’s not cursed?”

The woman pushed herself up from the chair and smoothed her daughter’s hair while gazing at the curving horns. “Of course not. People are only so lucky to be born with such a blessing. And of course my Evie would grow the most beautiful pair. The way they angle back and have that eye-catching little twist absolutely accentuates that swan-like neck you inherited from me.”

Such a neck may have been in Grimhilde’s past but did not exist in her present, not that either teens would draw attention to it.

“Mom, I don’t understand.” Her big, nervous eyes searched her mother’s face and implored for a better answer. “Why am I growing horns?”

“Because your father has them, and they are an ancient sign of incredible, dark powers the likes of which have been feared for millennia.” Grimhilde sank back into her chair and smirked to herself. Undoubtedly, schemes formed in her unhinged yet wily mind.

Evie stood frozen. Her father, dark powers, a blessing — it was all too much to be real. She didn’t even know who her father was. She’d asked once as a little girl, but her mother threw a fit over apparently not being enough for her daughter. The ensuing guilt kept her mouth shut on the matter for all of the years following.

For many villain kids, their parents could be deduced by whoever the head henchman or henchwench was. Or, two villains had previously dated as teenagers, and their one night hook-up years later as adults did not go unnoticed by their contemporaries (Grimhilde told her the history between Maleficent and Hades). She had no such guesses to make regarding her mother and thus the other half of her own parentage.

“Who is my father?” she asked so softly her voice broke.

Like it was nothing, her mother flippantly said, “The Horned King. Although, I am relieved your horns did not turn out as his. Rather silly-looking, but he’s an ancient evil known to have raised the dead and destroyed whole royal houses. What was I supposed to do?” the Evil Queen coyly asked. “Resist?”

Evie nearly tripped over air as her mother dreamily recalled, “Ah yes, what a powerful necromancer he is. He was maliciously clever, that one. He killed himself and made his so-called last wish to be buried at the foothills of Bald Mountain.”

She chuckled, eyes glittering. “Ah yes, those fools in Auradon neglected that someone as powerful as he has died many times and resurrected himself. Necromancers are very few, dear, and only he is so powerful to be able to raise himself. And that is what he did when Auradon carried his body from the Isle to Bald Mountain.”

The smile vanished into an abrupt look of disdain as she concluded, “Of course, this was all a brilliant scheme to avoid child support. Now he’s been spending the last eighteen years avoiding being a father. Now, I can only imagine he’s run off north of even the Borderlands.” She waved a hand decorated with rings, their fake gems dull. “Who knows.”

Ben was on his feet beside Evie and with an expression of horror. “The Horned King is on the loose?! Why isn’t this international news?! The public needs to be aware, and—and—!”

“Boy,” Grimhilde sharply interrupted. “Your father is well aware, I’m certain. If you’re upset with how King Beast is running things, then get in line!” She clapped her hands once. “Now sit, both of you!”

Evie didn’t want to let her mother think she still had control over her, but she did need to take this in. She was the daughter of a necromancer, the darkest magic there was. Her horns were connected to dark magic.

Her stomach felt hollow. She felt cold.

She was rotten to her very core.

Ben’s arm carefully went around her back, and his hand gently touched her shoulder. “Is there,” he shakily began, eyes on Evie while he addressed her mother, “any way to get rid of these horns?”

Then for the first time since he’d stepped foot in her castle, Grimhilde regarded the young king with contempt. “The same way Maleficent lost her wings to King Stefan and her own horns to your father. It’s why she wore that silly head piece imitating her old horns.”

Ben’s shoulders sank. “What—?”

“Mutilation.” Grimhilde was suddenly, truly the Evil Queen, sitting on her throne with her clever mind clear and her hate sharp.

And Ben was the pure-hearted young king, stalwartly declaring, “I would never!”

She sat straight-backed and narrow-eyed. “Your father would, and he has committed the likes of which your naive mind could not fathom.”

He blushed, but he persisted. “My father is not the king, and I would never allow him or anyone to harm Evie!”

She regarded him the way one would a fly. “If I had a say in the matter, no one would, but clearly—” she gestured at her dilapidated home “—I don’t. What say you, Boy King? Someone so blind could never protect my Evie.”

Ben shook. From what, Evie didn’t know, but she knew she must put an end to this line of conversation. She couldn’t stand hearing anymore, not about her heritage, her fate. She could’t listen to one more condescending word from her mother’s mouth as she berated Ben.

Evie unzipped her jacket and pulled out the warm, slightly wrinkled Museum of Cultural History Collection Report. Their attention went to her even before she said, “Mom, there’s so much we need to know.”

Looking to her companion, Evie asked, “Ben, can you show us the page with the collection in sub-basement six?”

He paused then gave a distant, “Yeah…sure…” His hand dropped from her shoulder, and together, they returned to sitting on the settee, now with Evie sitting closer to her mother.

The pages flipped between his fingers as he went through the lists for the Villains Gallery, Atlantean artifacts, fairy tale relics, and finally through the sub-basement storage. “We found some destroyed wands near your Mirror. There aren’t descriptions or mention of who owns what. Even the wands are listed as only having scuff marks.” Ben huffed frustratedly. “The report is incomplete at best, full of lies and half-truths at worst.”

“A report you found or demanded?” Grimhilde inquired, eyes half-lidded as she eyed the report.

Ben hesitated, uncertain of where this was going. “I asked for it.”

“And your servants deigned to give you, their supposed king, an unfinished report?” She nastily smiled. “I would have skinned my servants for such insolence."

He shifted uncomfortably and opted to move on, not engage with her goading. “I’ve narrowed it down from what I remember the wands looking like. I think they were—” he pointed at two items listed on the page “—the Divine Rose and the Wishing Star.”

“Ohh!” Grimhilde exclaimed, making both of them jump. “Ah yes, Beast would have kept those! It’s no surprise he confiscated the Blue Fairy’s wand, but acquiring the Divine Rose would have been particularly personal for that creature.” She spat the last word.

“Confiscated wands?” Ben echoed. “I don’t understand. People agreed to give up their wands and live magic-free. Everyone agreed it was for the best.”

Grimhilde rolled her eyes. “History is told by the victors, you silly child. I’ll have to ask Dr. Facilier what he knows. He was one of the last to be dragged here to the Isle, you know. When the Black Cauldron was used to raise us from the dead—”

Ben was on his feet, the report falling to the ground. He visibly shook, fists clenched. “If you’re about to accuse my father of—”

The Evil Queen rose to her feet and raised her cape, the effect like a threatening bird. “Tell me then, you insolent boy, how I stand before you!”

He squared his shoulders, but to Evie’s relief, he did not touch his sword. “The Fairy Godmother used ancient magic—”

“You would tell ME of magic?!” Her voice thundered to the rafters, and the vultures cawed restlessly. “I, a sorceress who studied under my father, so great and powerful that his own spirit lives on in the Magic Mirror! With your belly full of Auradon’s lies, you would tell ME?!”

“Mother!” Evie desperately yelled, up on her feet and protectively stepping in front of Ben. “Whose wand was the Divine Rose? And why were there fairy wings down there?!”

Her expansive cape fluttered down to her sides as Grimhilde settled down. With an imperious huff, she calmly replied, “The Divine Rose belonged to the Rose Enchantress, of course. The woman who cursed the Beast to his animal form.” She sniffed imperiously. “Of course, Dr. Facilier knows more about that.”

Slowly, she sat back own in her chair, and her two guests did the same. “Auradon raised him from the dead by using the necromantic powers of the Black Cauldron, and he escaped with the aid of his friends on the other side. They hid him for a time and acted as his little spies. He knows what happened during those days when the King enforced mundanity upon the magical folk.”

Evie could feel Ben turning stony beside her. She felt dizzy, sick.

“Dr. Facilier told me himself that Tinkerbell used such language when they came her for that even the King blushed!” Her tone flattened. “They tore off her wings anyway, poor thing.” She chortled shortly. “I do wonder how Pixie Hollow is getting along these days.”

Evie wished she had never come. She wanted to believe her mother was lying, trying to upset them. She’d lied before, acting brilliantly as a kindly crone offering the reddest apple ever seen. But, she’d made the most sense so far. Evie felt her whole life, her dreams, crumbling. There was never such a thing as a good necromancer, let alone one who got married, raised a family, and ran a boutique.

‘We are not our parents,’ Mal had declared to them at the coronation. If that was true, then Evie didn’t know why she felt trapped in a cage with double-helix bars, the shape of DNA.

“I need…to go check my make-up…” Evie felt disconnected from herself as she stood up and began walking in the direction of a spiral staircase she’d climbed thousands of times.

“Me too,” Ben thoughtlessly said to excuse himself after her.

Her mother called after them, “Give him a tour, dear! Start with your bedroom! Don’t rush on my account!”

Her heels managed on the sloping stone steps as she ascended into darkness, her hand trailing on the wall. She counted the steps, remembering how many until the landing. But she didn’t need to count, because a white light enveloped her legs. She looked over her shoulder and saw Ben close behind, his phone out and flashlight app on. Climbing higher and higher, they reached the landing with a single, rough wooden door that, with a push from her shoulder, opened to reveal Evie’s old bedroom as she’d left it.

Collages of images from old fashion magazines were pinned where the wallpaper peeled. Her tomato pincushion, threads, and garment scraps were exactly as she’d left them that morning she’d left for Auradon. Her vanity with its scuffed legs and missing appliqués had gathered a new layer of dust. She couldn’t remember if her rug had always looked so dirty and flat.

Evie didn’t want to contemplate it. She didn’t want to spare energy being humiliated by how poor she was before Ben took pity on them. Instead, she threw herself on the tired quilt of her old, tilting four poster bed. It was all miserably familiar. She’d cried in this spot many times. There were whole days of her lying there, staring in the direction of the rickety doors to her balcony.

Then came Ben’s soft, tired voice. “Can I join you?” At her weak nod, he sat on the edge then laid back, beside her. She felt his sigh and how he sank deeper into the hard mattress. He dragged the blue beanie off his head and ran his hands through messy brown-blond hair.

She breathed in slowly, deeply, and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Ben grunted and pressed the heel of his hands against his eyes. She wondered if it was the dust getting to his eyes or if he felt like crying too.

“I don’t—I don’t know how to handle this,” he confessed.

“Me neither,” she said, her voice small. Her hand reached out and touched his nearest arm. “I’m so sorry.”

“Huh?” His forearms rested over his stomach as he looked at her. “Why?”

“Because of the way my mother talked to you. It was awful.”

He shook his head, nose endearingly pink from his emotions. “If even one thing she said was true, then I needed to hear it. I just—I just don’t know what to do if any of it is true. I don’t know what to do if my father really did—” He choked, unable to say it.

He didn’t know what to do if his father really had torn off fairy wings, stolen people’s wands, and used necromancy. Both of them knew that such crimes would only be the thread of something much bigger.

Evie didn’t know which of them was shaking the bed or if it was both of them.

“I need to speak with Dr. Facilier,” Ben declared, trying to sound braver than he felt.

She touched his hand, and he held hers. “We need to go back to Auradon. We’ve been here long enough. We’ll—come back.” Her hesitation said enough, but Ben didn’t argue. He might not have had it in him.

The balcony doors rattled, making Evie and Ben jump up. His hand went to his sword’s hilt, but the scratching sound made her run over to the doors and throw both open. A flurry of blue and yellow feathers entered the room and landed on a perch.

“Othello!” She smiled at the macaw parrot, the sight of her old pet briefly sweeping away the weight on her chest. “Ben, come here. This is Othello. He was given to me on my sixth birthday. Isn’t he handsome? Oh, but careful he does have a mouth on him. Othello, sweetheart, how did you know I was home?”

The giant bird squawked and shook himself, settling his feathers where he wanted them. “Eeevieeee!”

“Yes, it’s me,” she said, running her fingers on the top of his head.

Othello cocked his head at Ben. “Who’s the twink?”

Evie nearly jumped out of her skin. “Then is Ben!” She said loudly, as if that would drown out how embarrassing her pet could be. “Ben, please excuse my bird. He listens to all sorts of characters on the Isle—”

“Gil, ya dumb slut!” The bird cried, flapping his wings. “Dumb slut!”

“Othello, calm down,” she commanded, stroking his beak. Slowly, he folded his wings and lost his puffed up look. “There there.”

“Eeevieee,” he squawked. “Run, dear, run.”

“I…” Evie forgot what she was going to say when Othello’s eye caught hers. In a split second, the image of two figures speaking on the docks flashed in her mind. She didn't understand how Othello did this, but Evie believed what she saw.

She turned to Ben. “We need to go.”

With a quick yet loving goodbye to Othello, they were racing down the dark stairs. Evie didn’t know how to explain it, but she felt Othello had been consciously warning her. She didn’t know how he knew to find her, but he did.

‘I’ll come back for you too.’ She didn’t know how to keep these silent promises, but Evie determined to find a way, for everyone’s sake.

As they raced into the ‘living room,’ Grimhilde looked up from the collection report she’d been reading. “What ever are you two doing out of the bedroom so quickly?”

Evie slowed her pace while stilling edging toward the door. “We have to leave, Mom. It’s—”

“Past midnight, and I only have the car until 1 AM,” Ben lied.

Grimhilde sat up and tucked the report between the arm and cushion. “In case I don’t see you until the wedding, there are a few things we must go over. I require the mother-in-law suite to face west. Early morning sunlight can cause terrible wrinkles. And, if I hear you looked at a single wedding dress without my input, I will cause a scene,” she merrily informed them.

Evie had one hand on the doorknob to the entrance hall. “Mom—”

“And you are under no circumstances to serve gooseberry pie at your wedding!”

Ben, who’d been right behind Evie, leaned closer to not-so-quietly ask, “Why gooseberry?”

“Because it’s Snow White’s signature dish. Mom, no one even eats gooseberry pie anymore—” then with a start, Evie added “—and we’re not getting married!”

Grimhilde sank back into her high-backed chair and set her heeled feet up on the coffee table. “Of course you’re not. Safe travels, dearest! And remember, west, dear, west!”

And like that, Ben and Evie closed the doors behind them.

“Your mother’s a trip,” he said good-naturedly, breathlessly. Evie smiled at him and managed a “yeah” while pulling her hood back up over her head. Without sparing another second, they were down the short entrance hall and out the front doors.

The cold air of the Isle after midnight wrapped around them, soaking their clothes in a damp cold, carried by the wind off the ocean. Ben stretched his beanie over his head and huffed out a warm, visible breath. Evie took care to lock up behind her. When she stored the key back in her purse, she noticed Ben’s hands gripped his sword and sheath.

His voice was tense. “Evie.”

She looked up, to the other side of the drawbridge, and she understood why Othello had come to warn her. Blocking their path stood Harry and Gil, both smirking as if they’d won the grand prize.

Harry cackled and grinned, barring his teeth. “Ya see, Gil n’ I were comparin’ notes. Got jealous that he got to meet yer’ new friend, so we thought'd we'd pay a visit.”

The ground fell out from under her. She wished Mal, Jay, and Carlos were there. She never should have brought Ben by herself. She’d told Gil and Harry that she was there to see her mother. Then they went to—to—

“You were right, Gil. He is kinda’ hot,” came the voice of a young woman stepping from the shadows, a waterfall of aqua braids cascading from her pirate captain’s hat, “if cowardly Auradon kings are your kink.”

Uma.

Chapter Text

“Ben.”

Saying his name felt reassuring, to him, to her. It allowed her to think clearly, because they needed to escape.

Evie was halfway to unzipping her purse to grab the castle key when Harry crossed the short bridge, into their space as he placed himself between them and the door. “Don’t even think of hidin’ behind your mum’s skirts!”

The two stepped away from Harry but had to stop, because they’d placed themselves closer to Uma and Gil. Her hearted pounded. They were surrounded.

Uma shook her head in disgust. “What? You go play princess in Auradon and now you’re too good to talk to us?”

Eyes narrowed, Evie let go of her purse and said, “As if you’re just here to talk!”

“But we can talk!” Ben asserted, diplomatic to his core. “Parlay.”

The three pirates shared looks before bursting out in hyena laughter. Harry pointed his sword in Ben’s direction. “This eejit thinks we’re in the Caribbean!”

Uma, smiling from the laugh, managed to say through her teeth, “We ain’t those kinda’ pirates, Your Majesty.”

He paid no attention to the goading and kept his voice friendly. “You’re probably not the type to pay social visits without a reason either. So what do you want?”

The corners of Evie’s lips almost smiled. Despite being so morally antithetical to Isle culture, Ben could adapt and keep pace. Seeing him ready to engage in diplomacy or combat, all for her, might’ve made her heart flutter.

Uma tossed her braids over her shoulder as she regarded the king. “Same thing I’ve wanted my whole life: to get off this Isle.”

He lit up. “That’s great! We’ll get you on the list for the VK program—”

“The only ‘government assistance’ I’ve got my whole life was ya’ll’s trash!” Uma cut in so loudly that Evie wondered if her mother had heard, but she knew it was too much to hope her mother would appear to help.

‘I don’t think she could. We’re not kids anymore.’ As kids, many of them had been so nasty to each other. She feared seeing how much worse they could all be as adults.

Uma continued, pacing the draw bridge’s short width. “I’m not here to ask for anything. Auradon’s already made its mind up about us. Don’t think we didn’t notice how soon as you were gettin’ it in with Mal, that you forgot your little pity program real fast!”

Ben blushed to his ears, and Evie, always keeping one eye on Harry, levelly retorted, “The more you talk, the more obvious it is that you don’t know anything.”

The other girl scoffed. “Why am I not surprised Evie is gettin’ on her high horse? Oh wait, horses are probably too dirty for you, like the rest of us. A snob like you must love being besties with the King.”

Harry’s sharp cackling and Gil’s low “huh-huh-huh”s irked Evie. Before she could retort, Ben confidently said, “The VK program could help you get set-up for higher education or a trade. It would provide housing resources and support—”

“I said—” Uma fixed her unimpressed gaze on him “—I don’t want your pity program. I built myself a whole life without Auradon’s help. Everyone from your daddy to your girlfriend have tried to keep me down, but I’m the one running this place now, and I’m the one whose gonna liberate it, not a couple of assholes.”

Ben’s eyes shone earnestly. “You want something better for yourself and the other kids on the Isle. Let’s work on a solution together.”

Uma shook her head, and Evie thought she spied hurt somewhere in her expression. “That ship has sailed.”

Hands on her hips, purposefully blocking Ben best as she could, Evie said, “If you don’t want to talk, then beat it. We have places to be.”

Her tone lighter, Uma explained, “Oh just ‘cause we don’t plan on working with the King doesn’t meant we don’t plan on usin’ him.”

Evie wished she’d brought a sword. The only practice she had was from a few late nights when Jay taught her and Mal the sheer basics of sword fighting. They’d already let themselves get surrounded, and she needed to get them out of this situation. The moat was deeper than it looked, and they’d still have the thorns to contend with on either side. The only way out was either past Harry or past Uma and Gil.

Harry groaned, exasperated. “Can I just get on with it already?”

“Evie looks done talkin’ to lowlife pirates like us anyway,” Uma sneered. “You can run back to Auradon, kiss Mal’s ass, then tell her I said to bring me the Fairy Godmother’s wand or else I’m feedin’ her boyfriend to the Shrieking Eels.”

Evie’s fist clenched. “You’re not hurting anyone.”

Uma snorted like it was a mildly funny joke. “Grab him, Harry.”

Harry’s heavy footsteps shook the drawbridge, and that was enough for Evie to whip around and punch Harry square in the jaw. His head snapped to the side, his eyes wide. Then they narrowed.

With a growl, he seized her arms and forcefully threw Evie aside — toward the moat.

She saw Ben’s hand reach out for her. But this wasn’t the museum, and he didn’t catch her before he had to unsheathe his sword. Evie saw a flash of steel, the red blossoming on Harry’s arm, just before hitting the water. The scream she’d heard coming from her throat died as she submerged down, down until her limbs remembered to swim. Her scream had barely left any air in her lungs.

Her heels made it difficult, holding her back. She couldn’t kick them off. The boots were too secure on her feet. She relied on her arms, but they quickly tired. Her layers of clothes weighed her down. Her tight jacket restricted her arms.

But there was no giving up. And somehow, her head broke through the water. She gulped air.

“HELP!” she screamed before she could see what was going on.

Her sore legs lethargically treaded water. Just as she started to sink back down, she heard Ben’s voice.

“EVIE!”

He sounded far away, voice faintly echoing in the street.

Then she was back underwater. Her arms went up then pushed down on the water to force herself back up. Cold air hit her face and lungs again. Blinking, she saw the drawbridge above her empty.

“Ben!” she gasped. She felt so tired, and the water was cold. She couldn’t keep this up. Her heels felt like cement blocks, straining her knees as she kicked.

Evie went back under, her mind grasping to think logically about how to save herself when panic gripped her. The drawbridge was too high to reach. She’d have to climb up the embankment, into the thorns. They could cut her up terribly, but she’d be alive. That was the only way.

Just as Evie summoned the last of her energy, firm hands gripped one arm then the other. They abruptly hauled her up. Suddenly not just her head but her torso, waist, then legs were enveloped in frigid night air. The hard, wooden drawbridge supported her whole body, filling Evie with relief.

Arms freed, she sat up on her side and pushed her hair from her face, her hood down and exposing her hair tangled over her horns.

“Blimey they grow up fast. I remember when your head was smooth on top!” said a distinctly Cockney accent.

Evie caught her breath and took in stock of her surroundings. Ben and the pirates were gone, and in front of her were two people she never expected showing up to save her.

Her work of art complete, Mal wrapped the canvas in the torn yellow fabric which Carlos had sacrificed to his razor. She’d been enthusiastic in painting a portrait of Carlos with Dude in his arms, but the idea of presenting it rendered her mildly embarrassed. She’d never really given someone a gift outside of some kind of obligation, like birthdays. The one time she tried, it ended in an argument with Ben and the current tension in their relationship. She should have painted a portrait of her boyfriend, but she told herself that would be the next project. Maybe if she worked quickly enough, she could have it completed in time for the cotillion.

Wanting as few people to notice her as possible, because people in Auradon were annoyingly nosy, Mal waited until a late hour in the evening before leaving the girls’ dormitory wing and making her way undisturbed to the boys’. Judging by what Jay said earlier, Carlos was likely to still be up and working on whatever project had made him kick Jay out.

Gift tucked under her arm, she knocked on the door. No one responded. Light came from the crack under the door, so someone was there.

She knocked again to the same result.

Huffing impatiently, she turned the brass knob and let herself in. She looked first to the beds, both made per Auradon Prep’s standards for dormitory living. Dude didn’t bat an eye from where he snoozed on his dog bed.

A glimpse of white drew her eye to a corner of the room, where Carlos sat cross legged on the floor with his emblem headphones blocking out noise. It would have been the perfect opportunity for Mal to prank him, but the thought didn’t cross her mind, not because she was suddenly good, but because of what he worked on.

Mal knew violet was not brighter than yellow. And yet, there was the ballgown, absolutely shining. The portrait left her mind, then her grip, before clattering to the floor.

Carlos jumped to his feet and yanked his headphones down, making his ears red. The pair stared dumbly at each other.

“Is that for me?” Mal knew the answer. Everything about the dress from its many violet hues, the tattered cape, and the faux-burnt edges suited her perfectly. She just wanted to hear him say it.

“Well,” he stared at her with those big, uncertain brown eyes, “it’s not exactly in my size. Or color.”

Some kind of feeling Mal didn’t have words for overcame her. It was far from a panic attack, yet her blood was rushing.

“Look, you are—” He took a deep breath “—you’re beautiful in whatever you wear. The yellow dress will beat anyone else’s, but yellow doesn’t make you happy, and I want you to be happy, so I made a second dress for you, because you deserve to be—”

She wasn’t lost in a dream. No spell was cast over her. Destiny had no hand. Mal was fully in her mind when she chose to cross the space between them, take the face her hands knew so well, and kiss him.

His lips felt familiar, like her bed, so she pressed closer. Mal loved the way his lips hesitantly moved against her, because she knew this was his first kiss. No one could ever kiss him and escape the ghost of Mal on him. Or, at least she wanted to think she could kiss him in such a way that would linger.

She forgot about anything beyond his lips, face, jaw, and neck. Her thumb traced his sensitive skin under his chin. She loved this. She felt powerful. Her fingertips tingled. Something like fire shot up her spine.

‘Holy shit. It’s magic.’

She gripped the back of his neck while her nails dug into the black hair at the nape of his neck. Her elbows pressed into his chest, trying to force him backward into the wall, when his lips somehow escaped hers.

“Mal, sto—“

Her lips captured his again and swallowed whatever came next in an open-mouth kiss. She’d imagined it. He’d been breathless and barely comprehensible. Then his hands finally touched her, grasping her shoulders and prying her away.

“Mal.” Her name was a whisper.

She watched his lips, expecting them to betray her, when he suddenly leaned forward in another, quick kiss like someone stealing one more bite of a dessert they’d sworn off.

They’d kissed three times so far, and damn, she wanted to keep going that night until she lost count.

“We can't.”

She looked at him from under her eyelashes and smirked. “We just did.”

He moved away from her, and then he blinked. Twice. Three times. Then—

“Mal, your hair—! Y-you’re purple again!”

She momentarily forgot about making out with Carlos and looked around his room for a mirror. Trust boys to not have one! So, she grasped her ends and held them up. Her long, smooth hair was a vibrant, warm violet.

Her voice went high and jumpy. “Is my whole head like this?!”

“Just your hair,” he said flatly, like a bad joke.

Quickly, she began muttering, “Make it blonde and full of thunder—” Green sparks danced around her fingertips “—so everyone will stare in wonder.”

With a shimmer and flash of green sparks, her hair transformed back into a fairy tale fair blonde. Her jumpy nerves settled. Kissing Ben had never ruined any of her spells before, so it made no sense why three kisses with Carlos brought out her real color. Mal wondered if her spellbook might have the answer, but that was for later. The problem was solved, and Carlos was standing right there, looking thoroughly kissed.

‘Although, I could get a little more thorough than that.’

“C’mere. I missed a spot.” She reached out, her fingers grazing soft t-shirt material before he half-stepped back.

“It’s not like we can just keep doing…that…”

He circled to the other side of the work table, and Mal traced her hand along the rim as she closed in on him. They both knew she could close that space again and he wouldn’t even try moving fast enough to escape her.

“We can. I’ll show you how.”

“Is that something you learned from Ben?”

She stopped. Him mentioning Ben had been meant to stop her, even shame her. She didn’t even know where Ben was. Maybe she’d been glad Ben hadn’t invited her on a date. Her night now had a zero percent chance of being interrupted by his parents or cameras. There was no risk of her forcing smiles or conversation with nobility. Instead, there was a high chance she’d get to enjoy what beautifully full lips Carlos had. And it would never make the morning news with commentary from nosy newscasters.

“Talk less.”

One step, two, three, and one hand curled around the back of his neck. The dark painted nail of her index finger lightly traced the outline of his bottom lip. He watched her, completely frozen under her touch. She amusedly wondered if he’d realized his hands were on her waist.

“So how long have you been picturing this?” she drawled.

Gulping, he then spoke, careful not to dislodge her finger. “You have a boyfriend.”

Her finger stilled at the center of his bottom lip. “…What?”

Then slowly, he turned his head away. “You have Ben.”

Her nails lightly scraped the back of his neck as she clenched and unclenched her jaw. “Who you beat in a duel for me. You made a whole extra dress for me.” She shook her head, not understanding him. “Stop pretending we haven’t been flirting this whole time.”

Carlos looked as tortured as she felt. Several times she thought he might finally say something, but he struggled until finally managing, “I—I can’t.” He pulled away from her and held up a hand to keep her back. “I can’t mess up everything we’ve worked for. As long as we stay in line, we can keep our lives here in Auradon.”

She felt unsteady as she stared with betrayal in her eyes. “What happened to the Carlos who said fuck the rules, he was going to win?”

He looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Mal, wake up. This is a step too far.”

She advanced, and his arm bent, hesitant to touch her. “You are not a coward!” Her fingers pointedly tapped her chest. “And I am not risking the best thing to ever happen to me for a coward!”

He sharply looked aside and scoffed, disgusted.

“What?” she dared him to answer.

His brown eyes turned back on her, and there was that Carlos. “The best thing to ever happen to you? Mal—” His arm dropped back to his side “—how much did you eat at that fancy dinner party after I left? Why is your collar bone sticking out so much? Why is the best thing to ever happen to you making you lose a dress size in two weeks?!”

Her fingers raked through her hair, and she realized she was trembling.

“You look miserable!” Carlos went on, gesturing at the blank TV screen on his wall. “I watch you, and your smiles are so fucking fake!” He held his arms out to her and continued, voice raised. “When do you get to be happy, Mal?”

‘I’m doing this for you, for Jay, for Evie!’ The words wouldn’t come out.

She wanted to squeeze her hands over her ears. “Shut up!”

“Because it’s not going to be when you get married! It’s not when you’re crowned High Queen and definitely not when you start giving him kids!”

She was losing control, panicking. ‘I’m trying to do the right thing!’

Her whole body was shaking. She couldn’t breathe.

But he was relentless. “Then your oldest turns sixteen, gets crowned just like Ben, and then what, Mal?! Are you happy then?! When half your fucking life is over?! You won’t even know who are you are!”

“SHUT UP!”

Her hands clawed for books, papers, pens, and anything she could send hurtling to the ground. A lamp split into pieces on the rug. Dog treats scattered and rolled across the hardwood. Under the chaos and crashing, her breath devolved into a dry sob.

Her mother, Ben, Auradon, the Isle — they were tearing her apart. She could almost hear them, demanding she kill one side of herself so the other can live. There was only one way to be, and she had to choose.

“Be evil like me, Mal!”

Batteries popped out of the remote upon impact.

“Be good, Mal!”

A wooden chair scuffed the floor.

“Be the one to free more kids from the Isle, Mal!” She laughed, weak yet hysterical. “Cause it’s all up to you to be everything everyone wants you to be!”

Another swipe of her hands sent hollow energy drink cans clattering everywhere. The destruction did something for her, kept her tears at bay. She could feel the desire for chaos building and spilling over in her chest as her eyes glowed poison green. It fed off her emotions. Her head tilted back as her powers flowed through in her veins. Her shoulders hunched up as her hands contorted, unspoken curses thrumming at her fingertips.

Arms wrapped around her. Her face came down into his shirt. She inhaled the faint scent of laundry detergent and didn’t fight it. A sob wracked her chest, and she pushed her face deeper into the worn fabric to stifle it.

“This is me getting to be happy!” she yelled into his shirt, her throat straining. “I’m doing this for all of us! I just…”

‘I just want to be happy.’

“I’m sorry.” His warm breath tickled her hair as his cheek pressed against her head. “I’m sorry.”

Her hands desperately clutched at him, and she loudly cried all while he whispered the same apology. Mal had never felt so pathetic in her life. When her stream for tears began to dry up, his shoulders dropped, but his arms remained tightly around her. He’d stopped apologizing.

She felt his arms slide down to her lower back, giving them barely enough space to pull apart. His eyes went from her neckline, up her collarbone, neck, then her green eyes.

Softly, he said, “You don’t have to be Lady of the Court.”

Mal didn’t know why that made her shiver.

“I—I do love Ben,” she confessed, throat weak. “And I can do a lot of good as Queen. And no one would ever threaten to banish you.”

His arms abruptly left her, and Carlos was retreating by a foot. “Then we’re just friends.”

“No,” she started, following after him. Mal straightened the red collar of his button-up shirt with the satisfaction of knowing she’d messed it up. “You could…keep being my stylist…”

Carlos’ eyes widened as he finally stopped playing ignorant to her hints. “You’re in one hell of a calorie deficit if you think being a stylist means taking clothes off instead of putting them on.”

Mal pushed her hands against his stomach so she could make him look in her green eyes, bright with barely suppressed power. “I want you to be with me.”

He stepped out of her reach again, walking away from her and distracting himself by kneeling on the ground to pick-up pens, batteries, and other victims of her wrath. Without even looking at her, Carlos said almost to himself, “If I thought there was a chance in Hell this could end well…”

“Stop mumbling and say what you mean,” Mal commanded, her voice stronger with frustration.

He stood up and dropped a couple bent textbooks on the work table. Louder, he told her, “Use your head, Mal! There’s no logical way what you’re proposing has a happy ending for either of us! Let the crown go or let me go!”

Mal, startled, couldn’t think of a snappy comeback. She couldn’t believe he’d say that, as if Ben wasn’t a factor in this. She loved him and her friends enough to suffer the celebrity of royalty, the rude questions, the invasive cameras, and the endless pressures.

“Let you go?” she echoed, her chest hollow just saying it. “I’ve done everything I can to protect you since getting here.”

She’d fought her own mother, made that truth gummy, told Jane off, cheered for him in the duel, and stuck by his side when King Beast wanted him thrown out. How dare he?

Carlos inhaled a steadying breath. “You can’t kiss me tonight and Ben tomorrow. I’m—” he walked over to the mannequin with its nearly finished dress “—not the kind of guy who does anything halfway, and I won’t commit treason for just half a relationship.”

He turned back, looking at her. “As long as you’re wearing a crown, I won’t touch you. Ever again. I’ll move on. I’ll meet someone new.”

Her jaw dropped. If only he’d slapped her instead, she wouldn’t feel so betrayed. ‘How could he?’ echoed in her mind.

Mal fought down the horrible sadness bubbling in her chest and vehemently decided she was over crying. No, Mal wouldn’t let him do this to her. She wasn’t going to let Carlos De Vil kiss her then walk out that door to give it to someone else.

“Eat that truth gummy I gave you and say that again,” she challenged. “I know you. I know you didn’t toss something that valuable. So get it out, take a bite, and tell me that again.”

His eyes widened, making Mal think she was back on top, before his jaw clenched and his pointed at the door. “Get out. I wish you’d never kissed me.”

The rejection stung like a slap. “You kissed me back!” Mal victoriously watched him brightly blush under those freckles. “And I’m not sorry, because when I’m with you, I–-” her voice broke “—I feel like someone actually sees me.”

She laughed self-deprecatingly. “And you’re the only person who doesn’t think I should change who I am. So you know what? Fine. It’s cheating—”

“It’s treason!”

“—but it’s when I get to be happy!”

Just as the tips of his ears started reddening with frustration, he closed his eyes and seemed to count. When his eyes opened, he’d regained control. “You’re not thinking clearly. Drink some water, eat a few crackers, then maybe reconsider asking me—”

A jarring ringing cut him off. He slipped his phone out of his back pocket and checked the screen. Before he could accept or decline, Mal seized his phone and tossed it on his bed, where it slid across the covers then fell between his mattress and the wall.

“Hey, that was Evie!”

Mal grabbed his face and made Carlos look directly at her. “Say you don’t want me.” His hands landed on her forearms, but he didn’t push her away. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

She wanted to wear him down, to break his resolve, and to hear him say he was being driven out of his damn mind over her. She wanted to hear his fantasies about her, what he couldn’t help but to admire when he looked at her. Mal needed to experience every aspect of how much Carlos adored her.

And she knew he did, because hanging on that mannequin was the most gorgeous dress she’d ever seen in her life.

His jaw barely moved in her grip. “I don’t.”

She shoved his face to the side. “Liar!” Her limbs were shaky again, and that unstable feeling returned to her chest.

Her arms raised as if to shield her face as she exclaimed, “You’re such a fucking liar!” Then she turned and ran, purposefully swatting the dummy so the violet dress plummeted to the floor with everything else. She heard Carlos call her name, but there no was no stopping her from throwing open the door and barging out –- not even the person’s face on the other side.

“OW!” Chad cried while clutching at his nose, where her unforgiving hand smacked him. The prince stumbled back against the hallway wall and slid down, crying and cursing the entire way.

Mal stalled at the pathetic sight, realizing there’d she gone again. When she panicked, something or someone got hurt every time. There she was, bad even when she didn’t mean to be.

Carlos burst into the hallway after her, and Mal sprinted away with part of her crying out, ‘Catch me. Stop me. Say you want me.’

“OOHH MY NO–oh, hey.” Chad paused his pained groaning. “Can I use your 3D printer?”

“Fuck off, Chad!” The De Vil slammed and locked his door to keep the prince from getting any ideas. Standing over him, Carlos added, “And I better not catch you using it again!”

Mal didn’t hear him call her name, probably to not draw attention, but his footsteps pounded the carpet in her direction. Her own carried her down the corridor’s runner. The closer he came, the more she struggled with what she wanted from this. Part of her wanted to keep pace, let him gain until he caught her, apologized, and said they’d figure this out together. But Mal didn’t believe in fairy tale endings for someone like her. So, she shoved open one of the double oak doors and ran outside the dormitory.

“Mal!” Carlos hissed, close behind her now.

She’d just stepped down to the gravel walkway when his hand grasped her arm. The mere touch made her spin on the ball of her foot.

“What, Carlos?!” she hissed, venomous. “What?!”

“Don’t run away,” he whispered so heatedly that her anger wavered.

His hand lingered on her arm, and they silently realized how close they stood. He stood with one foot on the step, one foot stepping toward her on the gravel. Neither moved.

‘Tell me I’m not the only one going crazy.’

“Why?” Her tone matched his.

His mouth opened to answer then hung there, useless like when he tried asking Jane to the cotillion. The moment felt like deja vu seeing him faintly stutter and stare helplessly, longingly.

He’d nearly kissed her that day he’d torn her dress to pieces. Mal knew she hadn’t misread when he smiled at her from his window the day it rained or the way he looked at her after defeating Ben in a duel.

All of that meant something, she told herself. To both of them.

She needed to hear him say that violet dress was stitched together with his thoughts, daydreams, and yearning for her.

His hand finally slid down and away from her arm, leaving it tingling. “Mal – Evie?”

Carlos looked past Mal, who turned to see Evie, fair skin flushed, running toward them. Seeing her perfectly beautiful best friend disheveled raised its own alarm bells, but what stunned the two moreso was seeing Evie in one of her old VK outfits. The older girl was the last person Mal ever expected to see donning leather and fingerless gloves again.

“I’m so glad you’re both here!” she breathlessly exclaimed.

Carlos went around Mal and held out his arms to catch Evie as she jogged to a stop in front of them. She leaned against him for support as she caught her breath, lungs burning.

“Why are you wet?” he asked, her jacket cold and damp to the touch.

“We need to talk,” Evie wheezed. “The four of us.”

Mal could still hear those declarations about them being Auradon girls, forgetting the Isle, and forgoing her magic. Those words — Evie’s words — rang in her ears and blood every time she sat in diplomatic meetings, televised interviews, and photo ops.

“Why are you dressed like that?!” Mal asked with such unexpected aggression that her friends jumped. ‘Why are you dressed like that while I’m here in blonde hair and a dress?!’

The fury built in her chest then rose up her throat to burn in her glowing, green eyes.

Evie didn’t miss a beat. “Uma has Ben.”

Her head swirled with thoughts of Ben, her father, her mother’s accusations against Auradon, and the Lost Revenge’s crew. She knew every second spent there was another second Ben spent as Uma’s captive. Her imagination came up with numerous ways they could be mistreating or torturing him. And everything, all of it was her fault. She should’ve been open with her friends and asked them to come instead.

Evie had thrown the tarp off the limousine, leaving it where it fell, and peeled off. Her determination was all that kept her from losing her cool on the long drive on the faintly glimmering, magical bridge temporarily stretching from the Isle to shore. Despite her best attempts to stay level-headed, she’d hit the curb more than a few times on her race back to Auradon Prep.

Just when she thought how lucky it was for her to find Carlos and Mal readily outside, that feeling dissipated. Quickly coming over her was the unnerving sense something had happened while she was gone. Evie wondered if she imagined the powerful energy between them, as if they’d quarreled.

Normally, she had an excellent pulse on how everyone in their group was getting along. Yet, the way she caught them on the steps, standing close, looking to intently at each other left her uneasy. Maybe she could have written it off if they’d speak, say anything on the way back to the boys’ dorm.

‘They know better than to talk about this out in the open,’ Evie assured herself right before they walked inside, Carlos first.

Jay was already there, carefully standing the mannequin back up and testing its balance before letting go. When he saw Carlos, he held up his hands. “I didn’t knock it over.”

“I know,” Carlos flatly replied.

Jay waved a phone charger in one hand. “Just came back for this. Oh and uh, why is all of your stuff on the floor?”

Carlos kicked aside some of the rubbish in his way, moodily replying, “Your stuff is always on the floor.”

“Yeah, ‘cause your stuff is always on the table. We had a system.”

Evie head them talking, but her eyes were full of the dress. She recognized the fabrics Carlos had borrowed and marveled at the beautiful construction. Cruella had been known for her silhouettes and attention to creating interesting shapes, and Carlos had clearly learned something from working in her fashion house. Layers with faux-burnt, artfully uneven edges formed the full skirt. She imagined the movement would be mesmerizing. Then there was the bodice with the lime green threading forming a V-shape, where black studs sparkled over black lace.

This was the showstopper, the dress to out do everyone at the Royal Cotillion.

And it had been knocked over but not by Jay.

Stomach sinking, Evie understood why Carlos had not come to her with any complaints about styling Mal. ‘Oh no. Carlos…’

She could picture it, him presenting this dress, confessing his feelings, and Mal rejecting him. Evie gave Mal the credit that she must have tried to be nice about it, but maybe in an attempt to be firm, she’d gone too far. Yet, she couldn’t imagine Carlos ever forcing his feelings on anyone. They’d quarreled over something else, Mal may have knocked over the mannequin, and then she’d run out with him following.

‘But what would they argue over?’

Evie closed the door, to both the dorm room and that line of thought. “We need to focus.” She observed the way Carlos and Mal stood at different sides of the room.

Jay, standing closest to his roommate, crossed his arms and leaned sideways toward him. “So did you say anything to…?”

“Strangling you is still on the table, Jay.”

Pressing her lips together, Evie stomped to the middle of the room, where an empty can crunched underfoot. “Can anyone focus on what I just said?!”

Jay shifted foot to foot, frustrated. “What’s going on?”

“That’s a really great question, Jay,” Mal said with a biting edge. “Evie was just saying that Uma — who should be as irrelevant as ever — has Ben.”

The blue-haired girl set her jaw, not wanting to waste time on Mal’s temper. “Uma wants—” she lowered her voice “—the Fairy Godmother’s wand in order to free the Isle.”

Mal scoffed, as if insulted by such a basic, uninspired plot that was so two years ago.

“She’ll give us Ben in exchange for the wand,” Evie said, looking them each in the eye. “Obviously, we can’t do that—”

“Why did you put Ben in danger in the first place?” Mal pushed, hitting a sore spot. Evie didn’t know how to justify her decision anymore. It had made sense at the time.

If Mal had wanted one more reason to be angry, Jay didn’t.

“Better question,” he guided them back on subject, “is how do we get Ben back.”

Carlos lit up with inspiration and rushed to open his laptop, still next to the 3D printer on the room’s center table. “Evie’s right. Obviously we can’t give her the wand,” he rushed through his explanation, fingers flying across the keyboard as he input his passphrase. “So we give her a dummy.”

Mal stomped over to Carlos and gestured like she was going to snap the laptop shut before he put a protective hand over the screen. “If it’s not an exact replica, we’re screwed! Uma will throw Ben to the sharks if it’s even a little plastic!”

Evie watched him give Mal an uncharacteristic side-eye while saying, “I’m trying to save your boyfriend. Have some faith that I know what I’m doing.”

The change in their dynamic seemed so obvious now. Carlos wasn’t cow towing to her anymore, but Evie didn’t know what had suddenly made him so bold with Mal. Scenes flashed before her eyes. Mal curling her hands over his shoulder and asking him something about “three things,” Mal consistently sitting next to Carlos when the four gathered for lunch or library work — details that were so small and easy to overlook until Evie feared maybe Mal and Carlos’ relationship had become drastically more complicated, and she knew nothing of it.

The blue-haired girl looked at Jay, who stood with arms crossed. “Do you know what’s been going on with them?”

Jay exhaled, his expression both annoyed and long suffering. “Carlos is possessed by his mother and won’t be normal again until he stops making dresses for Mal.”

Carlos, who’d still been in heated conversation with Mal about what they’d to do make the wand convincing, raised his voice to interject, “It’s complicated, Jay.”

Jay squinted in confusion. “You being crazy seems pretty straightforward to me.”

The reply came out with surprising bite. “All I tried to do was make Mal happy, but that was a dumb idea.”

Evie watched Mal’s expression fall. Her hand landed near his on the table before she leaned closer and desperately, softly said, “But you do make me happy.”

His shoulders fell. Face lit from the screen’s blue light, Carlos looked at Mal with kinder eyes. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he visibly fought with his words.

Eventually, he settled on, “Let’s just save Ben.”

Evie stepped up and positioned herself between them as Jay, not wanting to be left out and simultaneously curious what Carlos was working on, appeared on the boy’s other side.

“How long will this take?” Evie asked, unfamiliar with the tech. She wanted so much to move on from what she just saw transpire between her friends.

“Two hours.” Carlos hit upload, and the machine whirred and buzzed to life.

“We don’t have two hours!” Mal pressed into Evie’s side to pressure Carlos, but the other girl elbowed her out of her space. “Ow!”

“That gives us time to work on the rest of our plan,” Evie coolly replied. She knew fully well that Mal’s mind was on the wrong boy in that moment. Mal should be reveling in any opportunity to scheme against her enemies, especially for Ben’s sake, yet instead she kept focusing on her spat with Carlos.

‘What’s going on between you and Carlos?’ she wanted to demand. ‘And why would you do that to Ben?’

Except she didn’t have any reason to think whatever happened was to Ben’s detriment. She was jumping to conclusions, so Evie kept her mouth shut.

Jay, once more demonstrating no problem focusing on the urgent problem at hand, said, “So we do a hand-off: the wand for Ben. Then, we cover our escape. Maybe we destroy the gang plank or—”

Evie’s hand landed on the large emblem brooch from Dizzy as the hair dye over the bath rub came to her mind’s eye. “Colored smoke bombs! Ben and I ran into little Dizzy — she works at Curl Up and Dye — and they should have everything we need for colored smoke bombs!”

Then the issue presented itself: who would stay with Carlos to wait on the fake wand while she and another of the Core Four went to see Dizzy about their escape plan? Evie felt guilty at her own hesitation but pushed through with the plan she knew needed to happen, for Ben’s sake.

‘Focus on Ben.’

Her heart ached for him. He didn’t deserve any of this. When she felt overwhelmed or lost in the mysteries unfolding around them, Ben always put her first.

‘I promise I’ll save you.’

“Mal and I will go ahead to the Isle,” Evie declared, earning attentive looks from all three. “Jay, you’ll stay with Carlos and follow after us when you’re done. We’ll be at the Tremaine’s salon.”

“I’ll have to drive you guys there and come back,” Jay pointed out, prompting Evie to pull the limousine key from her pocket and toss it to him. Eager for any chance to drive, he grinned at the silver key. This was turning out to be a fine night for Jay, who’d once told Evie about conspiring with Mal about stealing Cruella’s Panther De Ville for a joy ride.

Mal pursed her lips before admitting her own resolution to that problem of rides. “Ben gave me a motorized scooter Evie and I can take.” She side-eyed the other girl. “I’ll have to use magic to get us across the water. But that’s only fine when it’s sanctioned by the Fairy Godmother, right? Because magic is frowned upon?”

Jay “oooohed” while Carlos paused and turned his head, apprehensively waiting for the outcome.

Evie drew herself up to her height and all two inches she had over Mal. “Ben is in danger and all you can think about is yourself and how angry you are at me.”

Mal defensively snapped, “And whose fault is that?”

“What did you say?” Evie may have been sweet, but she’d learned from Mal how to give attitude.

But Evie had a lot to learn. “I said who took him to the Isle and put him in danger?” Mal turned her body away from the 3D printer and toward Evie. “Who would be so stupid, E? Hm?” Her voice rose just before dropping its barefaced sarcasm. “And why would she do something so stupid?!”

Mal stepped forward, inches from the other girl’s face. Evie stood her ground and regarded the shorter girl with an even expression. Jay, alarmed by the escalation, took a step back, but it was Carlos, closest to the girls, who forced himself to jump in. His palms firmly pressed against Mal’s shoulders.

“Woah, woah,” he sputtered as Mal’s cutting glare went to him for interrupting. “The only way we can help Ben is by finding out what happened—”

“Working on that, Carlos!”

He released her. “Then stop picking fights, Mal!”

His outburst surprised Evie, who watched the anger on Mal’s features crack. Then to Evie’s shock, Mal took a step back from her but not without an angry look at Carlos.

“If I’m the bad guy, then why is Evie avoiding telling us why they were on the Isle in the first place?”

Carlos shook his head resolutely. “Stop making this about you when it’s not about either of us.” He set the computer chair upright and sat down so he could set to work on the wand. “I’ll get this wand done in half the time I told you, so get over to the Tremaines’ salon.”

Evie’s hand touched the back of his chair, but she held back, sensing Carlos wanted to be left alone. “Thank you.”

He curtly nodded without a break in his typing and clicking.

Jay was more than ready to be the one to conversationally ask, “So why did you guys go to the Isle?”

“Um—” Evie touched the back of her hood and shortly debated with herself. In the face of her consequences for not including her friends sooner, she knew an explanation was owed to them.

“This.” She pulled down her hood and revealed a pair of elegantly curving horns.

Jay merely flinched, surprised but not sure how to react otherwise to the last thing he ever expected. Carlos momentarily forgot about recreating the wand and stared, wide-eyed. Mal, jaw dropped, was the only person whose eyes lit with recognition.

“You have horns? You?” she said, affronted. “You have to have really powerful dark magic running in you to grow horns. My mom never stopped reminding me I wasn’t good enough for horns, and I wasn’t fairy enough for wings.”

Mal’s voice jumped from bitter to high and sarcastic. “But look at you, Evie! Congrats!”

“She didn’t ask for this,” Carlos reprimanded Mal before looking at Evie with new understanding. “All of those hats make sense now. Was this the reason for your headaches?”

“Yeah,” she said weakly, nervous to show even her friends, especially after Mal’s reaction. “It’s been a couple of days since my last one, so I think they’re done growing.”

The shock wearing off, Mal crossed her arms and pointedly said, “This still doesn’t explain why you went to the Isle.”

Evie chewed on a corner of her lip then stopped, remembering her mother telling her that would make her look puffy. Then, with guilt coloring her voice, Evie confessed everything. She told them about needing Ben to get to the Magic Mirror, finding it broken, and its mysterious message directing them to the Isle. She insisted she’d tried dissuading Ben, but he wanted to help, so she let him.

“Yeah, this makes that one conversation we had with him make way more sense,” Jay said with a look over to Carlos, who listened while finishing set-up and beginning to print the decoy. “He kept asking about what to look out for on the Isle.”

Mal rested her hand on her cocked hip. “And you seriously didn’t think maybe he was planning to go?”

“No,” Carlos cut in. “Because we actually thought he was smart. So much for that.”

Not thrown off by their quips, Evie continued unraveling their short but eventful trip to the Isle. Though she’d only skimmed over Gil’s advances on Ben, all three picked up on it. Carlos sighed about how some things never changed, Mal slapped her hand over her face, and Jay laughed.

Evie did not mention her mother assumed she and Ben were secretly in a relationship. That night was messy enough without feeding unnecessary jealousy and suspicion.

Except now Evie wondered if she’d been keeping her friends on the outside of her problems because she liked having an adventure with just her and Ben. They’d worked in sync together at the museum. Adding anyone else would have interrupted their dynamic.

‘And at the party, we had so much fun dancing together. Just the two of us.’

“And then what?” Mal interrupted her thoughts. “You guys left your mom’s place, then…?”

Evie blinked, recalling where she’d left off. “Then we ran into Uma and her crew. Ben and Harry fought, but…well…”

Carlos, with the 3D printer quickly working beside him, turned so his elbow went over the chair’s back. “But here we are.”

“What exactly did Uma say?” Mal asked.

Evie swallowed. “To bring the Fairy Godmother’s wand, or else Ben walks the plank.”

Jay shook his head, frowning at the fate awaiting their friend. “They’ll feed him to the sharks.”

“Shrieking eels, actually.” Evie told herself repeatedly on the drive back and again now that no more harm would come to Ben. Like a mantra, she told herself she wouldn’t let it, that she had the power to protect her friends.

“Whatever,” Mal wrote off the threat. “Uma’s finding out tonight why she was never good enough to be in my squad. Evie and I are going to the Isle. Carlos, finish the wand. Jay, grab some swords in case there’s a fight.”

Evie’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Mal from the corner of her eye, but she blinked it away and nodded in solidarity with the plan. Something ugly bubbling within her wanted to ask the other girl where she got off taking charge, as if this wasn’t the plan Evie had laid out several minutes ago. But, Evie swallowed her pride and dedicated to putting Ben first, just like he’d done for her.

Nothing bad would happen to him. Evie wouldn’t let it.

But one last thing.

Leaning down toward Carlos, she quietly said, “By the way, Horace and Jasper told me to tell you hello.”

Chapter Text

“What was it like seeing your mom again?”

It was the first time Mal spoke since they’d boarded her electric scooter. She’d wasted no time casting a float spell that allowed the tires to barely skim over the streets they sped down. Evie’s horns forced her to forgo a helmet, but at lease the goggles fit. Wind whipped their clothes as Mal went full speed down hill. Then as they zipped down the wooden pier, Evie’s stomach plummeted a second before they did off the pier and into the sea.

Her heart went to her throat. Memories of her limbs growing weaker, hands reaching for the surface, nearly drowning blinded her.

Mal’s magic corrected the scooter, lifting up to skim over the water, leaving a spray in their wake. Relief settled over her tense muscles, making her loosen her death-like grip on Mal’s waist. That’s when the other girl had posed her question.

“It was—”

So much. Her mother had been more than happy to share how much she knew. She’d been just as happy to plan for Evie’s marriage to Ben — not that anything like that was going on. Of course her mother had jumped to conclusions on that. Whenever a young Evie worried to her mother about the future, her mother said the same thing.

“—what I expected. No questions about school, my boutique, anything. She just wanted to talk about marrying someone rich and royal.” Curious how Mal would react, Evie hesitantly added, “She even thought Ben and I were—”

Mal interrupted with a snort. With her sitting in front, Evie couldn’t see her friend’s expression.

“Please tell me you told her you were dating a dwarf’s son instead of a king,” Mal said, mirthful and malicious.

“I wouldn’t word it that way,” Evie said over the waves rumbling beneath them. The water’s cold spray hit their boots.

Mal had changed into her old VK clothes before leaving and complained they were getting tight. It wasn’t her first not-so-subtle hint to Evie about wanting new Isle-style attire, but the blue-haired girl had been denying her request. She’d said Mal had more use for dresses, capelets, and high heels. After this adventure, Evie decided she would indulge her with one new outfit for situations where they had to return.

The scooter bounced up then down as it magically avoided a particularly tall crest, causing Evie to cling again. Even Mal determinedly gripped the handlebars to maintain control.

“But seriously, your mother is so crazy if she thought you and Ben were a thing.”

Evie remembered how Mal’s joking tone could sound a little mean. She really shouldn’t be feeling so paranoid about it.

“I mean, you’re so grossly in love with Doug,” Mal teased. “And you and Ben together would be so boring. And can you say goodbye Four Hearts Boutique? Getting with Ben would mean giving up everything.”

Evie suddenly felt like the new girl at Dragon Hall again, hoping, “Yeah, you’re right. I am in  love with Doug” were the right words. But, Evie had never said she’d loved Doug. Those were three words they’d never said to each other. Instead, they were waiting for the right moment, when their puzzle piece hearts lost those awkward gaps and finally fit together.

And then Evie wondered what Mal meant by giving up everything. ‘You’ve only had to give up bad things to be with Ben. Where is this coming from?’

She wished she could see Mal’s face.

Finally, the scooter coasted up and onto dry land. Evie expected Mal to pull over so they could use the tarp she’d left behind, but she kept driving out of the dilapidated plaza and into an alleyway.

“What are you doing?!” she hissed near her ear.

“Saving time,” Mal curtly replied while driving onto the main street like she owned the place. The rude man in the aviator cap leapt out of their way and into the ladder stall. Evie heard the cacophony of crashing and cursing behind them. Mal took a sharp turn onto No Way, nearly turning them sideways.

“No one is chasing us,” Evie said between gritted teeth.

“Ben needs us,” Mal snapped over her shoulder.

In seconds, Mal squeezed the brakes and abruptly stopped in front of Curl Up and Dye. Evie, knees wobbling, couldn’t climb off that scooter fast enough. Pulling off her helmet and goggles, the other girl shook out her blonde hair and looked around, taking in the grungy side street.

“Wow,” she breathed more than said.

“Wow what?” Evie pulled off her goggles, which had kept her hood in place over her horns. “It looks the exact same as when we left.”

Mal’s tone became wistful. “That’s just it. It still looks like home.”

Worry swept over Evie. This was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid. Mal would be so openly nostalgic for the Isle, seeming to paint the past in some rosy light. She’d talk about their time before Auradon as if it was more fun and exciting, as if she’d been more herself. And every time, Evie had to remind her of the poverty, the food shortages, and their overbearing mothers.

“It’s not home,” Evie stiffly told her while marching toward the salon doors in the same manner. “It’s a prison.”

She knocked on the metal doors and was relieved hearing Dizzy yell back, “We’re closed!” All Evie had to do was call back, “It’s me!” and the door opened in seconds.

“Come in, come in,” Dizzy ushered her then, “Mal?! Oh my gosh! You’re here too?!”

“In the living flesh,” Mal flatly replied, though she half-smiled down at the younger girl. “You’ve shot up a whole foot since I saw you.”

Dizzy, gathering their goggles and Mal’s helmet in her arms, led the way into the salon. Evie and Mal followed, the latter girl guiding the scooter inside so it didn’t get stolen.

Dumping their stuff in a salon chair, the youngest Tremaine plugged in a hair dryer and looked at Evie. “There’s no way you’re dry yet. And your mom asked me to fix your make-up if you came by. I know she’s the Evil Queen and thinks way too much about looks, but in this case, she’s not wrong.”

Mal hid her scooter behind the same curtain curtain Ben and Evie hid behind only two hours ago. “Hey Dizzy, you know the story of why Evie went for a midnight swim?”

Evie saw what she was doing. “I’m not trying to hide what happened. It just—”

Was hard to talk about. It was the scariest moment of her life. Worse than the Forbidden Fortress, and worse than facing Dragon Maleficent. She faced those challenges with her friends. But in the cold, black water of the moat, Evie had been completely alone.

Thankfully, she had some help telling the story.

“Grandma was visiting Cruella, and Cruella got a call from the Evil Queen that Uma’s crew was back on De Vil turf and bothering you,” Dizzy explained. “My Grandma hates pirates. She said Cruella was going to ignore it, but her henchmen said they’d go chase them off.”

She turned the hairdryer on, and it wheezed before dying. Dizzy grumbled and switched to another hairdryer with better luck. Evie gladly stepped closer so one by one, her limbs and torso could became enveloped in warm air. She wanted a warm bath followed by a fluffy blanket in bed.

‘Focus, Evie. Tell them what happened.’

“Harry tried going after Ben, so I punched him in the face.”

The loud whirring died as both girls looked at Evie with amazement and respect.

Dizzy in particular looked at her with big eyes. “You’re my hero.”

Evie figured her knuckles would be sore after the adrenaline died down. “Thanks, but then he grabbed me and threw me in the moat. I couldn’t get out. Ben—”

He’d cut Harry. She saw the rivulets of scarlet blood running down his arm. Evie suppressed a shiver at what they might’ve done to Ben for that. Whatever happened, it must have been violent enough to knock the car keys from his pocket and where she found them on the drawbridge.

‘But he really did it. He fought for me. Now, he’s suffering for me.’

She trembled, and Dizzy seemed to mistakenly interpret that as a sign to turn the hairdryer back on.

“—Ben fought back,” Evie continued over the hairdryer. “But they captured him. I don’t know what would’ve happened if Horace and Jasper hadn’t shown up.”

Mal, who’d not looked away from Evie’s face the entire time, recognized the lie. She whispered, “You would’ve died.”

The taller girl curtly nodded, throat tight.

“I’m gonna kill her,” Mal heatedly declared. “Uma’s only going to get more dangerous and reckless the longer we leave her alone.”

Eyebrows worriedly bunched together, Dizzy said, “She runs the Isle now, and no one is standing up to her.”

A cat-like smile pulled at Mal’s lips as her eyes narrowed gleefully. “And I’m going to remind Uma where her inferiority complex came from.”

Then considering something, Mal came closer and pulled at Evie’s hood. “Let her dry your hair too.”

Her hands clenched at the hood to keep it up. “No!”

Mal looked down at Dizzy. “Hey kid, can you keep a secret?” At her enthusiastic nodding, Mal said, “Perfect! Evie, you trust Dizzy, right?”

After a few years of friendship, Mal’s manipulations were so easy for Evie to see. Yet, even knowing what she was up to, they were well-laid traps difficult to side-step.

So, she pulled her hood back, revealing wet hair and black horns. To Evie’s shock, Dizzy didn’t even blink.

‘Right, she’s only ever known the Isle. This wouldn’t be weird to her.’ She felt a strange gratitude for the Isle’s whole-hearted embrace of weirdness.

The hairdryer died so Dizzy could put her hands on Evie’s shoulders and guide her down into the cracked cushion of salon chair. “Don’t worry, I’m a professional and will have this fixed in no time!”

While Dizzy ran off to find a round brush with most of the bristles still on, Evie looked at Mal and said, “We should be spending less time on my looks and more on the smoke bombs.”

“You heard Carlos. It’s going to take them way longer to make the decoy than it will for us to make smoke bombs. At this rate, it’ll be 4 AM before showtime.” Frowning, Mal plopped into the salon chair beside her.

Turning her head to check that Dizzy was busy also finding clean hair clips, Evie took her chance to ask, “So what’s going on between you and Carlos?”

Mal paused then broke into an embarrassed smile, almost as if she’d taken the brief moment to choose her expression.

“I can totally see what that probably looked like,” she started. “Carlos worked so hard on my yellow dress, so I’d look perfect. Every fitting, he’d asked what I thought about it. And I always said I liked it, I just didn’t like yellow. So then tonight, he shows me this amazing purple dress he made, but—”

Mal rubbed a hand over her face and smiled bitterly. “— But he kind of did it at a bad time. I’ve just been so nervous about not being good enough to be Lady of the Court, and in interviews, people won’t stop bringing up me being my mother’s daughter.”

The blonde girl shakily exhaled. “You know they asked me what my mother would think of this? Of me and Ben?”

Evie had seen that interview. She didn’t remember Mal saying anything, but she did recall Ben’s joke that lizards had more opinions on bugs than marriage.

Then she thought of that interview again and recognized the way Mal’s pale eyes looked dazed from flashing cameras. She realized it wasn’t like her quick-witted friend to silently flounder on an answer. Everything seemed fine whenever Ben quipped back and smiled for the cameras.

When Evie didn’t respond, Mal went on. “And I just got stuck thinking about it, how my mother would hate this. She probably already hates me. I mean, she’s been a lizard for almost two years. And I’m supposed to convince her to love me now when I couldn’t even do that when I tried?”

Her hand continued rubbing over her face, hiding herself. “And then Carlos shows me that dress, and I loved it, but I can’t wear it. I have to wear yellow and try harder to be Lady of the Court material. But I…I don’t know how to try harder except to be less…”

Both hands pressed over Mal’s face, muffling her words. “So I knocked the dress over and ran out, but I wanted to wear that dress. I just couldn’t—”

Mal’s face scrunched as she tried hiding behind her fingers.

“I might’ve screwed things up a little bit with Carlos.”

Evie swallowed, realizing her mouth had gone dry. She could tell that what Mal really meant things had gone down worse than she was confessing to. Standing up, she went to her best friend and gently pulled on her wrists to reveal Mal’s face. Squeezing her hands, Evie helped her out of the chair so they could stand face to face.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t see it before. I want you to know you don’t have to hold back with me. You can be completely honest when you need help.”

“I tried,” Mal choked out while looking at the ground. “But admitting how badly things were going felt like admitting I wasn’t cut out for this.”

Evie shook her head, imploring, “You were meant for this. You will always have my support. We’re part of each other, and whatever you go through, you’ll never be alone.”

Mal pressed her lips together, looking torn.

“And Carlos is one of our best friends. He’ll forgive you.”

Now Evie wondered how she’d ever mistakenly assumed Carlos and Mal had something other than friendship between them. She felt silly. Obviously, Carlos had been supporting Mal the same way Ben had done for her.

“We’re your friends, and we love you,” Evie warmly told her, wanting those words to reach her heart. “It doesn’t matter if Maleficent needs more time to realize that. You’re lovable to us, and you’re a good friend.”

She continued tightly squeezing Mal’s hands even as the other girl slouched miserably, avoiding looking at her.

Then, inhaling deeply, Mal finally looked back at her with eyes bright. “No one hurts you and gets away with it.”

Turning her head to Dizzy, who’d dumbed a pile of hair clips, heat protectant, anti-frizz cream, and hair oil on a nearby cart, Mal said, “Show me where the dyes are. I’ve got some ‘gifts’ to DIY.”

“Sooo…”

“I’m not going to bite your head off.”

“Promise?”

Carlos turned his head to look at Jay. “No.”

The older boy nodded, respecting the honesty.

After the girls left, the guys picked up their relatively ruined room with only Jay’s yawns and Carlos’ annoyed mumbling to break the silence. He felt angry and on edge, not unlike when he’d visited the castle and dueled Ben. Picking up the canvas Mal had dropped on the floor hadn’t made Carlos feel any better.

She’d painted a portrait of him holding Dude. It was him, through her eyes. For a moment, his irritability melted and revealed what had been there: the pain of wanting someone he could never have, not in the way he wanted.

‘You wanted me to give up everything to love you, and you wouldn’t give up anything.’ They’d only kissed three times, and now he’d have to suffer for it.

Seated at the large work table, Jay reclined in his chair and boredly watched Carlos add more rhinestones, tiny chains, and fake jewels to violet evening gloves.

Jay interpreted his friend’s continued work on the outfit as, “So she liked the dress?”

“Yeah. She really, really loved it,” Carlos said, his frustrated tone not matching his statement at all.

Groaning, Jay leaned his chair back and pressed his knees against the table’s edge. “So what happened?”

He abandoned his work on the table so he could tightly cross his arms. “She came in here to give me the painting.” He’d pushed a pin into the wall, between the wood panels, and temporarily hung it there. “And when she saw the dress, she kissed me.”

Jay sat up, eyes wide and awake. “She kissed you?”

Carlos gritted his teeth, already know what Jay meant. He’d thought the same thing, that it made no sense Mal, who had the golden, kingly boyfriend, would go for a cowardly, nerdy skunk like him.

“How?”

He side-eyed Jay. “I have to explain kissing to you?”

“No, I mean like—” One hand tucked under his arm, he gestured with the other “—was it a peck on the lips?”

“Making out. It was full on making out. She was literally trying to push me against the wall.”

Jay nodded appreciatively. “Hot.”

Head sharply turning toward him, Carlos looked at Jay like he’d become divorced from reality. “This is a huge problem! She’s in a long-term relationship with the king. The Royal Cotillion is literally about giving her a title so she can marry him.”

Jay gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I know it’s messed up, but you didn’t need me to tell you that. I’m here to tell you something only a best friend could.” He grinned. “Nice one stealing the king’s girlfriend.”

Carlos blinked. “But you see Ben as a friend.”

“Yeah, but I’m not talking to Ben right now,” Jay said as if it was simple math. Stretching his arms and clasping hands behind his head, he went on, “I told you you’re too hard on yourself. Girls totally want you.”

Despite himself, Carlos smiled. Count on Jay to have his back, even when he wasn’t doing the right thing.

“So is that how the dress got knocked over?” Jay asked.

Carlos exhaled, watching the printer’s hotend moving rapidly to form the wand. “No…Actually, it’s because I told her we shouldn’t be kissing when she’s still with Ben.”

Jay nodded, understanding. “Yeah, that’s a boner killer.”

“Tch.” Carlos shifted so he sat up straighter. “That’s not even half of it. She actually asked me to be her stylist permanently so we could have an affair.”

Jay snorted, and when Carlos looked at him, the ex-thief looked ready to laugh. “She seriously tried turning you into her side chick?”

Heat rushed to Carlos’ face. He didn’t like the wording, but he couldn’t deny that yes, yes she had.

“Ohhh man!” Jay leaned his head back and laughed. “Y’know, Ben might’ve suspected something when their first kid got black and white hair.”

He coughed a laugh and barely put up a fight against the smile. “Yeah well, no chance of that. I turned her down, called her out, and she threw a fit.”

Going into the full details of Mal’s meltdown and panic attack seemed too personal. He still felt terrible for yelling at her, pushing her over the edge. Holding her while she cried felt right, even more than that first day he’d showed up to work on her dress. Part of him wanted to ask if she ever let herself cry like that in front of Ben, if Ben ever held her like that, or if she only ever showed the polished parts of her personality

‘Am I the only person who gets to see the real you anymore?’

Jay let out a snort of a laugh. “She got upset that you didn’t want to make-out with her anymore?! Damn, Carlos, you gotta be some kind of natural!”

Carlos didn’t feel like he’d done half as much as Mal during their brief entanglement.

“Kissing her was—”

Liking running a red light without touching the steering wheel. It was dumb, reckless, and so, so exciting.

“—nice.” He stared moodily at the hotend as it rushed to finish the wand. “And never happening again.”

“You’ll kiss other girls,” Jay flippantly assured him. “And you’ll get over what happened with Mal.”

Carlos hated hearing Jay say that, cheapening the whole experience. He couldn’t imagine walking out that door, kissing Jane, and it remotely being similar.

Without realizing it beforehand, Carlos almost felt like he’d been waiting for this with Mal. That all of the times he noticed her beauty wasn’t from a purely objective standpoint. He liked hearing her problems just so he could make her feel better. Carlos wanted to make clothes for her that made her feel like an elevated version of herself. Some pathetic, embarrassing part of him would do anything for her.

And he absolutely wanted her to kiss him.

Settling into his chair, Carlos wished Jay would stop talking so he could mentally live in those short minutes he’d spent under Mal’s fingertips and attached to her lips. He went over it again and again. Then again and again.

He circled back to every detail until he drifted off.

In one slow blink, the hour changed, and the machine powered down. The sudden silence made Carlos groggily sit up, straightening his neck from its bent position. He leaned his head side to side and blinked until he perceived the wand, a perfect replica, completed.

He gently knocked his forearm against Jay’s chest, awakening the other boy. Carlos stood up, opened the protective glass case, and freed the wand from the print bed. He turned the wand in his hand, in awe of how perfectly believable it looked. The replica wasn’t particularly weighty, but he didn’t know how much the actual wan weighed, so it would stand Uma wouldn’t either.

“Jay, let’s go.”

The larger boy tossed up the car keys and jauntily caught them. “Let’s do it!”

They quick-changed into Isle clothing, the closest they had to armor for the dangers ahead. Carlos wanted to ask Jay if being back in the worn leather and tougher fabrics felt right to him too. The De Vil felt one step closer to that fearless version of himself which had dueled Ben. He hoped he could find that part of himself again, that it wasn’t a one time fluke.

“Sorry boy,” Carlos said when Dude sat up on his dog bed and barked. “You gotta’ stay where it’s safe.”

Dude whined and walked toward the edge of the bed, but Carlos held up his hand in a motion to stay. “Dude, I mean it. There are cats that eat dogs on the Isle.”

Not that Carlos knew of that happening, but he heard there was a reason the Isle was full of cats and devoid of dogs. The threat worked, and Dude retreated to the cat-free sanctuary of his flannel bed.

Then they were flicking off the lights, locking the door, and running down the hall. Carlos was glad Jay already had the thought to grab the training swords from R.O.A.R. to stash in the car. Ideally, that would be a last resort not due to any lack of skill but of numbers. They didn’t know how many followers Uma had accrued.

The doors burst open as they rushed out of the dorms and down the steps two at a time. The limousine was just ahead, sticking out from the shadows at the side of the building. Rocks crunched under their feet, and they’d just reached the corner when a figured leapt into view, arms spread to stop them.

“Hey! Hey! What’s this?!” Chad pointed an accusatory finger at them.“Running around at night?” He dramatically swept an arm toward the car. “Stealing the royal limousine? Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on!”

Carlos noticed the dead leaves and pine needles sticking to Chad’s baby blue sweater.

Jay snorted and asked, “Okay, Chad, what’s going on?”

He pointed his finger at Jay, opened his mouth, then closed it again. He tried speaking a couple more times before frustratedly crossing his arms and declaring, “Well whatever you’re doing is enough to get—” His face lit up with realization “—expelled! And then I’ll be Team Captain!”

Jay squinted at him. “Seriously? That’s what you’re thinking about? How’s this: Ben’s life is in danger, and if you don’t get out of the way and keep your mouth shut, then he could die.”

Chad’s expression fell. “H-he could—?”

Carlos could almost see the kitchen timer that occupied Chad’s brain tick-tick-tick then go off.

The prince’s face lit up in eureka. “Then I could be king!”

Jay grimaced. “Seriously, dude? Poor taste.”

Chad went on as if he didn’t hear him. “With Ben out of the way, I could be High King of Auradon. Oh man, the look on Chloe’s face! I’d get a picture of it — no! I’d commission a giant painting!”

He became lost in his daydream until Carlos metaphorically took his razor to it. “Chad, at least nine more people would have to die before you became king, and a serial killer you are not.”

The taller boy snorted. “Yeah well, still one person closer.” He slapped his hands together, realizing, “And Audrey would have to take me back when I tell her I got all the VKs sent back to the Isle!”

Keeping his voice down, Jay muttered to Carlos, “This is wasting our time, but the guy’s a liability now.”

Carlos recognized Chad was doing what he did best: being a nuisance. But, the last thing Carlos needed was for this misadventure to get put on blast. Even if they didn’t get exiled back to the Isle, he could see the repercussions falling on Mal.

Everyone from the royal families to reporters would be asking if it was safe for Ben to be involved with a VK. Security concerns and the King’s well-being would be a perfect excuse to cancel the Royal Cotillion, delaying Mal becoming Lady of the Court.

The only part he cared about any of that was Mal would be miserable.

It wasn’t for himself when Carlos firmly clamped a hand down on Chad’s shoulder and shook him out of his reverie.

“Chad, let’s have a long overdue talk.”

Ben’s blood was buzzing. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was shaking the mast he’d been tied to. Evie’s single cry for help echoed inside him, pulsing in his veins. He continually circled back to panic that she wasn’t okay, that he should have been faster. Harry Hook, blood pouring from the cut on his arm, tackled Ben to the ground and wailed on him until Uma grabbed Harry’s collar to pull him off.

He could still feel the dried blood running down his chin.

“Fookin’ hell, hurry up, would’ja?!” Harry hissed at Claudine Frollo, who Gil had run off to grab.

“Quit bitching. It’s not even bad,” she grumbled like a mother who was over children’s antics.

Ben wanted to feel bad, even sickened by himself for harming another person when their sword hadn’t been drawn. But when Harry forcefully grabbed Evie, Ben was done. He was done holding himself back from men who demeaned her, who harassed her.

Ben had never been so done in his life.

And now he didn’t even know if she was alive, leaving him a mix of agony and fury. His interest in offering redemption to the pirates disappeared beneath the water with her. For the first time in his life, he understood what it must have been like for his mother watching Gaston stab his father. He understood the anger, the pain, and the fear behind why his parents’ generation created the Isle of the Lost.

“Let’s see here.”

The girl who must have been Claudine circled around the mast and into view. A mass of black curls framed a pale white face that gazed at him with green eyes. A wet rag roughly scrubbed the dried blood off.

She hummed to herself before declaring, “Can’t do anything about the injuries you’re about to get.” Claudine chuckled to herself and drew the four points of the cross in the air in front of him.

“God have mercy on you,” she mocked before leaving. On her way down the gangplank, she declared to everyone else, “Don’t wake me up again over scratches or I’ll give you something to cry about!”

Hardly any time passed before Captain Hook’s son had crept up on Ben, who eyed the gauze and bandages on his bicep. When his eyes met Harry’s, he saw unbridled hate.

The hook’s curved top jabbed Ben’s jaw, painfully clicking his teeth together.

“No more pleasure cruises for you,” he taunted. “I don’t care if Mal comes for ya or not. The Shriekin’ Eels are gonna get their bellies full of royal—”

“I always thought they were called Flesh Eating Eels.” Gil appeared on Ben’s other side, distracting both boys. He munched on sunflower seeds.

Harry flinched and grimaced in disgust. “They’re called Shriekin’ Eels ‘cause that’s what they do before they eat your flesh!”

Gil spat out an empty shell that bounced off the wood deck. “But it’s a bigger deal that they eat flesh, so they should be called Flesh Eating Eels.”

“Gil, ya nitwit, you aren’t an ocean scientist!”

“Marine biologist,” Ben blurted. When both boys looked at him, he continued, “I thought sharks lived off the coast of the Isle.”

“The eels are an invasive species.” Gil held up his paper bag of sunflower seeds. “Want some?”

“Bet what he really wants is to go home cryin’ to mummy and daddy that the villain kids were mean to him,” Harry taunted. “Or maybe he’s thinkin’ Mal’s gonna come save him from Uma? Hmm?”

Ben didn’t respond. He knew trying to reason with Harry would go nowhere. The taller boy seemed comparatively rabid and only seemed to listen to one person. That’s who Ben wanted to negotiate with. If he could get Uma, then her crew would fall in line with whatever she decided.

He’d met an angry girl once and convinced her to change her ways. Ben held faith he could reach Uma too.

Harry, gritting his teeth, noticed his attempts at getting under Ben’s skin failed. So, he changed tactics. Grinning slyly, he leaned farther into Ben’s personal space so his gross, hot breath could be felt on the other boy’s skin.

Mockingly, he said, “Or maybe you’re crying to yourself over poor Evie splashin’ about and gettin’ her hair wet?”

Harry’s cackle seemed to stab his ear. Ben wanted his beastly strength back to break the ropes, this whole ship, and to toss everyone on it into the sea. But the magical forcefield separated even him from that magical power running in his blood.

‘Magic…’

Ben wished he’d done more to mend things with Mal. Seeing the Isle for himself, he had so much more sympathy for her now. ‘I know what it’s like to be scared and desperate now. It’s no wonder you jumped at the chance to use magic.’

She thought magic would help her survive the challenges of becoming Lady of the Court, so of course she wouldn’t consider if it was wrong or right. Ben wanted to talk to her, to understand and reassure her that she didn’t have to make it by alone anymore.

‘But I lost my temper.’

After he escaped — after he found Evie — after this nightmare was over, then he’d apologize to Mal for yelling and not listening to her.

“Harry, go make yourself useful,” Uma drawled as she sauntered into view, boots clicking heavily on the deck. She wasn’t grinning maliciously or laughing. She looked almost as done as he felt.

The pirate gave one last narrow-eyed look at Ben. “Time’s runnin’ out for you.” He shoved the hook under his chin. “Tic—tock!”

“Harry,” Uma chastised while leaning against the pole attached to the ship’s wheel.

He took the hint and left with Gil following after. Ben tried stifling his sigh of relief. He didn’t take Uma as someone to respect anyone who broke a sweat.

“Your girlfriend sure is taking her sweet time.”

Ben forced himself to not outwardly react, to school his expression. “How is she supposed to know? You left the messenger to—” His voice failed.

Uma caught on and wrinkled her nose at him. “Drown? I might not like Evie, but despite what you think, that’s not what I’m about. I saw her nosy old mom up on her balcony, watchin’ us with a phone in her hand. Bet she was callin’ someone to fish her out.”

Ben couldn’t stop head from hopefully raising up. “You wouldn’t leave Evie to drown?”

“If I actually thought she was gonna’ die, I’d make Gil fish her out. He loves fishing with his bare hands.”

Hope filled Ben not just for Evie but also for Uma. She wasn’t a real villain, just like Mal hadn’t been. They were tough and trying to survive. Ben knew what he could offer.

“Uma, I understand you haven’t been treated well. Under my reign, things are changing in Auradon, and I want to bring change to the Isle of the Lost. You’re their leader. I want to work with you to bring better lives to the people who live here, to the kids who live in the shelter. I understand your reasons to dislike Auradon, but nothing good can be built with prejudice.”

Uma let him talk, but her jaw grew stiffer as she held her tongue until he finished. “If this is how you talk now, then you’ll sing real pretty walking the plank.”

Determined, Ben leaned forward against the ropes. “No one-liners. Why won’t you work with me?”

She pushed her braids out of the way and crossed her arms. “Because you only started talking like this to save your own skin. Before I had you cornered, you were ignoring us. Guess Mal was all the VK you wanted in Auradon.”

Ben didn’t need to mull over her words to notice the through line of Mal. The question now was how to approach it. He suspected his connection to Mal hurt his ability to reach Uma. He’d picked up enough that Mal may have bullied other kids on the Isle, and perhaps Uma was one of them. Even Evie had said questionable things regarding Mal’s past, but Ben continually fought his curiosity. Her past didn’t matter anymore, so he wouldn’t ask.

Instead, he focused on Uma’s issue with his timing. “I can see how it would look like that. I’m still in the process of setting something up for the VKs, and I didn’t want to announce it until plans were more concrete. I want to make an annual VK Day, where kids are sponsored and brought over to Auradon. There’s still more to work out—”

Uma was up, striding over to him, and looking right into his eyes with emotions he tried to decipher.

Almost whispering, she said, “I don’t wanna’ work with anyone stupid enough to fall for Mal.”

Ben looked away, and Uma quickly called him out. “You don’t even want to know who she really is. Because if you knew, then you’d have to deal with dating the most selfish, manipulative bitch to have ever lived on this Isle.”

He kept his head averted, not falling for her bait. Arguing with her about Mal would get nowhere.

“Did she tell you she’s the reason Evie had to spend ten years stuck in her house? All because she didn’t invite Mal to her birthday party. There used to be rumors the rats in there ate them,” Uma recalled bitterly.

The very idea felt like a punch in the gut. He imagined Evie as sad and broken down as her childhood bedroom. He remembered what she said about the birds bringing them food and how little they could carry. Ben didn’t want to guess what it had all been like. No, he wanted so badly to ask Evie to tell him everything. If no one had ever heard of the days she really was a lost princess trapped in a tower, then he wanted to be the one to hear it.

“Yeah they’re friends now, but that’s ‘cause Mal had use for her,” Uma went on, examining his far away expression. “That’s why she got Carlos too, even after she used to break his inventions or bury them in the graveyard at school.”

Uma gave a curt, humorless laugh. “She even bullied him into throwing a big party at his mom’s place. While she took all the credit, he got his ass whooped by his mom for that.”

His mouth stayed shut. He knew Mal had a rough past.

Her brown eyes flickered over his tightly shut mouth before snorting. “Loyal like a dog.”

“What did she do to you?”

Ben turned his head halfway to look at her. She wasn’t easy to read. There was a twitch of emotion which she quickly masked.

“What she does to everyone she doesn’t have any use for anymore,” she said as nastily as she could muster. “So I won’t spoil it for you or the rest of her so-called friends. Got your answer now why I won’t work with you?”

“Because Mal hurt you,” he levelly said.

“And because I don’t trust Auradon.”

Ben miserably wondered how things had become so messed up, but the worst was part, he did know. He knew Auradon’s history of gathering up the villains. He’d seen the Isle. He knew—

‘Except I don’t.’ The destroyed wands, the torn fairy wings, and the shattered Mirror all told him there was some violence, a generational trauma inherited by the VKs, by Uma.

Ben swallowed and looked down at Uma, who stood inches away. “Whatever you’re planning, it won’t work.”

“Tch.” She sneered. “Keep thinking that.”

“I mean it,” he softly continued. “If you do kill me, nothing will stop my father from gathering all of the armies of the United Kingdoms of Auradon and destroying the Isle.”

The words tasted foul, the thought made him ill, but he knew his parents’ pain created the Isle. Their grief could destroy it.

‘Under no circumstances can I die tonight.’

“And even if you get the Fairy Godmother’s Wand,” he continued, voice carefully even, “The Royal Family has all of the magical artifacts gathered for their own use as needed. The wand is powerful, but it’s not god-like.”

Ben lost his serious edge for a moment. “And the wind up for using it takes a while. A lot can happen between bibbidi and boo.”

Maybe that last part wasn’t necessary, but joking made him feel better. He couldn’t let Uma know that the idea of her getting the Fairy Godmother’s Wand shook him to his core. If she got her hands on the wand tonight, her attack would catch Auradon unaware and vulnerable. He did not see an outcome where she did not win.

His father and tutors taught him that was always the problem with magic: it was too powerful. In the wrong hands, it could ruin every good thing they’d ever built.

‘I can’t risk Auradon.’ He thought of all the people lining the roads and throwing flowers to him after his coronation. His people believed in him and entrusted their futures to him.

‘Whatever happens, I have to protect my people — all of them.’

A loud cackle broke out above Ben’s head. He looked around, but Uma looked down ship, up the main mast. Then, her head turned sharply turned the docks. For the first time, a smile like a killer shark’s came across her face.

Ben knew, without a doubt, Mal had arrived. That meant she’d heard he was in trouble from the only person who knew. And that must mean—

‘Evie!’

He needed to see her, to see for himself that she was okay. Then he needed to apologize. Since the moment he’d failed to catch her, Ben’s stomach had turned itself sick. Even though she’d forgive him, all he wanted to do was fall on his knees before her, hold her hands, and apologize until he had no words left.

The ropes around him loosened, and not a moment later did the flat side of a sword press into his back.

Rough hands pinched his wrists together, and a voice Ben was ready to forget hissed, “Time to walk the plank!”

He’d figure this out, Ben reassured himself. He had to.

Mal’s A+ in Values and Virtues class had to be a top tier lie for her that year. She was greedy, and it fed her ambitions. She was proud, and it made her work harder to prove she was the best. She was egotistical, and it helped her walk down the rickety old docks toward Uma’s broken down ship as if Mal owned it and everyone on it.

Her lies were her best armor, hiding her rapidly beating heart.

“Stay close,” she’d told Carlos, who now hovered near her right elbow.

He’d looked at her with those dark, serious eyes and nodded once in understanding. If something went awry during the hand-off, she wanted him right there. Mal knew Jay would fight for his friends, but Carlos, in a do-or-die moment, would fight for her the same way he had at Castle Beast.

“Hang back,” she’d told Evie, who had split the smoke bombs between the four of them.

Her anger toward Evie earlier had been forgotten. She’d lied to Evie with her whole chest, all while Evie held her hands and comforted her. Mal wanted to make it up to her. Of course, Evie wouldn’t know she was doing that. That’s how Mal preferred it: repent without confession. So, Evie was in the back of the group and the most protected.

“Over there,” she’d told Jay while nodding toward a bucket they passed. He smirked as he eyed what was inside and carried it partially hidden behind him.

Mal was grateful that for all of the complications in her life, her friendship with Jay remained steady and simple. And as usual, when it came to mischief, they operated on the same wavelength.

And together, they marched toward the the end of the docks and stopped at the long gangplank.

And on the other end, Uma, proclaiming, “Finally!” as her pirates gathered around her. Mal’s nose wrinkled from the briny stench coming off of them. Off to her left, she saw Harry Hook wearing what she assumed to be his thickest battle eyeliner. Her disgust disappeared and heart dropped when she saw who Harry pushed ahead of him and onto the plank.

‘No, Ben!’

She felt shaky. The stakes were too high to lose. Ben was the best thing to ever happen to her. She couldn’t screw up.

Eyes landing on Uma, Mal put on a condescending smirk. “Finally, you’re getting the attention your mom never gave you.”

“Watch your mouth if you want your little royal boy toy back,” Uma snapped, fixing her meanest gaze on Mal, to no visible effect.

Mal replied airily. “Kill Ben, and I’ll show all the armies of Auradon the cave you live in. Hint: follow the stench of shrimp.”

She heard Jay chuckling behind her, and the hate burning in Uma’s eyes was just what she wanted. Taunting Uma was something she could do all night, but she was on a mission.

Hands planted on her hips, she went on, “Congrats on getting me to remember you existed. Now hand Ben over.”

Uma unsheathed the sword at her waist and pointed it at Mal. Jay and Carlos gripped their sword handles, but Mal did touch hers. As far as she was concerned, Uma could pose to her heart’s content.

“You know the deal: we want the wand!”

“Or else the king walks the plank!” Harry cawed, giving Ben a shake. “Sleeps with the fishes! Goes to Davy Jones’ locker! Gets a new pair o’ cement shoes! Sinks like an—!”

“Harry!” Uma stomped her foot. “We get it!”

Mal held up her right hand, and she felt Carlos place the fake wand’s handle in her palm. Her fingers closed tightly around it.

“Uma!” Her eyes gleamed watching Uma’s expression changing into wide-eyed wonderment and hunger upon looking at the wand. Mal could have laughed if Ben wasn’t one step from death.

The aqua-haired girl took one step then two down the gangplank before coming to her senses. “How do I know it’s real?”

‘Shit.’

For as much as Mal talked down to and about Uma, she knew the truth: she did it all because Uma was the greatest threat to her. When they were kids, she’d ended their friendship out of the possibility Uma could someday threaten her power. Mal would never admit it, but Uma was sharp.

“You want a little demonstration?” Mal tauntingly twisted the wand in her hands, pointed toward the pirates. Uma’s crew nearly dropped to the deck as they ducked and cowered behind the ship’s rail.

Their captain, however, kept her spine straight. “Yeah, exactly.”

Mal made a show of humming thoughtfully as she slowly turned to look at Jay and Carlos. The taller boy thoughtfully bit the inside of his cheek, and their resident genius furrowed his brow as he tried thinking of something. Then she looked past them, to Evie, who was already looking at her.

The hooded girl looked calm and determined, as if she’d come to terms with what needed done. Mal partly opened her mouth, wanting to ask Evie if she was sure. Eyes burning, Evie nodded, letting her know to go ahead.

Mal spun back around. “All right. I’ll change Evie’s appearance.”

Uma skeptically crossed her arms, mindful of her still drawn sword, and waited with narrowed eyes.

Noticing Evie had moved to the dock’s railing so she could be in plain view, Mal turned toward her and pointed the fake wand.

Then before she could start her spell, Ben cried out, “Evie!”

All eyes went on him, and when Mal saw his expression, she could have dropped the wand. He’d lit up with hope, and his eyes were big and —and—and—

“Ben!” Evie softly called back. “Are you okay?”

Mal scoffed and muttered, “Does he look all right?”

But Ben didn’t hear her and called back to Evie, “Yeah! I’m—” His smiled brightly “—I’m great!”

Mal’s whole body went stiff looking at them. ‘Why are you looking at her like that? Like—like the sun came out or something?!’ A desperate, crazy feeling took root in her chest.

Carlos’ hand suddenly squeezed her shoulder. “Mal, show Uma we’re not messing around!”

She nodded at him and, seeing attention returned to her, began her fake spell. “Magic of old, fairies of thorns, give this girl malevolent horns!”

On cue, Evie gasped and grasped her head. Her hands moved up, faking that she could feel them growing. Without hesitation, she flung her hood down and gingerly touched the clearly visible horns. Her eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

“You can undo this, right?!” Evie asked in a wavering voice while her hands kept touching her horns, as if trying to see if they’d gently pop off.

It was a level of acting Mal could admire. “Yeah, totally.” Turning back to Uma, she twirled the wand in her fingers. “Deals a deal, unless you want your hands and feet switched.”

Uma’s shifted foot to foot, clearly believe the ruse now. With a sharp upward nod, she yelled, “Harry, bring ‘im over!”

“NO!”

Mal turned her head sharply to see Ben putting one foot farther own the plank and pulling against Harry’s grip.

“Mal, don’t give her the wand!”

She hesitated, wishing there was a way to tell him to just play along, to stop getting in the way. “Ben, nothing bad is going to happen to you! Trust me!”

Harry stopped fighting Ben but didn’t release his grip. Standing up straighter, Ben declared, “You can’t give her the wand!”

Her grip on the decoy tightened until she could almost feel it warping. “That’s not up to you!”

“I’m the King and it is!” he roared. “And I’m not a pawn to be exchanged!”

All it took as Mal taking one more step down the gangplank. That’s when it all happened, when Ben broke away from Harry and crossed to the end of the plank.

Then he leapt into the sea.

Chapter Text

Her heart was in her throat as her hands roughly pulled her shoes off.

The waves thrashed far below. Ben had disappeared into the watery abyss. His hands were tied, and his boots were still on. She could see him in her mind’s eye, sinking to the kelp forests, where he’d become tangled and lost forever.

Her purse hit Jay’s nearby foot. The sword at her waist clattered aside. She hastily tied her hair back. Her jacket hit the dock, but not before she retrieved something off of it.

Nothing in her wanted to do this. She didn’t want to jump. She didn’t want to risk her life like this. But more than that, she didn’t want Ben to die.

So without hesitation, Evie threw herself into the sea.

The terrible few seconds she spent falling ended abruptly in freezing water. Her limbs locked up. One hand tightly clutched Dizzy’s emblem brooch until it dug into her palm. Her other hand tightly pinched her nose shut to keep air from escaping her lungs. When her feet started kicking, she determinedly snapped the gold scissors off the brooch.

Then she was swimming down, down and searching the darkness for any sign of him.

‘I’m the only one who can do this,’ she steeled herself.

Air bubbles escaped from her the moment she spied slithering, wiggling silhouettes disturbing the dark water. She turned her head and saw more, too many to count. They were absolutely surrounded in eel-infested waters.

Louder in her heart, forcing out the fear threatening to overcome her, she silently cried, ‘I have to save Ben!’

Nerves set, Evie swam toward where she swore Ben disappeared. Learning to swim in Auradon Prep’s swimming pool didn’t compare to this. She knew she’d tire soon.

The dark silhouette of Uma’s broken ship and where its hull leaned against jagged rocks loomed nearby. If she wasn’t careful, she and Ben could get thrown onto them and killed. And below, the black kelp forests promised to swallow them whole.

Then she saw him, first a strange, twisting figure then a flash of pale skin. Evie squinted and made wide-armed strokes to him. The closer she came, the more clearly she could see that Ben wasn’t sinking. He’d freed his feet from his boots, and she could see him fighting the knotted rope on his wrists.

Her hand touched his. Ben’s eyes fearfully met hers before lighting with hope.

‘I’m here,’ she wanted to tell him. Instead, she showed him by stabbing one end of the scissors directly into the knot, twisting, sawing, and finally cutting through. The rope untangled under her hands before floating away.

The first thing Ben did wasn’t swim for the surface but touch her side and point behind her in warning. Evie turned her head and saw it, the grey scales, the beady eyes, and the mouth that pulled far back at each corner. The creature flashed a row of pointed teeth that would cut to her bones.

Ben and Evie frantically swam to the surface. The air grew thin in their lungs. The far away light couldn’t greet them fast enough. With heaving breaths, they emerged into the chaotic surface. Waves churned around them, splashing their faces as they tried catching their breath. And above, she heard Uma screaming, miserable and furious.

Then, inhuman shrieking broke out. If only she could tightly press her palms over her ears. The piercing sound could make ears bleed. Then a wave hit them, knocking the air out of her while briefly blocking out the noise.

Evie was overwhelmed. She could barely breathe. It was madness.

“EVIE!” Mal cried out above them.

Then all her vision became was a mouth as long as her arm with rows of narrow, pointed teeth springing out of the water by her head. A thick tongue lashed hungrily for her face.

She propelled herself backward just as Ben dove forward. His fist connected with the top of the beast’s nose, snapping his mouth shut.

There was frantic shouting from Carlos and Jay, then Mal yelled, “LOOK OUT!”

Ben’s attention snapped up before he wrapped an arm around Evie’s middle and desperately began propelling them away from the gangplank’s shadow. “We gotta’ go!”

Trusting him, Evie kicked and swam for mere seconds before a bang and a tremendous splash made her fear the dock was collapsing. A great splash swallowed them. They were swept out until Ben grabbed hold of a dock support.

Getting their heads back above choppy waters, Evie realized the Shrieking Eels had silenced, possibly scared off. While Ben fought to keep them both anchored to the thick wooden beam, Evie forced herself to keep breathing, to keep thinking. There had to be a way out.

Chin tilted just out of the water, Evie searched around the inky black water under the docks. Just a ways over, a ladder descended into the water.

“Ben!” she gasped. “Look!”

He followed her gaze to their escape route. Together, they swam for it and grasped either side. She could see it led up to a trap door on the docks.

With their escape right there, Ben’s wide, worried blue eyes looked only at her. “You first.”

Nodding, she grasped the rails and tried pulling herself up. Her arms shook violently from the effort. Evie sank back into the water. She kicked her feet, not willing to lose her strength now.

“Oh!”

Ben’s arm had went under her thighs and pushed her up. She lifted one foot high enough to catch the lowest rung and hauled herself up. Slowly, with labored breaths, Evie ascended the rungs.

‘It’s almost over,’ she wanted to assure Ben. She needed this to be over.

Reaching the trap door, she pushed on it with one hand, then both hands, but it hardly creaked. When she started to wobble backward, she instinctively grabbed the top rung just as Ben’s hand caught her lower back. He climbed higher up, and she flattened herself to make room for him. His chest pressed against her back as he one-handedly pushed the nearly sealed trap door open.

At last, Evie crawled through the door, onto the deck, and into vibrantly colored air as smoke bombs detonated in bursts of fuchsia, yellow, and red.

She turned around and found he had closely followed her. His bare foot kicked the trap door shut. Then from their awkward positions on the dock, they were embracing each other. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he buried his face in her shoulder. They were cold and soaked to their bones, but the longer they held tight, the more their shivers subsided.

It felt like they were silently exclaiming, ‘You’re all right!’ and ‘We made it! It’s over!’

Although it wasn’t technically over, because they were reunited, it may as well have been.

She’d failed. No. Mal refused to lose to Uma. She’d never lose. One purple boot firmly lodged itself on the dock’s lower railing. Purple gloves gripped the rotting wood of the top rail, and Mal readied herself to fight whatever tried getting between her and Ben.

Just as her other boot left the ground, an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back. She twisted, ready to dig her elbow into the face of whoever stopped her. Then she recognized the sleeve.

Carlos dragged a compliant Mal away from the railing moments before Evie dropped down, into the sea.

“EVIE!” Mal didn’t have to free herself from Carlos. Everyone, including Uma and her crew, rushed to the rails to see Evie disappear beneath the waves after Ben.

Panic rushed through Mal. No. No! This was all wrong!

‘We should’ve just stolen the actual damn wand!’ Then she could do something. Then she wouldn’t be so damn helpless! ‘I am not losing any of my friends tonight!’

Uma marched down the gangplank toward her. Carlos, sword drawn, quickly put himself between the two girls, but the pirate captain wasn’t looking for a fight.

“What are you waiting for?!” Uma snapped at her. “Use the wand and get them out!”

It clicked in Mal’s head. Uma didn’t have the guts to throw Ben to the Shrieking Eels. She’d done it all for show, talking bigger than she could manage to give.

She laughed. “Wow! Wow.” Mal shook her head pitifully at the other girl. “Still all bark and no bite.”

There was no more use for the fake wand ruse. Uma would figure it out in the next few seconds when Mal couldn’t use it to save Ben and Evie. So, Mal made the most of it.

Hand on Carlos’s shoulder, she held up the wand for all to admire. “Who’s the baddest of them all?” She grinned, and her voice dropped dangerously. “You already know.”

She grasped both ends of the replica and watched as Uma’s whole face dropped. Catching her eye, Carlos smirked, making her feel invincible.

“What’s my name?”

The wand snapped.

Then she threw it at Uma’s face.

The sea witch raged, for all the years of fury and pain at Mal and Auradon’s hands. “GET HER!”

Jay, both hands on the metal bucket, ran past his friends and emptied its contents in one perfect splash. Harry leapt forward, trying to shield Uma, and both were enveloped by foul shrimp water. The aqua-haired girl saw the tiny crustaceans clutching at her coat and screamed and screamed. Harry, hat knocked off, rushed to brush the shrimp off of her clothes and out of her braids.

Mal looked back down to the sea, and her heart leapt at the sight of their heads above water. They were alive. Then she realized that Uma had back-up shriekers. The eels, with their elongated bodies, whipped in the waves around her friends. A horrible, pointed snout parted the water like a torpedo headed straight for one of them.

“EVIE!”

Heart racing in her chest, Mal thought fast and looked at the boys. “Drop the gangplank.” In one move, they could scare off the Shrieking Eels and cut off the pirates.

Jay and Carlos shared a look, already knowing what to do. The shorter boy rushed forward, seized the gangplank railing on either side, and jump-kicked Harry into Uma. They stumbled backward, tumbling onto the Lost Revenge’s deck in a cacophony of salty curses. Carlos ran back to his friends as Jay covered him by tossing the metal bucket at the pirates who tried to follow, and Mal threw the first smoke bomb.

In a pop of fuchsia, the pirates recoiled as the gangplank shook. Jay threw another, and Carlos tossed the third. Wood splintered off the Lost Revenge with each explosion of color. The air smelled peppery, making Mal's nose twitch.

“Carlos, hurry up!” Jay yelled striking his sword against the knots tying one end of the gangplank to the dock.

“I know!” Carlos gave up hacking the weathered rope with his sword, flipped open his straightedge razor, and sliced through.

Mal checked out Ben and Evie below, alive as one giant eel scurried away from the king. “LOOK OUT!”

Then Carlos and Jay, with grunting from the effort, lifted the gangplank up and tossed it into the sea.

“DON’T LET THEM ESCAPE!” Uma bellowed from her ship. “THROW THEM ALL TO THE EELS!”

The three of them noticed the pirates climbing the masts, where ropes hung for them to swing from. Mal didn’t mind being outnumbered, not when she had Carlos and Jay beside her. Jay aimed with one arm then thrusted his other forward, deftly hitting the farthest mast. Using a slingshot he’d brought, Carlos hit the other mast, the explosive pop and blinding smoke sending the pirates falling back to the deck.

Mal was back to looking for Ben and Evie in the water, but they’d disappeared. For a terrible moment, she feared they’d hit them, killing them both.

‘What now?’ she asked herself as Jay and Carlos continued unloading their small arsenal of smoke bombs. The air filled with a suffocating, burnt paper smell.

Before she could formulate a means to save them, part of the dock popped open, and up came a pale, messy blue figure, barely able to hold herself upright. Right behind her followed another blue figure, Ben.

The weight of worry disappeared from her chest only to be replaced by something uglier a moment later. They were hugging. They were holding each other like they were all that mattered. She watched him press his face into Evie’s shoulder and couldn’t remember him ever doing that to her.

A horrible jealousy grew in her chest. She started toward them, ready to scream, to lose her fucking mind, when Carlos grabbed her arm.

“What, Carlos?!” Mal snapped.

His eyes briefly flashed with surprise before focusing back on the mission at hand. “We need to go!” He looked over his shoulder. “Jay! Help Ben and Evie!”

Then, Carlos tossed Evie’s jacket over his shoulder and shoved her forgotten purse at Mal to carry. Jay nearly slid across the grimy dock to get his hands under Ben and Evie’s armpits to simultaneously lift them both. Evie took one step before stumbling down to her knees.

“Woah woah!” Jay grabbed her arm so she didn’t face plant.

Ben swooped her up and into his arms bridal style. “Let’s go!” He had a calm, tired certainty as if they were going into the last quarter of a game of tourney.

Mal angrily eyed the sight of her boyfriend carrying her best friend. When Carlos grabbed her arm, she snapped, “Let go!”

He released her as if she’d struck him. “Okay.”

There was a moment where they looked at each other, and neither seemed certain of where they stood with each other. Then Jay ran between them.

“Let’s goooo!”

Ben and Evie followed after, with Evie tucking her feet in to not accidentally kick Mal. The two remaining of the Core four looked at the rising, multi-colored mountain of smoke which had swallowed Uma’s ship. There as shouting, and Gil could be barely seen hoisting himself up into the faintly visible crow’s nest.

Mal grabbed Carlos’ hand and ran after the others. Up the stairs, they zig-zagged up the levels of the docks until reaching the giant drainage pipe they’d used as a short-cut. Jay, one foot inside the pipe, helped Ben and Evie up into it before leading the way. She and Carlos paused at the mouth to turn and see the sea winds were sweeping away the colored smoke.

“Mal.” Carlos grabbed Evie’s purse and held it up between them, revealing the homemade smoke bombs just begging to blow.

She looked down at the ship, where Uma glowered up at her. Part of her pitied Uma, not just for living in the past but letting the worst parts of it define her.

‘Maybe I would’ve ended up like that — but better, obviously — if I’d never met Ben.’

But Uma had her chance, just like Mal, and they both made their choices. With one last taunting smirk down at the other girl, she and Carlos emptied every last smoke bomb at once on the docks. In a barrage of crackling explosions and azure smoke, Uma’s turf disappeared from sight and, in a series of cracking, crashing, and splashing, into the sea. Mal held Carlos’ hand for balance as she, giggling, kicked away the last bit of dock hanging on by the drainage pipe.

Then he was pulling her, and they ran with feet splashing in the shallow water. Mal heard herself cackling, the sound bouncing off the walls. Damn she loved this. She felt so alive. She felt brilliant and so, so bad.

Mal stopped and tugged his arm, making Carlos turn around to face her in the dark tunnel. The moment seemed so perfect. He didn’t say anything, just stood there. She wondered if he was nervous or waiting to see what she’d do. Mal held up their joined hands, and she twisted hers so their fingers intertwined. Kissing right now, after pulling off a villainously legendary rescue mission, felt perfect. She wondered if he was staring at her lips the way she currently stared at his.

“We need to go.”

His hand untangled from hers, and he sprinted away. Mal ran after him and soon emerged into an alleyway leading directly into the junk plaza. The tarp covering the limousine fluttered, forgotten to the ground, barely a second before Jay opened the passenger door. Ben, Evie still in his arms, nearly dove inside. A series of surprised yelps followed, but Mal didn’t pay it any mind.

Jay started toward the driver’s door then slowed when he noticed Carlos wasn’t going for the shot gun seat. “Hey man, you’re up front.”

He shook his head. “Not this time.” Looking to Mal, he held the back passenger door open for her.

She ran and threw herself into the backseat with Carlos right behind her. The car shook one final time as Jay slammed his door shut. The backseat passengers had a short reprieve to catch their breaths as Jay buckled up and woke up the engine. Their only warning was Jay’s loud, joyous whooping before the car peeled out. They all fell back and against each other, with something big and heavy hitting Mal and Carlos’ ankles.

With the limousine hurtling down the magic bridge, Mal came back to her senses and realized Carlos had protectively wrapped his arms around her.

Then, she took one look at Evie and Ben, tangled together in a heap on the floor, and lost it. “What the hell?! What are you doing?! Get off each other!”

“They didn’t mean to end up like that!” Carlos defended. “Don’t take this out on them!”

Mal angrily crossed her arms and went to twist herself away from Carlos when her feet kicked something that gave a muffled, “Oomph!”

That’s when everyone realized they’d put their feet on a bound and gagged Chad.

Ben reached for the fabric scrap tied around Chad’s mouth, and Carlos testily asked, “Do you want him to talk the whole drive?!”

But it was too late. The gag fell away and Chad was quick to wiggling his way toward his king. “Ben! They kidnapped me! They took me— wait, where did they take me?”

Well-accustomed to his antics, Ben said, “Chad, it’s okay. We were on the Isle—”

The prince gave a short, frightened scream. “The Isle?! Great! Now I’m gonna’ get mugged!”

From the front, Jay held up a billfold. “Don’t worry, man, you already got mugged in Auradon.”

Evie sat up on her elbows, shoulder to shoulder with Ben. “Jay, give it back,” she scolded.

“I will,” he said with laughter in his voice. “I only found it because I was actually stealing his phone so he wouldn’t make any calls.”

Mal looked at Carlos, who’d retreated to his corner of the far backseat with arms crossed. He’d put what little space he could between the two of them. “Why did you to bring Chad?”

“He knows too much,” Carlos said, his quiet tone making Mal wonder if the late night adventure was catching up to him or what. “We brought him so you could erase his memory of tonight.”

Ben full sat upright on the limousine’s floor. “More magic? Mal—” he shook his head disbelievingly “—when does this end?”

Her mouth fell open then closed. “I—” Mal didn’t know what to say, because the truth was she never wanted the magic to end. Opening her spellbook and wielding her magic made her feel like master of her own fate. These were the only things she had connecting her to her fae heritage.

Carlos sat forward on the seat. “Chad goes back to Auradon, blabs about everything, and then what?”

Mal knew that pissy tone, and her heart warmed toward him. Carlos was always on her side.

He didn’t wait for anyone to answer him before continuing, “At best, cotillion gets postponed until the bruising on your face goes away, because make-up can’t fix that.”

Ben tentatively touched his face, fingers gingerly rubbing the sore spots he’d not realized were bruises.

Evie’s fingers hovered near his as she assured him, “It’s not that bad.”

Carlos wasn’t done. “And obviously your parents are going to demand to know what happened, and I’m making an informed guess that the reason is VKs, because that’s what the pirates are. Then what, Ben?” he asked more aggressively. “Then people aren’t so sure you should be marrying a VK, even if she’s ‘one of the good ones.’”

Ben held up a hand to stop him. “Mal and I aren’t getting married. We're not engaged.”

Mal noticed Carlos’ shoulders restlessly twitch with pent-up energy, reminding her of his duel with Ben. She schooled herself to not visibly enjoy it so much.

She especially had to force a neutral expression when Carlos exploded. “That’s the whole point of cotillion! So she can have a title to be good enough to marry you! No cotillion, no title, and this is all assuming your people—”

“My people?”

“—don’t skip all of this and exile all of us!”

Ben squared himself, his energy finally trying to match Carlos’. “I would never allow that!”

Carlos gave a loud, disbelieving laugh. “You think you’re the reason I didn’t get deported?!”

A thick silence fell on them. Mal barely dared to move so much as her chin as she observed Ben’s wide-eyed shock at having been so verbally slapped. Carlos had gotten him, and she wondered if Carlos even knew how well. She’d seen it herself, how little power Ben held in his own Royal Council. He couldn’t even convince them to change a museum exhibit. The day of the duel, King Beast had condescended to and ignored his own son until Evie reminded everyone who the true king was and gave Ben the support he needed to assert himself.

Mal glanced down at Evie, who looked away from everyone. She wondered what she was thinking.

The silence softly broke with the mechanical whirring of Jay rolling up the divider. No one spoke until the car careened up onto dry ground with an abrupt bump. The car eased up onto an incline, and the movement shook at least one person out of it.

Chad, who’d managed to prop himself up against the L-shaped bench seat, snottily said, “Actually, Ben is the reason you’re even here. So—” he shrugged sarcastically, unable to do more with his hands tied behind his back “—some gratitude would be nice.”

‘I don’t give a fuck about nice,’ Mal wanted to snap, because she didn’t know where Chad got the nerve to say that to Carlos.

She watched his throat bob as he swallowed before pulling a silver object from his jacket pocket and flipping open the razor. Chad yelped, but Carlos made no motion to do anything else with it. He just turned those intense brown eyes on her.

His voice softened. “Just because Ben doesn’t like it doesn’t mean it’s the wrong thing to do.”

Oh. Oh, right.

"Ah-ah!" Chad nervously stuttered. "I'll accept bribes!"

She didn’t look away from Carlos as she muttered, “Prick the finger, prick it deep. Send my enemy off to sleep.”

Looking from the corner of her eye, she wiggled her fingers at Chad, hitting him with a spray of sparks. He sneezed, making everyone recoil. Blinking and sniffling, he looked around him in relative confusion before focusing on the straightedge razor.

“Ooh, shiny.” His finger experimentally tapped it and came back with a single drop of blood. Promptly, his eyes shut, and he fell awkwardly back against the wheel well in complete sleep.

While Carlos snapped the razor shut, Mal reached into her jacket’s hidden inside pocket and pulled out a shrunken version of her spellbook. Tapping it with her index finger, aglow with green magic, the book popped back to its actual size. Flipping though its pages to find the perfect spell never failed to excite her.

Then she saw Ben, downcast and watching her as if she was doing this to betray him.

“One more spell,” Mal guiltily muttered to him. Then she found the one. “Sand falls in the hourglass. Memories of today will not last.”

Her magic flashed and coated Chad’s form in a bright, green glow that briefly lit up the car before fading away. She snapped shut the spellbook and rested it in her lap. Her fingers ran over its bent corners and worn spine. She traced the dulled, gold dragon embossing on the cover. A pit opened in her chest when she realized she was trying to memorize it.

Ben and Evie eased themselves up into proper seats, and the remainder of the drive passed without anyone looking at each other. No, that wasn’t entirely right. Mal noticed that short moment when Carlos looked at her with an expression she couldn’t read in that dark car.

Mal stared out the tinted window at the silhouettes they flew past. She knew if Ben had looked at Evie any differently, it was because his actual girlfriend was doing a shit job. It was just like she’d told Carlos, that Ben was the best thing to ever happen to her. If not for him, she’d be like Uma, miserable and angry. This was her chance to know love, and she needed to stop sabotaging it.

Mal knew what she had to do.

The limousine eased to a stop, and the car shook slightly as Jay got out. Carlos opened the door on his side and climbed out, followed by Mal. Ben and Evie had to carefully step over Chad.

The night waned with the barest lightening of the early morning sky. Soon enough, the tree line would be outlined in dreamy orange. The servants and cooks at Castle Beast would be waking up, and the night guard would change over to the day guard. Ben needed to leave.

Mal saw Jay hand the keys over to Ben, and she forced herself approach him to hand over something far more precious.

“Here,” she weakly managed to say.

Her spellbook went into Ben’s hands.

“Put it in the museum.”

“Mal.” Carlos’ indignant voice sounded far away to her. She didn’t want to look at him, the only person who didn’t want her to change.

Ben raised his eyes from the book to her, and his expression slowly lit up with hope. “You mean it.”

“I do.” She bit her bottom lip and wetted it before adding, “And I’m so sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I nearly ruined everything. I’m sorry that I—”

‘—cheated on you—’

“—was a horrible girlfriend.” Her voice went quieter, losing its strength. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

Maybe erasing Chad’s memory wasn’t her last spell that day. The effect of her apology melted Ben just as quickly. He frowned regretfully.

“I’m sorry I lost my temper at you and didn’t listen.” He shook his head at the memory. “I want you to know you can come to me about anything.”

She looked away uncomfortably. “But it’s just that you already have to deal with everyone else’s problems now that you’re king—”

Tucking the spellbook under his arm, Ben reached out and took her hands. “I want to help you with your problems. It’s not a burden when you love someone.”

She had no words to that, just a weak, grateful smile. That was enough for Ben to put the spellbook back in one hand, freeing his arms to wrap her in a warm hug. She pressed her face into his damp shoulder and told herself everything would go back to normal now. She could be an Auradon girl and have a better life with her friends. She took in a deep breath, smelling the sea salt stuck to him, and breathed out. Everything would be okay.

Ben let go first and apologetically explained, “I need to head back to the castle. I’ll make up an excuse for the bruises. Wanna’ have dinner later?”

“Yeah, definitely,” she readily said with a smile, though it twitched at the corners.

Jay grunted, and everyone looked over to see him dragging Chad by the feet halfway out of the limousine. “Carlos, gimme’ a hand.”

Unthinkingly, Mal looked at Carlos.

For his thirteenth birthday, she’d convinced their classmates to bark at him all day. She’d once stepped on his stack of books in Dragon Hall's library to reach a high shelf for something she didn’t need, leaving her footprint on his textbook. When he wore a new jacket to school, she’d told him the bloody skunk look suited him and watched gleefully as he looked to the ground in humiliation.

And yet, from the look on his face, this was the worse thing yet.

Mal took long, quick strides over to him, rushing to tell him, “Carlos, I’m sorry. For everything.”

He stared at her like they were worse than strangers.

“Don’t talk to me.”

Carlos walked away from her, to help Jay. Mal stood there, unable to speak without feeling like she was malfunctioning. The world had turned on its side, and she couldn’t move. She vaguely saw Carlos and Jay go past, up the stairs to the dorms while hauling a clueless Chad between them. She didn’t realize she’d lost her hearing until the second time Evie called her name.

“Mal?” Evie carefully touched her shoulder to not startle her.

That’s right. Evie had told her Carlos was her friend and would forgive her. But if he didn’t forgive her, then what did that make them? That shaky, unstable feeling grew in her ribcage again, the one that led to her panicking and losing control. Except now, there was no Carlos to calm her down. She didn’t. She—she—

“Evie!” Ben was handing Evie her jacket and purse, having retrieved them from the car. “You need to get inside before anyone sees you.”

“I’ve got Mal. Go.”

Mal felt Ben gently cupping the back of her head, pressing a kiss to her hairline before he trotted over to the car, engine still rumbling. He and Evie shared one final look.

And like that, everyone parted ways.

Chapter Text

“One.”

“Two.”

Carlos and Jay swung Chad’s limp form up onto his bed, where he landed, bounced, and fell on the other side.

“Ooh!” They cringed upon impact, but that was as far as their sympathy went.

Jay walked around to the bed’s other side. Chad’s foot had caught the covers, dragging them halfway off the bed with him.

“Perfect,” Jay declared, satisfied. “He’ll wake up and think he’s just sore from falling off his bed.” Looking at the bedding, he took the chance to mess up the sheets and turn the pillows askew.

Carlos looked around Chad’s room, a single due to either prince privileges or lack of willing roommates. A large, ornately framed photo on the nightstand caught his eye. Picking it up, he realized it was a royal family photo of Cinderella, King Charming, Chad, and his little sister.

‘What in the Punnett square?’

Holding it up for Jay to notice, Carlos said, “Do you think Chad knows he’s adopted?”

Jay squinted at the happy family photo and shook his head. “Nah.”

Carlos set the photo back down, carefully angling it toward the pillows just like Chad had set it. Weirdly enough, it made him think about his own family.

Unlike himself, his mother’s alabaster complexion lacked a single freckle. After so long of being told he was just tanned, Carlos grew old enough to realize that couldn’t be true on such a perpetually overcast Isle. He’d been too nervous to ask her outright for years who his father was. Depending on her mood, she could either have no patience for questions or she’d fill his ears with whatever she wanted to say, true or not.

Then there was one day when he was fourteen, tentatively putting pieces together about his identity, when he caught his mother in a sedated mood. She reclined on a wine-colored chaise lounge with a cigarette in its long holder in one hand. Nearby, a Glencairn glass sat empty save for the half-melted ice cube.

That’s when he finally ventured to ask who his father was.

She’d blinked at the ceiling. “…It was Clayton.”

“Mom, Clayton’s White…”

Like a disturbed dragon, she’d risen up, shouting, “Well if you’re so smart, why don’t you tell me since you seem to have it figured out!”

Carlos had nervously retreated back to the kitchen to finish doing dishes. “Sorry, Mom…”

“You’re a De Vil! I made you and that should be more than enough!”

Carlos could still feel the shaky, “Sorry!” in his throat.

“Hey…” Jay carefully interrupted his thoughts. “You doin’ all right?”

“No.” He was thinking about his messed up family as a distraction. Carlos needed no more proof to know he wasn’t fine at all.

Jay nodded, looking down thoughtfully, before venturing, “Wanna’ go for a run? Or get in some R.O.A.R. practice?” When he didn’t get an enthused response, he continued, “Or we could, I dunno, go to a fabric store? Get a family-sized bag of chocolate? Or we could—” he shrugged, cringing “—talk about it?”

Carlos wanted to smile at the attempt. “Thanks Jay, but I kinda just want to sleep through this.”

“Sleep now, giant new bag of chocolate for you later. Oh! Speaking of—” Jay pulled Chad’s cell phone from his pocket and dropped it on the bed. Then he retrieved Chad’s wallet and took a few bills before setting it on the nearby writing desk, covered in school textbooks.

“I thought you weren’t stealing anymore,” Carlos said, not caring either way in that moment.

“This—” He waved the bills before pocketing them “—is payment for using your 3D printer and annoying the hell out of you.”

“Oh that won’t even begin to cover for that.”

Jay grinned. “So he’ll pay in installments.”

A reluctant smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Thanks, Jay.” Maybe it was his best friend having his back, but whatever it was, Carlos found himself saying, “You know, she actually made me think she’d choose me over Ben.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he continued, “After we rescued Ben, when we hung back from you guys, there was a real moment she looked at me and I thought she was going to kiss me.”

To have that much hope, that she might choose him, scared him.

Carlos’ throat felt tight with emotion. “Now I feel like an idiot. Like I could ever compare to a guy like Ben.”

Jay, who’d listened with crossed arms and furrowed brow, held up a hand to interject, “I’m gonna have to stop you there, because Ben was the man before he became king.”

It was like Chad’s fancy Agrabah-style rug had been pulled out from under Carlos. “What?”

“Yeah, when he was just a prince, he got to do cool stuff. Now he’s king, can’t do Tourney, can’t do R.O.A.R., and he has to be in meetings. Ben’s cool, but his life is boring now. No wonder Mal was eyeing you up.”

Now Carlos didn’t know where he was. “What?”

“You’re probably second best on the R.O.A.R. team now that word’s out about you beating Ben. You got a cool style, and you’re probably gonna’ have bank soon as you get access to your mom’s accounts.”

Carlos knew his mother’s assets had been frozen when she was thrown on the Isle, and she’d mentioned having a loyal butler who’d worked for her father and would oversee everything until her return. He’d never pursued it, not wanting to delve into his mother’s past.

Jay went on, “And dates with you would be way lower stakes. Imagine if she farted on a date with Ben and the cameras were on? Her breaking wind would be breaking news for a week.”

Carlos flinched on Mal’s behalf. “Thanks, Jay.”

The taller boy walked around the bed and clapped Carlos on the back. “What I’m here for.” With a great stretch that flexed his biceps, Jay added, “I’m heading to bed. Catch me for dinner.”

They headed toward the door, with Carlos muttering, “Hard same.”

Between washing her hair twice and exfoliating a layer of skin off, Evie had time to ruminate on the feeling she’d been lied to.

“Why would Carlos say that to you?”

“I don’t want to talk.”

Mal had sounded so hollow before closing her door and snapping the lock shut. By the time Evie finished drying off from her shower, she was left with more questions. What was Mal apologizing to Carlos for? Why did he look betrayed? And why did he object when she handed over her spellbook? The questions went on and on. Evie wondered if this connected back to the violet dress somehow or if that was separate.

‘Maybe if Mal won’t talk to me, Carlos will.’ Evie believed Mal may have lied to her through omission of whatever was going on between her and Carlos. She didn’t know if her theory of Carlos having romantic feelings toward Mal was back on the table or not.

By the time Evie collapsed into her bed with clean, dry hair and moisturized skin, her head spun with mysteries. The museum, her horns, her friends — they were all giving her a headache. She considered her pain pills on her vanity, but those shouldn’t be taken on an empty stomach.

With a groan, Evie turned over, facing away from her covered window where the morning sun tried permeating the curtains.

Knock-knock-knock.

She sighed.

Grabbing her phone, she checked the time. It was past 10:00 AM, and she had four missed texts.

Knock-knock-knock.

Evie groggily climbed out of bed and already knew who’d be there. Of course, because they always spent Saturdays together, after he finished marching band practice. Her hand landed on the doorknob, and she nearly opened it before remembering her horns were exposed.

“One second,” she said while searching around her room. Evie grabbed her bath robe and wrapped it back around herself. Then, she tucked her hair and horns up into her still damp hair towel, as if she’d just returned from a shower.

Opening the door revealed a relieved yet apprehensive Doug. “Hey! Good morning! Um, you…showered? But you always shower in the evening.”

“I was really tired last night,” Evie said, smiling widely to hide her nerves.

Doug turned his head and seemed to be choosing his words. “Okay. Uh, I was looking for you at breakfast.”

Evie pressed her tongue to the top of her mouth to keep herself from asking why she had to account for every move she made. On the other hand, she knew having to keep him in the dark was making her irritable. She didn’t like lying to him, and she hated that the more he pushed, the more she had to keep lying.

“I have a headache,” she weakly said.

Doug deflated and looked at her imploringly. “Do you really? Or do you just…not want me around?”

Evie’s heart crumbled. How could she possibly tell him no, she didn’t? Doug, who’d done nothing wrong, didn’t deserve this.

‘Show him the horns,’ she told herself. ‘Be brave and just tell him the truth.’

But how could she tell him she’d confided in Ben over him? That she’d been running around in secret with Ben on midnight adventures? She knew how it looked, and she didn’t blame Mal for her jealous outbursts. She wanted to tell Mal and Doug how sorry she was.

And yet, Evie didn’t know if she could deny what it looked like. Her feelings toward Ben felt so warm, happy, and confused. While she took care of herself that morning, she was also wishing she could ice his bruises and cover them up with make-up (because despite Carlos’ statement, she believed her make-up bag could do the trick).

“Is—” Doug took a deep breath, as if summoning courage “—is there someone else? Is it Sneezy’s son? Because I’ll tell you right now, he got busted last year for—”

“Doug, no,” Evie cut in, comfortingly touching his shoulder. “I’m tired, I’m stressed, and I just want my life to go back to normal.”

His hand went over hers so his thumb could stroke the back of her hand. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Evie first thought asking him for anything, after everything she’d done without telling him, would be too selfish. ‘But this is him trying to be closer to me. I don’t want to keep denying him that.’

“Would you please grab something to eat? So I can take my headache pills?”

He took her hand in both of his and earnestly said, “I’ll get that coconut milk yogurt bowl you like, with the blueberries. Anything else? Oh, how about that one pressed juice with the beets and orange and turmeric and — uh—that other stuff?”

Evie didn’t know what the Auradon Prep kitchen would still have anything left for breakfast, but she didn’t deny her usual breakfast sounded fantastic after the night she had. She nodded, and Doug was obediently off. Then Evie quietly closed her door, bent her head, and leaned it against the hardwood.

She soaked in the silence of her bedroom and meditated on a fact she’d put off accepting.

She wanted to break-up with Doug.

Evie tried remembering how it’d felt at the start of their relationship, how nice it felt to be appreciated for something other than her looks. But, that wasn’t true. When they first met, Doug was hung up on her beauty so badly that the forgot to speak in full sentences. But, he later believed in her intelligence. That was nice, but now, Evie had grown out of needing that validation. She believed in herself, and her friends did too. Evie didn’t need Doug that way anymore.

Her fingertips traced the grain in the wooden door to ground herself, so she wouldn’t spiral as she confessed to herself how shallow it all seemed now. The relationship, looking back, had been so much of Doug giving and herself taking. He planned and paid for the dates. He managed the books for her boutique and figured out how long until she earned enough to pay for her own home. Evie wondered if he’d secretly imagined it being their home.

She lifted her head from the door and went over to her bed, gracefully falling sideways onto the crumpled bedding. No doubt, Evie gave Doug a much needed ego boost with her praise, attention, and company. But now, she wondered if she’d been the center of their relationship.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she was already telling the Doug in her mind.

Evie had never hurt anyone, not in a way that struck them in their heart. Now, there was no other way. If she stayed with Doug, they’d both remain in this terrible limbo where she felt guilty and he was left insecure. And if they broke up, then they’d get the pain over with and have a chance at happiness.

‘It’d be terrible to break-up with him right before cotillion,’ Evie decided. ‘I’ll do it after. Besides, I don’t want to be alone that night.’

The night she’ll watch Mal become Lady of the Court and Ben’s future fiancee.

Evie tiredly pushed herself up, pulled off the bath robe and hair towel, then carried herself over to her wardrobe. Doug would return soon, meaning no sleep for her.

Damn, this headache sucked.

Mal didn’t bother checking the clock when she woke up. Her head hurt, her neck hurt, and her jaw hurt, as if she’d clenched her teeth while sleeping. Her normally cozy bed seemed to not want her in it with the way her sheets coiled around her legs and the mattress springs pressed uncomfortably into her ribs. Her pillows may has well have been rocks.

Kicking off the bedding, she sat up and flipped herself, feet shoving under the pillows and her upper half landing on the bunched up blanket. The change marginally helped.

‘Everything is fixed,’ she kept telling herself. She’d saved Ben and regained his trust. Everything was back on track in her life.

‘Carlos will get over it.’

Her arms tightly hugged herself. The AC was too high, she thought.

Mal huffed a sigh. ‘It’s just going to suck until he does.’

But they’d kissed each other, and they’d nearly done it again after the fight. So what if Carlos didn’t agree with her that Ben was the best thing to ever happen to her?  They’d just gotten through a rough patch. Her life with Ben was going to play out better than Carlos said it would. She’d become High Queen of the United Kingdoms of Auradon and be a better version of herself. She wouldn’t need magic to solve her problems the easy way anymore. She’d do things the good, hard way.

The very thought gave her the sense of fight or flight that she needed to pop up out of bed. Sleep was not to be hers, so might as well start her day at — she grabbed the alarm clock — noon.

Now she had a whole afternoon to kill before seeing Ben for dinner. Mal told herself her crappy malaise was just because she slept horribly and had nothing to do with how her life was perfect again. In fact, it was even better, because she’d made the big stride of giving up magic. She’d proved she could grow as a person.

She’d also proved she could still make Uma eat rotten shrimp, but that was unrelated.

With a curse and a start, Mal threw off the cover to her mother’s terrarium. “I know, I forgot breakfast!” From her nightstand drawer, she grabbed the container of reptile food and dumped a portion into the clay feeding bowl. “I’ll grab a banana for you later.”

She quickly withdrew her hand when Maleficent went to scratch her. Mal closed the tank but not without a quick whiff and declaration that, “Your tank stinks. Now I’m gonna have to clean it.”

Mal hated taking care of her mother. She wondered if this is how Maleficent felt toward her when she was a baby. She wondered if they were always such a burden to each other. No wonder there was so little love between them. For a brief time, the Museum of Cultural History held her mother in captivity until Mal couldn’t bear it and earned enough trust to keep her instead.

Mal frowned at the sight of her mother eating pet store food. With a shake of her head, she decided to keep moving. She just had to keep moving to escape this sinking feeling of sadness. Time flew by in showering, hair drying, make-up, and homework. Without her magic, she’d need to dedicate so much more time for everything.

By three, she was sitting in the library, yawning so loudly that it echoed. Reading at a mortal’s pace again was so boring. She didn’t even enjoy the writing assignment she had for her favorite class, History of Fairies.

“Ever notice how all of these stories go back to humans?’” she’d asked her friends last week when their foursome had been studying at the same table she occupied now.

“Humans are a part of fairy history too,” Evie had replied.

“Yeah, but aren’t fairies older than humans? There should be loads of our history that shouldn’t involve humans at all.”

Carlos had muttered, “Good luck finding anything like that in a post-magic society.”

Evie had pursed her lips, and Jay had looked between them all. The conversation on that subject died there. But now, Mal couldn’t unsee how the running theme of the entire class focused on the good and bad fairies did to humans. Bad fairies cursed humans. Good fairies blessed humans. It all came back to humans in a class about fairies.

Mal couldn’t find any writings by fairies in the library, except for a few tomes written by the Fairy Godmother, but something in her writing seemed so off to Mal. She couldn’t figure out what.

‘If that woman was on drugs, that would make so much more sense.’ The way Fairy Godmother always smiled and spoke in that chipmunk-like voice never failed to weird her out.

Mal wished she could talk to Carlos about it. She’d love to know if he hated those stupid pink bows she wore all the time.

Closing her textbook, Mal began putting everything back in her school bag. Maybe she couldn’t sit idly and wait for Carlos to get over it. Not even twelve hours had passed and she already wanted her best friend back.

‘What’s harmless flirting between best friends?’ she downplayed what actually happened between them, as if that would help them move on.

Mal stopped by the cafeteria, which always had healthy snack food set out between meals for students, and grabbed a banana for her mother. She considered eating something but passed, not having the stomach for food.

She marched to the boys’ dorms, up to the second floor, and found their dorm without even looking at the room numbers. The printed DO NOT DISTURB - SERIOUSLY sign taped at eye level helped.

Knocking yielded no response. Duh. They were probably still dead asleep. Lucky them.

Mal knocked again, adding, “It’s me. Open up.”

She tried the door knob, which jammed on the lock. Her finger thoughtfully tapped the keyhole. Already, she wanted to cast a spell to unlock it. She’d been wanting to use magic almost every few minutes that day. She told herself the feeling would subside, like an addiction. Going cold turkey about magic wasn’t supposed to be easy. That’s what made her giving up magic so admirable.

All of these thoughts were making her jumpy and irritable.

‘Damn it, Carlos, just open the door!’

She knocked louder, incessantly, until the door opened just enough to reveal Jay, hair flipped this way and that from just waking up.

“What?” he whispered insistently, as if it was the middle of the night and not late afternoon.

“I want to talk to Carlos.”

Jay rubbed sleep from his eyes. “He’s not here.”

She tried looking around him, but the room was completely dark from the guys’ blackout curtains. “Then where is he?”

“Not here. Why?”

“I need to talk to him,” she gritted out.

“I don’t think he’s in a talking mood.”

Mal wanted to snap at Jay that he was her friend first, she was there before Carlos, so show some loyalty. “Cotillion is in a few days, and I need him to finish my dress.”

Then from somewhere back in the dorm room, she heard Carlos’ tired voice say, “Tell her the yellow dress is finished.”

Jay leaned an arm up on the doorway. “Actually, I heard from Carlos that the yellow dress is finished.”

Mal nearly rolled her eyes into the back of her head. “Well tell Carlos that there’s a gap in— okay whatever, this is so stupid.” Her hands shoved against the door to open it, but Jay didn’t budge on the door. “Let me in! He’s obviously in there and avoiding me.”

He shrugged, exhaling thoughtfully. “I dunno, Mal, did you do anything that would make him want to avoid you?”

She stared at Jay, who was putting on his best ignorant facade. But now, Mal knew better. Or at least, she hoped she was reading into this wrong.

Keeping her voice quiet, she heatedly asked, “What do you think you know about me and Carlos?”

Pretending to look thoughtfully up at the ceiling, Jay hummed then said, “Maybe I know you’re kinda not sure what you want right now.”

Jay knew everything.

Mal threw herself at the door, but he pressed his leg and shoulder behind it. All she could do was hiss at Carlos through the door. “You told him?”

“Yeah, ‘cause we’re best friends,” Jay hissed back before forcing the door nearly closed, repelling her.

She stumbled a few steps back in her heels and wobbled, nearly falling over before catching herself. Mal wouldn’t relent. “Let me in, Jay. You were my friend first.”

“Aww man, don’t pull that,” Jay whined. “You know you did Carlos dirty, first with the whole stylist offer then whatever that was when we were escaping the Isle.”

Mal blushed, angry and embarrassed. She wanted to demand he confess to anything else Carlos may have told him. All of that was supposed to be private, between just the two of them. How dare he go behind her back and tell Jay about the things she said?

She moved closer to the door, and Jay braced his shoulder against it in case she made another attempt. Instead, she quietly said, “Carlos, I need my dress to fit so I don’t flash the Royal Cotillion. Do you want that?”

A few seconds later, a blue light illuminated Jay’s cheek. He squinted toward the light and said, “Carlos is really sure it’s finished. Eat three meals a day and the problem will fix itself.”

Fury flared in her, and her first struck the door once. ‘You little bitch!’ She could feel her knuckles bruising from the outburst.

“Help me!” she hissed. “Please!” Her voice broke. “Carlos…”

The blue light disappeared from the side of Jay’s face. There was no sound, no reply. She watched Jay barely turn his head to surely eye Carlos and whatever he was doing.

‘Don’t freeze me out. I’m finally doing the right thing. Please just support me on this,’ she wanted to beg through the door. Mal couldn’t believe herself. She wanted to beg for Carlos. Her mother would disown her if she hadn’t already. Hell, Mal wouldn’t even blame her for it this time.

The blue light was up by Jay’s face again. He took a couple seconds to read the text before saying, “Carlos might pop by around eight tonight to check the fit. No promises.”

“I can’t. I’m having dinner with Ben.”

And now she was back to waiting for Carlos to text in his notes app.

The blue light was back. “Carlos said—I mean, I bet Carlos would tell you that’s perfect, just ask the royal seamstresses to deal with it.” Jay’s flat delivery told her even he was tiring of this literal game of telephone.

Mal put both hands on the door. “Okay, eight o’clock. I’ll be there.”

The jingling of a dog collar announced Dude was awake and squeezing between Jay’s legs. He gave himself a shake, threw a puppy smile up at Mal, then trotted off down the hall.

Then there was Carlo’s hand, shoving itself between the door and Jay’s side. He held out Dude's leash for her.

“Also,” Jay said, “Dude needs a walk.”

Mal took the leash, her fingers trying to brush his skin, but he retreated too quickly. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Jay barely threw a “later” before closing the door. Mal didn’t care, she was already running after Dude. She pumped her arms to keep herself from falling over in the dainty shoes. After all of this, Carlos had better show up.

Candlelight illuminated the castle rose garden, and the light warmed the appearance of the flowers, giving everything a warm, pinkish glow. Mal could feel the dreamy atmosphere washing over her, dulling her into an almost sleepy, relaxed state as she settled into her cushioned dinner chair. The fresh, lightly scented air assuaged her earlier aches and pains from sleeping so poorly. This was all before the first course of a fruit salad, full of pitted cherries and something sour called pineapple.

The best part was it was just the two of them, her and Ben, minus the footmen twenty feet away and the servants who appeared with food and disappeared with empty plates. Mal figured that Ben’s parents and staff wanted to limit who saw the High King of the United Kingdoms of Auradon with a black eye and bruised cheek.

‘Harry really did a number on you,’ Mal had thought when Ben explained in full how his kidnapping happened.

“So what did you tell your parents?” she asked after their fruit plates were replaced with porcelain bowls full of strawberry soup.

“Nothing,” Ben said simply before eating spoonfuls.

Mal dipped her spoon into the cold soup and licked it off. “How did that go down?”

“Badly.” Ben shifted uncomfortably, visibly bothered. Mal could hardly count all of the tells that he had.

Mal abandoned her spoon in the soup and turned toward him, due to their chairs nearly being side by side at the round table. “I thought we were sharing our problems with each other."

Ben sighed, apologetically saying, “You’re right. Sorry. They asked—” he pressed his lips together but forced himself to finished “—if the VKs had anything to do with this.” Ben looked down at the bright pink soup. “I told them to never ask me something like that again.”

An understanding smile grew on her face. “So you and your dad had a fight.”

Ben visibly wilted. “Yeah.”

Her hand reached across the table to take his, and they intertwined with a comforting squeeze. Ben looked at her softly, and his face relaxed into a smile.

Mal remembered how barely two hours ago, she’d been reaching for Carlos’ hand. With the sudden need to prove she was worthy of Ben’s kind, loving gaze, Mal said, “I want you to know that no matter how much of a screw-up I am sometimes, I would never actually hand the Fairy Godmother’s wand over to Uma or anyone else who would hurt Auradon. I want to protect Auradon too.”

She lost herself in Ben’s perfect blue eyes. “I would do anything to protect Auradon.”

Ben’s other hand went over hers as he gently said, “I’m sorry I doubted you. I was scared, but I was wrong to think you’d really do it. I’m sorry.”

Guilt ate in her chest. “I’m sorry too.”

Without any regard for timing, servants took their soup bowls and refilled their half-empty water glasses. Mal self-consciously pulled her hands away and returned them to her lap, where she smoothed the white cloth dinner napkin. When they left, she started breathing again.

“Um,” she started, tucking stray hairs behind her ear. “I forgot the scooter on the Isle.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get you something else,” Ben said, his hands still on the table. “Are you excited about cotillion?”

“Y-yeah. I’m actually having another dress fitting tonight at eight, and I really need to be on time.” She had the sudden feeling that saying Carlos’ name was forbidden, as if Ben would have any idea that she’d kissed him just last night.

‘Three times.’ The ghostly sensation of his lips on hers and being so aware of his body made her briefly zone out.

Then she remembered what Carlos had said afterward, about her marrying Ben and the Royal Cotillion being a necessary step toward the union.

“Why did you say we’re not—” Mal shut her mouth when an arm reached around her side and deposited a plate full of roasted carrots, herb chicken, and cauliflower puree on the table. She heard Ben thank the servants before they left, and she forced herself to echo the sentiment.

Alone again, she finished, “Why did you say we’re not getting married? Everyone is saying this is getting engaged to be engaged to be married.”

Ben’s knife and fork paused halfway through cutting the chicken. “Oh.” He set the silverware down. “Who’s telling you that?”

“Jane. Lonnie.” Mal blinked, the corners of her mouth pulling back ruefully. “They can’t wait to see what our wedding will look like!” Her voice strained with emotion. “So when were you going to tell me when our wedding date is?”

“I am so sorry,” Ben quickly, earnestly said. Leaning forward, he explained, “I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you. That’s what they think, but to me, we’re not engaged until I go down on one knee and you say yes. You get a choice.”

Mal sniffled and inhaled deeply to settle her beating heart. She took Ben’s hand again, but that wasn’t enough. She leaned in close, tilted her chin up, and pressed her lips to his. The taste of strawberry soup sweetened the kiss. He was warm, and she loved this.

She loved this. Mal absolutely loved this.

When they pulled apart, Mal made sure that Ben was focused on cutting his chicken when she surreptitiously checked her pearly white and gold watch. She had an hour and a half until eight.

Chapter Text

Mal had been pacing her room and intermittently plopping onto her bed then restlessly rising again. She’d been doing this for fifteen minutes. Carlos had been late for five of them.

She fumed that he’d make her wait like this and even dare to say there was no promise he’d actually come. Anger made her feel powerful, overshadowing her fear that he really might not come.

Looking down at her mother, who munched the last of the banana she’d given her, Mal wondered what she must look like to her right now. She was dressed for cotillion in her grand yellow ballgown and gorgeous heels. Carlos had added studded spikes along the ankle along with the vibrant blue lace he’d sewn into the mesh fabric. He must have known she’d love it.

“Have you ever wanted someone to forgive you?”

The lizard spat out the half-chewed banana slice and looked at her with its blank, beady expression.

Mal tried imagining what her mother would say to her. ‘She’d probably yell at me for being weak, say that I never was bad enough to be evil, and it shows. I’m not good enough to be good either. But at least I had my friends. But now Carlos hates me, Jay took his side, and Evie…’

She’d lied to Evie, who’d been on secret adventures with her boyfriend. Mal could still see them connected from hip to shoulder as they embraced on Uma’s docks. A horrible whirlpool of guilt and jealousy swirled in her head the more she thought about it. She pressed her hands to the sides of her face, as if trying to keep out the thoughts of how well Ben and Evie would go together.

‘Evie’s a total mom friend, and she was born and bred to be Auradon royalty. She’s always thinking about other people just like Ben always does. And no offense to Doug, but Evie is so out of his league and he knows it. That’s why he’s always taking her on extravagant dates using his dad’s gem mine money. And Evie’s had the nerve to go around wearing a tiara on her head every day since we got to Auradon. She just makes everything look so easy and is so lovable and—‘

The door flew open.

“Let’s get this over with.”

Mal sat up, staring at him like he was a cryptid. Carlos wore a geometric patterned polo and red trousers. His normally straight hair looked tousled, as if he’d not bothered combing it all day.

He gestured impatiently toward the stand without looking at her. “Get up.”

She glanced down at her mom, who pointedly look from Carlos to her as if to ask, ‘Is this who you were talking about??’

“I’m closing the door first.”

Carlos held out an arm to stop her. “Nothing is going to happen that needs the door to be closed.” At least he was finally looking at her.

Mal followed his directions and stepped up onto the stand. He was being bitchy, but at least he was there, and that was opportunity enough for Mal to get him to talk to her. Talking could lead to her picking apart that De Vil armor and getting back in his good graces.

He walked around her, and forced herself to be still, to not turn and see how close he was. He wasn’t even touching her, yet she could feel him on her back. Goosebumps dotted her skin just anticipating his touch.

‘I’m just horny, because it’s not like Ben and I can do much with his family or footmen around,’ she tried justifying herself.

When she was finally about to snap at him for stalling, his fingers touched the back of her dress, checking its snugness at the bottom of her shoulder blades. His fingers quickly dipped between the fabric and her skin. Then the fabric pulled tight, straining uncomfortably against her chest before he stopped pinching it together.

“The fit is perfect. Not even Artie would have notes, and he taught me everything I know about tailoring.”

His hands ran down the taffeta and tulle for what she imagined to be the last time. He came back around to her front without making eye contact. She sadly watched him kneel to the ground and brush aside her dress to check the studs and rhinestones he’d added to the shoes. His fingers brushed her ankle as he double-checked that nothing was amiss.

Her mouth went dry. This couldn’t be the last time Carlos touched her. She knew it was unforgivable, the way she wanted both Ben and Carlos. He’d made it abundantly clear he didn’t want her when she wouldn’t break up with Ben. And yet, she found herself moving figurative chess pieces like this was a game she could win and everything she ever wanted was the prize.

Mal convinced herself that she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to. She needed the fairy tale of Ben just as much as she needed the rebellion of Carlos.

‘You kissed me back. You wouldn’t have told me me to stay away from you if you weren’t dying like I am.’

Except she wasn’t dying, she quickly corrected herself, because everything was perfect again. Maybe there was one little, imperfect thing that happened to ruin her sleep and haunt her all day. Other than this issue with Carlos, her life was everything she wanted it to be.

He went around her and began checking the cape, spreading it over the dress, lifting it, and letting it fall. Coming back around to her front, Carlos double-checked how the laser cut blue leather rested over her collarbone. His fingers traced the leather’s edge, ghosting over her skin. His eyes were so dark, so focused.

She played her next move.

“You know, I am sorry.”

His hands fell away from her. “For which part?”

“For—” She reached for that perfect answer that would give him what he wanted “—kissing you when I already have a boyfriend.”

She gave a paranoid glance toward the open door.

“And?”

She huffed a breath, feeling pressured. “And for—”

Mal remembered Jay accusing her of trying to make Carlos her “stylist.” So, Carlos must have talked about that at length, because it was a particular point of contention for him.

“—asking you to give up college to stay on as my stylist and other things I won’t say with my door wide open.”

Carlos, pained, stared up at her. “Are you sorry?” he softly asked. “Or do you just hate having consequences for once?”

Mal hated feeling like he had her pinned with so few words. Her pride reared its head, spiteful and unwilling to put up with him playing the victim when he kissed her back.

“What I hate is you went and talked about me behind my back to Jay,” she seethed.

Brown eyes burning, he straightened up and sarcastically retorted, “Oh, I’m sorry I told our friend about the shitty things you said to me about being your side piece when you’re queen.”

Through gritted teeth, she said, “Can we close the door now?”

“No,” he curtly replied. “Because we’re done. And don’t talk to me again after this.”

Carlos headed toward the door, and everything was falling apart again. Mal wouldn’t let him go like this. “Carlos, I’m your friend, and you’re being so mean to me right now.”

He stopped and turned around. Just when she thought she’d got him, he said, “It sucks, doesn’t it? That’s what it’s like, Mal. That’s what it’s always been like for me.”

Carlos shook his head, giving a disbelieving snort. “I couldn’t believe it when you barged into my room the other day and asked if I missed running around and yelling at people. As if I was ever like you. The worst part? You didn’t even see me all of those times you bullied me. I’m just a prop to you.”

Her heart sank, and to her horror, he strode toward the door. He’d be gone just like that.

“Carlos!” she whispered, leaping off the stand to push her way around him and closed the door.

His eyes flashed angrily at seeing her overstep boundaries again. So what, she decided. Their whole friendship was on the verge of ruin. She was losing the boy who said he didn’t want her to change, that he liked her, magic and all. Drastic measures needed taken.

Her gloved hands grasped at his sleeves. “That’s not true!” she begged him to understand, her voice straining from loudly whispering. “You’re not a prop or a coward or any of those things you’re scared people see you as! If you weren’t a whole person to me, I wouldn’t be going crazy like this! I was so wrong and horrible when I bullied you when we were kids. And I’m really, really sorry. What do you want so I can prove to you how much you mean to me?”

The first real thing of value she ever had in her life were her best friends. If Carlos needed a sign, a favor, a gift, or even 101 Dalmatian pelts, she’d damn well give it to him.

Instead of making demands, Carlos stood there with mouth agape. Little sounds escaped him, as if he’d nearly put together a word before losing it. He appeared to be processing what she said and at a loss for what to request.

He’d been wrong footed, but before Mal could capitalize on the moment, he said, “I’m—” he cleared his throat “—I’m gonna leave now.”

Brushing her hands off of his sleeves, Carlos went around Mal and opened the door.

He was halfway out the door when she got the half-baked idea to say, “My gloves don’t fit.”

It was the one thing he hadn’t checked. It was absolutely untrue, but it got him to stop, reconsider, then turn back around.

When Carlos took her forearm and hand in both of his to examine, his fingers pressed into the thin gap of flex space between her skin and the glove. He felt the fabric around her forearm for any looseness or tightness. His thumb rubbed her palm to check its flexibility, not knowing how Mal struggled to not grab his hand. He gently bent her arm upward, visually checking the finger holes.

When his serious eyes went from the glove to her, he saw straight through her.

“It doesn’t fit,” she boldly lied again. Her stomach churned nervously.

Carlos imperceptibly turned his head. She could see the questions spinning in his eyes. He surely knew she was lying.

Without warning, he pinched the laser cut blue leather over her palm and slid the glove off. He tossed the material over his shoulder then took Mal’s other hand and repeated the motion. Her hands rubbed her forearms, feeling undressed.

“I’ll have them ready night of the cotillion.”

Her plan fell apart. “But I want them before then!”

He shrugged. “Too bad. They don’t fit.”

Carlos strode out the door and down the hallway. Mal mentally grasped for anything to say, to convince him otherwise.

He really did hate her.

It was like her strength fell through her feet. Stepping back into her room, she let the door snap shut behind her. Mal dragged her body of skin and bones to her bed, where she fell without a care she might wrinkle her dress. Her head pressed uncomfortably against a pillow, causing her chignon to messily unravel. Blinking, she realized her mother was staring at her.

Maybe Maleficent would tell her she was an embarrassment of a daughter even less deserving to share her name. Or, she’d tell Mal this was what she got for turning on her mother for the first boy with pretty blue eyes who took her on a date. Or maybe, possible but way less likely, she would remember what it was like to be eighteen and different.

“I wish you were here.”

The lizard sat there, right at the edge of the tank.

The text message came while Evie was in the shower, washing off a long Saturday of pretending to be happy with Doug and forcing her eyes to stay open. She’d completely failed during the play they went to see, dozing off in the first act, and she apologized to a disappointed Doug more than once for it. Evie could hardly explain to him that she’d stayed up all right visiting her mother, nearly dying twice, and rescuing Ben.

After dinner, she parted ways with the excuse she liked to do her “everything shower” on Saturday nights, and those took at least an hour. In truth, she took a quick shower, used her favorite lotion and hair oil, then fell onto her bed to regain enough energy to continue getting ready for bed.

‘I have so much to do before cotillion, and I didn’t get anything done today,’ she lamented. Evie considered again asking Carlos for help. She didn’t want to share her burden, but she might not have a choice. Chad had requested more alterations to his ridiculous outfit, she couldn’t get Jane’s dress to look right, and Arabella’s dress needed altered so it wouldn’t catch on the wheels of her wheelchair.

She grabbed her phone from the bedside table to check her notifications when a knock tapped at her door. Still in her bath robe, Evie threw her hair and horns into the hair towel before peeking the door open.

“Hey Lonnie—”

“Evie!” The tall girl barged into Evie’s room with a big, excited smile. Hands open, she started, “I want to change up what I’m wearing to cotillion!”

Lonnie wanted to change her already finished dress. Evie could only stare at her.

Apparently mistaking Evie’s stunned silence for being on the edge of her seat, Lonnie announced, “I’m going to wear a pantsuit to cotillion!”

“Pant…suit…?” Her brain was breaking.

“Yeah! Just take the fabric you used for my dress and turn it into a pantsuit!” Lonnie said with bright, bubbly confidence. “Jay and I are going to cotillion as just friends, and he won’t care what I wear. And I’d way rather wear pants than a dress!”

Evie blinked, trying to regain her senses. “Oh, uh, that’s great about you two…but…”

“Thank you so much!” Lonnie pulled Evie into a tight hug that nearly lifted the blue-haired girl off her feet. “I can’t wait to see it! I know it’s going to look AWESOME!”

The taller girl released her and bounded out the door. Evie dazedly closed and locked it behind her as she tried mentally working through how she’d make this happen on top of everything else.

‘Too bad cotillion orders aren’t my only problem.’

Changing into pajamas, she finished her nightly skincare and haircare routine. Evie looked in her vanity’s mirror one more time and turned her head one way then the other while considering her horns. Their appearance had become not quite so alarming to her, and she wondered if she should be doing anything in particular to care for them. Would they be healthier with a coat of oil or wax? Should she use a small brush on them while showering?

Evie saved these and other questions for after cotillion. She had the most luxurious part of her day to enjoy, and that was cozying into the thick mattress with its feather-stuffed pillows. She had to leave so much room between the pillows and her headboard thanks to her horns. Otherwise, sleep was not much affected.

She grabbed her cell phone to check her alarm was set. That’s when she saw Ben’s message.

Are you free for breakfast tomorrow? There’s somewhere I want to take you, and there’s a lot I want to talk about. If it’s okay with you, I’d like it to be just us. Is 7:30 too early?

She read it again, but this time in his voice. She wanted to talk to him too.

I want to see you too. 7:30 is fine.

He didn’t leave her waiting.

Outside the library, in the topiary garden near the Enchanted Woods — I’ll wait for you there.

A mauve blanket of stars hung high over Ben as he waited with butterflies in his stomach. Leaning against the blue car’s hood, he scanned the garden of hedges and leafy green silhouettes. Only the tinkling of the little tiered fountain and trilling of nearby birdsong permeated the quiet morning.

That was just as well that no one was up yet. Ever since his parents’ reaction to his bruises, Ben avoided unnecessarily seeing people. He’d already snapped at Cogsworth when the major-domo repeatedly insisted on delaying cotillion over his injuries.

Ben lightened his own mood afterward by imagining telling them the truth, that he’d gone to the Isle of the Lost, met with the Evil Queen, fought a pirate, punched a Shrieking Eel, and these bruises were all he got for the whole adventure. Cogsworth would nearly faint. His mother would look like she could barely believe he was still alive, and his father would be enraged.

The bruises on his face did have the bonus effect of clearing public appearances from his schedule until cotillion. He inhaled the clear air and felt lighter knowing where he was going this morning and that Evie would be coming along. He had a few surprises for her. Ben had promised her one particular gift, and he thought they both deserved a treat after everything they’d went through, everything they’d learned.

“Dr. Facilier told me himself that Tinkerbell used such language when they came her for that even the King blushed! They tore off her wings anyway, poor thing.”

He’d woken up that night in a cold sweat and those words echoing in his mind. Horror churned in his chest. Ben wondered not for the first time if what the Evil Queen said could be trusted.

“It’s no surprise he confiscated the Blue Fairy’s wand, but acquiring the Divine Rose would have been particularly personal for that creature.”

Personal to his father — Ben did not need to meditate for long to determine she most likely meant the Divine Rose wand belonged to the Enchantress who cursed his father. But, she hadn’t done that to be cruel but to teach him a lesson. Of course, Ben believed it was wrong of her to curse the castle’s subjects as well. She had abused her magic, he’d been taught, and that was reason enough why magic should be severely restricted.

Still, Tinkerbell, the Blue Fairy, and the Enchantress weren’t villains. If what Grimhilde said was true, then why were they treated like they were?

His thoughts swept away with the appearance of a blue figure flitting around the tall stone balustrade leading up to the Auradon Prep library. His heart leapt seeing Evie, adorned in a dark blue sun hat, a blue, ruffled romper, and of course, always heels. The best part was her smile as she zig-zagged through the waist-high hedges and closer to him.

He smiled widely when she reached the sidewalk where he waited. “Good morning!” Ben pushed off the car and caught her in a warm hug.

She hugged back and breathed a, “Good morning!” back to him before looking at the car and asking, “Where are we going?”

He guided her by the hand to the passenger door and opened it for her. “Somewhere I haven’t gone since before coronation.”

Carefully closing the door once she’d seated herself, Ben went to his side and got in. This was the car he’d been allowed to get on his sixteenth birthday despite being encouraged against it. His parents and the royal staff wanted him to be driven around, but Ben valued his ability to do things on his own.

The car rolled off down the drive, out the gates, and past the welcome sign to Auradon Prep. He glanced briefly from the road to Evie, who smiled excitedly. He realized he’d not stopped doing the same.

“My mom’s dad has a cottage out in the woods where she grew up. I used to go all the time when my grandfather was still there,” Ben reminisced as they took the turn off into the Enchanted Forest.

He remembered reading about this very road having been a point of contention. The road was planned to go right through a gnome village which had been in the Enchanted Forest for Hundreds of years. The quarrel had ended so peacefully, as well as in Auradon’s favor when the gnomes agreed to leave their village and assimilate into the capital city of Auradon. That’s what Ben had been taught as a young prince studying conflict-resolution with his tutors.

Just like how Ben was taught everyone unanimously agreed to give up magic the same way his father was unanimously voted to be High King after he united the kingdoms. These same families unanimously voted to put all of the villains on the Isle of the Lost.

But if Grimhilde was telling him the truth, then that meant the decision to give up magic hadn’t been so black and white. Good people and creatures may have resisted. And if that was true, then what else wasn’t?

“Ben?” A gentle hand touched his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

When he softly uttered, “Yeah…,” she softly ventured, “So your grandfather…When did you lose him?”

“Oh, uh, when Mom and Dad surprised him with a beachside villa. He spends most of the year there now.” Ben spotted the unmarked turn off, slowed the car, and eased onto the old dirt road.

“O-oh… Well that sounds really nice.”

Ben turned his chin enough to watch her self-consciously busy herself by tucking and un-tucking her hair behind her ears.

‘Eyes on the road,’ he chided himself.

“So, how have you been doing since last night?” Ben thoughtlessly glanced at her again. “I tried checking on Jay and Carlos, but they had a Do Not Disturb sign up at nearly three in the afternoon. I was hoping to talk to Carlos and clear the air.”

In spare moments, Ben had been trying to piece together the other boy’s parting words to Mal. ‘Don’t talk to me.’ Hearing such devastating words pierced Ben in his heart. Then he watched Mal do something she’d never done, not even when her mother turned into a dragon and attacked them at his coronation.

Mal had frozen. The most incredible, clever girl in the whole world had frozen. He’d decided against bringing it up during their dinner date, because they both deserved a chance to decompress.

“Did Mal mention anything about Carlos to you?” Evie asked, worriedly smoothing her hands over her purse.

Ben tilted his head toward the road in an effort to not keep looking at her. “No, I was kind of hoping she’d said something to you. I just want to see what I can do to help. That, and thank him. Jane told me he’s working on her cotillion dress, and I wanted to just thank him for being a good friend to Mal. She’s really needed the support lately.”

Not that she’d shared that with him until recently, but Ben was glad that maybe Carlos had been that friend.

“The way I see what happened,” Ben continued, “is that Carlos wouldn’t be so hurt right now if he and Mal hadn’t gotten really close.”

He could still see the look on Mal’s face. Only someone held in her heart could do that to her.

Softly, Ben added, “I really want to help make things right.”

He managed to not look at Evie for her reaction, but when her hand gently touched his shoulder, that was all he needed.

The forest trees parted, and a lovely old cottage came into view. Its humble watermill dipped into the rivulet running alongside it. Two wind vanes stood atop its red roof. An old horse stable stood off to the side, boarded up and converted into a shed. The backdrop to it all was a rolling hill of springy grass.

The smile returned to his face upon parking and looking directly at her. “Welcome to my hideaway.”

He got out and retrieved a cooler from the trunk. Closing it, he found Evie already standing outside with her arms crossed and eyes curiously taking in her new, provincial surroundings.

Noticing his attention, Evie shyly admitted, “I’m not very outdoorsy.”

Ben walked over to her and held up the cooler. “Perfect, because we are going inside.”

The cottage smelled warm and dusty, just like he remembered it. They passed the patchwork sofa where a younger version of himself had spent days reading by a crackling fire on cool nights.

He’d devoured adventures stories of brave young men happening upon a grand adventure, overcoming odds, and saving their kingdom. Secretly, his favorite had been about a farm boy who fell in love with a girl only slightly less poor than he but still out of his reach. After a series of disasters, he became a pirate and returned to save her from marrying a terrible rich man. There had been a fantastic sword fight in the farm boy’s pursuit to save her, and that’s why Ben first asked for fencing lessons.

‘I should see if that book is still up in Mom’s old bedroom.’ He hoped Evie might like it too.

In the kitchen, he set the small cooler up on the wooden kitchen counter. Ben parted the red curtains, and sunlight poured over the warm, maplewood floor.

“Sometimes, I’d pretend I was a farm boy,” he found himself telling her, “Grandpa would play along, and I loved it. I’d do all sorts of chores around this place, mostly gardening. When he still kept horses, I’d clean and trim their hooves.”

Ben valued his position as king and wouldn’t trade away such an honor and responsibility. But, sometimes, he needed a moment to feel like his life wasn’t so big.

Evie hummed and looked at him thoughtfully. “So what’s for breakfast—” She tilted her head, long blue hair fall over her shoulder “—farm boy?”

Grinning, he opened the cooler then began setting a bottle of milk, a small carton of brown eggs, and butter on the counter. “I’m not much of a cook, but Grandpa showed me how to make oven pancakes. They’re so much better than regular ones.”

He opened up a bottom cupboard and pulled out a well-loved cast iron skillet. He continued reaching into other drawers and cupboards to retrieve everything else he’d need. When he returned from the pantry with the flour, he paused.

Evie had removed her hat, leaving it dangling from a coat rack, and checked her hair and horns in the reflective china cabinet door.

“Your horns don’t stand out,” Ben gently assured her, abandoning the flour with the other ingredients on his way toward her. “I mean, they don’t change anything about you.”

Evie’s fingers dragged from her horns, through her hair, and out her ends. “Do you think I’ll never be normal again too?”

His heart hurt for her to see herself this way. “I’m ready for this to be the new normal. You’re still you, and you’re still beautiful.”

Divinely so, with the hair of a darkly fading twilight sky and warm, dark eyes like the earth.

Evie smiled, but she struggled to look directly at him. Her downcast gaze made him notice the length of her dark lashes and curve of her nose.

He found himself shyly confessing, “I stopped by your room yesterday to see how you were doing, but you weren’t there.”

She looked at him, and Ben wished he could read the look in her eyes. “No, actually I spent the day with Doug.”

Ben thought she sounded off. “Is everything okay?”

When she visibly deflated, he had the mind to put the old brass kettle on for tea. Opening the lid, he began filling it with water so she could gather her words without pressure from him.

“I—I’m going to break up with Doug.”

He turned off the faucet. His heart beat like a bass drum.

“Oh,” he dumbly replied, standing there with a half-full kettle and little memory of what he planned to do with it.

“I haven’t told anyone.” Her brow knitted together in worry. “Just you. I’m, um, not doing it until after cotillion. Breaking up before would just be too mean.”

“I’m—” He realized he still held the kettle and put it on the stove “—so sorry. Are you all right?”

She took a deep breath. When she spoke, her voice sounded brittle. “I’m just sad it’s over. It was my first relationship. I thought we were going to be in love.” Evie tightly crossed her arms as if to hug herself. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

Ben quickly nodded, eagerly wanting to hear whatever she wanted to know about him.

“What was it like when you realized it was over between you and Audrey?”

Ben couldn’t remember. He’d been fond of Audrey, but when Mal stepped out of that limousine, everything fell away, including the girlfriend clinging to his arm. Saying this to Evie suddenly felt awkward, so he busied himself with reaching for the stove’s knobs only to find they weren’t there. Right, his grandfather never upgraded from his cast iron oven.

“I’m going to answer that, but I just realized I need to get the wood burning.” Ben felt very foolish as he rushed to pile wood stashed in the pantry into the fire box and used a long match to light it. Despite it having been years, he remembered well what his grandfather taught him.

Admittedly, Ben knew he hadn’t properly broken up with Audrey in a way befitting a princess. He’d publicly declared his love for another girl, but he thought maybe Audrey wasn’t that upset. She’d started dating Chad just as abruptly and seemed to have reached a peaceful understanding with Mal after she saved them all from Maleficent.

But, Ben also knew better than to tell Evie that breaking up was so easy after he first saw mischievous eyes and a smirking mouth.

Setting the cast iron pan on the stove with a generous pat of butter in the center, Ben began prepping the batter. Then he stopped, realizing he’d delayed suspiciously long and was beginning to look silly for it.

He turned to where she patiently stood, watching him. Honest was all he could be. “I’d fallen in love with someone else. I’ve always found it easy to follow my heart.”

He regretted his words instantly as her expression crumpled.

Voice strained, she said, “That’s really nice.” Evie cleared her throat, and Ben thought she seemed to be forcing something to stay inside. “But what if following your heart made you a bad person?”

Eyes wide, he stepped closer to her. “I don’t believe our hearts could ask for anything bad.”

Taking in a deep breath and hugging herself until her shoulders hunched, Evie replied, “No, I mean, what if I followed what my heart wants, but because of the situation, it made me a bad, selfish person?”

Ben unconsciously leaned toward her as if physical closeness could help him understand. “What does your heart want?”

They stared at each other.

Evie was so wise and kind. She made him feel like he had agency to actually help people, to do something good. Whatever she wanted, he wanted to help her get it.

‘What if she’s in love with someone else?’ A pit opened in his chest.

“Pancakes.” Evie’s eyelashes fluttered. “I’d really like pancakes.”

Ben abruptly turned back to the ingredients and mixing bowl. “Right, sorry! Let’s see…”

He did the measuring, cracking, pouring, and whisking. He held the large mixing bowl in one arm while the other vigorously whisked until the mixture was light and frothy.

Picking up the heavy skillet with the a dish towel around the handle, Evie swished the melted butter to coat the bottom and sides. “I think this is what my mom and I used to make for Christmas.”

Ben stopped whisking and watched, hoping she’d share more. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she said contemplatively, setting the skillet back on the stove to stay warm. “We never could have a tree, but I’d make wreaths out of dyed green fabric and paper chains to decorate. Some years, Mom and I freshened up things lying around the castle to give each other.”

Evie went over to the cupboards to busy herself finding a pair of plates and silverware. “But every year, we’d make this really fluffy pancake in our own cast iron oven. We only had the ingredients because of Anastasia Tremaine’s husband. He’d gift us some butter, flour, and eggs every year.”

“Because you guys were in the same, um, territory? Turf!” Ben remembered Evie telling him about the Isle having a turf system that Auradon was completely unaware of. Or at least, Ben was.

“Maybe.” Evie began setting the tiny, round table under a window overlooking the stream. “I think he was being kind, because he knew we couldn’t go outside.”

Ben remembered he wasn’t just learning about Evie’s past but also making the one thing her heart desired: breakfast. That little joke made him smile as he poured the well-whipped batter into the skillet.

Instead of opening the fire door so the pancake could start baking, Ben asked what he knew might be a loaded question.

“Why couldn’t you and your mom go outside for years?”

Evie looked around the kitchen until she found clothe napkins to add to the table. With nothing else to distract herself with, she crossed her arms and stood awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen.

Fearing he’d made her nervous, Ben went about opening the fire door to set the cast iron skillet on the grate. He quickly pulled his hand back and reminded himself to wear protective leather gloves next time.

With breakfast going and the kettle bubbling as it grew hotter, Ben crossed the space between them and reached out to cup the outside edge of her elbow. The touch felt like a static shock, and Ben wondered how that could be when it was skin-on-skin.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry into your past.”

She shifted her weight to one side, causing his touch to go from light to firm and supportive. Her sad smile was a bittersweet gift.

“I’m trying to leave the past where it belongs. I’ve forgiven Mal and her mother. We were banished for not inviting Mal to my 6^th birthday party. There were misunderstandings between me and Mal, and there was competition between our mothers for leader of the Isle. And for as big a deal as all of us made it, it doesn’t matter anymore,” Evie said with finality.

Wise, fair, kind — Ben wanted to be more like her. She wouldn’t have lost her temper like he did with his parents yesterday. She would know how to get the Royal Council on her side for a simple change in museum exhibits.

“There’s something I want to give you.” Ben paused, awkward as he realized, “It’s outside.”

Evie inhaled as if remembering to breath. “Okay.”

Ben rushed out of the cottage quicker than necessary and returned with a wicker basket. “I forgot the stuff for tea too!” He really didn’t need to say that, but he couldn’t escape the giddiness dumbing his senses whenever he presented a gift to someone special.

Opening the basket, he first set out the porcelain teapot dotted with rosebuds. Next came the matching teacups, saucers, and tea tin. Then, he retrieved a small, blue leather case with Evie’s name embossed in gold.

Ben, grinning widely, presented the gift and opened the lid with a proud, “Ta-da!”

A dozen gorgeous, shining lipstick cases laid among navy blue velvet just begging to be touched. Caught by their spell, Evie ran her fingers along the cases while her other hand covered her mouth in disbelief. He had no doubt she recognized those brand names printed up the sides. He expected they meant more to her. Thank goodness he had the help of Plumette for putting this together.

Grinning to the point his face hurt, Ben said, “I told you I’d get you more to replace the one ruined writing that sign on the Isle.”

The case snapped shut and went to his side as Evie’s arms abruptly threw themselves around his neck. Her silky hair rubbed against his cheek. When she turned her head to nuzzle his shoulder, the side of a horn tapped against the top of his head.

“Thank you so much,” she murmured.

His heart could have filled to the point of bursting.

He squeezed her back in response and wouldn’t let go until she did, taking a step back. Evie’s fingers smoothed her hair, which really needed no tending to.

“That reminds me, I brought my make-up kit so I could try hiding your bruises after we have breakfast. By the way, are we having anything with it?”

Did she mean a side or — Ben looked back at the cooler and realized he’d forgotten the maple syrup.

“My grandfather has wild blackberry bushes. We could pick some—” he held up a finger, catching himself “—or I’ll pick some, because you’re in heels.”

Evie smiled. “And meanwhile, I’ll fix tea for us.”

“Perfect!” Ben started toward her, ready to give her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. Then his conscience said maybe he shouldn’t. Ben typically appreciated his conscience, but now he was giving two thumbs up like an idiot and rushing out the back door.

Finding the blackberry bramble out behind his grandfather’s back fence, Ben desperately wondered why he became such a dork around Evie sometimes. She was too warm to be intimidating, and they were closer than ever recently. He was comfortable yet jumpy around her. He remembered so much of when they’re together yet became so forgetful in other areas. This made no sense.

By the time he remembered he needed something to gather the berries, retrieved a basket from the shed, and actually gathered them, Ben realized he’d never set a timer and went back inside.

The old wooden door opened on creaky hinges, and a warm, cedar aroma mixed with something buttery and sweet filled his lungs. Evie, wearing protective leather gloves, knelt beside the open fire door as she judged the pancake. Satisfied, she pulled it out and set it on a thick hand towel she’d set on the counter.

For as long as it took them to make breakfast, the result was well worth it. They barely spoke upon digging in, splitting the large pancake between the two of them and covering their spongy semi-circles in juicy blackberries.

Ben cleaned the last few bites from his plate and entertained wistful thoughts of them staying all day. Despite his protests, Evie wouldn’t listen as she cleared the table for them. In retaliation, he poured their tea and added the splash of cream he knew she liked.

Rather than immediately sit back down, Evie pulled her chair around the corner so it was side-by-side with his. His heart did something funny when she sat down, facing toward him.

“Um—?”

She held up the make-up pouch she’d retrieved from her purse. “Let’s do a test run for your cotillion look and make those bruises disappear.”

Ben didn’t ask questions while Evie rubbed cotton pads over his face and dabbed on cool gels that quickly melted into his skin. While her ring finger gently rubbed circles over the largest bruise on his cheek, Ben gained the courage to say what had been on his mind.

Looking down shamefully, he said, “I’m sorry I didn’t save you.”

Her hand stilled but didn’t leave him. When he looked up, he found her staring in concern and confusion.

“But you did.”

He had saved her from the Shrieking Eel and helped her up the ladder, but he’d failed her first.

“When Harry Hook pushed you into the water, I should have done what you did for me and dove in after. Instead, I gave into my anger. I attacked him when his sword wasn’t even drawn.”

Ben had been more than ready, already furious after listening to that pirate make advances on her, suggesting activities Ben would never dream asking Mal before marriage. And all of this was after Ben’s helpless moment of listening to that stranger on the street call Evie a derogatory term.

Evie’s fingers resumed gently dabbing on green color corrector. His eyes half-closed, feeling soothed.

Quietly, as if speaking at a normal tone would make her stop, Ben confessed, “I have an anger problem. I know most people don’t expect that from me, but the people closest to me know I do. I’ve worked my whole life to hide it”

His parents, Mal — they knew all too well, and he felt he could never apologize enough for it.

“Dad demanded to know how I got these bruises. I hadn’t figured out a good lie yet, so I said I was doing some practice sparring, and when I fell, my mask wasn’t properly secure. But then—” Ben huffed frustratedly, his pulse going up just talking about it “— but then Dad started accusing me of dueling Carlos again. I felt terrible! Of course Dad would think that.”

Ben hadn’t forgotten Carlos’ blunt reminder that he’d not been the reason that he didn’t get thrown back on the Isle. Carlos said “his people” might exile al of the VKs. The accusation confused Ben, because he didn’t feel like he had “his people.” Some days, Ben felt like he was part of a machine working with minimal input from him.

“I got angry and told Dad to mind his own business. I tried telling him I wasn’t just his son anymore, that I was his king.” Ben’s nose felt tingly, a sure sign he was turning red.

“Then Dad said—” he paused, holding tight to his emotions “—he said it’s not because I act like one.”

Then Ben had yelled, voice bouncing off the high ceiling as he demanded to know why he was even made king.

He shamefully turned his face away from her and toward the window. Mountainous white clouds on a perfect blue sky sailed over the rolling hill he used to climb as a child.

‘I thought I was ready for this, that I’d worked through my doubts, but I don’t deserve my crown at all.’

His hands were gathered together into smaller ones. He looked at Evie, and in her gaze, he felt the overwhelming relief of love and understanding.

“You have nothing to apologize for. You avenged me. You were brave for me. This proof is—”  her ring finger began gently tapping his bruises “—here, here, and here.”

“Thank you,” quietly left his lips, more air than sound. He closed his eyes and let his whole body relax into the chair as she dabbed on concealer. No one had ever touched his face like this. He felt so close to her right now.

Curiosity struck him. It wasn’t the kind that made him look up just how long Shrieking Eels actually got. This curiosity more so resembled when the castle kitchens smell of cookies and he wanted to know if he could charm the cook for any.

“When are you breaking up with Doug after cotillion?”

“Probably when I figure out what I’m going to say to Doug. It really isn’t anything he did.”

“Well, maybe don’t sing and dance,” Ben joked, trying to lighten the mood. Then inspiration struck, and he opened his eyes to declare, “Or actually, maybe that is the answer!”

“What?”

“We’ll do a flash mob!” Ben didn’t mean it, but he didn’t believe Evie, already so tactful and thoughtful, needed his advice on how to break-up with a boy. “I could get the R.O.A.R. Team in on it, and I bet Jane and the cheer squad would help! The chorus could have us spelling out B-R-E-A-K then yelling UP! And in the verses, you could explain why!”

He painted a ludicrous picture, but a spark of humor returned to her eyes. He had to keep going, if only for that.

“By the time we’re done, he won’t even care about the break-up. He’ll just be glad the song is over!”

Evie, giggling behind her manicure, said, “Ben, that sounds R-I-D-I-C-U—”

They lost it. Ben was bent over laughing into his tea. Evie laughed until her eyeliner smudged in the corners. One of them may have snorted from laughing so hard. Neither would have been able to say who. That, like this morning, would be just between them.

Chapter Text

Cotillion was tomorrow.

And Mal was overwhelmed. Half of her day had been spent at Castle Beast, where so much breathless prep went on that anyone could be mistaken to think this was a royal wedding.

Every surface was dusted, and every vase received a new bouquet of flowers, making the cathedralesque hallways smell hot and lush like a greenhouse. The polished suits of armor became blinding as the morning sunlight angled through the windows. Mouthwatering smells wafted from the kitchens as the chefs tested and finalized their ten course meal. Belle had assured Mal that they kept it “small” since this was only the first step. Mal didn’t have to clarify what this was a first step toward.

She’d completed two hours of ballroom dance with an instructor all while gagging on that thought. At least Ben didn’t see her becoming Lady of the Court as pre-engagement. Yet, as the morning went on with an etiquette instructor checking that Mal knew when to use her salad fork versus her dinner fork, she began to think he’d been naive to act like it wasn’t.

“When do you get to be happy, Mal?” Carlos’ accusatory voice rang in her head as she forced down tiny bites of a cucumber sandwich while Ariel excitedly described the deep sea-inspired pink and sea foam green carriage they’d ordered to be made just for cotillion.

‘Not when you’re married,’ she echoed Carlos. ‘Not when you’re queen, and definitely not when you give them kids.’

She gave up on eating and sipped her tea instead, or as she’d come to think of it, gross leaf water. Belle hosted a luncheon for her friends in her beloved corner of her library so they could describe all of the things they’d bought, the hairstylists hired, and the royal heirlooms dusted off for the Royal Cotillion.

People started “oohing” over the inlaid pearl details Ariel described while Mal half-paid attention. On cue, she went, “Ooh I love that.”

Only her friends would know she didn’t care about inlaid pearl anything. Everything among the royal families was rich and extravagant but filled her as much as a cucumber sandwich. She liked money. Fuck, she loved money. Each fine thing passed into her hands for her own delight lit her up like her first ever bite of a strawberry.

Wanting was in her past. It should have been in her past, but she was starving and couldn’t figure out what was missing.

“Mal, you haven’t told us about your debut dress yet,” Ariel thoughtfully shared the conversation.

“Ben said your friend Evie is designing it,” Belle gently encouraged her to share more.

Evie designed her a new wardrobe every season, but fashion houses sent her gorgeously wrapped boxes full of free shoes, dresses, and purses — all for free. She’d stay loyal to Four Hearts Boutique, but she loved having these fashion houses vying for her devotion. Fools. Like she’d ever betray Evie.

‘Not telling her the truth about me and Carlos isn’t betraying her, because it’s not her business.’

“Yeah,” Mal started, unconsciously delaying by sipping her tea. “But Carlos is helping her out.”

Jasmine’s teacup clinked down onto the saucer. “The boy who attacked Ben?”

Mal smiled tightly at her. “My friend who dueled the king. Yeah.”

“Jasmine, it was all a misunderstanding,” Belle smoothed things over, her voice full and sweet. “Carlos De Vil is nothing like his mother.” Turning to Mal, she took her hand and gave it a happy squeeze. “I can’t wait to see your yellow dress. Did you take any photos of it?”

Mal nearly asked, “With what?” before realizing Belle expected her to be using her phone. The sleek cell phone the royal family gifted her laid with a dead battery in the back of her wardrobe. She couldn’t stand being so readily available to other people. If people wanted to bother her, they should at least have to put some effort into it.

“I left it in my room. I didn’t want it distracting me from getting ready,” Mal waved off. Even without her magic, she had her guile.

“To think not so long ago you were arriving in Auradon, and tomorrow, you’re making your debut as Lady of the Court.” Belle smiled at her so lovingly, as if Mal were her own daughter. “I can’t wait to see your yellow dress. My first ballgown means so much to me.”

Of course, because why else would the museum put it on display in a special exhibit inspired by the Royal Cotillion? Mal thought compared to the illustrations she’d seen of Belle’s most famous dress, the real, live-action dress was a gross let down.

‘I bet Carlos hates it. The skirt didn’t even look finished.’

Belle hesitated before hopefully adding, “I would love it if your dress was displayed alongside mine after tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Mal never could anticipate just how nice these Auradonians could be. “That’s really nice of you. I’d love that.”

Worry crept in that Belle might dislike the Isle flair which Carlos had given the dress, but Mal dismissed it. The alterations represented her personality better than anything sent to her from the other fashion houses.

“Mulan and I stopped by the exhibit together,” Jasmine said, relaxing into her seat. “Lonnie told her she’s going with your friend Jay.”

“Yeah,” Mal agreed as if she’d known, but she hadn’t. Between cotillion prep, being at Ben’s side for royal duties, school, and her interpersonal problems, she’d neglected everything going on in Jay’s life.

‘We’ll hang out soon and catch up,’ Mal told herself to stave off the guilt of her tunnel vision. ‘They’ve got R.O.A.R. team finals coming up. I’ll go support him.’

Next spoke the person Mal found herself wanting to look at the least.

“You kids have become so important to all of us,” came the low, soft voice of Cinderella. “It really warms my heart seeing you find where you belong. Moving through this world isn’t easy, and I can tell you’ve worked so hard. Mal, I’m proud of you.”

Everyone was nice to Mal. They showered her with attention and gifts. But Cinderella — she was so genuinely kind that it hurt. Mal wanted away from it before she broke down.

“Thanks,” she grit out before slowly finishing her lukewarm leaf water.

Belle touched her arm. “Who is your friend Carlos taking?”

Mal’s eye twitched, and she choked down her tea. “Sorry—” She cleared her voice “—there were still some tea leaves. He’s not going with anyone.”

Thanks to her, but Mal would argue Jane did plenty of damage to that possibility too.

When she saw several faces fall in pity, Mal quickly realized her error. In Auradon’s culture, pairing off boy-girl was expected. It’s part of what made their stories so legendary. And there she’d gone, throwing Carlos under the bus to be pitied and looked down on. She could still see him standing in that darkened green house, sweaty from his duel, and confessing his fears about how people looked down on him.

She couldn’t have that. So, Mal pushed someone else into the figurative street. “I mean, Jane asked him out.” Mal proceeded to back that bus right over her. “She asked him after R.O.A.R. practice, and he said he wasn’t that into cotillion. He’s just going to support me.”

The pity turned from Carlos to Jane as women said, “Poor dear” and “At least she tried.” Mal used an impressive amount of self-control to not grin maliciously.

The hour struck, and maids began picking up plates sticky with jam and scones. Mal pushed her half eaten sandwich away so they’d take it too. With lunch at its end, everyone rose to resume preparing for cotillion. Mal stood as well, relieved to be one scheduled meeting closer to the end of her day.

“Mal?” Belle’s soft voice interrupted.

She blinked, immediately recognizing the “let’s talk about something sensitive and possibly wrong with you” tone that the Fairy Godmother sometimes used. When Belle took both of her hands, she knew she’d done something wrong.

She smiled with her weirdly perfect teeth, not even a touch yellowed from all of the tea she drank. “Are you nervous?”

“Everything is moving so fast,” Mal confessed, matching her smile to Belle’s. “I’m just so flattered how — excited everyone is about me becoming a Lady.”

Her smile brightened, making Mal blink just to withstand its glaring whiteness. “I’m so glad to hear that. I have a surprise for you.”

Her happiness made her almost glow, or maybe it was just the sun coming through the window and hitting her yellow dress. Whichever it was strained Mal’s eyes.

“I’m just so happy whenever I think about you moving in and getting to see you every day.” She squeezed Mal’s hands and heart.

“Really?” Mal asked, voice high and hopeful. Maleficent never seemed to care about seeing Mal.

“Of course! That’s why I’ve already worked on a little surprise for you.” Belle led the way, glancing back with eyes that crinkled when she smiled.

Mal followed after her and wondered what surprise could be in store that Ben hadn’t already presented to her. ‘Maybe this is where Ben gets his gift-giving fetish from.’

After traversing up a carpeted set of stairs and deeper into the East Wing, Belle stopped before a door adorned with wood carvings of leafy vines, swooping birds, and in the middle, Mal’s twin dragon heart emblem. With a turn of the golden knob, a bedroom opened to her.

A hand at Mal’s back ushered her in. “I had so much fun making this for you!”

Stepping inside, Mal’s translucent pink heels sank into thick, creamy yellow carpeting, stretching to walls of white wood and wallpaper with lilac roses. The four poster bed, the gauzy canopy draped over it, and the chaise lounge were colored in matching shades of pastel blue.

“The fireplace—” Belle nearly skipped over to show off the marble fixture “—is electric! I love the smell of crackling wood, but nothing beats that kind of convenience on a cold night.”

“Oh. Cool!” Mal didn’t know why downgrading a fireplace into a glorified radiator was anything to boast about.

“And over here, we have my favorite part.” Belle took her hand and dragged her to a corner with two massive bookcases painted robin’s egg blue and wider than she was tall, heels included. “Your own, personal library! I took the liberty of filling it with some of my favorite books. I wrote notes in all of them for you.”

“Aww that’s so—” Mal distractedly ran her hands over the stuffed armchair dotted with a hand sewn crown pattern “—sweet of you!”

Mal had no idea when she’d given the impression she enjoyed reading. One of her most commonly “abused” spells had been speed reading.

Belle pulled a large, thin book from a shelf from of similar books and started leafing through pages with color illustrations. “I hope you don’t mind, but I included a few that Ben loved as a baby.”

Thankfully, fond memories distracted the older woman from noticing the mildly disgusted look on Mal’s face.

With bile souring her tongue, Mal realized Belle must be picturing her seated in a canary yellow nursery, rocking a newborn and contentedly smiling while reading that very book in her hands.

The children’s book returned to its shelf with the others as hazel eyes watery with emotion looked at Mal. “You and Ben are going to be such amazing parents some day.”

The blonde-haired girl smiled too brightly, performed all of the humble, happy body language she could think of, and internally screamed.

The idea of being a mother terrified her. If the East Wing hadn’t been so warm, Mal would have broken out in a cold sweat. She hated the idea of something growing inside her, changing her body forever. On the Isle, there had been horror stories about giving birth. They were bloody, agonizing hours that sometimes ended in death. This was one reason why most VKs had no siblings.

And that was all before actually raising the child. After all this time dating Ben and being showered by his endless affection, Mal still didn’t know what love looked like. There was no way she could love a child in the way they needed. Whatever kids she had with Ben, they would adore their father and go to therapy because of their mother.

“This is all so much,” Mal said, brittle but smiling. Her hand rubbed the back of her neck as she faked humility by looking away at the window seat stuffed with lilac pillows.

Technically, it was a fuckton, because who presumes someone is having kids? Then Mal called herself an idiot for forgetting that’s exactly what royalty expects because of the bloodline and lineage.

“I made sure to include lilac,” Belle says, gesturing at the heaps of tiny pillows on the window seat. “We know it’s your favorite.”

It wasn’t.

“It is!” Mal exclaimed stiltedly. “Oh wow! I can’t wait to move in!” She pretended to look at her watch when she was actually just tapping the glass face. “Well, I gotta get going. Lots to do!”

With a drawn out goodbye and two hugs too many, Mal was finally out the door and on her way to her next cotillion planning meeting with Jane — until she took the servant stairs down to the hot, starchy-smelling laundry area. She rushed by without notice and out the servants’ exit into fresh air.

Unevenly stomping through the gravel, Mal walked the perimeter until she arrived at the garage, where the current valet sat around, playing a game on his phone.

“You.” Mal took satisfaction watching him jump, quickly pocketing his cell. “Drive me back to Auradon Prep.”

The young chauffeur jumped to his feet and nearly ran to open a limousine door for her. She settled into her seat and had the divider rolled up for privacy before they’d even left the fifteen car garage. Agitation prickled across her skin, making her arms protectively cross over her stomach.

This wasn’t at all what Ben said it would be. This wasn’t one step at a time, together. Engagement didn’t mean him going down on one knee and her saying yes. Mal blamed Ben for acting so naively. If he’d just acknowledged the reality, then maybe she could have some control over everything that happened. Because yes, she wanted this, she wanted to be the High Queen of the United Kingdoms of Auradon, but where was her control? Queens weren’t puppets, and she was absolutely a queen. She’d always been in charge, in control, and—

—and green sparks crackled at her fingertips again.

‘No no no!’ Her fists clenched to smother the magic. ‘I need to calm down.’ She breathed deeply and knew where to go, even if she wasn’t currently welcomed.

With a flat thanks to the chauffeur who dropped her off, Mal entered the dorms and went to the boys’ wing, second floor.

She knocked on the door without an ounce of shame.

“Go away.”

Taking that as an Isle greeting, Mal let herself inside.

“…Wow.”

Carlos, hair swept back like it had been after his duel with Ben, bent over a thrumming sewing machine. He quickly removed pin after pin that kept the fabric in place while guiding it through the pulsing needle. He worse a distressed sweater over a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His shoulders were tense, and she could see his thick eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

‘Kinda hot.’ Really hot.

When his dark brown eyes looked up at her, she briefly wondered if he’d somehow gotten more pissed at her since yesterday. Then he stopped the sewing machine and straightened up.

“Did you know Lonnie’s dress was finished?”

‘Oh my gosh yes, he’s in a bitchy mood and not at me.’ This was exactly what Mal needed to unwind.

“Really?” she prompted, leaning against the footboard to his bed.

“Until she got the bright idea to go to Evie two nights before cotillion with the revelation that she wanted a pantsuit instead!” Both hands slammed on the table. “Don’t get me wrong. One of the actually good things my mom taught me is clothes don’t have a gender. I love Lonnie’s idea but not fucking two nights before cotillion!”

Her heart rate was already going down listening to him. “No way.”

He waved his arm. “Evie came to me for help, because Lonnie thinks that making pants is just cutting a line down the middle of a skirt. Sure, if you want it riding up your ass!”

Mal breathed easy watching him check how much thread was left on the spool. Her violet dress, hidden under a clear plastic cover, hung from where the hanger hooked onto the top of the book case.

“It just pisses me off how people discredit fashion labor,” Carlos seethed. “That’s why all of the Auradon kids are taking advantage of Evie not charging for additional tailoring. This is the one time I’d side with my mother in telling them to cough up the money then don’t talk to her, because they’ll get it two hours before showtime!”

Mal smiled knowingly at him. “How long until Lonnie’s outfit is done?”

“…A few hours,” Carlos grumbled, deflating from his outburst. “But you know, Lonnie has real way of putting her foot in her mouth.”

“Yeah,” Mal mumbled. The taller girl’s comment about being excited over her and Ben’s assumed nuptials still rang in her ears.

“Because there’s also design work that needs done, then I’ve pretty much gutted the outfit to turn this into a jumpsuit — I know she said pantsuit, but trust me, I know what I’m doing. If she doesn’t like it, too bad, because I’m not taking any else’s opinion at this point.”

He grabbed an open sketchbook and unthinkingly moved into Mal’s space to show her a roughly sketched outfit. “Evie and I designed this together. To make it worthy of the Royal Cotillion, I added the skirt only at the back to frame her legs.”

His finger traced down the line of the leg. “Lonnie has great legs, and that means I have to be careful tailoring the pants, or else they’ll rip when she does a high kick or splits. It’s gonna happen.”

The sparking feeling at her fingertips had died without her even noticing. Without a care, she confessed, “I love seeing you so worked up over fashion.”

Suddenly, Carlos’s agitation and passion melted into slowly dawning realization of who he was talking to. The sketchbook flipped shut, and Carlos walked away from her and returned to his seat on the other side of the table. Mal watched him turn the sewing machine back on and continue working as if she wasn’t there.

‘Come back,’ she nearly said. ‘I need my friend.’

“Belle said she wants my cotillion dress displayed next to hers in the museum,” she said, hoping he’d bite.

Without looking up from the fabric and needle, he flatly muttered, “Her dress will look off the rack next to yours.”

Mal’s brain worked to keep him engaged. “She also showed me my future bedroom today, where I’m moving after graduation.”

“Congrats.” He couldn’t have said it more insincerely.

She walked over to the table and stood opposite of him. Her blue cotillion gloves laid near his elbow, where she supposed he’d dropped them and wouldn’t touch them again until tomorrow.

“My room sucks.”

The sewing machine clicked off. “And you came to me for sympathy?” he asked, voice blatantly disbelieving.

Ouch, and admittedly Mal knew she’d earned it considering her choosing Ben put her in this position.

Her fingers gripped the table’s edge. “No, I came here to bitch about it! Seriously, Carlos! The bed has all of these annoying little pillows that I’ll have to remove and put back every day. Why put all of these unusable pillows on my bed and make them my problem?”

“People in Auradon take pillows for granted,” Carlos muttered darkly.

“Same with the window seat! And the fireplace is electric, because it’s ‘convenient.’ I’m going to be royalty! What do you mean I can’t have a servant just make a fire for me?!”

Carlos thoughtfully looked down at where his hands still rested on the fabric. “Mom used say something about the royalty not being that rich anymore.”

Mal continued ranting, “And the furniture is this gross shade of pastel blue, and Belle was like, ‘We added lilac, because I know it’s your favorite.’ When have I ever chosen to wear lilac? And why am I cool with lavender but not lilac?”

“You just said it.” Carlos looked up at her. “Lavender is cool, and lilac has pink in it.”

“And then she put a mini-library in my room, because she just assumed I’d be like her and love reading in all the free time I don’t have. And you know what she included?” Mal leaned forward, looking him dead in the eye. “Baby books. The ones Ben liked.”

Carlos stared, disgusted. “What, does she expect you to read those to Ben?” He spat the other boy’s name.

Pressing her lips together, Mal shook her head.

“The bed is yellow, the stupid pillows are yellow, and the organza canopy is yellow,” she started, her voice escalating into, “And Belle is under the impression I’ll be able to get wet and pregnant under those conditions!”

Silence punctuated her statement. Shakily, he pushed himself up to go over to the mini-fridge he and Jay kept in the room. He grabbed a sour watermelon-flavored energy drink and didn’t respond until after taking a sip.

“Okay.” He took another sip, his mind trying to return after being sent by Mal’s declarations. “Maybe they expect you guys to — do it — in his room.”

Mal walked closer to Carlos and propped an aggravated hand on her hip. “Well that sure as hell isn’t happening either, because he has portraits of his parents.”

“What the—?”

“OVER HIS BED!”

They held each other’s gazes before looking away simultaneously. Mal felt weirdly light-headed. She may not understand love, but on some primal level, down to her fairy genes, she understood physicality. She wanted sex uncolored by anyone’s expectations or family portraits. Barely, her head turned to observe Carlos from the corner of her eye.

He was looking pensively at her violet dress.

She snatched the can from him, causing him to snap his attention back to her. One-handedly, Mal undid her chignon and tossed her hair then tipped her head back to drink. The flavor puckered her tastebuds while she watched his awed expression through her eyelashes.

Then she was placing the can back into his frozen hand.

‘I got you back where I want you.’

He couldn’t hate her or run from her. She wouldn’t let him.

“There’s just so much I hate about that room. It’s got this boring rose patterned wallpaper. And that carpet is hideous. It’s like a hydrated piss yellow.”

Carlos snorted, his lips twitching into a smile he suppressed long enough to say, “Belle pissed on it herself—”

Then he was laughing, and Mal burst out laughing with him. Not one to waste an opportunity, Mal fell against him and held on as if for support as they laughed to tears. She squeezed him as the image of Queen Belle squatting over the carpet made her laugh harder, until she wheezed.

When they could finally catch their breaths, Mal straightened up but kept her arms looped around his waist. She felt his arm wrapped around her back, his hand at her rib cage.

She loudly sighed, feeling the best she had in a while. Carlos stiffened self-consciously, and she carefully, quickly considered her next move keep in on her strings.

“You said my gloves will be ready day of cotillion.”

“I did.” He seemed uncertain of where she was taking this.

Good. “Drop them off tomorrow morning in my room.” She untangled herself from him and headed toward the door.

“You could just take them with you now.”

The best way to keep him would be to keep him coming back.

“I can’t.” Hand on the door, she turned back and rounded her eyes in mock innocence. “They don’t fit.”

With one wicked wink, she was the one closing the door on him.

Evie clutched the fabric of her skirt so tightly that her nails pressed through them and into her palms. Her heart thundered in her chest. Sunlight filtered through the rose glass window behind the desk, making the figure at it difficult to look at. Her skin felt misty, but she refrained from reaching for the powder kit stowed in her purse. This had all been a spur of the moment decision. They’d expended all options but one.

The computer keys tapped on her fraying nerves.

She wished Ben would get here.

“When did these horns first show up?” The older woman’s eyes cringed, but her polite smile never wavered.

‘I’m making the right choice,’ she reassured herself for not even the tenth time.

“A little while ago,” she vaguely answered, not wanting to admit just how long she’d been hiding this. Evie didn’t want to appear duplicitous to the Headmistress.

“Did you eat anything given to you by a villain?” Fairy Godmother probed, her tone too innocent. “Or perhaps you touched a cursed object?”

Her questions didn’t make sense. The villains were on the Isle, and all magical items were in the museum. Evie suddenly worried the older woman was fishing for something or trying to get her to reveal something. But her mind felt muddled, making the subtext difficult to navigate.

‘Is she trying to ask if one of the VKs did this to me? Does she know the museum was broken into and thinks it was me?’

Her teeth thoughtlessly chewed at a corner of her lip. Each time Evie caught herself doing that, she’d chide herself. ‘It’ll make your face puffy and put lipstick on your teeth.’

“No.” When the older woman inclined her head toward Evie expectantly, she added, “I think it’s genetic.”

The blue-haired girl caught her own tongue from saying that’s what her mother told her. As far as the Headmistress needed to know, her mother didn’t know about this. That meant she never snuck off to the Isle and neither did anyone else.

“And why would you think that?” the Fairy Godmother asked, eyes flickering between Evie’s face and the horns.

Ben had responded to her text almost ten minutes ago. While the Fairy Godmother made a call for her wand to be delivered to her office, Evie had texted him.

Headmistress’ office. I need you.

The seconds dragged into minutes of waiting for his reply.

“Just, um, something my mom said one time, about someone in her family having horns.” Evie’s throat felt dry.

“Who exactly was it?” Her voice sounded like snickerdoodle cookies straight from the oven.

“I—I don’t know. Maybe an aunt on her father’s side?”

Typing followed.

“And does anyone know about—” her voice dropped, as if to be sensitive “—the horns?”

Evie’s fingers ran over the black sunhat on her lap. She thought of an open-hearted boy who promised to keep her secret. She remembered him sneaking with her into the museum, fighting a pirate, punching a Shrieking Eel, and carrying her to safety. Ben, who said maybe he was ready to accept these horns and new revelations about Evie, knew all of her secrets — except one.

Maybe that wasn’t an okay thing to say to the Fairy Godmother about the King of Auradon.

“There is.”

“And that is—?”

Her mouth felt dry. “Ben.”

The Fairy Godmother’s fingers hesitated over the keyboard as she processed before smiling in understanding. “Oh, you told the king!” She started typing again. “While it’s very good of you, dear, to report this to the king, you ought to tell me first, and I’ll notify anyone who needs to know.”

The woman’s statement confused Evie. “No, I told him as a friend.”

‘Wait.’ Now she knew what struck her as so off.

“Who needs to know?”

Her voice was drowned out by the office door abruptly opening. The Fairy Godmother exclaimed in surprise, and Evie twisted around, scared of who might be seeing her, horns exposed. The face looking back at her was Ben’s, nose pink from exertion.

‘Did he run?’

As he quickly shut the door so no one might see inside, the Fairy Godmother primly said, “Your Majesty, it’s inappropriate to just barge in without knocking. Respect is a vir—”

“What’s going on?” Ben breathlessly interrupted, taking long strides across the wood floor and around the two chairs facing the desk. He took Evie’s hand. “Why are you here?”

“I—” Evie’s voice withered in her throat when his blue eyes brimmed with worry for her “— cotillion is tomorrow.” The last words barely squeezed out, her fading voice pleading, “I need help.”

Slowly, Ben sank into the chair next to her without looking away from her face, paler than usual. His hands hadn’t let her’s go.

Evie hadn’t felt like such a wretch since the worst of the horrible days of being confined to the Castle Across the Way. All of their adventures and plans led to answers but no solutions. She wanted her dream life back. Being on the red carpet, telling the world about the Four Heart’s Boutique, could set her on the fast track to being a major fashion house. She’d be able to afford her own home and provide for not just herself but everyone she loved. Carlos would stay with her when he was on break from university. Jay, wherever he went, would know he always had a home with her. Even Mal could run to her when the royal life became too much, and they could have one big sleepover.

A knock summoned Fairy Godmother hastily out of her chair and to the door, which she cracked open. The headmistress discreetly thanked the person on the other side and closed the door.

“Evie,” Ben spoke quietly, “What’s going on?”

Blinking back a tear, she whispered, “I want my future back.”

The Fairy Godmother returned to them with a long case she then set on her desk and opened to reveal her silvery wand. “Here we are!” The woman gave it a few experimental flicks, peppering the air with silver sparkles.

“Have no worries. I’ve done the exact same spell on fauns before,” the Fairy Godmother said as if she was about to give a child a flu shot.

Ben’s head snapped to look at her. “To get rid of her horns?”

“Precisely!”

Evie’s hand tightly gripped his, and he squeezed back. She nearly asked if it would hurt, but cowering wasn’t her style. Instead, Evie straightened her back and lifted her chin.

“Why were you doing this spell on fauns?” Ben asked, his tone borderline demanding.

“A story for another time, dear,” the Fairy Godmother said without breaking her smile before turning her attention back to Evie. “You’ll just feel a little bit of discomfort and a popping sound as those pesky horns disappear.”

“Now,” her wand raised “—Bibbidi—” Swish “—bobbidi--” Flick “—Boo!”

The first sparkle of shimmery silver magic to touch the black horns erupted into a crackle of blue lightning. Every spark followed suit. The Fairy Godmother, screaming, dropped to the ground. The desk lamp and electric chandelier exploded in a shower of sparks. Ben dove for Evie’s chair, where he pulled her into his arms.

Evie screamed, an electric pain radiating from the tips of her horns and into her skull. She clutched his blazer as the glass cabinets and picture frames shattered. A burnt smell filled her lungs. She desperately hoped it wasn’t her hair. When the blue lightning died down to surging sparks from Evie’s horns, she dared to open her eyes.

A haze of smoke filled the destroyed office. Even the rose glass window was no more than colored glass scattered across the office. Evie could barely see it all. The pain dissipated, and she slowly blinked everything back into focus. That’s when she realized she was in Ben’s arms with his body protectively thrown over hers. There was nothing he could have done against lightning, to stop the magic, but he was there to protect her.

‘I wish—’ Her shoulders shook, because the thought hurt before she’d even finished it ‘—that I could go back and re-do our first meeting. I wish I hadn’t tried so hard to impress you. I wish I hadn’t wilted when Audrey said I wasn’t a princess.’

As if any of that would’ve kept Ben from falling for Mal.

Ben lifted his face from where he’d hidden against her neck. Breathing shakily, he straightened up from where he’d knelt onto her chair and examined her for injury.

“Are you okay? Evie?”

She hummed, finding her voice. “I’m okay.”

From around him, she noticed the Fairy Godmother awkwardly climbing to her feet while using her desk for support. When she turned around to look at Evie, her apprehensive expression said everything the younger woman had feared.

“You—oh my—” The headmistress clutched at her desk and crunched glass under her feet as she stumbled back to her desk chair. She jerked open a drawer and pulled out a glass flask. After taking a swig of the clear liquid inside, she waved her wand again.

“Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!”

The broken pieces of her office began floating back into their proper places. Evie would have marveled at the beauty of destruction being undone but not when she’d been the cause of it all. These horns were hers, marking her as a descendant of evil.

With a satisfied hum, the Fairy Godmother seated herself and experimentally tapped her laptop keyboard. Then, rapid typing ensued.

Ben stood, sharply turning to face her. “What are you doing?”

“Just documenting this in a report,” she replied simply, her smile too brittle to last.

“What report?” He turned turned at the waist to look at Evie. “Did you give her permission to make a report?”

“Mm-mm.” Evie shook her head without looking at anyone. Horror rolled over her at what she’d done. Of course the Fairy Godmother would document what a danger she was.

Ben approached the edge of the desk. “And who are you reporting to? I’m right here.” His voice rose as he became progressively angrier.

“Your father the king has commanded—”

“HE IS NOT THE KING!”

In a snap, Evie forgot her horns. She watched Ben in shock. He’d told her about losing his temper before, with Mal and his parents, but she’d never pictured it looking like this.

The Fairy Godmother leaned back in her chair, her expression alarmed as he continued, “There is one King of Auradon! And everyone who works for my father but not me betrays their king!”

The destruction of the office hadn’t been so explosive, but she wasn’t scared.

He pointed back at her without tearing his eyes from the Fairy Godmother. “And you owe an apology to Evie. You didn’t even check on her before you were fixing your office!” he raged, the desk cracking from his grip.

The headmistress looked at Evie. “I-I’m so sorry, dear, you looked fine,” the Fairy Godmother sputtered, forcing a benevolent smile to not appear scared. “Y-your horns must be very magically p-powerful to have repelled my spell.”

The Fairy Godmother went “ahem!” to clear her voice and sat up straighter in her chair. “If we cannot remove them magically, then perhaps we can try another route. We’ve had some magical folk opt for non-magical procedures to rid themselves of their magical appendages.”

The dried fairy wings in that cold basement passed through her mind. Her mother’s words about mutilating her rang in her head with each throb of her building headache. Evie’s hands covered her face, trying to hide from it, to comfort herself as tears finally started pouring through her fingers.

“Get out.”

Ben’s tone was a threat.

When the Fairy Godmother tried speaking again, he swiftly cut her off, raising his voice. “GET OUT!”

The repaired glass trembled. Evie heard thick heels clop-clop-clopping rapidly across the floor before the door opened and closed all in quick succession. Alone with each other, the tension melted in one word, her name.

“Evie…”

The sobbing started, choking up and out of her throat as she slid out of the chair and onto the rug. Thick tears caught in her eyelashes and dripped off her cheeks. Her make-up was ruined as she pointlessly smeared her tears across her cheeks in an attempt to stop them. She’d be a freak for the rest of her life. She’d had a short few months out of her home on the Isle, a short couple of years in Auradon, and that was all the life she’d be allowed to enjoy. Evie wondered why she always had to be trapped. This was the sort of suffering fit for a princess with a handsome prince waiting for her at the end of all this.

Ben wasted no time joining her on the floor and pulled her to his side. One arm stayed wrapped around her waist, and the other gently guided her head to his shoulder. Her arms went under his blazer and buried themselves between his linen shirt and the silk lining.

“I want to be normal!” she cried, her voice barely there. “I want to be an Auradon girl!”

Ben’s arms tightened around her waist and shoulders. “I like you the way you are.” He rocked her slightly. “I hate seeing you so sad.”

“I want to be me again,” she whimpered. “I don’t want to hide anymore.”

He rubbed her back, letting Evie sniffle and breath until the worst of her misery settled down.

A memory came to mind of an old habit she’d taken to self-comfort herself during exile. Able to breath evenly, Evie slowly pulled away from Ben and grabbed her purse. She extricated her brush and began fixing her hair. The bristles slowly dragged along her scalp. To her deep relief, none of her hair had been damaged by the outburst of magic. Putting the brush back, she grabbed her compact mirror and one of the lipsticks gifted to her.

Ben watched her, waiting until she finished reapplying before saying, “I think you should still go to cotillion.” He took both of her hands. “We can make this the new normal.”

A shiver that started in her hands ran straight up her spine. “But — I just don’t know if people will accept it.” She quietly hiccuped from all of the crying. “You heard what my mother said.”

“I’ve thought about what your mother said every day,” Ben revealed. “But you want to go to the Royal Cotillion, and I want you there. We’ll do it.” His voice softened. “I’ll be right by your side—and so will the other VKs.”

Evie’s heart swelled with gratitude. She couldn’t have cried all over again. Instead, she fell against him in another hug, her head tucking under his chin. If she hadn’t been vulnerable, she might not have said it.

“Mal’s so lucky.”

A beat passed. Maybe it was too much. Then inch by inch, his arms wrapped around her once more.

Something was off in his voice, she thought, when he muttered, “Thanks.”

Cotillion was tonight.

R.O.A.R. practice hadn’t exactly been productive. Carlos knew it would be short, but he didn’t know he’d be gearing up only for Jay to announce Lonnie as the new team captain. Carlos couldn’t bring himself ruin her moment by mentioning that wasn’t equality for girls so much as equality for Lonnie.

‘Just let her have her moment,’ he’d decided before Lonnie dismissed them to get ready for cotillion.

So, he grabbed Mal’s gloves and headed toward the girls’ dorms, where the atmosphere was vastly different from the boys’. Most of the doors were open as the girls excitedly began readying for a party hours away. After living with his mother and seeing the behind-the-scenes of her Isle fashion shows, he understood why.

He passed one room smelling so intensely of nail polish remover that he could taste it. The girls inside were trying to clean it up.

He passed another open door and saw Rachael sitting in front of one mirror with another behind her. Her long hair spilled over the floor as her fingers deftly worked an intricate braid. Carlos paused in her doorway, drawn in by her silent intensity. But, he also knew she’d probably dislike the interruption as much as he did when working on fashion.

Continuing, he had to stop as one girl darted in front of him and into another dorm to show off the jewels her family sent for her to wear. Another room had two girls eating salads for lunch with their elaborately styled hair clashed with their white terrycloth robes.

He passed through several clouds of experimentally sprayed perfumes before his destination. The door was opened just enough to look inside.

There was Mal, donning one of her day dresses and a pair of brown gloves. Her mother’s tank sat empty of all contents. Her nose scrunched as she wiped the dirty, browned corners of the glass with a cleaning clothe.

He softly double-tapped. Mal’s head snapped up to stare at him.

“Hey.”

He wondered if he imagined the hesitation. She knew he’d stop by. Carlos was fully aware she’d played him, but knowing and resisting weren’t the same.

“Hey,” she said, her voice too high.

He stepped inside but kept the door cracked open. Nerves set him on edge being back in her room. Carlos knew he was such a fool for Mal that he almost couldn’t trust himself.

Her elbow waved toward a fish bowl that held a tiny lizard. “I’m cleaning Mom’s tank.”

He nodded. “It’s a good time to do it.” They both knew this was the weirdest way for Mal to spend her afternoon before the Royal Cotillion. “I brought your gloves. For the big night ahead.” He approached the table and set her blue gloves on it. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

The clothe ran over the glass with none of the vigor required to clean it well. “I guess. I’m just—” she sighed “—a lot of things right now.”

Carlos supposed she was nervous, but he didn’t know what else could be bothering her. Assuming he weighed on her mind felt presumptuous considering she was about to be Lady of the Court.

“Like?”

She dropped the clothe inside the tank. “Like I’m not enough of an Auradon girl for this. That I’ll never be good enough and that I’ll always be hiding my bad parts.”

Carlos could see where this was going. He’d stepped off this carousel when Mal handed in her spellbook, but the gate was reopening, and he was stepping back on for another ride.

Voice lowering, he said, “I still mean everything I told you. I want you to be yourself, magic and everything.”

A bitter laugh punctuated her throwing her cleaning gloves onto the tank’s edge. “You really mean that after all of the lying? After I asked you to be my ‘stylist?’”

“Not your finer moments,” he said, serious without being mean. “But trouble is part of the deal with you. You’re only lying because you’re hiding. I—”

His hand moved closer to hers.

“—I don’t want you to hide who you are.”

She looked down at the inches separating their hands.

“Be mean, be messy, be whatever. Just be honest. Unless—” he grinned despite himself “—unless you’re lying for fun.”

Carlos never saw himself as a bad person. Even the villains saw him as a good person (not a compliment). At best on the Isle, he’d been called one of Mal’s lackeys. But now, he was bad for her. Under the right conditions, he might do all the wrong things for her. Carlos thought of his mother’s head henchman, Jasper, who would be the first to defend her actions and the one whose objections meant the most to her.

Mal leaned one hand onto the table while the other wrapped around his, one finger at a time. The way she looked at his hand had his heart leaping into his throat.

The door threw open, killing the moment. She stood straight and glowered at the person interrupting, who happened to be a red-faced Jane.

Carlos could almost hear Mal’s face creak as she forced a smile. “Oh hey, Jane!”

“Mal, I’m so sorry!”

Her expression was less of a smile and more like bared teeth. “Why?” Her voice went too high. Carlos could see her short fuse burning.

“R-remember how we were supposed to have a meeting yesterday? A-and you didn’t show up?”

Mal hummed, “Mm-hm” with an impressive amount of impatient condescension.

“W-well I needed to tell you that Ben is giving you a gift—”

“Yeah, that’s nothing new,” Mal cut in, barely moving her jaw.

“W-well y-you were s-supposed to give a gift to the guests.” Jane’s eyes welled with tears.

Giant monsters destroying cities moved with less fury, less destructive force than Mal when she stomped across her room, seized Jane by the pink bow around her neck, and dragged her inside before slamming the door.

The younger girl stumbled into the writing desk. Carlos barely touched her shoulder to steady her when the fish bowl with Maleficent wobbled toward the edge. His hands snapped out, pulling the bowl safely into his arms.

“You’re okay,” he reassured the lizard without thinking about who it really was.

Mal stalked toward Jane and let her whole mask slip. “How the hell am I supposed to pull this one out of my ass, Jane?!”

“I—I—”

“I’m going to look like an idiot! This whole time you’re bugging me about colors for napkins, banners, and other useless shit! The whole point of having a planner is to take some of this off my plate and talk to me about the actually important stuff!”

Carlos realized he may need to explain to Mal he liked it when she was mean to people her own size. Setting Maleficent’s fish bowl aside, he turned Jane to face him and comfortingly rubbed her upper arms. Her lips twitched in a grateful, watery smile up at him.

He looked at Mal. “You’re the cleverest person I know, so use your head instead of punching down.”

Mal huffed then proceeded to pace around her room. She reminded him of his childhood cat, Beelzy, throwing a kitty tantrum. Then he watched her eyes lock onto him and Jane. Specifically, she stared right where his hand rested above Jane’s elbow. Her green eyes glittered.

“Jane,” she started, so calm that her heel-turn only seemed to alarm Jane more. “Call the local orchard and ask them to send over their best, reddest apples.” Mal smiled in a manner that showed her top row of teeth. “We’ll make candied apples.”

The brown-haired girl de-puffed from her frightened state as she perceived to be out of danger. She nearly laughed as she breathed in relief. “That—that’s a great idea! I’ll do that right now!”

Mal sauntered over to the two of them and swatted Carlos’ hand off of her. “And Jane? Sorry about going a little crazy just now.” She laughed, the sound high in her throat. “All these nerves, you know?”

“Oh, totally!” Jane nodded emphatically. “I would be freaking out too. I mean I’m already freaking out, but—”

“And I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Mal looped her arm through Jane’s. “I love that new Dalmatian print throw blanket on your bed. Super cute!”

Big, blue eyes glanced up at him. Carlos didn’t know what she read in his expression. Not long ago, he’d have told her he liked Dalmatian print too and flaked from taking his chance to say a shared love of patterns was a great first step toward being dates.

Looking at Jane now, so pretty that even crying brought out her adorable features, Carlos felt nothing but concern for a friend.

“Good taste.” He half-smiled encouragingly. “That print would go with most of your outfits.”

She brightened, shyly tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Really? Thanks! I love Dalmatians. I’ve loved them ever since met Per—uh—” Her jaw fell open, freezing to stop her faux pas.

Carlos’ hand dropped from Jane’s other arm.

His mother had been a cut throat business woman. Her practices made plenty of enemies. If anyone failed to invite her to a gala or fashion week, she’d crash it and make the whole party about herself. Fashion houses accused her of sabotaging their collections. But, it was the 101 Dalmatians situation that King Beast and his cohorts used to imprison her on the Isle. His mother told him that’s why both of them wore Dalmatian print, in defiance.

When he got to Auradon, he’d quickly stopped wearing the print, but everyone still associated him with it. Carlos vividly remembered the moment a Tourney jersey, nicely folded, was handed to him with a big 101 on the back.

That’s when Carlos learned what meanness looked like in Auradon.

Mal’s eyes flickered over his face, and then she pounced on Jane like a cat. “You met Perdita? Did you also meet Pongo, their owners, and their puppies?” she prodded. “Isn’t that crazy, Carlos? It’s almost as wild as your mom getting Isle time for attempted murder. Not really the same thing as actually murdering anyone.”

Her hip bumped Jane so she’d start walking toward the door with her. “Jane, you’re going to come get me when the apples get here, and I’m going to personally make the glaze. You’ll get servants to dip them, and tell them if anyone so much as licks the glaze, they’re fired.”

Jane stuttered agreement before throwing a sad look back at Carlos. He knew she was sorry. With a “woah!,” the brunette stumbled out the door Mal pushed her through.

Then they were back to just the two of them. A funny feeling washed over him as Mal observed him. Her protectiveness was so flattering that it made him smile despite his sadness.

Reaching into Maleficent’s fish bowl, he carefully held her up for a better view of Mal. “How can you not love that?”

She beamed at him, and his smile grew to match.

Malefilizard scratched at his hands, uncommonly bare due to being in his R.O.A.R. uniform.

“Fine, fine.” He carefully set her back inside her temporary tank. When he looked up, Mal stood right in front of him.

“Do you have a ride to cotillion?”

“Yeah.” He blinked, taken aback by how even prettier she was this close. “Jay, Lonnie, and I are going to a Northern Wei restaurant for dinner before heading over.”

“Wish I could join you, but there’s going to be a huge dinner at the castle first.” Mal diverted her gaze down to his throat, the neckline of his sleeveless R.O.A.R. hoodie, then back to his face. “Will you have my back tonight?”

He noticed how her lips were just barely parted from speaking.

“Of course. I’ll always have your back, Mal.”

She fell against him in a hug and his arms wrapped around her all at once. Her cheek pressed against his chest, and he lifted his chin so she could fit under it.

‘This is over when I move in to Hundred Acre University up north.’ His mood sobered. If he and Mal couldn’t end this situationship between them, then the distance would. 'Nothing lasts forever.'

Tiny claws on glass made him turn his neck to see Maleficent trying to escape.

Mal, peering around his shoulder at her mother’s tantrum, scoffed. “Stop it, mother. You’re less prepared for boy problems than I am. Ugh!” She rolled her eyes and returned her cheek to where it’d been.

Carlos knew they shouldn’t be lingering like this, but this would be all they got. After cotillion, he had the R.O.A.R. team finals then academic finals. A week after graduation, he’d be moving up north for the summer seminar. He wanted to waste no time starting his higher education.

‘I’ll miss you.’ His cheek pressed against the top of her head as he swayed back and forth.

Mal’s grip on him tightened, as if she knew he was already saying goodbye.

Chapter Text

Magnificent carriages lined up under the cloudless, velvet blue sky. They came round as pumpkins or so long they required another set of wheels in the center. Footmen and drivers wore fine uniforms representative of their passengers’ native kingdom. Horses, brushed and manes coiffed, stomped impatiently for their turn to drop off their noble passengers and leave the congested streets. In the back of one red painted carriage with gold dragon detailing, there was one person more impatient than anyone else.

Carlos sat on the cushioned bench and rested an elbow up on the open window. He wanted fresh air, but it came at the cost of perfumes and horse manure. He wished they’d taken a car, but carriages were traditional, and he wasn’t about to accuse Auradon royalty of being modern.

Except for when they turned fireplaces into glorified radiators. ‘No accounting for taste.’

His gaze turned from the row of carriages curling around the street to Jay and Lonnie, seated across from him. She held up her phone for Jay to better see.

“This is the official R.O.A.R. team for Northern Wei.” Lonnie’s nail pointed at something on her screen. “He retired after this last season. Mom told the head coach I’m team captain and first girl ever, so I’m guaranteed a chance to try out this summer.”

Something clicked in Carlos’ head. “So all of this — joining our team, pushing Jay out of the captain position — it was just a pre-requisite?”

“I didn’t push Jay out of the captain position,” Lonnie crossly retorted.

“You didn’t even come to try outs at the start of the school year,” Carlos continued to deduce, his mind racing as the puzzle pieces came together. “You didn’t care about joining us until you needed to meet a pre-req.”

“That’s not true!”

He crossed his arms, giving her a hard look. “You’re not a team player. No wonder you didn’t care that you didn’t actually change the rules so other girls can get on the team. Equality wasn’t your goal.”

If the carriage had allowed it, Lonnie would have stood to her full height. “You can get out right now!”

“Guys, guys, chill,” Jay said, moving to the edge of the bench seat.

“He started it!” Lonnie seethed, pointing accusatorially at him.

Honestly, her conniving to get what she wanted would have been impressive.

The problem was— “You Auradon kids think you’re so good that you could never be bad.”

Lonnie’s anger felt palpable in that small carriage as she defensively snapped, “NO, you VKs think everyone’s as bad as you are—”

“Is that why you’re always trying to hang out with us? Because deep down, you know you’re not some perfect person either?” Something terrible in Carlos, that same feeling he’d had when dueling Ben and surrounded by people who wanted him to lose, burned in his chest.

“So speaking of sports try-outs!” Jay loudly tried changing the topic, “Coach gave me a letter of recommendation to try out for the official Kingdom of Auradon teams. He said I should go for Tourney and R.O.A.R., make my chances better.”

Jay had made the right move, bringing her back to her favorite topic. “Seriously?! Oh my gosh! You’re definitely getting your pick of teams!” Lonnie wasted no time emphasizing what a team player she was with a big, excited grin. She playfully punched his arm. “But I’m not going easy on you if I see you on the court!”

Pissed, Carlos leaned his head into his hand and went back to staring outside while the other two chattered about sports. He wouldn’t have a problem with her tactics if it wasn’t the hypocrisy.

The carriage gave a jolt forward, and suddenly the crowd surrounding the docks became much louder. Camera flashes bounced off the carriage windows. One of the footman, dressed to match the carriage, appeared outside the door and opened it.

“Finally!” Lonnie cartwheeled out of the carriage, earning the crowd’s cheers and applause. Carlos saw attendants letting her know to move forward, farther along the red carpet so more people could arrive. Jay stepped out and gave a big smile before sauntering after her.

‘Showtime.’ Carlos stood, straightened his clothes, rolled his shoulders back, then took his first step onto the red carpet and the blinding lights of celebrity.

Flashing bulbs blinded him. Photographers lined the velvet rope stretching the long gauntlet from carriage drop off to the gangplank up to the ship. This place didn’t even resemble Belle Harbor.

The carriage moved on without him, and he fixed his expression to be as neutral as possible.

Down the way, he could see a woman with short hair waving Jay and Lonnie over for an interview in front of a TV camera. Of course the state-sponsored Auradon News Network would be airing arrivals live.

“Over here! This way!” photographers vied for his attention. Carlos tried his best to appear unbothered by the shouting and camera flashes.

Turning his head, he noticed a stretch carriage pull up. Girls he recognized from the cheer squad departed with their boyfriends. The boys’ tuxes looked almost copy-pasted from one to the next with only a change in colors to match their respective dates’ dress.

Then, he realized Jane wasn’t among them. Concern flashed through his mind, but he was trapped waiting as photographers snapped photos of him in front of a backdrop dotted with the royal insignia.

He gave in to standing there and moving incrementally so the photographers could get their shots. Beyond the press, Carlos realized the crowd extended farther than he could see. The common people had shown up too for a glimpse of them.

Carlos was grateful for his decision to ask Evie to do his make-up. She’d squealed at the chance to do a boy’s make-up, and he emphasized he only wanted something simple. Evie used a bronze eyeliner on him, contouring, and gave him a cinnamon roll-flavored chapstick. Boys in Auradon were so strange about make-up, but on the Isle, make-up didn’t have a gender. Carlos had thrown out his old eyeliner the moment he’d realized only girls wore make-up in Auradon.

But tonight, he could use a little armor.

One of the plain suited attendants ushering him forward, into the glare of box lights and cameras. Approaching the woman with the microphone, Carlos realized this wasn’t a nobody but Snow White.

‘Why is royalty working the Royal Cotillion? Are they that low in the pecking order? Is their kingdom that hard up for money?’

Before he could ponder further, he listened to her introduce him to the camera with her high-pitched, sing-song voice. “And here we have my favorite look from the boys yet! It’s so striking!”

He followed her hand as it daintily gestured at his cropped suit jacket then at the camera. The gleaming black eye stared into him, and Carlos became highly cognizant of all the eyes he could not see.

Moreover, he realized his mother was looking at him right now.

Cruella never missed a chance to watch the Auradon News Network if it meant ragging on who wore what. Fashion criticism was her only non-destructive hobby. He imagined she’d be having a watch party right now with everyone who lived at Hell Hall, the Evil Queen, and the Tremaines. He used to have to spend all day cleaning and making appetizers beforehand then did the clean-up.

Now he was the one on her TV. Carlos wished he didn’t want her approval so badly.

“The gold details are mesmerizing! Can you give us a spin?” Snow White asked, looking ready to twirl herself.

The idea mortified him, but he kept his expression neutral. “No.”

The older woman’s smile faltered. “Oh, well—” she perked herself up “—who’s the designer? Their work is marvelous!”

He stared at her then realized it had been over two decades since his mother and her designs revolutionized the fashion world. In that moment, the weight of having a place in her legacy struck him.

The camera lens stared at him. Evie had told him he’d never have to know his mother’s opinion, but he couldn’t escape that he was still a son who wanted his mother’s approval.

Snow White looked at him imploringly when he took his time answering. So, he said what actresses, actors, singers, models, and divorcees would say on the red carpet.

“It’s a De Vil.”

Snow White tilted her head, perhaps not understanding if he meant he made it or his mother.  If that was the case, she clearly didn’t understand Cruella’s style beyond the color palette.

Seeing his chance, Carlos curtly said, “Excuse me” and walked away.

He passed behind Lonnie and Jay as they posed for photos. Then Carlos walked past more dates and photographers and attendants, the last of whom really wanted him to quit barging into shots. Finally, he reached the gangplank, a carpeted ramp adorned with hanging lights reflecting brilliantly against the water. The True Love itself was a slice of white cake piped with blue and gold icing.

‘There you go, Mal. Maybe you and Ben can make royal babies on this thing.’

A waiter standing at the bottom offered a champagne flute filled with a pale, bubbling liquid. “Beverage, sir?”

Carlos accepted it then thought to ask, “What is it?”

“Sparkling grape juice—”

He was pushing the glass back into the waiter’s hand. “No thanks.”

Hearing more camera clicks, he ascended the ramp. The wood boards underfoot shined with an almost waxy finish. Making it to the main deck felt like an accomplishment. Thankfully, no cameras were allowed inside.

No wonder people came in pairs to this thing. He wished he had Evie to help steal some of the attention off of him. The media would eat up her style and grace. Speaking of, he searched the crowd, but no horns or blue hair stuck out.

“You’re still coming, right?” Carlos had asked her earlier while she carefully dragged the bronze eyeliner along his upper lash line. His eyes remained shut to avoiding twitching.

“Ben wants me to,” she’d quietly said, focused on not poking his eye.

“So do I.”

He heard her little hum as she smiled. A fluffy brush dusted highlighter on his cheekbones, nose, and cupid’s bow.

Softly, he reassured her, “Nothing bad will happen.”

The brush left his face. His eyes peaked open to see her frown.

“I hope not.”

The crowd was so big, and they’d sat in the carriage line for nearly an hour. Surely she’d be here by now. Carlos saw Lonnie and Jay heatedly talking by the port side railing. She gestured in his direction, and he realized he may have ruined Lonnie’s night by calling her out.

He sighed and pondered what to do. In loose terms, Lonnie was a friend. Jay, however, was his best friend. If Lonnie was going to be upset all night, that would affect Jay’s night. This was his first cotillion too.

‘And he’s really been there for me lately.’

Carlos crossed the deck, moving between group of people holding champagne flutes of sparkling grape juice, to reach them. “Lonnie.” When her hard gaze snapped to him, he wasted no time, “You’re my friend, and I really hope you make the Northern Wei team.”

Her arms tightly crossed, hunching her shoulders. “Even though I’m not a team player?”

He shrugged, hands in his pockets. “Yeah well, it’s not really a team sport anyway.”

Carlos didn’t want to make a liar of himself by taking back what he’d said, but playing it off worked. Her frown briefly resisted before melting into an easy smile, and her crossed arms relaxed.

“Thanks.” After a moment, she added, “And thanks for making me a whole new outfit. I really like it.”

“It looks great on you.”

Jay caught his eye, and the taller boy expressed his gratitude with a single look. Carlos nodded at him, and that’s all that needed said between them.

But Carlos had another friend who needed back-up too. “I’m helping Evie collect payments for all of the last minute work people requested. Since we reused the same fabric, you just have to pay for labor.”

The tall girl straightened up from leaning on the rail. Her mouth opened, and Carlos could almost see, “But I thought it was free” dangling from her tongue.

Instead, she gave a blunt, “Oh.”

“And we’re waiving late fees through Friday.” Evie never charged late fees, but Carlos wasn’t going to let their hard work be taken for granted.

Speaking of— “I’m going to see if I can find Evie.”

But he never got the chance. Trumpeters lining the grand staircase blared their horns in tune, silencing the glittering crowd. Every head turned upwards to the gilded gold arch, framed by stained glass mosaics depicting royal couples experiencing true love’s kiss. Taking small uncharacteristically small steps, Mal emerged, and all of Carlos’ agitation melted.

Of course she looked stunning. He’d made that dress, meeting the standards while also defying them. The dress was yellow, but under the white lights, it was strategically garish, daring people to stare too long. The lacework was blue but in an oversaturated hue that loudly popped against the yellow. The tulle around her ankles looked appropriately rough, though he knew it to actually be soft. The cape’s grayish-green color was an instinctive choice. Carlos wanted her to meet Auradon’s standards all while being as inharmonious as possible.

‘What do you think, Mom?’

Lumiere, stationed to Mal’s left, flourished his arm in a manner that swished his ruffled sleeve. “I present to you, the Lady of the Royal Court of Auradon, Lady Mal!”

‘Mal of the Isle,’ Carlos amended.

The announcement was her cue to descend the stairs, but she remained in place like a statue, staring down at the crowd who stared expectantly back. He suddenly remembered standing in the back of one of his mother’s Isle fashion shows. Arms full of high heels he had to distribute, he heard his mother tell a model who’d frozen during rehearsal that if she stopped on that runway, then she’d die on that runway.

“And those fools will think it’s part of the show and CLAP!”

And Mal was dying. Carlos elbowed Jay to get his attention and quickly made his way through the crowd without care for being polite. He earned one insulted look when his shoe accidentally kicked the skirt of a women’s dress. But he didn’t care where his feet went, because he could’ve sworn Mal was looking at him now. Spurred on by that thought, he pushed past the last few people in his way and heard Jay right behind him.

Then she was looking directly at him, and he’d never smiled so brightly at anyone in his life.

His hands clapped together as hard as they could, and Jay joined in, quick to yell, “Go Mal!” Their enthusiasm woke the crowd. A gentle roar of cheers rose up into the late spring night. Mal smiled down at them, no, just him.

She descended the blue carpeted staircase with happily crinkled eyes on him and Jay. He already knew she looked perfect, but a light-headed, happy feeling made him want to embrace her as soon as she reached them. Carlos wanted to tell her they’ve come so far together since their worst days on the Isle, and he never wanted to be away from her. Forcing himself to not talk to her after the Isle had been such agony that he’d thrown himself into cotillion orders.

Seeing her now, Carlos wondered if he was looking at the key to his future.

Then halfway down, their matching smiles died a slow death. King Beast intercepted her well before the last step, taking her hand and guiding Mal aside to speak with him and Belle.

Carlos’ hands fell back to his sides as he watched, unable to hear them as the crowd resumed speaking among themselves. Mal’s nervous smile and quietly desperate eyes sparked his anger once more.

‘Don’t grovel,’ he wanted to march over and tell her. ‘They don’t have anything we want.’

But he didn’t. Carlos stood there helplessly. Auradon held all the power over them. Now, they’d take Mal, and she’d become less and less of herself to fit their idea of a good person.

‘I miss your purple hair.’

The trumpets blared again, hurting his ears from being so close now. The double doors at the top of the stairs opened once more.

Now with both arms grandly gesturing, Lumiere announced, “I present His Majesty, The High King of Auradon!”

Ben stepped forward to the top of the stairs in a manner far more comfortable and familiar than Mal had. Carlos watched her drop into a curtsy, the sight alien and disconcerting. The crowd sank in a wave to kneel or curtsy before the king.

An elbow jabbed his leg.

“Carlos, wake up,” Jay hissed.

Reluctantly, Carlos knelt down so his knee pressed uncomfortably against the smooth, wood deck. He could hardly hide his distaste watching not Everyday Ben but the High King of United Kingdoms of Auradon descending the stairs. That’s when Carlos noticed that King Beast, who stood straight alongside his wife, distrustfully glaring at him.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming!” Ben called out upon taking Mal’s hands to raise her up alongside him. To Carlos’ relief, the crowd followed suit in standing up. His knee bore a stiff, red mark.

Cogsworth appeared, carrying a blue velvet pillow with gold trim. Atop sat a small, three-point tiara made of a dark gold. Slivers of gems stuck to the tiara’s blunt face.

It was hideous.

‘That’s the problem with royal jewels.’ Carlos put a clenched fist over his mouth to hide his grimace. ‘They’re stuck the past, and that tiara looks straight out of the bronze age.’

“Tonight, we’re celebrating an important moment in Auradon’s history.” Ben took the tiara and held it over Mal’s head. She sank lower, and Ben carefully fixed it atop her head.

When she straightened, everyone clapped once more. Carlos, noticing King Beast’s attention on him again, listlessly clapped along.

“And there’s been something I’ve been working on for you,” Ben told Mal, squeezing her hands.

She matched his smile as he guided them further up ship, right past Carlos. She didn’t even look at him.

‘Of course not, idiot,’ Carlos kicked himself.

He watched as the crowd parted, leaving a clear view up to a tall object swathed in a curtain. Carlos needed only a quick scan to ascertain the size and shape of the mysterious gift to guess what it was. Oh no, he hoped it wasn’t what he thought it was. He twisted around to look at similarly shaped objects lining the boat’s exterior walls.

Looking back now, he watched Jane clamber up the short set of stairs to the bow and pull the oversized gold rope. The curtain heavily dropped as the crowd gasped, admiring a brilliant stained glass depiction of Ben kneeling adoringly before a magical, effervescent Mal. Her hair and dress appeared made of amethysts rather than glass, and her eyes could have been emeralds.

“Ben,” Mal’s voice was so soft and overwhelmed with emotion, “I love it.” She turned from staring at the stained glass to gazing adoringly up at Ben. “I love it so much.”

‘How—’

The young king held her in his arms. “I love you. And things have happened lately that made me realize maybe I’ve gone too far. And—” he dropped his forehead to be closer to hers “—I love you for who you are.”

Her short exhale of relief was short-lived before her hands were around Ben’s neck, his lips on his as the guests cheered — except for one.

‘How fucking dare you.’

His fists clenched until his arms shook. His thoughts buzzed like a hive of wasps. Ben didn’t make her anything. He’d only commissioned that stained glass mosaic. But Carlos, he’d made her two dresses with his bare hands. Ben was the one who made her feel like she’d needed to turn her spellbook in, so where the hell was this coming from? First he yells at her for using magic, and now he’s gifting her an image of herself using magic. The hypocrisy of Auradon was too much.

And the worst damn part was he’d said all of this to Mal ages ago and better. She’d kissed him for an actual violet dress yet she’d kiss Ben for everyone to see over a glass imitation.

Now to Carlos’ humiliation, tears prickled in his eyes. ‘I hate it here.’

He walked away as the string quartet started up. With a bow to each other, Ben and Mal came together to begin the opening dance.

Where the hell was the cake?

She looked amazing, Ben thought while leading her across the dance floor for the tenth song in a row. He saw his parents dancing, as well as his classmates and their parents. But when the soft while lights reflected in her green eyes, she looked unbelievable.

Ben wanted to proclaim his love for her sense of humor and vivacity. Everything she did, she did loudly. He adored her and couldn’t wait until they were married. Yes, they were not engaged yet, but he had faith. This was true love.

Mal scoffed, smiling at him. “What?”

“I was thinking I should write you a love letter,” he confessed. Ben wanted to list all the ways he loved her, because brevity had no place in a love letter

Her eyes rolled playfully at him. “Wanna know what I’m thinking?”

Talking wasn’t easy when he smiled so much. “What?”

“That I should’ve practiced dancing with this heavy tiara on my head.”

Ben lifted his arm to spin her under it, and her hand grabbed the tiara to keep it in place. They giggled together as their hands returned respectively to her waist and to his shoulder. He’d already seen her at dinner with his parents, but out here with the sea wind gently whipping her cape, she stunned. He could see their future together, her tiara becoming a crown as they ruled Auradon in an era of prosperity and peace.

This was his future queen, and he couldn’t have been luckier.

Hand going higher up on his shoulder, she leaned closer to ask, “So you really do like my magic?”

Guilt cracked his smile. He’d carried that burden since yelling at her during their picnic. A terrible dissonance had taken root in his mind the more he thought about the torn wings, broken wands, the Evil Queen’s words, and Evie. Magic was too powerful, and abuse of it led to corruption and suffering. That’s why he didn’t want Mal using her spellbook for every day problems that could have been resolved with virtue rather than magic. He didn’t want to see her corrupted by it.

But, the Fairy Godmother used magic. With Mal becoming closer to the royal family, and hopefully some day part of it, there would be a place for her magic to be responsibly used.

‘But Evie—’

Ben’s thoughts swirled. The Genie of Agrabah had given up his magical form, and his magic was kept locked deep in the museum. There was a precedent for people opting to live everyday lives, but when the Fairy Godmother suggested that to Evie, the idea of changing the loveliest person he knew seemed wrong. Now Ben didn’t know what was right at all. All he knew was to protect her.

‘—where are you?’

Atop the grand staircase, he’d searched the crowd for skin like the moon and hair like the dark sea shimmering under its silvery light. He’d been so busy preparing for the Royal Cotillion that he’d not had the chance to even call her. In an ideal world, they could’ve gone to the Royal Cotillion together.

‘Wait, she had a date.’ Ben silently apologized for Doug for forgetting about him. Turning his head one way then another, he realized how odd he looked to Mal and asked, “Have you seen Evie?”

Mal’s hopeful smile evaporated, and her hand slackened on his shoulder. Ben’s first thought was something terrible had happened to Evie before realizing he’d never answered Mal’s question about her magic.

“Your magic is part of you, so I do,” he rushed to fix. “But good things have to be in moderation.”

“Yeah.” Mal looked around, sweeping the crowd as if looking for someone. “Totally.” Clearing her voice, she added, “No, I haven’t seen Evie. I thought she’d be here. I mean, the horns aren’t that big a deal.”

He blinked at her. “Except they are. I mean, they’re not to me or anyone who care about her, but—uh—”

The song came to a close, and the pair stepped apart to bow. The distance was only a couple of steps yet seemed farther. As the crowd of dancing couples straightened up to applaud, Ben spied Doug near the railing.

He touched Mal’s arm. “Let’s go ask Doug where she is.”

“This is our party, and you’re going to go find Evie?”

“This party is for everyone, and I’m going to find our friend. Are you coming?”

Her arms tightly wrapped around herself. Her long, stiff braid hardly moved as she quick-turned her head to check out the snack table. “Actually, I’m kinda’ thirsty.”

“Okay.” Ben sensed something odd and wanted to ask if everything was all right. Instead, he kissed her cheek and left her to do as she liked. Making his way through the guests was a laborious endeavor as he continually stopped to say hello then expertly avoided prolonged small talk.

“Your Majesty, congratulations.”

“Thank you. Enjoy your evening!”

“Ben, you look great!”

“Thanks, so do you!”

And so on until he reached the brunette boy, awkwardly standing next to the white railing and watching everyone else dance while he dejectedly swirled a cup of red punch. Ben readied himself what he could already tell would be bad news.

“Doug,” he started, the weight on his chest leaving him breathless. “Where’s Evie?”

The other boy deeply inhaled, bunching his shoulders up near his ears before shakily dropping back down. “She’s not answering my calls! Or my texts! And she either wasn’t in her room when I came to get her or she wouldn’t open the door for me. I don’t know!”

Ben couldn’t tell if Doug was angry enough to cry or upset to the point of anger.

“But I think—” he nodded jerkily “—that I was right! She’s seeing someone else!”

The words shocked him from head to foot. “Who?!”

“I don’t know,” Doug replied, voice quivering with sadness and frustration. “But I’m going to find out.” He pointed to the sky. “And I’m going to win her back!”

“I—I need to go.” Ben racked his brain. These past couple of weeks left him feeling like he knew her so well, but he couldn’t imagine who she’d fallen in love with.

Had she shared her secret with them? Ben felt himself jealously asserting to this stranger that she’d trusted him. Then again, she’d gone to him because of his access to the Museum of Cultural History. But, he held onto the fact that she chose him.

Ben swiftly strode along the railing so no one could stop him for conversation. Unpopular as his decision would be, he needed to disembark and find her. Cogsworth wouldn’t allow it, and Lumiere would try convincing Ben to stay. Surely his parents would get involved too, as if he wasn’t the one in charge.

Again, he thought of Carlos accusing ‘his people’ of hypothetically exiling the VKs. ‘I don’t have people,’ Ben miserably thought, feeling like a babied king.

Maybe, however, there was one person that night he could rely upon. Lumiere’s daughter, Arlette, grew up in Castle Beast. Her position was like Jane’s, attending Auradon Prep but serving as part of the Royal Household. Lumiere, unlike the Fairy Godmother, gave his daughter cotillion off. She’d told Ben her plan was to have a quiet night reading by the fire.

For that reason, he felt a degree of guilt calling her now.

“Bon soir,” a light as a feather voice answered over the phone.

“Bon soir.” Ben pressed his cell phone close to his face, speaking quietly as he found the least occupied area of the deck. “Arlette, can I ask a favor? I need to leave the party.”

Plastic plates stacked one on top of another, glued together by remnants of white icing. A third one, balancing a thick, square slab of vanilla cake, joined them in Carlos’ hand. His fork stabbed through the spongy layers, separated by raspberry filling. The dessert dissolved into delectable sugar in his mouth, but the comforting effects had long faded with the first bite of his second slice. But, eating cake was better than not as Carlos stared out across the harbor, and the Isle of the Lost stared back at him.

Jane hummed worriedly as she openly watched him from her post at the punch bowl.

‘Is it on purpose?’ Carlos wondered. ‘So people on the Isle have to see the party going on and remember what they’re missing?’ Perhaps even worse, the Isle was in full view yet no one on the boat cared except for him.

He’d eaten more cake in one night than most kids out there had in their entire lives. The thought made him want to upturn the snack table into the ocean.

“Carlos?” Jane quietly ventured. “Are you okay?”

Another bite of cake, another half-second hit of dopamine, and then he swallowed it all away.

“Because I’m kind of afraid you’re going to get sick eating all of that cake so fast.”

Then he could do the Isle proud by throwing up off the side of the True Love.

“Did you know we don’t have chocolate or peanut butter on the Isle?” Carlos pensively asked, stepping close to where she stood. “We only get what you guys throw out, if it doesn’t get eaten by rats or rot all the way through first.”

The string quartet played a cover of a pop song, and some Auradon Prep students nearby exclaimed how they loved that one. Heels tapped, skirts swished, people laughed, and the party went on.

“And now that I’m in Auradon, whenever I’m throwing away my trash, sometimes I look in the bin and wonder what’s going to make it to the Isle.” Carlos thought of all that fresh fruit, the snack bars, and the canned drinks sitting out in the dining hall. He looked down at the stacked plates in his hand.

“You and everyone else here feel sorry for me because of who my mom is,” Carlos said, keeping his voice soft because this was Jane. “But no one here is sorry for the fact I had to grow up on their trash. Do you think I deserved that?”

Jane frantically shook her head, barely disrupting her long tresses. “No.”

“Beast did.” His eyes met hers. “All of your parents did.”

She swallowed, gaze flickering at a few partygoers stopping by for cake.

Carlos noticed the chatting adults as well and lowered his voice. “All because my mother went off her medication and no one stopped to think maybe the woman wanting 101 Dalmatian pelts was having a mental health crisis.”

The forked stabbed through the cake so hard they heard the sharp, hollow sound of plastic striking plastic. “And you know, they had to re-home most of the dogs anyway. Like Roger was going to support that many dogs in a townhouse.”

Carlos knew he sounded bitter, but how could he not be? That ridiculous situation was why  he grew up in poverty. His mother used to say what their lives would be like at her home, the real Hell Hall, just outside Magical London. Just imagining it while he lied in a cold, dark closet twisted him up inside until he cried.

He gripped the tiny plates until they trembled. “I know she’s mean and vain and snobby, but that’s not a crime. And she’s not been on her medication since, because there’s no healthcare on the Isle.”

Jane shook her head, disbelieving. “But there must be something—”

“My dentist was a literal rat, Jane!” Realizing his outburst, Carlos hissed, “And Professor Ratigan’s degree did not cover dental work.”

She squeaked in horror.

“But then Ben brings us over, and we get a fancy school, fresh food, attention, chocolate, the internet, pillows—”

Jane opened her mouth, confused on that last one but unsure what to say.

“—and in days, Auradon has us brainwashed enough to turn on the whole Isle. And now I’m standing here, eating cake, and the kids on the Isle are sleeping on whatever cushioned thing you threw out.”

Carlos knew they did the right thing by stopping Maleficent, but how could doing the right thing include abandoning innocent kids and betraying their home? And if they’d done the wrong thing by using he wand, then no one would be living in poverty anymore on the Isle.

‘Was there even a right and wrong to that situation?’ Carlos’s head felt messed up.

Hesitantly, Jane said, “I’m sure Ben will bring them over too.”

Carlos remembered his mother trying to tear the invitation to Auradon from Maleficent’s hands. She didn’t want her “little boy” to go away and be raised by “those people.” It was Horace’s daughter Gemma who’d given him the suitcase to pack his things. Both Horace and Jasper had to repeatedly explain to Cruella that it would be the best thing for him.

Looking back now, Carlos wondered if no one in Hell Hall had actually believed Maleficent’s scheme would work. They really did think it was goodbye.

“So the plan is to separate VKs from their parents,” he stated bitterly, Auradon’s scheme unraveling in his mind. “Tell these kids they’re not good and put them through your mother’s remedial goodness classes. And if they change enough to be more like you, then they get to stay.”

It was insidious, the perfect way to eliminate a villainous subculture without committing genocide. By bringing the kids to Auradon, they’d slowly give up their heritage for the basic comforts they’d been robbed of for years. Carlos thought of Mal with her blonde hair and how desperately she looked at the royal family’s faces for approval like a starving dog. He watched her tear off and bury whole pieces of herself to please these people. It made him sick.

“But what if—” He touched the safety pin he wore in place of a bowtie “—I’m already a good kid, and I don’t think I need to change?”

Jane sniffled and said with full sincerity, “You’re the sweetest boy I know.”

A couple, hands tightly intertwined, exited the crowd of dancers as another song struck up. They smiled goofily at each other, exhilarated and oblivious to what they were interrupting.

“Hey, can we have some punch?” the girl asked with too big a smile, high from the revelry.

Carlos eyed the boy next to her, neither of whom he knew from any of his classes. The suit jacket sleeves went past his wrist and sagged at the shoulders.

‘You need a better tailor.’ But he wasn’t in the mood to give free advice. The aqua tie he wore to match his date didn’t suit his skin tone either.

Maybe it was because of how happily oblivious they were, partying with the Isle in view, but Carlos couldn’t stand them. “We’re talking.”

The other boy gave him an odd look. “And we’re thirsty.”

The VK gestured past the railing. “And there’s the sea.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Jane nearly leapt back to the punch bowl and eagerly poured two glasses full of ruby red punch. “Here you go! Enjoy!”

The couple thanked her without a glance and walked down ship, where people were sipping and mingling.

Then it was back to being just her and Carlos. He knew she didn’t deserve to get unloaded on for that, especially when she was being treated like a servant first by her mother then by her classmates. He related to her horribly.

“Your mom is mean.”

She flinched. “What?”

“My mom used to work me to the bone too, and some classmates would make me do their dirty work.” Like hosting a party just so they could bully his brand new friend. Carlos thought of that stretch carriage arriving, the one she’d rented but didn’t get to ride in.

“You deserve to be out there having fun too.”

“I—” She bashfully looked down at her bare nails “—I’ll get a chance to join in when the punch bowl is empty.”

The corner of his mouth tilted up in a half-smile at her. “Perfect. We’ll just dump what’s left overboard.”

She looked up at him with eyes lighting up in amusement though her jaw dropped in shock. “We can’t!” she whispered, making him grin even more.

He inclined his head toward her. “Why not? And did you really do your make-up so you could serve our classmates all night?”

She shrugged, seeming to question her intention herself, before looking at him with eyes shining hopefully. “So does this mean you’re not angry at me?”

His shoulders sank, melting for her. “I’m angry at a lot of things, but I can’t. Not with you—” She had the most unbelievable blue eyes “—Jane.”

Her hands, palms open, reached out for him. Despite not understanding what she was doing, Carlos rested his fork on the plate and set his hand in hers.

“Thank you for telling me what’s been bothering you.” Her hands warmly squeezed his. “I was so scared that I’d ruined our friendship. I just want you to know you’re my friend, and if you care about something, then I care about it too.”

Her eyes filled with earnest, unshed tears that washed away his anger. She was still the sweetest girl he’d ever met who deserved better than what she got. Maybe they could still be each other’s dates and have that evening he’d hoped for.

“Jane, do you want to dance?”

“I—” she blushed, releasing his hand to touch her cheeks “—I can’t. I mean I want to, but I told my mom I’d watch the snack table.”

And staying true to your word was a virtue. Carlos felt sorry for Jane growing up with such a lawful goody-good. He wondered if that’s why she was so self-conscious and shy, from growing up with a mother judging her by a rigid standard of goodness.

Through a smile, he asked, “Want to know what we say on the Isle if we don’t want to dance with someone?”

She tilted her head. “What?”

“Buzz off.” His smiled widened, recalling, “Or we go—” he pretended to check her out from shoulder to the lopsided bow at her waist “—Dressed like that? No way.”

Her smile was slowly growing to match his, so he encouraged her further. “Go on. Turn me down Isle style.

“Oh! Umm.” Jane looked him over for some hint of inspiration. Then putting on an affected air, she said, “I’d rather serve punch all night than let you trip over my feet.”

He raised the pitch of his voice to match hers. “And I’d rather—” he pointed a finger at her “—drink sea water than your punch!”

Jane gestured much like he had minutes ago. “The sea’s right there!”

Their act dissolved into giggles which burst into laughter. She hid her pinkish face behind her hands.

Taking gasping breaths, she settled down enough to ask, “But if I wanted to say yes Isle style?”

Carlos forced himself to calm down enough to reply, “Then you’d check me out, scoff and roll your eyes—” he demonstrated exactly so “— then say eh, I guess.”

Jane giggled prettily into her hand. “Hey Carlos?”

He could remember exactly why he’d wanted to ask her out so badly. “Yeah Jane?”

Her gaze brushed over his torso, then she rolled her eyes and dramatically declared, “I guess I’ll—”

“—What’s so funny?”

The warmth that had washed over him now cooled. Carlos looked to his left, and there stood Lady Mal. She observed them through her long, black eyelashes. Her shoulders hunched from crossing her arms. Her dark, pink lips pouted, and Carlos didn’t understand what she had to be so unhappy about. Ben had gotten even more “perfect,” and she was getting everything she’d wanted.

‘I thought you were done with me,’ he wanted to say. After all, she chose Ben, and now Ben had decided to like her magic. How perfect for her.

Carlos wasn’t ready to admit it was jealousy that made him hold up his cake slice, bearing the Florian red rose in piped icing. “Hey look, soon you’ll get to put away your dragon heart necklace and wear your new family’s emblem instead.”

A single annoyed look from Mal told Carlos something had happened to piss her off. He learned just how pissed off when she stabbed one finger right into his cake. She scooped up the rose and, never breaking eye contact, stuck it in her mouth.

She slowly dragged her finger from between her lips. “Mm,” she sarcastically hummed. “Delicious.”

Jane’s uselessly stuttered. He surreptitiously glanced around for any other witnesses to Mal’s incendiary behavior.

“What are you thinking?” he hissed.

“That it’s my party,” she flatly retorted, taking his fork from the plate and scooping another bite for herself. She dragged the plastic tines from between her teeth then licked it clean of icing. “And this is my cake.”

Annoyed as he wanted to be, Carlos couldn’t keep ignoring the itchy feeling that something was wrong, and Mal needed him right now. On the other hand, she had a boyfriend who should be at her beck and call.

‘I mean he’s literally kneeling like a servant for her in that stupid mosaic.’

Unless the boyfriend was the problem, in which case of course she went to him, her black, white, and red all over boy toy.

Maybe it was because he’d just been teaching Jane some Isle-isms, but he could hear his mother. For once, he didn’t hate what she had to say.

‘No one treats a De Vil like some common accessory.’ He could almost hear her teeth distastefully biting down on the long cigarette holder.

‘Thanks, Mom.’  He was grateful to her not for what he’d pretended to hear her say but for the little bit of De Vil pride that saved him from always kissing Mal’s boots.

“Jane, pour me some punch,” Mal said, not looking away from him.

“Yeah, sure!” When Jane grabbed the clear plastic ladle, inspiration struck him.

A mischievous smile showed his teeth. “She can’t.” Reaching, he upended his plate’s contents into the punch. The spongy cake lost its structure and dissolved into a goopy, floating mass of sugar.

To a shocked Mal, Carlos shrugged, lightly declaring, “There’s cake in it.”

Jane’s face lit in surprise, but she didn’t look angry. He held out his red gloved hand for her.

“Carlos!”

“Let’s go!”

Pulling Jane out from around the table, they trotted off to find their spot on the dance floor. His whole body came alive in the excitement. He’d dance with Jane for as long as she could managed in those heels. Then he planned to tell her they’d kick their shoes off somewhere and keep going. They could dance this whole night away.

As he spun Jane and she laughed loudly, he could just hear Mal fuming, yelling to Lumiere something about apples.

There was no avoiding the future, and nothing could remain hidden forever.

Her wall-mounted TV died with a click. Live coverage of the Royal Cotillion arrivals was over, and she knew it was time to go.

Everyone had looked so dazzling and happy, just like in previous cotillions. On a small, dusty tube TV, she used to sit on the Castle Across the Way’s broken furniture and watch these elegant people. Now, she knew all of them and nearly got to be one of them.

Her heart leapt when a royal carriage arrived and out stepped Mal, so glorious and grown up. She looked nothing like that angry, insecure girl from the Isle. Evie’s hands had pressed to her chest as her heart filled with pride for her. Later, she saw Jay smiling for the cameras. Trust Jay to be such a natural. As for Carlos, she wanted to check on him. Commentators wrote off his indifferent expression and ignoring red carpet etiquette as De Vil haughtiness, but Evie knew her friend better. Everyone gushed over his outfit, though.

When it hit Evie that once again, she was watching the world happen without her, she’d cried. First she was trapped by Maleficent’s decree, then she was trapped on the Isle, and now here she was, sitting in the silent dorms with nothing but her horns for company.

‘If I don’t go out there, then it will always be like this.’ Her hands pressed to her face, because people could ridicule her. She might be stepping from one prison and into another.

Sniffling, Evie pulled herself together with the intention to go dab at the moistness around her eyes and fix her make-up as needed. Standing up made her wobble in her heels, something she never did. Evie inhaled deeply, hoping that wasn’t a bad omen.

‘I could have told the whole world about my boutique,’ she lamented, ushering in a fresh wave of tears. A quickly grabbed tissue blotted them. She then dabbed dots of new concealer under her eyes. Her fingers tapped the liquid into place as she stared, transfixed on those imperfect little areas.

Evie sternly told herself there was no use crying now over something she couldn’t undo. If she still planned to go to the Royal Cotillion, she had to leave now.

So distracted was she by the fear of how people would look at her, treat her, that she forgot her phone lying untouched on her bed for hours. Even more distracting was the eeriness of the Auradon Prep dorm halls she walked through without a hat for the first time in nearly two weeks. The lights were on, and it gave all the appearance people should be there. Shivering, Evie made haste outside then stopped, the door open just enough to reveal someone was out there.

On the drive sat a solitary, silvery-blue carriage pulled by white horses. A footman and driver waited stock-still while a dignified woman stood at the bottom of the steps with a phone in her hand, raised and facing toward her as if on a video call. Evie’s eye first noticed her opulent gown, grand and bubbled at the hem so it did not drag excessively on the ground. She looked as though hugging her would mean to fall into an embrace of luxurious fabrics.

Atop the woman’s head sat a diamond crown, or so Evie supposed diamonds, because what else would catch the faint light and shimmer likes stars in the mid-evening? Then the most curious thing became evident to Evie, something that took her back.

A cascading, blue braid down her back — this was Cinderella. She and her daughter were the only other people Evie knew in Auradon with differently colored hair like her, Mal, and Carlos.

“Chad, I’m proud of you for doing this,” she warmly said. “I know how excited you were for this cotillion.”

“I mean, Audrey had a broken carriage wheel, so I had to help,” Chad’s smug voice came from over the phone’s speaker. “As in, I’m bringing help. My driver knows how to change those and we’re bringing a spare.”

“I just want to make sure you remember we help people because it’s the right thing to do,” she mothered, her loving concern pulling at Evie’s heart. “And that true kindness gives without asking for things in return. Help Audrey because you want to do something good, not to get anything from her.”

“Oh, well...” He loudly exhaled, dragging it out. “…Okay.”

Cinderella’s motherly smile tilted in a knowing manner, and Evie got the impression she knew exactly who her son was.

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you, Mommy.”

The blue light died as the called ended. A wild idea came to Evie that now was the time, and this was the person.

She cleared her voice, the noise itself giving the woman pause on her way back to the carriage.

“Excuse me?” Evie meekly called out.

Cinderella turned around and observed the dormitory doors, trying to decipher the shadow beyond them. “Everything all right?”

“I — um — my mom isn’t here, and I was wondering if you could—” Evie gulped a breath “—let me know how I look?”

Goosebumps raised on her skin. It may as well have been the dead of winter.

“Sure. Come on out.” Her arched brows wrinkled in concern, undoubtedly from how odd it was that a student should still be in the dorm.

Evie straightened her posture the way her mother taught her, despite her whole body wanting to curl in on itself.

‘It’s okay,’ she told her trembling limbs.

Her hand pressed against the wide door handle. She felt like being sick. Having not eaten since lunch didn’t help.

Then with sheer determination, Evie pushed the door fully open and strode down the steps. She made it halfway before stopping, daring to look at Cinderella’s face. Her expression, unguarded, watched Evie with such open empathy that her heart and nerves slowly melted. When she smiled, the relief coursing through Evie made her smile back.

“You look wonderful, honey. Did you get ready all by yourself?”

“Mhm.” She nodded, descending the rest of the way and doing a careful twirl at the bottom. “I made the dress myself.”

“I’m not surprised, coming from the modiste who catered to my son’s very particular tastes, which I will be compensating you for.” When Evie opened her mouth to object to being paid any more, Cinderella held up a hand. “I know all too well the value of working hard.”

Evie nodded mutely, shaking now from the sheer relief that she wasn’t be treated like a freak. There would still be people who opposed the way she looked like the Fairy Godmother had, but there would be people like Cinderella too.

Picking up on Evie’s emotional state, the queen took her hands and gave a comforting squeeze. “I remember being scared going to my first ball. I also remember needing some help getting there.”

Evie found herself being guided by the hand toward the carriage as Cinderella called up to her driver.

“Jacques, would you please take my friend to Belle Harbor?”

Everything happened so immediately. One moment, Evie was insisting she couldn’t, and Cinderella was insisting it was her turn to help someone make their dream come true. Then in a clatter of hooves clopping down the driveway, the silvery-blue carriage was streaming like a shooting star in the night. Wind rushed through the open windows, freeing a long, curled tress from her updo. Evie let herself be taken in by the reality she really was going to the Royal Cotillion. She wasn’t the little girl sitting miserably by an old TV and wondering what it was like.

But there still were little girls like Dizzy on the Isle living that way. Her red gloved hand clenched in a determined fist over her heart. The way people felt about her new appearance or her heritage wouldn’t stop her. She was free, and she had so much good to do in the world.

The crowds must have thinned out with the live coverage being over, and cameras were not allowed on the ship. She sat back on the thickly cushioned bench seat with its squashy, tasseled pillows while the driver or perhaps footman provided the paperwork to get them past security.

The carriage rolled forward, and Evie dared to look out the window toward the ocean. There, the brightly lit True Love beckoned to her from the end of the dock. The carriage jostled as the footman hopped down from the back, and the door opened.

She swallowed. This was it.

Evie thought of her friends, of the Isle, and of Ben. With care to mind her dress’ short train, she stepped onto the red carpet.

The reporters and photographers had dispersed with no one left to ogle over. Security in black tuxes and servants in bright yellow ones went about their respective jobs. A few of the security team sharply looked at her but said nothing.

“She wants them brought in maintenant,” one of the waitstaff said, hurriedly waving forward waiters carrying trays full of apples bright as rubies.

‘I belong here too,’ Evie reassured herself before starting forward, toward the boat.

“Evie!”

She looked around in disbelief, wondering if she’d imagined it. Because Ben would never—

—Except Ben had. He appeared around the side of the van unloading the apples. She was certain this was a dream, the way he looked at her like he could’ve picked her up and spun her around. When he reached her, embraced her, his warm cologne of vanilla and sweet wood washed every fear from her head.

When he pulled back to get a good look at her, she reached up to fix the crown atop his head so it sat even.

“I was so worried you wouldn’t come, but you’re here. You’re really here, and you look perfect.” He spoke quickly, breathlessly. “I called a car so I could come find you, but you showed up and it’s like my dream came true.”

She shyly turned her face toward her bare shoulder. “Mine too.”

When his hand touched her elbow, his fingers stuck to her skin. “Oh, sorry!” He let go of her to wipe his fingers on a handkerchief with the Florian coat of arms. “I had a snack while I was waiting.”

Then he grabbed her hand. “Come on! I know where we can go.”

Evie didn’t understand, because it was clear where they’d go. He led her down the red carpeted dock and up the gangplank strung with bubbles of floating lights. She could hear the distant string quartet and happy voices, but then he was taking her up a tightly spiraling flight of stair. They ascended higher up into the exhilaratingly briny air. They emerged on the utmost top deck, a small area with high safety railings and a clear view of the main deck.

She spied Carlos dancing with Jane. He looked so much happier. Weaving unhurriedly through the crowd toward them was Mal. And in her outstretched hand, she carried one of those mouthwatering, glazed apples.

“Did I mention you’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met?”

Blushing, Evie looked up and realized Ben stood much closer to her than he usually did, not that she minded. No, she rather liked the smell of his cologne.

Before she could reply, he captured the hand she’d rested on the railing. “I mean it. You’ve been through so much, and you don’t let it stop you from being so kind and smart and brave.” He shook his head, blue eyes bright. “I can’t stop thinking about the time we spend together.”

His eyes were so earnest and, as Evie realized, off. But the reason why eluded her.

“I think about you a lot too,” she confessed, her voice barely louder than the sea wind’s gentle but persistent swooshing. “And I wish—I wish things could be different.”

Evie shook her head, blinking away tears. “But they aren’t. And I hope—I hope you and Mal can be happ—”

He kissed her. Where they were fell away as Evie became instantaneously lost in the sensation of his lips pressing against hers. She’d been kissed before but not in the way that left her heart skipping beats and burning alive. Her hands grasped his azure satin suit jacket as if she might push him away, to stop her head from spinning, but the warning sirens had faded so fast in her mind. Her last shred of judgement melted like sugar at sea.

His lips tasted so sweet, the hint of apple tipping her off that it was the lingering, sugary glaze of the candied apples. What had that glaze been? Because the sweetness was spreading from her mouth through the rest of her head until it reached her thoughts. Except, what thoughts? That’s right, she loved Ben. She loved him and loved him and loved him. Nothing would hold her back from that.

That’s how they were, kissing until they forgot whose hands, whose lips were who’s when someone else ascended the stairs.

Ben and Evie were blind and deaf to Mal’s breakdown.

Chapter Text

Mal had a recurring daydream. Her mind went there when Values and Virtues class became too grating. This was her comfort blanket during press interviews where a dozen invasive questions hit her again and again.

In this daydream, she looked like her old self with purple hair, combat boots, and her now too small leather jacket. Evie wore her hair in that V-braid again, and she dressed like she used to. Jay stopped caring so much about the rules and affecting his spot on a sports team. Carlos acted like he had in that duel against Ben — confident, athletic, and damn she loved his hair pushed back like that.

She, Jay, and Evie were like how they used to be, before Auradon changed them. Maybe it was for the better, but it was a lot less fun. So, the Core Four gave Auradon a taste of mischief with deceptively sweet apples.

She loved imagining the kind of chaos they could cause throughout the school, from the front lawn, to the formal gardens, and into the classrooms. Values and Virtues essays would get ripped and tossed like confetti. Spray paint would mar the lockers and hallways. Oh, and that statue of King Beast was absolutely getting vandalized. Imagining the chaos they’d wrought made Mal breath contentedly, wherever she was.

Mal had started adding another piece to her perfectly wicked picture. It involved her, Carlos, and getting pinned against the lockers. She had a few different ideas for how that could go.

When Jane told her last second about needing to provide a gift for guests at cotillion, Mal might admit that she had snapped. Auradon always wanted more and more from her. Her mother, her hair, her identity, her spell book, some royal babies eventually — oh, but they also wanted gift.

But Ben made all the pressure and sacrifices worth it. He put a tiara on her head that dated back centuries in his family. He changed his mind about magic for her.

“So you really do like my magic?”

At least, that’s what she hoped. Because when the time came, he said her name.

“Have you seen Evie?”

Because how could Mal ever be perfect like Evie? Of course she wasn’t good enough.

First love, true love — it was all supposed to be the same in Auradon. It was Ben who taught her love was supposed to be unconditional, that she didn’t have to be perfect to be loved. They had been at the lake, and it had been after he emerged from the water that he said he loved her and asked if she felt the same. All of the evil scheming and meanness inside her broke, because Ben’s love had been the kindest touch she’d ever experienced in her life.

So she paid the price for his love, and now she didn’t recognize the girl looking back at her in the mirror. Mal couldn’t even say at least he was by her side, because he wasn’t. He left to find her best friend.

Then she’d looked for Carlos, who liked her without any caveats and was always on her side no matter how bad she got. But there he was, talking to Jane. She didn’t even know why he liked her. That stupid crush had come out of nowhere. She couldn’t fathom how he could go from kissing her to flirting with Jane.

But everyone seemed to be forgetting this was Mal’s party, and she’d cry if she wanted to, get revenge if she wanted to, and set this whole damn place ablaze if she wanted to.

And here came her incendiaries now, disguised as shiny apples stacked into orderly pyramids. Waiters pushed carts of them alongside the snack table, where Carlos’ half-eaten cake dissolved in the now discolored punch.

‘I gave you people every piece of me,’ Mal thought with a level of rage that felt biblical while the string quartet concluded another song. ‘I jump through every hoop, and now I’m standing at my own party — alone. Everyone seems to be forgetting that I’m going to be queen someday. And if you wanted someone weak who you could control—‘

She swiped an apple.

‘—Then I’ll show you who the real puppets are.’

Lumiere climbed partway up the steps and raised his arms to announce, “Mesdames et messieurs, please enjoy a gift from Lady Mal!” He gestured grandly toward the apples, stacked and sticky like croquembouches. The crowd politely made their way toward them, because not partaking in a gift from the future queen would have been a terrible slight.

Plastering a well-practiced bright smile on her face, Mal passed by guests who thanked her as she passed them by without a glance. If they thought her behavior rude or odd, they’d soon forget.

She saw her intended targets, catching their breath and beaming at each other without disentangling their hands. Jane, hair beautifully tousled from dancing, looked so in love with him. It made Mal sick.

“Carlos, this is the best night of my life,” Jane said between shallow breaths. She released one of her hands to press it over her undoubtedly rapidly beating heart. Mal pitied her if a couple dances with Carlos automatically made this night so amazing.

Except maybe she understood. Here she was, pursuing Carlos with the firm belief being closer to him could only be a good thing.

He noticed her first, turning his head, but Mal’s attention wasn’t on him. Jane followed his gaze and nearly jumped, as if she feared being in trouble for not getting the future queen her punch.

‘Ooh but I’d kinda like that.’ Being loved and feared? The worst part of her preened at the idea of getting the best of both worlds.

“Jane, I want to personally thank you for working super hard on making cotillion so…perfect.” Mal smiled in a charming way she’d mastered years ago.

Jane smiled back, but Carlos didn’t. Of course he saw through it.

She offered the apple to the younger girl. “So here’s my gift—” Mal held a hand over her own heart “—representing how all of us VKs are changed for the better since coming to Auradon.”

Jane accepted the apple with both hands. “Aww Mal, thank you so much! You’ve worked so hard to become such a great person—”

“Where’s my apple?” Carlos cut in, and Mal could tell he was ready to be a problem. “I made your dress.” Judging by his pushy tone, he didn’t actually want an apple.

‘Quit it, babe. Even if it is hot when you’re a problem.’ Mal didn’t need Carlos pushing her to reveal her scheme, not yet. ‘Good boy for knowing things aren’t always what they seem.’

Her lips pressed together. “Mm I already thanked you.”

“And I rejected it.”

She smiled in such a way that wrinkled her nose. “Did you? Because you acted like you really enjoyed my thanks.” Mal leaned closer to him. “I think it was the way you came back for thirds.”

She loved this game.

For a moment, Carlos looked so vulnerable. Then the moment broke with a loud, wet crunch. Her gaze slid over to Jane, whose expression reminded Mal of Carlos’ first time tasting chocolate in the limousine.

“Wow oh my gosh, Mal, this is delicious!” Jane took another bite and continued speaking anyway, forgetting manners. “What’s the glaze made out of?”

Mal could almost see the pieces coming together in Carlos’ head. It was so cute.

“Glaze?” His serious tone gave away that he already knew but maybe didn’t want to believe it yet.

Damn Mal loved this game, and it’d barely just started. “It’s my special sugar glaze.”

“But not caramel? You warmed up sugar to make a glaze but it didn’t caramelize?” he pushed, skepticism thicker than the glaze.

Mal rolled her eyes. “Well I’m not exactly a chef, Carlos.” She wondered if he expected her to start confessing to what she’d done. Of course she’d let him in on it. Just give it a few more seconds.

“It’s like, sweet but light,” Jane said, chewing and speaking quick as her jaw allowed. “And I think it’s really settling my stomach, because all of my nervous butterflies are going away.”

Mal watched classmates and parents pass by with partially eaten apples in their hands. Chatter died away as casual nibbles turned to voracious bites. Goosebumps rose on Mal’s arm at the sheer anticipation. How could she claim for even a moment that she’d given up magic? Sure, Mal had considered abandoning the whole plan when Ben showed her the glass mosaic representing their true love.

But he wasn’t here now, was he?

Jane’s apple core clattered on the deck. “Carlos, did I ever mention what pretty eyes you have?”

He swallowed, bashful. “Uh—”

Jane spoke faster, stepping into his space. “And that you’re an amazing dancer? I can’t dance, but you make me feel like I can dance.”

Carlos clearly tried to understand what exactly was happening. “I’m really glad I made you feel that way—”

“And I think you’re so cute,” she confessed, an almost desperate edge to her tone. “And that I’m insanely lucky. I was really hoping you’d ask me to cotillion, but I was also scared you wouldn’t, and I talk when I get nervous. Then I was terrified you’d think cotillion was lame, so I tried acting like cotillion was lame.”

Carlos blinked. “That was a terrible strategy.”

Mal gave a loud, unbecoming laugh she tried hiding in her hand. This was gold. She walked her fingers along Jane’s shoulder, not that the other girl made any show of noticing.

“And wasn’t it hot how he saved you from serving punch all night?” Mal drawled near Jane’s ear. “He’s so bad.”

The blue in Jane’s eye’s had become a thin outline around her dilated pupils. “Every time I’m around you, it feels like my whole world is changing,” she openly adored him. “You did something bad, but it was so you could do something good for me. I didn’t know goodness could be so—so—”

“Paradoxical?” Carlos ventured.

“Yeeaah,” she sighed out then straightening her titled head as she asked, “Did I ever mention you have beautiful lips?”

Mal walked her fingers to Jane’s far shoulder then stepped behind her, to her other side. “She really is right,” she taunted Carlos from over the shorter girl’s shoulder. “And I would know.”

Carlos reached around Jane and gently grasped Mal’s elbow before whispering, “Did you love spell Jane?”

She loved that intense look in his eyes. “Nope,” she replied, popping it. “Love spells are so passé.”

“How many apples did you spell?”

A chorus of laughter and playful screaming drew their attention over to the snack table, where teens and adults pelted and smashed cake into each others faces, ruining their fancy clothes. Another classmate ran over to the sound system and hooked up their phone. A crunchy guitar rift and clanging cymbals erupted over the speakers, and people scream-cheered before stampeding the dance floor.

He looked back at her, and Mal smirked. “All of them.”

Jane’s hands grabbed his cropped jacket as she insisted, “And I was really hoping we could go on a date after this? Because it’d be really great if we could be boyfriend-girlfriend, and I could tell my mom, and she’d be super happy, and maybe I wouldn’t be so—”

“Hey Jane—” Carlos took her hands and twirled her close to him “—and I want to forget some things I found online, but that’s not happening today either.” Carlos spun her away from him and let go, sending Jane twirling into the erratically dancing crowd.

Mal giggled delightedly into her hand as Carlos carefully grabbed both of her elbows to get her attention.

“So if it’s not a love spell, what is it?” Carlos demanded to know, sounding nervous. She almost wanted to pet his face and call him baby.

Cupping his face with her hands, she said, “It’s just a — oh hey, did I mention I totally missed the eyeliner look on you?” She leaned her head back to laugh at her own little joke. Straightening up, she continued, “All I did was take away their annoying self-righteousness. I gave them the freedom to do what they’ve always wanted to do.”

Specifically, it’s as a spell to reveal someone’s true heart and nature. Just in case she’d ever been separated from her spellbook, Mal had photocopied it using the school library’s printer. Mal had intended to shred the copy after turning in the original, but life moved too fast. Then before she knew it, she needed magic to save her ass again.

Her hands wandered down to the base of his neck. “And now we get to see what they always wanted to do.”

He shook his head, clearly not understanding. “You’re throwing away everything for one spell?”

“The spell wears off with the daylight,” Mal explained, unworried. “It’ll evaporate and their memories with it.” She pressed her hands against his shoulders. “Isn’t it wicked?”

“But what if it’s cloudy tomorrow?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s magic, Carlos. Don’t be so literal.”

“Says the girl who casts spells in verse.” He took one of her hands from his neck and held it. “And you’re still not making any sense to me. You chose Ben. You chose this. And now—” Carlos pulled both of them out of the way of a pair of boys who mistook jumping and flailing for dancing. Getting over to the railing, he continued, “What’s your end goal?”

Her chin tilted upward. “Control.” That wouldn’t be enough to tempt Carlos, but may be this would. “Revenge.”

There it was, floating in those dark brown eyes — intrigue.

“Aren’t you tired trying to be good enough for these people?” she said, daring to step closer into his space so he could hear her over the music.

Mal needed to tailor this to him. She thought of the sweaty, vulnerable boy confessing his insecurities to her in that darkened greenhouse. “Weren’t you tired of how they always win?”

His thick eyelashes rose and fell in a slow blink as he thought it over. “What’s the point if no one will even remember in the morning?”

She tilted her head, letting her long braid fall off her shoulder. Touching a single finger under his chin, she reveled in his stunned attention before replying, “The best manipulation is never noticed, only felt.”

Her finger slid out from under his chin and bent toward Mal, beckoning him. “And I need your help tonight. We’ll only get away with it if we get everyone here.”

He fixed that dark stare on her. “Including Ben?”

A weak laugh died in her throat. “You’re so cute when you’re serious.”

He grabbed her wrist, sending a shiver of excitement through her. “I mean it. What about Ben?”

Her gleeful mask slipped, letting her show Carlos glimpse the rage and pain she was trying to drown. “Do you see him anywhere?” she tightly asked.

The corner of her lip twitched as she readjusted her smile back in place. She could see the way he looked at her, his features softening in understanding.

“All I’m asking,” she said hotly, “is for you to help me.”

Carlos turned his head, looking across the sea as he replied, “Let’s do it for the Isle.”

Mal did this for herself. “Of course.” She didn’t care about anyone left on that rotting trash pile. Before Uma made herself an issue, she’d nearly forgotten the other girl existed. But, the Isle was home.

Her sidekick secured, she led the way through the crowd of dancing, careless bodies that bumped into her. Abandoned heels littered the deck as women kick them off. The string quartet sounded like it was trying to accompany the rock music. Multiple dance-offs had started. The deck nearly vibrated from the energy.

Stepping around splattered cake slices, Mal arrived at her so-called gift and plucked as many apples as she could carry. Carlos did one better by grabbing the steering bar and kicking the wheel lock. Noticing his hesitancy, she caught his eye then jerked her head for him to follow her. She’d already found her target, appearing to emerge from the lady’s restroom.

“Fairy Godmother.” Mal smiled brightly in greeting, and the other woman did the same, making her look even more chipmunk-like. She offered an apple. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t miss my special gift to everyone. And I wanted to give you a special thanks—”

In the span of a second, Mal caught Carlos’ eye to share in a private joke.

“—for those remedial goodness classes. They really changed my life.”

If the Fairy Godmother taught at Dragon Hall on the Isle, she could’ve taught the class on condescension. Maybe she and Frollo could have found common ground with their sense of moral superiority.

‘Gross.’

“How absolutely sweet — and healthy!” the Fairy Godmother laughed at her own joke while taking the apple. Her chuckles died in the wet crunch and amazed hum at just how delicious it was.

“Oh goodness, this is marvelous,” the older woman muttered while chewing and swallowing as quickly as she could so she could take another bite. Her pupils dilated with each swallow, and by the time she’d reached the core, the spell had completely taken her over.

Then like mother like daughter, she couldn’t shut up, “You know I had so many doubts about the VK program, but I’m so happy to see you’d changed your ways!” she gushed before her tone took a pitying turn. “I doubt your mother will, and I feel sorry seeing you villain kids love parents who might never love you back.”

Mal cleared her voice, because she’d lost it. That’s what the Fairy Godmother, the person who told her that someday her mother might learn to love her, really thought.

“Oh but Carlos dear, I thought you’d already learned that boys don’t wear make-up,” she kindly chided. “Make-up is for girls. Years ago when I went to school, the only boys who wore make-up were villains and another word I just don’t like to say.”

Carlos, who’d shifted uncomfortably at having his make-up criticized, now looked at her with confusion. “You mean gay?”

Color Mal unsurprised to hear such conservative opinions from one of Auradon’s speaking heads. But one glance at Carlos’ face decided her next move.

Mal’s smile was bright but her eyes narrowed like daggers. “Hey FG, go find whoever got you pregnant with Jane and get fucked.”

While the older woman gave a startled, “Oh!,” the blonde fairy grabbed his arm to pull him and the cart along. “We’ve got other people to deal with.” She examined the bronze eyeliner and shine of highlight on the tip of his nose. “I love this look on you.”

“Th-thanks.” He let her guide him along, and she loved that too.

Together, they proceeded to graciously bestow Mal’s gifts to every grinning guest and bowing servant. The string quartet welcomed the apples with sincere smiles at having been thought of. The servants quickly tucked in, and any hesitant to eat in the presence of their superiors had their fears assuaged by Mal’s charm. They emptied each cart of apples, one after another.

“Mal,” Carlos said, trying to get her attention away from the guests who’d found the spray paint bottles she’d snuck in under the tablecloths. “It’s them.”

She followed his gaze up the grand staircase, where Queen Belle and King Beast had emerged from the royal quarters. They smiled and chatted too much with each other to realize the party wasn’t at all what it should be. She excitedly grabbed two apples and ascended the stairs, swiftly before they could realize Lumiere was poorly attempting a cartwheel and Cogsworth was doing a bad robot impression on the dance floor.

Belle brightened at the sight of her, but Mal noticed Beast’s smile waiver when he looked past her shoulder. “I made glazed apples for everyone!” Mal wanted to get them spelled, fast.

“Oh that’s so sweet,” Belle said with a look up at her husband. “We’ll save ours for later. I’m amazed you still have room after dinner.”

Beast grinned good-naturedly at Belle and Mal. “I could’ve had ten more servings of that beef Wellington.”

The brunette giggled, but Mal forced her expression to stay happy and amused while trying to figure out how to spell them now. These were the only two people at the party who had the social standing to refuse her gift.

The two apples disappeared from her hands. Carlos, having carried an extra apple with him, began juggling the apples into the air. One then another and another flew up, almost sparkling under the bulbous string lights. They’d paused to stare, entranced. One then another and another went up until one arched up and down towards Beast then another toward Belle. The adults caught their apples with amused laughs. Carlos, still holding his apple, took a bow.

Chuckling, the two royals did what anyone would do when such delectable-looking food fell into their hands — they took a bite.

Mal let her smile turn malicious as she leaned sideways toward Carlos. “When did you learn how to juggle?”

He leaned closer and muttered, “I grew up without friends, TV, or the internet.”

When he quickly departed down the stairs, Mal hesitated only for a second before realizing he probably didn’t want to risk another moment like what happened with the Fairy Godmother. She too had picked up Beast’s dislike of Carlos ever since the duel. By the time she’d rejoined Carlos on the main deck, Belle was already attempting sloppy pirouettes while Beast tried doing the robot.

Carlos tossed the apple and caught it one-handedly. “We still haven’t found Ben.”

People screamed in delight as punch and chunks of ice splashed overboard. Looking over, they watched a group of students pour sparkling water into the emptied bunch bowl and begin bobbing for apples.

Mal took the moment to swipe the apple from his hand. “I’ll go high and see if I can spot him either on the boat or, I dunno, on the dock. You can wander the boat, see if we missed anyone.” Mal’s lack of enthusiasm showed.

Carlos picked up on it. “So you’re really going to spell him again?”

Convincing him to eat those bewitched cookies meant nothing when she hadn’t cared about him. He’d forgiven her so flippantly. But expectations for her were different now. He hated when she used her magic — well, except he’d recently said there was room in Auradon for her magic. They just hadn’t gotten to discussing the finer points of when her magic was okay and when it wasn’t.

But another part of her whispered, ‘I wanna see what’s in your perfect, golden heart.’ She wanted to hear him say he loved her and only her.

Meanwhile, Carlos stood right there, waiting for her.

“Yeah,” she murmured. A new thought prompted her to hold her apple up, near his lips. “What would happen if you ate one?”

He thoughtfully examined the apple’s glossy exterior before his attention returned to her. “Treason, probably.”

She pulled the apple away from his face and grinned. ‘Ugh, that’s such a good answer.’

Walking away, Mal looked at him over her shoulder and pretended to lick the apple. “Be bad for me.”

The sight of his stunned, tempted expression was so delicious she could almost taste it as she ascended a tightly spiraling staircase. The best view would be from the small, topmost deck. Her free hand idly played with the end of her taut braid. Having all of her hair pulled tightly to one side was giving her a headache.

Finally, heeled feet tiring from the stairs, she neared the top.

And she found Ben.

And Evie.

And everything she feared.

Her world turned sideways, sending Mal colliding against the metal handrail. Her shoulder smacked against the wall, but her eyes couldn’t tear away from the sight. His arm tightly wrapped around her waist. His hand was on her face, in her updo that was coming undone. They were kissing like it had been a lifetime since they’d seen each other, as if they’d crossed a sea, battled monsters and gods, just to be right here.

Mal should have screamed at them, torn them apart and cursed them both. That’s what Mal of the Isle would have done. Lady Mal found no sound in her throat. She stumbled backwards down the stairs and surely would have fallen if not her her faint grip on the rail.

Until her heel caught on her dress’ skirt. Her strength failed her. She fell.

She tucked her head as her shoulder collided with the deck. A pain cry escaped her. A far away part of her mind feared she’d broken her arm, but Mal had her voice back. Pain, electrifying her senses, brought her back to herself.

So she screamed with every breath left in her lungs. Her head felty dizzy from the fall, the pain, the sight of the two most important people in her life betraying her. She couldn’t see straight.

Mal dragged herself off the ground and stumbled through the nearest door, into the ship’s helm. She couldn’t see through the viewing port. There was too much smoke, and everything was tinted green. The purple smoke grew thicker, and the pounding in her head grew louder.

Mal could protect herself. She didn’t need Ben or love or even her friends. Her hands tore the crown from her head and threw it into the wall.

The purple smoke grew thicker, and the trembling feeling under skin felt like it was breaking free from her flesh. Looking down, she saw scales enveloping her arms as her fingers sharpened into claws.

‘Run, run away,’ this power inside her whispered. ‘Burn it all and run away.’

The door threw open. “Mal!”

She snapped around, fixing her glowing green eyes on him. It was not the scales and claws but Carlos’ reaction, his flinching and recoiling, that told Mal it was finally happening. The violet dragon of her nightmares was coming true. The purple smoke filled the room, sparing them the sight of each other as Mal gave in to the urge to do what she’d dreamed in her darkest, angriest moments.

Because this was her party, and she’d cry if she wanted to, get revenge if she wanted to, and—

Arms enveloped her, and Mal felt her racing heart press against a firm chest. Carlos had leapt through the thickening violet smoke and desperately held her.

“Mal! It’s okay! It’s okay!”

Listening to him panic hurt her, but Mal couldn’t stop her magic from building and burning at the inescapable memory of Ben and Evie burned into the back of her eyelids. Green lightning sparked around her. Her shoulders hunched, her back arched, and she swore she could feel the wings try to push out from her confining skin. Through sheer will did she keep herself from grabbing him or else her claws could tear him apart.

“Get away,” escaped her lips, just barely, as her insides began changing, morphing into the vocal chords of a monster.

Then with more courage than all of those legendary kisses depicted in stained glass mosaics combined, Carlos grabbed Mal’s face and kissed her.

The tension escaped her like air from a balloon about to pop. The scales absorbed back into her skin. Her shoulders sloped downward. Her scalp tingled. The sensation was cooling, comforting, and came from his kiss.

When Carlos pulled away, neither opened their eyes immediately. Mal slowly opened hers first and found the world returned to itself rightful colors and the purple haze receding. Carefully, she touched the arms that held her, bidding Carlos to open his eyes as well. He searched her in wide-eyed wonder before melting in relief.

He found the shoulder which took the fall. “You’re hurt.”

Mal shook her head, because that wasn’t where the pain was. Just when she was about to declare everything had been for nothing, a piece of hair fell in her face.

Purple.

She raised a hand to touch the purple hair freely falling over her shoulders, wavy from the braid it had escaped, and realized her gloves were purple. Carlos let go of her as she looked down and found herself in a whole new dress.

“It’s the one you made me,” she said hoarsely. Mal spun once and watched the layers swish beautifully. Her hand caught the gauzy cape at her back and gave it a toss, so she could watch it flutter down to her back. Everything felt so right. She loved it.

‘Love.’ No, he couldn’t. He had no reason to. If her boyfriend and her best friend couldn’t love her, then how could anyone else?

Mal didn’t want to call it love. She didn’t want to ask Carlos if he loved her, as if that would light a fuse that would blow up their whole relationship just like with—

She needed a distraction.

Mal grabbed Carlos’ hand, prompting him to blink and snap out of his dazed expression. “Come on.”

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, making her momentarily worried that he’d eaten an apple before remembering he was too smart for that.

Her hand squeezed his. She pulled him outside, where the salty air became intense as the wind whipped their clothes as the night became late. They could dance, or she saw some kids had turned on the hot tub. Her sore feet could go for a soak. No, that meant slowing down. Dance floor it was.

‘And maybe if I’m lucky, we’ll all dance to death,’ she half-joked with herself. ‘Could’ve sworn there was a spell for that.’

They’d nearly made it to the crowd, lethargic but too desperate to dance and release to stop “Mal, stop. You’re hurt,” Carlos insisted, pulling her back. “What happened?”

She let that gentle tug propel her back into him, where one arm hooked around his neck and the other, her injured arm, went around his waist. “I think my mom was right about love.” Her heart twisted. “It’s fickle and lies and doesn’t last.”

“Mal, you have to tell me what’s going on. What happened with Ben?”

Her eyes and nose burned. ‘Fuck.’ She didn’t want to cry over this and make tonight even more humiliating.

But when she opened her mouth, she couldn’t stop the tears. “He’s with Evie. They’re together,” her voice strained to get out.

Tears burned hotly down her face splashing down onto her collarbone.

“He doesn’t love me.”

Carlos’ expression became unreadable as the palms of his gloves soaked up her tears.

“Don’t say it,” she bit out. “Don’t call me a hypocrite. Don’t tell me this is why you didn’t want to take me up on the stylist thing. Don’t tell me this is how Ben would’ve felt if he’d walked in on us. Don’t tell me I’m the the worst person and will never change, because I already know!”

The Isle was a prison. Auradon was a prison. Now being who she was felt like a prison, and she couldn’t even confide in Evie anymore. She’d kept Jay at arm’s length too. All she had left now was Carlos, and if he loved her, then that meant he’d leave her someday too.

“Okay, well, say something.” Because she needed to know what was going through his head.

“It sucks you don’t believe in love anymore.”

She did believe love existed, but her rose-colored glasses about it were gone. Auradon acted like love was so me pure, perfect thing. It was all a lie.

“Why? Do you love me?” Because when he kissed her, enchantments and disguises fell away. His kiss worked today, but next week, her hair might’ve stayed blonde.

“I don’t really know what true love is either.” His eyebrows drooped sadly.

She pulled him closer, and his arms embraced her again as he pressed his face into the violet leather covering her shoulder. Her cheek pressed against the side of his face. Her eyelashes brushed the white strands of his hair as their misery became bearable.

Then her lips pressed against the top of his ear, then his hairline. Carlos raised his head, and she kissed the top of his cheek, because it made the two unloved kids entering adulthood feel something good. He lifted himself up just enough, she was sure, for her to kiss the corner of his mouth. Then it became lips meeting lips, and the sea wind gave her goosebumps.

“What are you doing?”

They followed the source of the incredulous voice to find Lonnie, staring at them and fully in her right mind.

‘Shit.’ Mal shook. She needed to remember the memory spell. ‘Something about sand slipping away—shit!’ Her arms trembled as they pulled away from Carlos, as if distance could possibly help Lonnie forget she saw the Lady of the Court cheating on the king.

“Nothing much,” Carlos managed. “You?”

“Uh, not committing treason!” Lonnie looked at both of them with open disgust.

“Well since you’re free, you should try an apple. They’re, uh, really good.”

Mal gave Carlos this — he was managing to speak more than she could at the moment. Her thoughts boiled down to cursing and frantically piecing together the spell.

“Those apples have a glaze, and I’m on a no-sugar diet.” Lonnie crossed her arms and eyed Carlos like he was as trustworthy as a villain. “And this is totally not the point!”

Then out from the same doorway Lonnie had surprised them from came Jay, who took one look at Lonnie’s face then at them. Mal hoped Jay’s sharp observation skills and quick cunning hadn’t dulled while cozy in Auradon.

“Doing what?” Jay asked Lonnie. Mal tried judging if he was as clueless as he sounded.

‘C’mon, I need Jay from the Isle.’ Not the Tourney quarterback or the former captain of R.O.A.R.

The taller girl pointed accusatorially at them. “They were kissing!”

“Oh,” Jay grunted with a shrug. “So?”

Lonnie seemed to think they’d all lost their minds, but before she could vocalize it, Jay went on, “Kissing isn’t a big deal on the Isle. It’s just sorta something we did when we were bored or down in the dumps.”

Jay casually walked over to them, planted both hands on Carlos’ shoulders, and squarely kissed him. Watching her two best friends locking lips was the closest Mal came to having an out of body experience. Her mind was still processing what she’d seen when Jay’s strong hands landed on her shoulders and a foreign pair of lips pushed themselves onto hers.

Pulling away from her, Jay turned back to a wide-eyed, mouth open Lonnie and shrugged. “It’s just a thing we do sometimes.”

It absolutely was not.

“Yeah,” Mal found her voice to back him up. “Evie and I used to kiss for practice.” Untrue, but there was a time Mal wouldn’t have been mad if it was.

‘Now, Evie can get all the practice she wants with my boyfriend.’ She’d deal with that when the image brought white hot rage instead of spiraling misery and waterworks.

Lonnie turned her head. “Really?” Curiosity colored her voice as she looked speculatively at Mal. “Do you wanna kiss?”

Mal’s arms crossed as she looked away. “I have a headache.”

Jay playfully elbowed Lonnie and declared, “You owe me a rematch in bowling. Last time, I was just warming up.”

The Northern Wei girl smiled brightly at the challenge, declaring, “Oh, you’re SO on!”

The moment she’d rushed back down the stairs, Jay turned to his friends while rubbing the back of his arm across his mouth. “Mal, you owe me big time for this one.” Turning to Carlos, he said, “You taste like cake.”

The shorter boy blinked. “Yeah, I, uh, ate a few slices.”

“Cool.” Jay nodded. “So…Is this something we’re gonna have to talk about later?”

Carlos, confused, squinted at him. “The kiss?”

“No, you and Mal.”

Carlos inhaled deeply and nodded, which was enough for Jay who huffed a sigh, as if understanding they had a while to go on this particular carousel. “Well if you guys want a break from whatever drama you’re in the middle of, there’s a sick bowling alley below deck.”

He turned and ambled back down the stairs. Mal quirked a smile. Jay was still Jay, deep down. He played Lonnie so easily, and he knew his lines without a script. Now she wished she’d gotten Jay in on her apple scheme.

“You’re going?” Carlos asked after her when she followed after Jay.

“Why not?” she said, not particularly passionate. If she wanted to keep despair at bay, then she’d need whatever noise and chaos she could find.

“I didn’t think you bowled.” He followed her closely.

She heard him mention needing to get her arm checked, but the pain was receding and the cheers drew her into a darkened bowling alley. People crowded around the four lanes, lit up with lasers and a rotating disco bowl projecting multi-color lights. The pins glowed in the dark, as did the bowling balls sitting in the ball return machines. No one used them. Instead, students and even a few crowned guests hurled themselves down the lanes and gleefully crashed into the pins. Jay got a particularly impressive running start, sliding down the lane and scoring a strike.

As cheers of enveloped them, Mal turned to Carlos and grinned. “I do when it looks like this.”

It was like grasping the edges of a beautiful dream. So many times as a young girl, Evie had dreamed of sitting in the beautiful gardens of Auradon, dunking coffee cake in her morning coffee while chatting with a handsome, faceless prince, and of wearing the finest dresses. Then the morning light would creep in through the dirty, broken panes of glass and curtains so old they hung by threads. The silk ballgown swishing around her legs became the old, pilled nightgown scratching her legs. She clung to her prince, who made no gesture to stop her from reluctantly opening her eyes to another day in her castle prison.

But this wasn’t muted sunlight returning Evie to her conscious mind. A soft, blue light shimmered in the air around them. When she opened her eyes, Evie pressed her hands to Ben’s chest and pushed him away.

‘What have I done?’

She touched her face, her mouth as if frantically confirming this was all real. It was all true — Ben felt the way she did, and they’d both betrayed Mal. They’d really done the most selfish act and ruined everything that mattered to them in seconds. Had it been seconds? Evie wondered, because her instinct told her it had been much longer.

Ben obediently gave her space and instead began admiring the space above her head. “I know I’m not supposed to like your horns, but they glow like the aurora borealis,” he dreamily blurted. “And you look like the most beautiful girl in the world when they glow.”

A hot blush spread across her face, but Evie forced herself to get it together. “Ben, we can’t.” Saying these words felt like speaking with a sore throat. They hurt so much. “You’re two steps away from being married to my best friend.”

“And did I ever mention the time we’ve spent together is the happiest I’ve been in a long time?” he confessed, hands reaching toward her. Her own hands restrained themselves from closing the space between them.

“Ben, listen to me. What about Mal—”

“I don’t know if she trusts me. People don’t lie to someone they trust,” he went on, going long periods without blinking. “But you trust me. You’ve told me everything.” Ben stepped closer to her. “And we’ve had these incredible adventures—”

“Ben, no,” Evie firmly put a stop to it. They couldn’t do this. This wasn’t who they were.

He hardly seemed to notice. “I had no idea it was possible to fall in love with two different people. It’s confusing and scary, but that’s not how I feel when I think about the way we danced in secret—”

“Ben,” Evie cut him off, eyebrows bunching together, “This isn’t like you.”

The blue light emitting from her horns went dark, casting them back into the night’s shadow. Evie remembered the last time her horns glowed, the Spirit of the Magic Mirror had briefly returned to the land of the living. She’d not forgotten how he’d called her a princess. The Magic Mirror never lied.

‘The magic inside me did something just now,’ she reasoned. ‘Just like when I summoned the Spirit.’ Evie remembered how her mind fogged over the longer the kiss had gone before her mind cleared.

"Are—are you spelled?” she asked in disbelief that this could be happening.

Her stared at her, pupils dilated and unblinking. “Let’s run away from the party together.”

“Oh my gosh. You are.” Her hand touched her cheek, reaffirming this was all still real. The spell might have transferred to her with the kiss, easier done if he was bewitched by magical food. “What was the last thing you ate?”

“I called a car before I found you, and we can—”

Evie grasped the sleeves over his biceps. “What was the last thing you ate, Ben?!”

“Can I eat you?”

She blushed scarlet but forced herself to focus. “What food did you eat?!”

“Oh, uh,” he dazedly recalled, “A really sweet apple.”

Her mother loved teaching Evie, who was a dedicated learner. Some of that information had been useful, other lessons not so much, but Queen Grimhilde ensured her daughter knew to never trust an apple you didn’t pluck from the tree yourself.

‘So Ben’s love spelled.’ Her stomach dropped not to the deck but to the ocean floor. ‘He doesn’t actually love me.’

Evie walked away from him with a fist clenched over her heart. She wondered who could be so cruel. ‘Is this some kind of prank?’ Like the time Mal had locked her in Cruella De Vil’s closet full of furs and bear traps.

‘Mal wouldn’t do this. Ben already loves her. Unless—‘ Mal hadn’t exactly been ecstatic to learn they’d been having secret adventures together. When she and Ben fell on top of each other in the limousine during their escape from the Isle, she’d made her feelings abundantly clear.

‘No,’ Evie wanted to convince herself. ‘Mal wouldn’t do this to taunt me.’ Paranoid, she looked around as if Mal might appear from the stairs and start laughing at her, as if she was still the bitter girl from the Isle.

“You said you called a car?” Whatever was going on, Evie needed to get Ben out of here. If people saw the King of Auradon fawning over the Lady of the Court’s seamstress, then his good name and the VKs’ redeemed reputations were over. “Let’s go find it.”

Ben grabbed her hand and obediently led the way, descending the spiraling stairs so quickly that Evie became dizzy. At the top of the gangplank, she slipped her hand from his so to not appear suspicious to the footmen and security.

Just like Ben had said, on the main road at the end of the dock sat an idling black car with tiny Auradon flags on the hood. A girl with glasses and burnished gold hair pulled back in a chignon leaned against the driver side door. She straightened up at the sight of Ben then eyed Evie in a manner curious but not unfriendly. Her eyes lingered the longest on the horns, making Evie fear what she could be thinking.

“Arlette! Perfect!” Ben said in greeting before turning back to Evie. “We can go anywhere you want.”

Evie looked at the other girl and held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Evie, the daughter of Queen Grim—um— the Evil Queen. And Ben really needs to go home. He’s not feeling like himself.”

“Arlette, mon pére s’appelle Lumière.” The other girl shook hands without taking an eye off of Ben. “Eez ‘e quite all right?”

Ben held the back door open for Evie, who gestured for him to get in first. “I think someone spiked the punch.” When he’d fully gotten inside, she closed the door on him and went to the front passenger side.

None of this escaped the other girl’s notice as she climbed back into the car. “Ze party seems exciting, oui?”

Evie looked at yacht and realized the entire party looked like something off the Isle, minus a chandelier swing. “Yeah…it sure does…” She reached for her phone and remembered she’d left it on her bed. “Ben, can I use your phone? I need to call Mal.”

She needed to know this wasn’t Mal’s fault.

Ben, who’d slumped and spread himself out across the backseat, replied, “She won’t answer. She doesn’t use her phone at all but lies and says it’s dead. She lies.” He looked out the window, toward the yacht. “But I think I can fix her.”

Evie stared down at the dashboard as her whole body stiffened. ‘You shouldn’t have to.’

Arlette tactfully said nothing as she shifted the car into drive.

The noble students of Auradon Prep fell out of whatever carriages they’d fallen into when their rides arrived at eleven o’clock sharp to signal the end of the party. Parents went into their own carriages to return home to their castles, and the students went off to continue the party now in the dorms. Footmen, ever the professionals, acted unbothered as students shouted at each other and ran up the stairs in increasingly disheveled states.

From a green carriage decorated with hand-painted flowers came Rachel, carrying her heels. Following her was Carlos, who carried the tiara he’d recovered from the ship’s helm on the way out. Then came Mal, who was pulling her hair out of the waterfall braid Rachel insisted on giving her on the way back. Having her hair played with was a small price to pay to not share a carriage with Lonnie. After that near miss, Mal planned to avoid her for a while.

Mal eyed how comfortable Rachel looked walking barefoot in the grass and wished she’d taken her own heels off in the carriage. Carlos matched her slow pace, and the by the time they’d made it up the stairs and through the front doors, music was already bouncing off the walls. Feathers floated from the direction of the girls’ dorms as pillow fights commenced.

“Glad I charged my headphones,” Carlos said before heading toward the boys’ dorms.

She grabbed his arm. “Where are you going?”

He stared, clueless. “Uh, back to my room?” When she slowly shook her head at him, he ventured, “Why? What did you want to do?”

Escape. So Mal slipped her fingers into his hand and pulled Carlos toward the girls’ dorms. They walked past a room full of girls playing a dancing video game while still in their ballgowns. Carlos nabbed a box of chocolate cookies and a jar of peanut butter they’d left near the door.

They passed more doors and more girls who Mal paid no mind to. Everyone had dispersed into their own little parties and so was she. Her grip on Carlos tightened as her bedroom door came within reach. Opening it, she flung him inside.

“Hey!” He sounded more surprised than anything. Mal shut and locked the door behind her, as if that could keep out the image of Ben and Evie from chasing her.

Carlos glanced around her room as if he had no idea how he’d ended up there. Damn, he was so cute on a normal day, but that eyeliner, the contour, and that outfit made him completely irresistible, the perfect distraction. And he was so loyal to her. Fuck, no wonder so many villains made lovers of their right hand man.

Advancing on him, Mal ran her hands up his lapel and to his shoulders. “Wanna try it?”

Because she didn’t want this night to end. The moment it did, that’s when she’d have to face the light of day and everything she’d learned, what she’d witnessed.

“I—” His voice died.

Mal pushed him back, his knees hitting her bed and seating him on the duvet. Goosebumps excitedly rose on her arms as she climbed onto his lap, where the layers of her violet dress swallowed their lower halves. Her hands grabbed for the back of his neck and head, pressing her lips onto his and tasting the sweet flavor of cake lingering there.

“Mal,” he breathed.

Deft fingers unbuttoned his jacket before pushing it off his shoulders. They undid the safety pin from his collar and tossed it to the floor, where it slid into a dark corner.

Her hands smoothed over the stiff white linen covering his chest. “Tell me what feels good,” she purred into his ear.

“Wh-where is this going?” he asked, twitching from how incredibly good her touch felt.

“Somewhere that feels really good for you,” she promised, easily using her body weight to get him on his back. Her gorgeous dress really was getting to be a pain now, the layers making it harder to tell what was where as her thigh searched, pressing against him any way she could.

When he sucked in a breath and his whole body shuddered, Mal leaned forward to capture his lips and chase that moan she knew had to be hiding in his throat. His hands were on the bodice, finding all of the details he’d designed and sewn by hand. His palms pressed over her breasts, and her heart jumped, blood pumping one word: yes, yes, yes.

Then he was breaking the kiss, sitting up and forcing her back but not off of him. “Mal, he breathlessly started, face flushed beneath his freckles. “If you won’t say it, I will—”

His gaze flickered past her arm, and he paled.

“Your mother’s watching us!”

Mal sharply turned at the waist. Just out of arm’s reach was the glass tank, and inside sat a shocked, unmoving Malefi-Lizard.

“SHIT!” Mal half crawled off of Carlos and fought the skirt’s layers to clamber to her feet. Maleficent began frantically kicking up the blue pebble flooring of her tank. The violet-haired girl picked up the entire tank, used her elbow to knock open an armoire door, and set it inside. The door shut so quickly that the wood shuddered.

Her heart thudded in her chest. She hoped that if her mother ever turned back, that they would never, ever discuss watching Mal seduce Carlos De Vil onto her bed.

He stood up, straightening his shirt and grabbed his jacket to shrug back on. “I’m not—” he took a deep breath “—ready to feel that good.” Then bitterly, he added, “Especially not with someone else’s girlfriend.”

Mal choked out a hollow laugh. “Girlfriend? Me and Ben are over.” To his wide-eyed expression, she explained, “I saw him kissing Evie. It’s over.”

The relationship she’d sacrificed her mother, the Isle, and even herself for was over. Mal felt like the dumbest girl in Auradon, which she thought really said something considering Audrey was out there somewhere.

“And you’re sure he wasn’t spelled?” Carlos asked carefully.

“I didn’t give him an apple, and neither did you. He’d already left me before the apples arrived.” Her arms crossed protectively over herself.

“So what does this mean?” He went to busy himself with the cookies and peanut butter he’d set on her desk. Mal wondered if he was stress eating in anticipation of whatever she said next.

She held out her hand, and Carlos wordlessly handed her a peanut butter-dipped cookie. Mal nibbled it, maybe buying time to contemplate that her whole future became a question mark without Ben. She didn’t have a grand passion that translated into a livelihood like Evie with fashion, Jay with sports, and Carlos with his myriad of skills in fashion, tech, and science. Mal liked making art, but she had no idea how to turn that into a career.

“I don’t know.” She licked some peanut butter from the corner of her mouth. “Will you help me?”

Carlos cautiously replied, “I want to, but I don’t want to be your second choice just because you can’t have Ben.”

She stepped closer and watched as he straightened up, eyes on her. “How could you be my second choice when I had Ben and still wanted you?”

It was such an easy card to play. Mal always knew how to effectively use her words. If only she could figure herself out so easily.

Softly, Carlos said, “I’m going to bed. Then we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Stay here.” But he shook his head. “Can I at least help you take off your make-up?”

His little, “Okay” sent her grabbing the make-up remover pad from her vanity and the glass pitcher of water kept in her room, mainly for refilling her mother’s water dish. She poured enough to wet the pad and held it up near his face.

Carlos really was handsome. “How do I look in this dress?”

He looked at her with a warmth that left Mal feeling undeserving. “Like you.”

Choked, she nodded and gently pressed the microfiber pad over his right eye, slowly dragging across the lid and come back with shimmering bronze. Mal took care of him, and her heart felt some odd and wonderful way about that.

Chapter Text

No one ever told Evie love could be cruel.

Love saved people. Love made life worth living. Love triumphed all. But how could love also leave her sadly staring at her reflection, brushing her hair and remembering ceaselessly that Ben didn’t love her after all? For the umpteenth time, while running the white bristles over her silky tresses, Evie wondered how she could have fallen in love with the wrong person. She silently asked her tired, pinkish eyes what she’d done to deserve this.

Setting her brush aside, Evie opened the velvet box of lipsticks. She wanted to keep Ben’s gift separate from the rest of her makeup bag. Picking up a thin tube, she read the label on the bottom. Vesuvio, it read; burning and consuming like this feeling in her chest when she remembered the way they kissed. Uncapped, the color glided over her pale lips. They pressed together a few times to spread the color.

‘Perfect,’ she thought, feeling tragic as she observed herself. Evie wanted to talk to her mom, to ask where she’d gone so wrong. Her mother’s way didn’t lead her to true love. Auradon’s way didn’t steer her right either.

‘Mom, when you were young, did you ever fall in love? Did something go wrong?’ Evie wanted to be like Ariel with Eric, like Aurora with Philip. But at what point did she learn if she was the heroine or the villainess-to-be?

The case closed, her hands brushing the velvet. “Mirror, Mirror on the wall,” Evie quietly said to the mundane vanity mirror. “Wake up, heed my call.”

Nothing happened. She didn’t expect anything, but she continued nevertheless. “Though my question may be sappy—”

She pictured Ben’s face, the way he looked at her last night, and she blinked back tears. “Do I end up happy?”

A tapping at her door knocked Evie back into the present. Going to the door, she asked, “Who is it?” She didn’t have the fortitude for new dress orders.

“It’s me.”

Or that.

Evie’s hand gripped the knob without turning. On the outside, the moment looked so normal, but she could sense the building tension. She knew what a life with Doug would look like. They’d get engaged a few months after graduation and be married after a year. She’d grow her business and buy a castle for them. Evie would bear their children and silently pray with each one that none grew ghastly horns like the ones she hid under a hat every day of her life.

And if she took the Fairy Godmother up on having her horns surgically removed, then everything really would end happily ever after — minus the ‘happily’ part. Because every time they were invited to Castle Beast, every time she’d look at the news, and every day at every chance, she’d think of Ben and wish.

Faking it, lying, hiding — Evie knew no happiness awaited her there. So, she opened the door.

“Hi, Doug.”

His mouth opened then closed, eyes blatantly locked on her horns. “Jiminy Cricket!” He cleared this throat, taming his voice to more evenly ask, “What happened?”

“The horns?” she tried playing it casual, her voice jumping an octave. “They grow in the family.” It was the type of joke Ben would make to help her feel better.

“O-oh.” He took off his glasses and wiped the glass with the hem of his shirt. “Did-did you grow them overnight? And why are you acting so normal about this? Horns are, well, not normal.”

She could tell he really meant to say horns were a sign of evil.

“It, um, well it is normal for me,” Evie ventured. Because magic wouldn’t remove them, and the idea of having them cut off was too much. And if Evie knew anything about herself, it’s that she wasn’t evil. Horns and people’s opinions didn’t change that.

Doug nodded, unsure, but decided to act like it was normal. “Well, I came to make sure you were okay when you didn’t show up for the Royal Cotillion.”

Her hand jumped to cover her mouth as her jaw dropped, horrified that she’d entirely forgotten about Doug last night! She’d put off breaking up so they could enjoy cotillion together only to ruin his night even more thoroughly than if she’d dumped him an hour beforehand.

“Doug—” She was flustered, and seeing his eyes constantly flickering up to her horns didn’t help “—I”m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. Something came up, and I’d left my phone on my bed—“

Evie didn’t want to confess to kissing Ben, especially when it had been forced by a love spell. She didn’t want to tell Doug about the spell either, because she didn’t really know what had happened. To avoid starting rumors, she decided she could only speak on what she knew for a fact.

“I’m so sorry.” Evie waited to see if he would break up with her, wanted him to break up with her, because he deserved that dignity.

The boy took a shuddering breath. “There’s someone else, isn’t there? Is it Sneezy’s son?” He held up a quivering finger. “Because last year, he was caught for sniffing—”

She shook her head. “No, Doug, but—there is someone else.”

His hand dropped, and he stuttered once before looking away at the ground. Maybe it wasn’t the slow breaking of a heart that was the worst. Maybe it was the cracks that won’t stop growing. Maybe it’s the anticipation of when the pressure will be too much. Maybe it was a girlfriend replying slower then not at all to texts, canceling dates, and keeping a secret. Then, the final confirmation of all the nerves and insecurity.

‘Is breaking someone’s heart evil?’ The lessons of the Isle and of Auradon were so simple in the classroom and in fairy tales, but Evie found life wasn’t like that at all.

“It wasn’t anything you did.” Her quiet voice pleaded for Doug to not blame himself. “It just happened. I was never looking for anyone else.”

“But—but something happened,” he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking as he took a step closer to her. “You said it’s nothing I did, but is there something I didn’t do? Something you need me to do?”

“Doug, I’m sorry.” Evie refused to admit she didn’t include Doug on her secret adventures because she thought him poor at keeping secrets or capable of handling dangerous situations. “I can’t be with you anymore.”

His hands desperately pressed to his chest. “Because I’m willing to work on this! You’re worth it. You’re worth anything!”

“Doug—” Evie, guilt tearing tearing her in two, felt as though she was driving a dagger through his heart “—no.”

His eyes, brimming with tears, looked over her beautiful face one more time before he took a step back, then another away from her. “Will you at least tell me who your new boyfriend is before I see you two—” he gulped “—together on campus?”

“No one.” The words reverberated hollowly in her chest. “He doesn’t feel the same way.”

‘And he has a girlfriend.’ Evie didn’t want to be that kind of girl who would ruin a good relationship. ‘What he said to me — he didn’t mean any of it.’

Chin down, Doug looked at Evie with more kindness than she thought she deserved. “I—I just don’t get how this guy could turn you down. You’re you.”

“Thanks, Doug.” Evie wished so badly that her heart had not changed and that she could stop loving Ben. “I hope eventually, we can be friends again?” Her voice tilted upward, hopeful.

His mouth barely opened before it closed. He nodded like a nervous bobblehead. When his eyes filled with tears, he took off without a word, his hands stuffed in his slacks’ pockets. Evie watched him down the hall, until he rounded the corner.

Her ungloved hand touched her ruby heart necklace. This wasn’t the kind of person she wanted to be. Evie wanted to be good and kind, but she also wanted to be true to herself. Sometimes, being good was so much more complicated than being bad.

The door next to her clicked open as a princess of Northern Wei left their room. Evie felt no need to hide anymore. Her door open, she grabbed her purse, slipped her heels on, and walked out into the hall.

The heavy depression settling deep into her bones erased fear of discovery. She saw the other girl pause mid-yawn into her hand and stare.

Evie forced a smile and waved like nothing was amiss. “Good morning.”

Snap! With a frightened look, the other girl had retreated into her dorm.

Fine, Evie told herself. She’d expected not everyone to be as accepting as Ben or Cinderella. Closing her door, she squared her shoulders and went off to breakfast. Now was the time to reveal herself, when she was at her lowest, because nothing could be worse than knowing Ben didn’t love her back.

There had been no one in line at breakfast to slow down Carlos, who’d awoken with no problem, readied himself for the day, taken Dude on a quick walk, and all without an energy drink. The excited energy reminded him of that first lightbulb of inspiration for Mal’s violet dress. And speaking of, he grabbed two croissants stuffed with ham and béchamel sauce to stow in his backpack then his morning mocha and a black coffee with cream.

His pace hastened the farther he went into the girls’ dorms. Stirrings of life could be heard beyond the doors as girls probably tossed their duvets over their heads and hit snooze on their alarm clocks. At least, that’s what Carlos imagined. Even Jay had been up, ready for a morning work-out.

Careful not to jostle the coffees, he tucked one between his arm and side before lightly knocking. “It’s me!”

“Go awaa-aay,” came the sing-song, unserious reply.

The lock clicked open, followed by the door to reveal Mal, her sleepy scowl giving her narrow fox eyes. Carlos thought it must be difficult for Mal to ever look bad, if not impossible. He wondered if it was in her fairy blood.

“Morning!” Her coffee order went into her hands. When she took her first sip, Carlos placed a careful hand on her cheek and kissed her forehead. It was a compulsion. He wanted to kiss her after bringing her breakfast. And now that she and Ben were over, he could without guilt. The freedom to do that with her felt weird and wonderful.

Mal hummed, closing her eyes as she sank into the moment. “Mm so good.”

Setting his bag on the desk, near where he’d set the tiara last night, Carlos retrieved the two croissants jambons. “I figured you were starving too.”

The words were barely from his mouth when Mal snatched hers and began devouring it.

“Hey, how’s your arm?” Carlos touched the sleeve covering her injured arm.

Before he could ask to see it, Mal shooed his hand away. “Don’t worry about it. I used a healing spell, and it’s feeling way better.”

Carlos wondered how many spells she’d memorized before handing over her spell book. “So what’s the deal with magic now? First you’re using it in secret, then you’re handing over your spell book, and now you’re back to using magic without telling anyone.”

Mal was the most inconsistent person he knew, except for the fact she consistently chose to do whatever served her best, regardless if it contradicted an earlier action.

“Look, I was under a lot of pressure going into the Royal Cotillion. Anyone else would’ve snapped too,” Mal wrote it off. “That’s all the apples were supposed to be.”

Carlos didn’t know if he fully believed that. “And Ben said it was okay for you to use magic, well, kind of.” He sounded as skeptical and bitter as he felt.

Stepping into his space, Mal lightly ran her nails under his chin as she said, “Ben said that last night, but you’ve been on my side this whole time. Now c’mon.”

They took to sitting on her rug with their backs against the bed. Carlos observed her violet hair falling over the V neckline of a wrap chiffon dress. Seeing her back to herself gave him a sense of ease.

He noticed she’d set her coffee next to her mom’s tank, where Maleficent burrowed herself into the blue pebbles to avoid looking at them.

“We could try making it up to your mom by decorating her tank. You know, add some greenery, maybe a cool castle.”

“I don’t know why you want to apologize to my mom. She’s the worst, remember?”

“Yeah, well, she’s kind of helpless too.” Carlos looked at his hands. “If it had been my mom who saw us, I would’ve died on the spot, and you would’ve been choked to death.”

Mal bumped his shoulder with hers. “And my last words to her would’ve been ‘worth it, bitch.’”

His shoulders shook with a withheld laugh. “Okay, but seriously, maybe it’d help you and your mom get close if you improved her living conditions. Maybe during classes, you could play an audiobook for her.” He tilted his head, thinking. “I could probably rig up something so if she wanted to pause the book or speed up the audio, all she’d have to do is hit a button. It could work.”

Mal snorted. “I don’t think I ever saw Mom pick up a book that wasn’t full of spells.”

“Well, she’s also never been trapped in a lizard body. Sounds like now is the time to try new hobbies.”

“Okay.” Mal smiled despite being skeptical. “What genre do you think my mother, the Mistress of Evil, would like?”

Carlos shrugged, sipping his mocha. “Mystery? Those usually start with someone getting murdered.”

Mal choked a laugh while managing to swallow her breakfast. “Yeah, give her some ideas for when she’s got thumbs again. Is there any mystery fantasy? Mom wouldn’t care about books about humans.”

“I bet there’s something. If it’s really niche, maybe we can set-up an e-reader, and I can rig up a device that lets her turn the page from inside the tank.”

They one-handedly tossed their parchment, spotted from the butter, into the trash bin. Mal snatched her coffee back from the nightstand and sipped moodily as her eyes narrowed contemplatively.

“Giving my mom a better tank and a new hobby is useless if I don’t have a home to put her tank in,” she muttered.

Carlos turned his body toward her. “Your whole plan for the future was marrying Ben and being queen, wasn’t it?”

Mal sucked in a corner of her cheek, eyes on her coffee. “Graduation is in two weeks. I don’t know what to do or where to go now. You’re going way up north for school, Jay is going into pro sports, and I really, really don’t want to get a place with Evie.”

His hand covered hers in a tight, reassuring grip. She looked down at the white and black crest covering her hand.

“We’ll figure something out,” he gently told her.

Her eyebrows scrunched. “In two weeks?”

He held up their hands and said, “You said it yourself. You’re powerful, and I’m a genius. And we’re VKs. There’s no one more resourceful or clever than us.”

Mal stared thoughtfully at their hands. Her wrist turned, their fingers intertwined, and she pulled his hand so his crest pressed into the space over her heart.

“I know we’ll be okay.”

Her faith in him meant more than all the money in his mom’s estate.

‘Wait a minute.’

Carlos had a phone number he needed to find.

“Hey,” Mal interrupted his thoughts. “So last night, I kinda’ almost became a dragon.” Her fingernails tapped on the cup’s paper sides. “My magic has started being weird, and I feel like the less I use it, the more pent up it gets. So when I get really upset, it flares up and I start losing control.”

“That makes complete sense.” Carlos set his mocha aside where he wouldn’t accidentally knock it over.

She observed him carefully. “You’re not freaked out that I might turn into a big, hideous dragon like my mom?”

Pebbles pelted the glass as Malefi-Lizard kicked up a few at the insult. Her daughter rolled her eyes at the outburst and otherwise ignored her.

Self-consciously, she added, “I mean, the whole transformation thing probably looked really ugly.”

“You turning into a dragon isn’t as unexpected as you think it is.” That she could do many of Maleficent’s own tricks came as no surprise. “And I wouldn’t say the transformation looked ugly.” Except, Carlos had forced himself not to overthink the fangs she’d been growing before kissing her. “It just looked really serious.”

“I’m scared I might lose control and hurt someone I care about.” Her voice sounded so small.

What Carlos said next was a promise he meant, but he had no idea how far he’d have to go to deliver on it.

“I’ll stop you — and I’ll save you.”

The back of his hand still held against her chest, Carlos felt her breasts rise and fall with a deep, relaxing breath. He momentarily failed to keep his gaze above her neck.

“Hey Carlos?”

“Hm?”

Mal smirked, leaning closer to murmur in his ear, “You can touch them again, y’know.”

He’d barely had time blush and stutter before Maleficent started kicking up every blue pebble her hind feet could find. Mal fell against Carlos’ shoulder and laughed at both of them.

Enjoying her privileges as Lady of the Court while they lasted was not beneath Mal. With her title came the ability to call Castle Beast and request a car be sent for her. Tiara wrapped in silk and shoved into her purse, Mal enjoyed the complimentary mini fridge full of drinks and selected a sparkling water for the short journey. Even a hot towel was waiting for her to clean her hands.

Her eyes roamed the console that had once been stuffed with every kind of candy imaginable for that first trip from the Isle. She met Ben that day. He’d been so kind and genuine. Her heart sank recalling it all now.

The door opened for her, and Mal inhaled, readying herself to act like none of this affected her as much as it did. To be honest, she still debated if she would yell at Ben for what he did, for making her think love really was some wonderful thing and not an insidious evil of a different nature.

The footmen opened both double-doors for her, each door greater than twice their height. She sauntered in without a word or glance at anyone. A female servant greeted her the moment she took two steps onto the blue runner stretching up the grand entry hall.

“Welcome to Castle Beast, Lady Mal,” the older woman said with a respectful curtsy. “How can we serve you?”

A corner of Mal’s mouth twitched at the deference a title granted her. They’d never been rude, but she’d also never been curtsied at.

“Take me to the king,” she said, as if she’d commanded servants every day of her life.

“Right this way, My Lady. He’s taking a late breakfast in his study.”

Following after, Mal noticed a manservant from the Royal Cotillion who appeared to be blinking to stay awake. He squinted as if fighting a headache. Farther along, up a flight of stairs, and down another hall, they passed Cogsworth, who held a hand to his temple and nearly tipped over when he bowed to Mal.

‘And their memories of last night are all gone.’ Mal knew she was good. After her days of mischief at Dragon Hall, where she’d released trolls into the cafeteria one day then dumped spiders into the school halls the next, this was nothing.

‘And these fools have no idea.’ The scales had tipped back into her favor, and Auradon was blind to it. ‘I’m still the most powerful of them all.’ And no one could hurt her. That’s what her mother taught her.

Two manservants standing outside the doors to the royal chambers greeted her with curt bows then opened the doors. No one followed her inside. As the king’s intended, she had fewer hoops to jump through to see him privately.

Mal went through the sitting room full of heavy oak furniture, a large fireplace, and a domed ceiling. To the left was Ben’s bedroom. Her lip curled, disgusted at the portraits of Belle and Beast over the bed. Her gaze lingered on the bedding, a place she’d not so long ago fantasized about. She’d been curious about how love and sex combined, wanted to be intoxicated by them. Then just last night, she’d tried going all the way with Carlos without knowing if she loved him. That whole situation left her confused.

Going right, she entered a warm study full of book cases and wood framed furniture around a low table. Next to a vase of roses sat a silver tray of mini baguettes, jam, butter, sausages, and hot black tea.

Lastly, she looked at Ben.

“Mal!” Ben happily exclaimed while setting his teacup aside and rising from the settee.

He wasted no time pressing a kiss to her forehead, near the same spot Carlos had an hour earlier. Mal flinched back, repulsed. He missed entirely the way she glared at him as he yawned widely until his closed fist.

“Sorry, I’ve had a hangover all morning,” Ben explained, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he went into a second yawn. “I think someone spiked the punch last night. I don’t even remember how I got home.”

Time stopped.

Then, Mal heard herself say, as if from far away, “What?”

“Yeah, I’ve been taking all of these home remedies for hangovers,” Ben went on, completely unaware that Mal froze like the floor was cracking beneath her feet. “Dad made me drink tomato juice and beer. He swears by it, said he used to party all the time at my age, but I nearly threw up. Mrs. Potts gave me boiled cabbage, and Lumiere insisted I try a raw egg in orange juice.” His hand touched his stomach, as if ready to be upset all over again.

“My favorite recipe was the one I found online — anti-inflammatory medication.”

Despite her heartbeat in her ears, Mal snorted involuntarily. “That’s like something Carlos would say.”

“That and some hot tea have done the most for me.” Ben stretched his shoulders and yawned before guiding Mal over to the couch so they could sit next to each other. “Have you eaten breakfast? I can call for more.”

“Yeah, I already ate,” Mal answered distantly. Carlos brought her a tasty breakfast and her coffee order.

Ben had been spelled. Somehow, one of her apples had ended up in his hands. Mal needed to be sure, because if he did—

“Did you ever find Evie?” she nervously asked.

“Um—” he yawned “—no, I don’t think so.”

—Then Mal’s life had become so messed up. The oak paneled walls around them spun, and the air warmed until her palms were sweating.

“You’re sure?” she pushed, voice weak.

Ben snapped out of a yawn half-way through and looked seriously at Mal. “Why? Did something happen to Evie? Did she disappear? Or run away with—” He caught himself. “Sorry. Doug was just paranoid that Evie was in love with someone else.”

Mal, speechless, stared at him.

“Is Evie okay?” he asked insistently.

Her head nodded mechanically. She hadn’t seen the other girl yet, but nothing had ever prepared her to talk to her boyfriend, her pre-fiancé or whatever Auradon called them now, about her best friend after catching them kissing.

Pulling her purse into her lap, Mal opened the top flap and pulled out the tiara. “I came over to give this back.”

Ben accepted it then casually set it aside on the coffee table, atop a large photography book titled The World’s Most Beautiful Libraries. “Both of those will go back to my mom. You’ll get to wear it for official appearances.” He rose to his feet and went to rummage through his great oak desk, lit from behind by a rose window composed of blues and yellows. “But I wanted to give you something to keep and wear whenever you want.”

He returned to her side with a velvet box the size of the coffee table book. When he opened it, Mal’s hands covered her mouth.

A gold necklace molded into a roaring dragon gleamed richly under the chandelier’s light. The magnificent beast was beset with flames climbing up the thick chain, and its tail curled around a large amethyst at the center. A set of matching bracelets in gold and smaller amethysts collected under it like ladies-in-waiting, ready to serve. Mal “oohed” over a ring that was clearly crafted by an artist’s hand which connected back to one bracelet by a delicate gold chain.

Her hands dropped from her mouth to touch the priceless treasures. “I love it.” She looked at Ben so adoringly, and the love in his gaze looked like the greatest in all the world. “But I don’t have anything to give you.”

“I love giving gifts to people I love,” he started slowly, “but I don’t want you to feel like that’s how you have to express yourself. I don’t need gifts. I just want you.”

Goosebumps covered her arms. Closing the lid so the jewelry would stop hypnotizing her, Mal stashed it in her purse and asked, “Well, what about my magic? Last night, you sounded like you were changing your mind.”

Some of Ben’s choices lately had been odd to her. First, he was running around in secret with Evie and going to the Isle of the Lost, all of this to do with Evie’s horns. Mal still prickled with jealousy. Her own mother would use Mal’s lack of horns and fairy wings as signs of her weakness. But Evie, who spurned magic so she could be an Auradon girl, got the horns.

An awful thought occurred to her. “Does this have anything to do with Evie and her horns?”

Ben took a deep breath, and Mal heard the silent ‘yes.’

“Growing up, Mom and Dad taught me that magic was abused by the people who had it over the people who didn’t. And it made people lazy. How can we learn to be hard-working if everything is made easy? Ultimately, everyone agreed the best way to a moral, fair society was by banning magic.”

Mal detected a tone of uncertainty in his voice.

“The Fairy Godmother alone proved she could use her magic for the good of the kingdom, and that’s why she does the magic blessing at coronation and uses her wand to protect Auradon.” Ben took another deep breath. “And I was taught everyone agreed to give up their magic, except the villains. That’s why they were put on the Isle, among other reasons.”

The young king rose and began to pace around the couch with his hands running through his hair. “But now I’ve learned some things that imply not everyone gave up their magic willingly. Um—”

Mal turned to follow Ben, who paused and looked at the polished floorboards. Her head reeled from seeing him uncharacteristically shaken.

“That maybe some good fairies and pixies didn’t want to give up their magic. That maybe—maybe people didn’t get a choice. That—” He turned to her, eyes wide with worry “—that something bad happened.”

He sat on the edge of the couch, close to Mal so he could take her hands and declare, “I’m worried something bad will happen to Evie because of her horns. And I don’t mean I think the horns are the problem. I’m worried of what people in Auradon will do.”

Mal knew what he meant. Her mother’s wings, rumored to be feathered and glorious, were still on display in a glass cabinet in King Stefan’s castle. Before being thrown on the Isle, Scar and Shere Kahn had their front claws severed. Auradon’s practice was removing anything they deemed a threat was a practice well known to the Isle.

But apparently not to Auradon kids like Ben, who grew up on stories of their heroes being nothing short of morally perfect.

Despite how betrayed Mal felt, she knew if anyone tried to hurt Evie, she’d make them regret even the moment they’d considered it. Mal would use her power as Lady of the Court then as queen to protect all of her friends.

Oh, right. If she stayed with Ben, that is. Mal remained in a terrible conundrum now that her admittedly convenient reason for breaking up with Ben was gone. The truth was she could forgive Ben for kissing Evie when it was under the influence of her anti-inhibition spell. Hell, she would’ve kissed Evie. If they’d all been under the spell together, they could’ve had a very hot situation. But now that was the question: was Evie bewitched as well?

Mal would find that out later. For now, she’d return Ben’s attention to a key point for her. “But what about my magic?”

It hadn’t slipped her attention the way Ben took a subject about Mal and turned it into one about Evie.

“I think there’s a lot of good your magic could do for the kingdom, like what the Fairy Godmother does.”

Mal pursed her lips thoughtfully. “And if Wonderland ever attacked, then it’d be cool if I used my magic on them?”

Ben nodded, still holding her hands. “I hope it never comes to that, and we’d talk about it, but yeah. You’re the strongest person I know, and I think you could the greatest protector Auradon has ever had.”

She hummed thoughtfully, liking the sound of being Auradon’s protector. Queen, guardian, fairy — “And, hypothetically, what if I ever turned into a dragon?”

“Oh, uh—” Ben laughed “—just as long as you could turn back into a human. I don’t think dragon-sized beds would fit in the castle.”

Her hand squeezed his, because of course Ben would give the perfect answers. She didn’t want to lose him.

“I’ve missed your purple hair. You were beautiful blonde, but the purple is so much more you.”

Her hand instinctively ran through her smooth, curled tresses as she remembered Carlos’ hands on her face as he kissed her. Carlos, who thought she was breaking up with Ben right now, would be waiting for her at the school’s library to study for finals together.

Mal wondered how the hell she was supposed to climb out of this hole when it only went deeper.

Carlos had never felt so great going into finals. Historically, finals sent him into an anxious mess of intense studying from dawn to well past dusk. Holding on to his position as top of the class wasn’t easy, but Carlos needed to maintain his GPA to qualify for the A.A. Milne Honors Scholarship, his full ride ticket to Hundred Acre University. He’d been so proud of himself for being the sole recipient and taped the email on the side of the bookcase facing his bed.

On top of that, R.O.A.R. finals were next weekend. Auradon Prep would be taking on Camelot Prep, whose team was composed of descendants of the the famous Knights of the Round Table. Lonnie demanded daily practice. When Chad complained and said he needed time to study, she’d told him to give her an excuse she’d believe.

Carlos had so many reasons to be stressed out, but he wasn’t. He had no reason to be when Mal had kissed him before she’d left to go properly break up with Ben. The mere thought that it was really happening, that he and Mal were going to be a real couple, made him smile to himself while rewriting his notes for chemistry and pouring over dull scholarly articles on Values and Virtues.

Then Mal appeared, sitting next to him, and Carlos poorly hid how happy this made him. Whispering, he’d asked how things went with Ben, and she’d pressed a finger to her lips. For the rest of the hour, he readily let her copy his notes while he resisted touching her.

His good mood survived even the flash storm that hit him and Dude on their walk. The little dog trotted into the dorm room and gave himself a good shake, interrupted by an equally wet Carlos scooping him up in a towel. Carlos gave the wiggling dog a good rub down before releasing him onto the dog bed.

Carlos used the dry part of the towel to rub down his own hair, which fought the magical straightening spell to curl and kink just a little when damp. He pulled his shirt over his head, unsticking it from his skin, and changed into a dry outfit.

He noticed Jay sitting quietly on his bed as he read a letter. “Hey, what’s up?”

The taller boy sat up, eyebrows knitted together. “I got a letter from a scout for the Auradon Sports Association.”

Carlos’ easy smile disappeared. “What’d they say?”

Jay swallowed and hung his head, too disappointed to reply. Instead, he held up the letter which Carlos promptly snatched and read. The letter’s brief message took little time to consume.

“This is bullshit!” Carlos declared so angrily that Dude barked.

We regret to inform you that each kingdom’s official team may only accept athletes who are citizens of their respective kingdoms.

In the short letter on fancy, thick paper with the beastly seal of Auradon, that had been the damning line.

“What do they fucking expect you to do? Even if the Isle had the resources for even one sports team, Auradon would never let us compete!” Carlos went on heatedly while Jay sat, silent. “You should at least be considered a citizen of the fucking Lone Keep since your parents are!”

Carlos looked at his best friend, whose shoulders slumped. Finally, Jay spoke in a voice Carlos had never heard him use.

“It’s pointless.” He sounded so empty. “They’re not even letting me try out.”

Jay seemed unable to lift his head to look at Carlos. “It’s too late to apply for college, not that there’d be a point. Even if I played on a college team, I’d still get this same letter back if I tried again. And there’s no point going to college for a degree, because I’m not good at that stuff the way you are.” He sighed, face cracking in pain.

“Look, you, Mal, and Evie wouldn’t get it. Mal has the whole Queen of Auradon thing, Evie’s got her boutique, and you got all kinds of choices. I had one thing. And now—” Jay looked at his empty hands “—I’ve got nothing.”

“Hey.” Carlos plopped onto the bed beside him and set a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got me. We’ll figure it out, no matter how long it takes.”

Jay nodded, still reeling from the crushing disappointment and so close to graduation. “I don’t even know where to go now. The only other home we have is on the Isle.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything until I got confirmation we could do this,” Carlos hesitantly started. With a burst of energy, he rose to his feet. “So, I made a few calls earlier, first to my mom’s lawyers, then to Hell Hall — the real one outside Magical London, and I’m waiting on a call back.”

Jay looked at him strangely. “Why would you talk to your mom’s old staff? The whole point of your scholarship was so you didn’t have to touch her stuff.”

That had been Carlos’ plan until that morning. “Trust me, you’re not the only one asking where they’re supposed to go after we graduate. What I’m about to tell you has to stay between us.”

“Dude, when people tell me stuff, you’re the person I tell,” Jay said before Dude the dog mistook this as an invitation to jump on his lap.

While the other boy rubbed Dude’s sides as the little dog climbed up his chest, Carlos explained, “Mal is breaking up with Ben.”

Jay stopped petting Dude, who hopped down, claws clattering on the hardwood, and scurried back to his dog bed. “No way.”

“It’s true. So, she doesn’t know where she’s going after graduation either. And once my mom’s butler calls me back, I’m going to see if we can stay in her London townhouse. I’m not going to ask for staff or anything fancy, but it’ll be a place all of us can stay.”

The skeptical look Jay gave him wasn’t encouraging. “You seriously think Mal’s going to break up with Ben for you?”

That took Carlos by surprise, like having his legs swept out from under him, because yes, he believed exactly that. He knew it was brazen, but their moments together meant something. The way she touched him and kissed him wasn’t something either of them could just walk away from.

“Yes,” he told Jay, who frowned deeply. “Mal and I have a really strong connection. I know she’s not perfect, but I don’t want perfect. I want Mal.”

“Did she tell you she’s breaking up with Ben?”

“YES!” Carlos realized he’d come across too strong and self-consciously cleared his voice.

“Then she’s lying to you, man.” Jay sounded sad for him. “Believe me.”

Carlos refused. “You don’t get it. She caught Ben and Evie making out. There’s no coming back from that.”

“Unless they ate those spelled apples that were all over the place.” Before Carlos could determine how he knew, Jay added, “No one told me. I figured that out when the party got fun.”

He couldn’t believe this. “What happened to backing me up and congratulating me? What happened to saying Mal would be dumb not to choose me?”

“I meant it, but I’ve known Mal longer than you and Evie.”

‘You mean you were her first henchman,’ Carlos found himself angrily thinking.

“She’s playing you.”

Jay didn’t have all the details about him and Mal. He didn’t know what was between them.

Carlos wouldn’t budge. “She’s breaking up with him.”

Jay emphatically sighed and fell back on his bed, feet still on the ground. “She’s got you sounding so stupid.”

Carlos said nothing. Not having his best friend on his side sucked. Between the bad news and lack of faith, his happy bubble had been popped. Before he could tell Jay this, that he needed his support, Carlos’ cell phone vibrated. Checking the screen, he didn’t recognize the number except for the first few digits, a Magical London area code.

Hastily, Carlos pressed the phone to his ear and said hello.

A deep voice with a touch of rumble came from the other end. “Mr. De Vil, it’s a pleasure to meet at last. How can I be of service?”

The much older man didn’t speak with the enthusiastic warmth characteristic of Auradon royal servants. No, Carlos could easily imagine this voice issuing a subtle threat.

Growing up, he’d listened to his mother mention her butler, a man who’d saved her as a baby when her mother wanted her dead. Then he’d saved her again as an adult when her mother left her to perish in a burning building. He was the only living person who’d known Carlos’ grandfather, the baron from whom Carlos took his middle name.

“John, my mom always said good things about you.” A rare feat for his mother. “I can’t imagine working for my family was ever easy, but I appreciate it.” He felt self-conscious, wanting to explain he wasn’t contacting him out of greed or entitlement. “I’m not calling to take all of my mom’s money for myself.”

“I didn’t expect so, sir. Not when you’d obtained the A.A. Milne Honors Scholarship,” John replied. “An impressive accomplishment, sir.”

Carlos didn’t know whether to be more unnerved at being called sir or learning that John had been keeping an eye on him. “Y-yes—thanks.”

Jay watched him curiously, though Dude made no show of waking up from his puppy nap.

“I anticipate, with graduation upon you and your eighteenth birthday soon after, you are enquiring upon the resources your mother left you.”

Carlos forced himself not to say “um” or “yeah.” Such a person as John inspired proper English. Then he wondered that his mother would leave him anything at all. Cruella hadn’t so much as given him his own bedroom.

“What did she leave me?”

And how?

Honesty was like plucking eyebrow hairs, painful but could lead to something beautiful. Or at least, that’s how Evie reasoned with herself as she knocked on Mal’s door. She’d stopped by earlier, but Mal had been out. Part of Evie hoped she’d still be out, but she knew it’d be better to get this conversation over with.

In response to Evie’s light tapping came a flat, “I’m here.”

The door clicked open as Evie stepped inside. “Hey.” The door shut behind her.

Mal’s gaze flickered at her before returning down to the glass tank, where she filled her mother’s dish with dry food. Maleficent stood at the farthest corner with her back turned toward Mal, as if to give her the cold shoulder.

Two gowns hanging from the curtain rod caught Evie’s attention. The yellow and violet dresses contrasted in their colors, but even without knowing they were Carlos’ creations, she would’ve been able to tell they shared a maker. The violet dress did manage to outshine its sister with its eye-catching bodice studs, green piping, and faux-burnt hemlines. Love, care, and a spark of inspiration had gone into that dress.

“I saw you on the news last night, arriving at cotillion. You looked beautiful,” Evie warmly recalled. “I heard there’s a summer ball next month. I’m sure you’ll be able to wear the violet dress there.”

For Ben, she readied herself to ask the question burning on her mind. “Mal — did you spell anyone last night?” She needed to get to the bottom of this, for his own protection.

Mal sucked in a corner of her cheek as she mulled something over. The tank’s lid closed with a loud snap.

“Why do you think I spelled anyone, Evie? It’s not like I saw you there,” Mal said loftily, watching as her mother crawled toward her food dish.

She froze, trying to decipher if she was in danger or not. But she couldn’t be in danger, Evie reasoned. Mal was her friend.

“Was it something Ben told you? Because he left early. I was by myself.” Her fingers traced the tank’s sharp edge. “Because he was looking for you.”

Silence filled the space between them. Evie tried reading the situation, but fear clouded her mind.

Then perhaps mercifully, the other girl changed subject.

“I noticed you ditched the hat.” Mal eyed her horns before storing her mother’s dry food in the nightstand’s drawer. “How’s that working out?”

Evie kept her chin up and the waver out of her voice as she said, “No one’s said hi to me today.”

Each conversation that hushed when she approached, each uneasy stare that averted when she looked back was another needle driven into her. It was the way she entered the girls’ bathroom and the girls doing their make-up by the mirror cleared out with false eyelashes half on. It was in how everyone was talking about her, thinking about her, but refusing to reply to her hellos or good mornings.

“You know you’ll always have us,” Mal said, reaching out and capturing both of Evie’s hands. “Me, Carlos, and Jay will always have your back.”

A smile broke through her frown. “Thanks, Mal. I’m so glad I have you three.”

Her hands squeezed the taller girl’s. “Everything will be okay so long as we have each other.” Mal sounded so sure that Evie instantly felt better about the future. The four of them proved they could do anything and take on anyone together.

“So, why did you think I spelled anyone at cotillion?”

Her throat went dry.

“Well, actually, I did go. I ran into Ben on my way to the boat,” Evie carefully started, her hands still in Mal’s despite having loosened her own grip. “And I think — I know he was love spelled.”

Mal shook her head, blinking in apparent confusion. “Why would you think that?”

“Because he—he um—”

Goosebumps rose up her arms. Her body went cold, nearly shaking at the precipice of possibly ruining their friendship. ‘Don’t lie, don’t lie. Be honest. It’s okay.’

“Evie,” Mal started, examining her face, “You’re freaking out right now.”

“Um—” Evie stopped herself from biting her lower lip, or else she’d get lipstick on her teeth “—Mal, I have a confession to make. The reason I know he was under a love spell.”

She took a gulping breath.

“Ben kissed me.”

She waited for the ground to crumble.

“I know.”

Evie realized Mal’s grip on her hands had the steeliness of handcuffs.

“Y-you know?” Her heartbeat was in her throat. “Then do you know about the love spell? Who did it?”

“I know, because I walked in on you two.” Mal’s expression was cool, collected — unnerving. “Were you spelled too, Evie?”

“I—I don’t know—” She thought of how her thoughts had clouded over within seconds of lips touching. When she thought to break the kiss, her horns had been glowing. “Maybe a little?”

“Because you looked really into making out with your best friend’s boyfriend,” she ground out, jaw barely moving.

Her nose burned and voice choked with emotion. “But he didn’t mean any of it.”

“But you did.” Spoken so simply, so cruelly. “I knew it. I knew it as soon as you confessed to meeting up in secret with him, to going on midnight adventures together, and the way you jumped in the water for him.”

“I would’ve jumped for you too,” Evie asserted, stalwart and looking Mal directly in the eye.

The violet-haired girl swallowed. Slowly, her icy grip relinquished Evie’s hands.

It was this new freedom that gave Evie the courage she needed to ask, “Were you the one who love spelled Ben?”

Mal, annoyed, retorted, “Why would I? I don’t need to spell Ben to get him to love me. I never planned to spell him. Those apples were for the guests.”

Evie gasped, hands over her mouth. “Mal! You said you were giving up magic! You were supposed to change, remember? What happened to handing over your spellbook?” Her hands pressed over her own heart as it broke. “We’re supposed to be Auradon girls together!”

“Well how’s this,” Mal began, tone cutting as she proposed, “I forget you and Ben betraying me, and you forget I ever said anything about spelling those apples.”

It was a black market trade of treason.

“But why would you put a love spell on those apples?” Evie begged to know.

Mal crossed her arms. “They weren’t love spelled. It was an anti-inhibition spell.”

Wait.

“What?” Evie breathlessly asked, her mind racing at what this could mean.

“I just wanted to have fun at my own party,” Mal said, her voice too high and innocent. She stuck out her hand. “So I forget you and Ben kissing behind my back, you forget what I just said, and we can go back to the way things were. Because let’s face it, Evie, we all need each other.”

Her mind spun. ‘Anti-inhibition spell—Ben—could it mean—?’ She was scared to hope.

“And one other thing.”

Evie whipped her attention back to Mal.

“I love Ben,” the Lady of the Court reminded her. “And you’re my best friend. I never want that to change. So—” Mal stepped into Evie’s space “—I need you to promise me you’ll never be alone with Ben ever again. No calling or texting. Nothing. Or else we’re done.”

Tears burned in the corners of her eyes, and she could’ve sworn Mal zeroed in on them.

“I—”

Ben, the boy who risked his life fighting pirates and shrieking eels for her, who accepted her and defended her, slipped from her fingers. Evie knew she couldn’t alienate herself from her friends or risk scandal, especially now that she’d revealed her horns to an icy public.

“—I promise.”

Chapter Text

“This whole week sucks.”

And it was Tuesday.

Evie quietly nodded as she listlessly chewed her arugula salad. Jay sat across from her with only gravy and a few string beans left on his plate, everything else devoured within minutes of sitting at their end of the long oak table that stretched the length of the dining hall. The nearest students sat nine seats down, far away as they could manage. No one sat at the end of the table horizontal to theirs. Wherever Evie went, it was like a bubble around her kept everyone else away.

Quietly, despite having no one nearby to eavesdrop, she said, “I’ve already had a teacher send me to the Headmistress’ office.”

Jay looked incredulous. “For what?”

She smiled bitterly, voice breaking. “You know for what.” Evie had told the teacher that the Headmistress was aware of her horns, but she’d been sent out anyway for her appearance disrupting the class. “I didn’t even get to finish my calculus final. I spent the whole class period sitting outside the Fairy Godmother’s office. I have to stay late today and complete my final then.”

Jay shook his head, shoulders tensing as he lowly said, “This is bullshit. They’re just horns. Back on the Isle, no one would even care.”

Evie kept her head down and caught another leaf between the fork’s tines. She chewed and swallowed. “How are you doing since Saturday?”

She didn’t want to say ‘since R.O.A.R. finals,” as if those words were cursed. Jay stabbed a skinny green bean and took out some frustration by chewing it.

“Not exactly how I wanted to end my sports career at Auradon Prep,” he mumbled.

The Auradon Prep Knights had lost on their home turf. The sons and daughters of the Knights of Camelot fought at another level. Evie could hardly watch the matches. Despite their recent conversation, she sat with Mal, and they shared a box of popcorn to stare into when the tension became too much.

“Lonnie tried giving Chad a pep talk after his first bout. She told him to have the ‘strength of a great typhoon,’ and he said he’s never even seen one,” Jay recalled with a small laugh that didn’t leave his chest.

Evie nodded, remembering how the blond boy put up the best fight he could, but the other boy had been training to fight dragons some day, and it showed.

Her nerves frayed watching Jay duel the son of Lancelot. She didn’t know if she or Mal had been the one to upset their popcorn on the students in front of them when Jay took the losing hit. The memory made Evie reach out and comfortingly touch his wrist.

“Lonnie’s pissed we lost. Said this was going to hurt her chances at getting on the Northern Wei team.” Jay shook his head, brow furrowing until a deep line formed between them.

“Yeah,” Evie said, setting her fork aside on the tray. “I overheard that.”

She and Mal had left the bleachers to follow the R.O.A.R. team after they left the gym and went into a hallway that led to the locker rooms. Jay had already told them about the rejection letter, and she’d worried this might affect his performance. Now it had, and the whole team looked dispirited. They’d wanted to check in on Jay but instead walked in on a fight.

“How could we choke so bad?!” Lonnie had demanded to the team of boys, sweat plastering their hair to their foreheads and necks. “We practiced every day! Oh my gosh, they might not let me on the Northern Wei team for this!”

Captain versus captain, Lonnie had lost to the daughter of two notably famous knights, Lady Kayley and Sir Garrett. Her penchant for flips and overconfidence gave the shorter brunette the openings she’d needed to seize victory.

Jay’s biceps had flexed as he gripped his sword and protective mask. “At least you get the chance to try out!”

“I’m not exactly getting handed the chance, Jay! I’ve worked hard for everything I have!”

Then Carlos had spoken up, nastily saying, “Maybe you would’ve won your match if you’d reminded everyone your mom won a war! It’s your signature move!”

Mal and Evie had started walking faster, sensing how quickly this was spiraling.

“You’ve got a big mouth for someone whose mom is a puppy killer!” Lonnie had said, advancing on him.

“And so do you considering your only accomplishment is who her mother is!”

A fight broke out. Chad had jumped out of the way while Jay, Aziz, and the rest of the team tried separating the two.

“Go back to the Isle!” Lonnie had shouted at Carlos, the words lingering like a nightmare in Evie’s mind.

“Go cry to your mom! Maybe she’ll bake cookies for you!” Carlos sarcastically spat back.

And now Lonnie was giving all the VKs the cold shoulder. That didn’t bother Evie, who expected nothing less from an Auradon kid at this point.

‘They’d been so welcoming when we first got here.’ Evie realized both she and Jay were sadly contemplating their lunch trays.

Why did the gobs of free candy turn to ash, and why did fascination turn to disgust? Lonnie and other girls jumped at the chance for Mal to work her literal magic on their hair. Why should her horns be any different? Did the horns make her hideous, Evie wondered, or was it that Mal’s magic could be useful while the horns did nothing? Except, they did somehow connect to summoning the Spirit of the Magic Mirror and were doing something that night Ben kissed her.

More than once, Evie wondered if the spell over Ben transferred to her during the kiss. Perhaps the magic inside of her resisted the spell, freeing her. She knew so little about magic, and the one person she could readily ask, well, Evie avoided so much as saying ‘cotillion’ to Mal.

Really, Evie avoided reminiscing on the whole night. Her avoidance approach worked until the clock struck 2 AM, and the canopy of her bed turned into a movie screen. Her mind became the projector, replaying how she’d stepped out of the carriage and into his arms. With his whole heart, Ben called her wonderful and said he couldn’t stop thinking about their time together.

And he meant it. It wasn’t a love spell. The bewitched apple freed his tongue, and he meant every single word.

Evie hadn’t spoken to him since. She felt emptier each day.

Because she never wanted to go even a day without him.

‘Mal’s…so lucky.’

Evie wanted to go back in time and shake herself for boldly introducing herself to Ben first only to demure to Audrey’s barb. ‘Keep your head up,’ she wanted to tell her younger self. ‘Be yourself, and forget the big welcome party, the fancy school, and the way Doug looks at you. Focus on Ben or we’ll lose him here and now forever.’

She slid her hand away from Jay when a welcomed distraction approached them. Mal and Carlos, trays in hand, spoke in hushed tones that died the moment they came close enough to be heard. It was the first time that day Evie heard whispers and could trust they weren’t about her.

‘But what were they talking about?’ Whatever it was, she and Jay were being left out. ’Strange.’

The four all said quiet, “heys” to each other. Mal and Carlos hesitated before separating, with Carlos sitting next to Evie and Mal beside Jay.

Observing Carlos’ cheek, Evie said, “Are you sure you don’t want me to hide the bruise?”

He shrugged moodily. “Lonnie isn’t hiding hers.”

What happened in the hallway stayed between the team. No one wanted trouble going into finals week and graduation. Evie breathed a sigh of relief for Carlos’ sake. After his show dueling Ben at Castle Beast, he didn’t need any more negative attention that made him look rash and violent. Evie frowned, because the way he argued with Lonnie wasn’t the boy she knew.

“Is everything all right?” she asked him.

Evie watched Mal’s eyes go from Carlos to her.

As Carlos shrugged in response without making eye contact with anyone, Doug appeared in his staple pastel and khaki attire. Everyone looked at him as he let out a great exhale, as if he’d taken a long breath while getting the nerve to walk up to them. In his hands, he protectively clenched a ledger in front of his chest.

“Hi.”

Doug looked at everyone except Evie first. Jay looked put off that he’d even come over; Mal crossed her arms and looked doubtful he had anything interesting to say; Carlos, the bluish bruise on his cheek making him appear less friendly, flatly stared and waited for Doug to disappear. Clearly, whatever friendship had been there dissipated with the relationship and with news of how Doug reacted to her horns.

“Um—” Doug opened the ledger and slide it near Evie, who pushed aside her try for a better look. “So I’ve been meaning to give you the ledger I used for all of the Four Hearts Boutique orders.”

That he’d brought it without her asking saved Evie the uncomfortable task of seeking him out. “Why is there so much red?” Her relief turned to dread. Red marks represented losses.

“Well—it’s not—um—”

“Spit it out,” Mal commanded.

Doug rushed to get through it. “People are canceling their orders.” He shook his head, making his voice wobble. “And I tried telling them that I’m not part of Four Hearts Boutique, but they—well—they just—”

“They don’t want to talk to me.” Evie’s eyes ran over the columns, seeing cancellation after cancellation. By the last row, there were no orders left.

“I did the math,” Doug miserably continued. He pointed to a sum at the bottom right corner. “That’s how much you’re losing on materials.” His finger trailed to another below it. “That’s how much you’re losing on labor—”

“I know how to read this,” Evie said, managing to keep her voice even. “Thank you, Doug.”

She didn’t look at him, and he took his cue to amble away with his head down. Being mean wasn’t her intention, but if she’d been warm or vulnerable, Evie knew she’d cry in public, in front of a dining hall full of students who’d turned their backs on her.

When she sniffled, Evie realized how badly she was losing the battle to keep her composure. She willed herself to pull it together, to hold her chin up and sit up straight.

‘I’m losing everything.’

The sharp pain her chest from the mere thought nearly made her gasp.

‘Ben, my boutique — my friends are all I have left.’

Carlos leaned closer to her, whispering, “Growing up, if I was trying not to cry, I’d recite the periodic table of elements.”

Evie nodded but said nothing, her jaw tightly shut. Carlos grabbed the business ledger and poured over it while the other two leaned and turned this heads to make out what it said.

“Close it,” Evie said, her voice barely reaching them over the clanging of silverware and muted dining hall chatter. “I don’t want to look at it anymore.”

Carlos immediately did just that and asked, “Did you take deposits?”

She blinked, trying to think. “What? No. Why would I?”

“My mom always made people put down a deposit to cover materials and some labor,” Carlos explained. “And if people canceled after a certain amount of time, then she also made them pay a cancelation fee.”

“I—” Evie never thought to adopt such business practices, because she’d assumed Auradonians would honor an agreement “—I thought people here wouldn’t do that. I thought people here were kinder than that.”

Evie knew no one was perfect, but she also believed Auradon truly was a post-happily ever after society. Kingdoms based around the same values and virtues would surely raise their kids to behave better.

Mal licked creme brûlée off her spoon. “You didn’t really think that, or else you wouldn’t have worked so hard to hide your horns. You had to have seen this one coming. You just didn’t want to admit it to yourself.”

Both of them tried acting like they didn’t know the other’s secret betrayal, but Evie could tell Mal struggled. It showed in the little ways, the looks, the occasional indifferent comment just like that one.

Carlos grabbed the porcelain ramekin when Mal’s spoon went for a second dip.

“Hey!”

“Be more sensitive,” he chastised her, surprising Evie. “Or better yet, work on a solution.”

Mal shrugged, scowling. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

He leaned forward, keeping his voice down. “Start with not throwing it back in Evie’s face.”

The violet-haired girl glanced aside and leaned back in her seat, arms crossed. Evie watched their interaction with no small amount of fascination for their new dynamic.

The person to act first was the last to speak. “This is bullshit.” Jay’s gloved hand grabbed the ledger. “They can’t keep doing this to us, not after how hard Evie worked for this.”

That’s all he had to say before pushing his chair back, the legs screeching on the hardwood. Pushing his tray aside, Jay climbed up onto the table, each step causing it to shudder and trays to rattle. Jay standing over the entire dining hall gained the attention of every eye in the dining hall.

“Listen up!” Jay shouted in his captain voice over the swiftly dying chatter. He held up the ledger. “If you canceled an order with Evie’s boutique, you owe the cancellation fee before the end of the day! Cash only!”

Whispers started up, but Jay wasn’t done. “I’ve got a whole list of names right here!”

Gordon, Doug’s cousin from Grumpy’s side of the family, stood up. “What kind of business has a cancelation fee?!”

Evie realized her heart was racing when Carlos shoved his chair back and climbed up onto the table to stand beside Jay.

“The kind that has to deal with customers like you,” Carlos shot back. “Next time you place an order with a fashion house — assuming your parents can afford it — check their policies. Every one of them has a cancellation fee or a deposit.”

More discontent came from another table, a cluster of girls including Genie’s daughter, Jordan, who also stood up. “We’re allowed to cancel our orders! That’s how a free society works!”

Jay crossed his arms, not losing his cool. If anything, he looked confident and relaxed, a natural leader in a growing storm of disagreement. Evie was so proud of him. She thought he’d deserved to stay team captain.

“No one’s saying you can’t cancel your order,” Jay said, loud and calm. “But you gotta’ deal with the consequences.”

Carlos, grabbed the ledger from Jay, quickly scanned the numbers of the canceled orders and said, “Everyone who canceled their order after 48 hours of placing it owe a quarter of their final payment.”

Evie sharply inhaled as a roar of yelling about the unfairness rose up. A teacher might come investigate, find the VKs at the center of the disturbance, and all of them would get in trouble. She felt herself starting to sweat and looked to Mal, wondering if the other girl shared in her anxiety.

On the contrary, Mal leaned back in her chair and regarded Carlos as if he couldn’t get any better.

‘What is going on?’

Jay frowned and exchanged glances with Carlos, who took a moment to think before his eyes lit up with a plan. “Everyone except Lonnie!”

The student body quieted, either confused or curious. Some people looked around for Lonnie, and about a dozen heads turned to find her, annoyed at being spotlighted.

A corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Who canceled her order for a pantsuit to preemptively celebrate winning against the Camelot team. As a show of sympathy for losing, Four Hearts Boutique is waiving the fee for her.”

Mal’s lips pulled back in a malicious grin at his ploy, which a pink-faced Lonnie instantaneously reacted to. “I don’t need sympathy! I’ll pay your stupid fee!”

“Awesome. We’re open for payments,” Carlos coolly retorted while Jay hopped down from the table with a grin and went over to Lonnie, who’d gotten her wallet out.

He wasn’t done. “You still owe Evie for alterations too.”

Lonnie paused while pulling out gold coins and looked at him. Evie noticed the bruise on her arm from where Carlos had grabbed her when she’d punched him. Then, the R.O.A.R. team captain resumed counting her coins to hand over to Jay.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Evie swallowed how guilty she felt enacting this policy, because they were right. This was all made up on the spot. She didn’t want to run her boutique this way, but if she didn’t let Carlos and Jay collect, then there would be no boutique anymore.

Carlos stepped down and joined Jay in going down the list of students and getting fees on the spot. Pin panicked and claimed he’d have the money later, and Jay gave him until after dinner before Carlos would add a late fee. Ally, who’d planned to use her allowance to pay for a fancy graduation dress before canceling it, cried about the payment. Carlos told her she could choose not to cancel, causing Ally to quit her tears and hand her gold coins over.

Evie turned back to her lunch and forced herself to stop watching. She tore bites off a buttered roll to busy herself. Mal watched the show, elbows on the table and chin resting on her intertwined fingers. When the boys finally returned to the table, Mal reached over to Carlos’ tray and scooped up a spoonful of the creme brûlée he’d stolen.

A flat-bottomed drawstring bag dropped with a clatter of coins in front of Evie. She picked it up in amazement and felt how close it was to bursting.

“There ya’ go,” Jay said, looking in much higher spirit. “Your cancellation fees and some extra alterations Carlos threw in.”

Opening the bag, a sea of gold coins swam inside. “Oh my gosh,” she gasped, careful to keep her voice down. “It’s so much.” Her amazement dimmed as she realized, “No one is going to order from me ever again.”

Carlos checked the time on his cell phone and began wrapping up his burger in a napkin to-go. “They obviously weren’t planning to make any future orders, so you’ll need to find a new market anyway.”

The bell rang, signaling the end to the lunch period and a return to an afternoon full of final exams. Chairs clattered as students rose and dumped their leftovers into trash cans. The Core Four did the same, leaving their emptied trays on one of a dozen carts so their cutlery could be washed. Except Mal hung back and pressed her hand down on Carlos’ shoulder, making him lean toward her so she could whisper something in his ear. He grinned bashfully to whatever she’d said.

Evie waited for him to catch up, as they had a chem final together. Exiting the dining hall, they waved their goodbyes to Mal and Jay.

When the flow of students pouring from the dining hall thinned out as they proceeded through the halls, Evie asked, “What was Mal saying to you?”

“Oh, uh—” He rubbed his neck. "She wants to study later.”

“You're a great study partner,” she said warmly.

"Uh yeah, Mal thinks I am," he said, turning redder.

"Hey, I want to thank you again. I couldn't ask for better friends than you and Jay," Evie said, her heart full for both of them. The coins weighed down her heart-shaped purse, making her feel secure. “Now, if I can focus on finals, then I can worry about what to do next.”

“I—” Carlos checked around them for anyone overly curious. Students either power walked past them with flashcards in their hands or hurried to their classrooms to cram last minute studying “—I don’t think you need to worry. I have a plan for us after graduation, but I was holding off on saying anything until John said the lawyers had everything settled. That should be by the day before graduation—”

Evie stopped at the exit to the outdoor quad. “Lawyers? Who’s John?”

“My mom’s people,” Carlos hurriedly explained, surreptitiously glancing around. “John was my mom and my grandfather’s butler. He says I’ll get my inheritance when I turn eighteen. Somehow — he wasn’t really straightforward with me — she left me a trust fund and a bunch of other stuff in my name.”

Evie froze, mind racing. Ever since they’d been brought to Auradon, Ben ensured each VK was given a living stipend every month through graduation. He’d apologized for the modest amount, but Evie had understood the royal advisors may have talked him down to a lower amount. The understanding was that their parents had no way to support them, nothing to offer. Everything they’d had of value was seized by King Beast upon their exile to the Isle. Auradon’s citizens could go view their personal possessions behind pristine glass for free.

Except, Cruella had outsmarted the king and all his men. Besides a wax figure, nothing of hers could be found at the museum.

“Is this even legal?” she asked, to which Carlos shrugged. “Everything was supposed to be—”

“Stolen,” Carlos finished, though that wasn’t quite the way Evie planned to word it. “By Beast and his royal lackeys. Look, honestly, I don’t care. I’m thinking about us.” He stepped closer, voice going even quieter. “John said we can move into my mom’s London townhouse right after graduation. He’s already getting it ready for us. You can start the boutique all over again in London. They’re a fashion capital.”

Not that Evie needed to be told. The very idea of attending London Fashion Week! Or the Contempo Gala! Her mind felt dizzy with excitement just imagining visiting the great fashion houses. She could start an online boutique, so she could build a name for herself again without her horns getting in the way. Maybe people would care even less there. They’d had an underground punk movement for decades, and those looks were far more extreme.

“You, Jay, and Mal can live there full time, and I can make the hour drive over the weekends to come back,” Carlos added, talking faster. “Then I’ll turn eighteen, get my full inheritance, and the four of us can figure it out from there.”

She blinked away visions of herself in Magical London. “Wait, the four of us?”

That made no sense with Mal moving into Castle Beast after graduation. Evie heard from Ruby, Rachel’s sister, how Queen Belle lovingly prepared a room just for Mal. Evie had asked Mal for a tour, but Mal brushed off the request, saying it was just a room.

Carlos cleared his voice and glanced around them at the empty hallway. “Yeah, the four of us.” His voice went as low as it could. “I’ve already told Jay, but Mal broke up with Ben.”

It was as if someone took the hallway and flipped it so the floor switched positions with the ceiling. Evie thought she was falling, yet she stayed upright. She couldn’t even tell if her body was hot or cold or both.

Mal, who’d told her to stay away from Ben, was breaking up with him? And she was divulging this to Carlos and not to the entire group?

“Mal and I were late, because she was updating me on the plan,” Carlos went on. “Breaking up now would be a PR nightmare, so they’re going to delay announcing it for a while. Until then, to save face for the royal family, they’re going to act like everything is normal.”

When she found her voice, it was tense. “She’s lying.”

His enthusiasm died, and an invisible wall suddenly separated them. “You don’t have any proof she is.”

Evie shook her head, staring at him, silently pleading for him to listen. “Either she lied to me about loving him or she’s lying to you about breaking up.”

She didn’t mean for it to be such a slap to him. The intense disbelief and protectiveness radiating from him left Evie feeling more distant than ever from her first real friend.

An icy revelation raced through her veins. “That’s why we haven’t talked about this together as a group. Mal didn’t want us comparing notes on what she’s been saying.”

Carlos emphatically shook his head, clearly about to deny the logical conclusion staring him in the face when the heavy door to the quad pushed open. Chad entered the hall with a loud yawn into his fist.

When he saw them, he rubbed his eyes and said, “Aw man, at least I’m not the only one who’s gonna be late.”

Carlos checked his phone. “We’ve got another five minutes, Chad. What were you doing? Sleeping?”

The curly-haired boy gestured at himself. “How am I supposed to get through finals without my afternoon nap?”

Carlos didn’t know how to fathom Chad. “Like the rest of us. Do you ever feel anxious about anything? Ever?”

“I mean...” Chad put his hands on his hips and actually seemed to ponder this. “Not really? My grandpa — on my dad’s side, ‘cause my mom’s side is dead — uh he said he talked to the dean of admissions at ol’ Hundy Acre, and let’s just say this guy—” Chad gestured at himself with both thumbs “—has no worries about finals.”

Sometimes, she could hardly believe this is who she chased after her first week at Auradon Prep. She hoped everyone else forgot about that embarrassing episode of her life.

Carlos translated that before Evie could, a skill built from too much time with the prince. “Wait. You got into Hundred Acre University?”

Chad snorted. “Well duh. How else would we be roommates?”

Evie’s hand covered her mouth as her eyes, wide as they could go, looked at a stunned Carlos. “What?”

“Yup,” Chad bragged, grinning. “My grandpa donated loads of money to ol’ Hundy Acre—”

“Stop calling it that! It’s one of the most prestigious universities in Auradon!”

Chad was all smiles as he ignored Carlos. “And not only does that mean my spot is secured, but I also got us the best student apartment on campus — top floor at Heffalump Heights! It’s actually meant for four people at a time, but grandpa bought out the other two suites, so it’s all ours! And if you didn’t already know, it’s on Woozle Way, which is THE party street!”

Carlos’ expression twisted between shock and horror. “What are you even studying?!”

Chad declared his major with astounding casualness considering his answer was, “Political science with a minor in geology.”

Evie half-nodded, her chin going up to be polite but stalling when she couldn’t make sense of either subjects for Chad.

Carlos voiced it. “Why geology?”

Chad shrugged. “I like rocks.”

The VK slow turned to look at Evie, who lifted her fingers away from her mouth to show Carlos her amused smile at Chad’s expense.

“Okay,” Carlos said, clearly putting a lid on his outward astonishment. “But why do you want to even be my roommate? You don’t like me. You want us to go back to the Isle too, right?”

“Uhh not anymore,” Chad condescended as if their positions in the class rankings were switched. “Lonnie only said that because she lost her match after you won yours. And believe me, I know all about being petty.”

“Thanks, Chad,” Carlos hesitantly offered as a means to end this conversation. “You would be the expert on petty.”

“Thanks!” Chad said with a smile at the compliment. Then it fell. “Wait, was this five minutes?”

Evie checked her watch. “No— it was seven!”

The three sprinted off toward the science wing with Chad skidding into anatomy while Carlos and Evie raced into advanced chem. Mr. Deley looked unimpressed seeing two bright students late, but he merely handed a test to Carlos then hesitated at the sight of Evie.

“Miss—uh— have you seen the nurse about—?” His finger circled the top of his head, unintentionally drawing attention to his bald spot.

Evie slid the thick test packet out of his hand. “I feel fine. Thanks.”

Taking her seat at a black topped lab table, wrote her name at the top in swooping letter and forced thoughts of Ben, her boutique, and the conversation she’d just had with Carlos out of her mind. Barely a foot away, she wondered if he was questioning Mal.

The screech of a stool jolted her back to the present. Hap, Happy’s son, had just scooted his stool inches away from her.

Evie determinedly set to work on the first question, ready for this week to be over so she can move to Magical London with her friends — even if one of them is a liar.

Having the Royal Cotillion right before finals and graduation was the worst possible idea, Ben fumed to himself. Since cotillion, his limited free time became non-existent. The King of Auradon could score nothing less than an A+ in every subject, yet that same king could not shirk royal duties and meetings to spending extra time studying. Ben went to bed at midnight after spending hours bent over his text books like a candy cane. He knew Mal must have been feeling the same stress too as future queen, because she’d not said a word of complaint when he explained he had no time to see her until finals were over.

The last day of finals and two days before graduation, Ben awoke sideways on his bed, where he’d laid down with the idea it was a quick nap before he’d get up to properly get ready for bed. With a sleepy groan, he fished his phone from his pocket to check the time. A red bubble showed him missed notifications.

He sighed, scrolling. Still no response from Evie.

‘Are you doing okay?’ She’d not even read it.

Spying Jay across the quad the other day, Ben hurried out of his way to catch him and ask if he’d seen Evie, if she was okay.

“Yeah, she’s cool. Broke up with Doug, but she’s good,” Jay had responded as if asked what Evie had eaten for lunch. Ben had wanted to ask him that if she was okay, then why wasn’t she responding to him? How could she be okay when he’d heard about her more than he’d seen her?

Ben pushed himself with renewed vigor at the plan. He pulled off yesterday’s clothes and abandoned them in the hamper, even that sporting the royal crest. He showered and dressed quickly into a pair of royal blue linen trousers and a lighter blue button-up. He shrugged on a matching blazer then stole one of the roses from a vase in his room for the buttonhole.

Checking his watch, Ben grinned to himself as he swiped his school satchel by the strap and strode out the door ten minutes before Cogsworth was set to appear with his daily schedule. He could hardly be at fault for missing meetings if he didn’t know they were happening.

Servants and guards curtsied or bowed as he swiftly passed, giving each of them a friendly nod hello. The morning air and lavender sky called him out of Castle Beast, toward Evie and answers he needed to hear.

After a morning of final exams, that is. Though Ben wished he could have gone on to attend Hundred Acre University, he felt no small relief that he’d no longer have to balance academic life with kingly duties.

When lunch period came, Ben wasted no time patrolling the halls in search of Evie. , he passed conversations in the school hallways that led to more questions.

“I can’t believe you’re actually on their side.” Ruby shook her head, making her short brown hair hit her cheeks. “He and Jay basically robbed the cafeteria using a made-up policy!”

Pin, holding his and Ruby’s bags, adjusted his brow line glasses after nodding. “They were acting like bullies, like all this time in Auradon didn’t fix them at all. If they can’t be rehabilitated, then they need to go back to the Isle.”

Rachel pushed her long braid over her shoulder and closed her locker. “Well, I don’t think it was nice how everyone canceled on Evie like that either. It’s sweet that Carlos and Jay were trying to help her—”

“She has horns. You know who else who has horns? Maleficent!” Ruby waved her book, trying to get her point through her sister’s head. “It’s probably a sign that she’s going to—”

“Going to do what?” Ben forcefully asked, turning on his heel and striding over to them. When Ruby’s jaw sealed shut, he used his best king voice. “What would Evie, who’s only ever been kind to everyone, do now that she has horns?”

Ruby shifted uncomfortably, arms crossing over her teal dress. “I’m not the only person who’s on edge and thinks it’s a sign that evil is returning to Auradon.”

“Aren’t you worried at all, Ben?” Pin asked nervously.

Something hot and powerful coursed through Ben when he said, “I never want to hear Evie’s name associated with evil.”

Pin’s eyebrows shot up, making his glasses slide down his nose. “But her name is literally a play on the word ‘evil’—”

“It’s short for Evelyn!”

The hallway went silent as students stopped at every end to stare, and teachers popped their heads out from their classrooms. Ben self-consciously cleared his voice but kept his back straight, chin up. He felt terrible losing his temper, especially when it made Rachel cower against her locker.

“Sorry,” he uttered to her, feeling like a monster. To Ruby and Pin, he said, “This conversation is over.”

Ruby’s shoulders hunched as she tightly hugged herself. “I’ll say it is.”

Ben resisted the urge to snap back, instead managing to evenly reply, “Good luck with finals” before taking the quickest exit he could, out into the quad.

One more final exam, then Evie could begin to put Auradon Prep, all of the good and the bad, behind her. Then she’d have to face her own problems. By the time she unraveled the web, she wondered what her future would look like, who would be in her life and who would leave. Evie wanted to believe in Carlos’ London plan, but he worried her every time she saw him and Mal together. They kept their voices low and heads bent near each other.

‘But she’s lying to one of us.’ Evie’s stomach turned thinking of what this could do to Carlos. ‘Why would you tell him you’re breaking up with Ben? And why would you lie? You have Ben. You’ll be queen someday. What is there left that you could want?’

Evie surveyed the contents of her school tray, her last lunch period at Auradon Prep. She sat alone on a cold set of stone steps leading up into the science wing. Jay was spending lunch with his teammates. Most of them were leaving after the very last exam period. Carlos had texted her that he and Mal would be studying in his dorm.

When she’d picked up her tray in the cafeteria, she walked past table after table, full of eyes suspiciously watching her should she try sitting at their table. Evie took the hint and went outside, even though she hated eating where bugs could get in her food. The few metal picnic tables were all occupied, and she didn’t even dare ask the tables where there was room for one more.

She shifted, her skirt not providing nearly enough cushion and the stone indenting itself onto her exposed skin as she balanced her tray. Her heels awkwardly scraped against the steps in search of a natural position that didn’t twist her ankles. This was the worst lunch period she’d ever had in Auradon, including back when everyone except Ben and Doug hated the VKs.

‘At least this is the last time.’

Not that the same could be said for Mal doing magic.

Evie wished she could do-over her conversation with Mal about Ben and the spelled cotillion guests. She wished she hadn’t backed down so easily and pushed for a real explanation from her. When Evie allowed herself, her blood boiled thinking how Mal went back on giving up magic and so quickly. She hadn’t even tried.

‘We just want to help you,’ she implored the Mal in her mind, who’d turned the conversation around on Evie. Her own guilt turned against her, she’d crumbled and promised something she immediately wanted to go back on.

Ben’s messages on her phone may have been muted, but she still saw the notifications.

For the first time in her life, Evie intended to break a promise. Mal had taken power during their conversation, but Evie planned to take it back, in time.

‘The only person she doesn’t seem to be holding at arm’s length is Carlos.’ But he was too loyal to Mal to hear Evie out. ‘And she’s not telling him everything either.’

The violet dress, the argument, the looks, the whispering, the closed door of Mal’s dorm — everything flashed through her mind. Her gulp of lemonade barely made it down her throat. Her hand pressed to her chest to keep it from erupting over her salad and breadsticks.

‘I’ve been so blind!’

Evie realized if she went to Mal’s dorm right now, there wouldn’t be a textbook in sight. She didn’t have proof, but she couldn’t ignore the obvious signs any longer.

Mal leaning close to Carlos and gently saying, “But you do make me happy.”

Mal reconciling with Ben then in the same minute turning to Carlos and imploring, “I’m sorry. For everything.”

Oh, and now Evie knew just what ‘everything’ meant.

Mal was having an affair with Carlos.

‘Why would you do this?’ Hollow dread filled her. She wanted to deny it until she had irrefutable proof, but she could no longer ignore what a viable conclusion this was.

Evie couldn’t bring herself to fully blame Carlos for his part in it. Perhaps it was because he’d always been comparatively guileless to the rest of the group. He was also the baby who’d never been in a relationship before. She kept a soft spot in her heart for the boy whose kindness on her first day of school had nothing to do with her looks. And ever since her first visit to Hell Hall, when she’d seen the old mattress he slept on without even a pillow or blanket to comfort him, she’d wanted to help him.

Wrapping her breadsticks in a napkin to shove into her bag, Evie hauled herself up and tossed her lunch in the trash can, leaving her tray on top. Each step felt shaky. The magic, the cheating, the lying — Mal had ruined her own life.

‘But Ben wouldn’t send her back to the Isle—would he?’ No, but his royal advisors might insist it. No matter how kind Ben was, treason could not go unpunished.

‘But then how would that affect the VK program? What if this got out, and people thought we shouldn’t be trusted anymore?’ She couldn’t even see the grass or the emptied picnic tables as her worries crescendoed. ‘What if they think it’s too much of a risk if even one VK was bad?’

Her heart beat reached her ears. ‘I’ll convince her to confess to everything. If she learned her lesson and apologized, then maybe we could quietly resolve this as a group. None of the kids have to be left on the Isle.’

The question remained as to what would happen. Ben was so kind and forgiving that he might not break-up with Mal. They might stay together.

‘I shouldn’t feel so afraid of them staying together.’ Her heart thudded. ‘But I am.’

Deep in her Isle-born bones, she wanted Ben. Her nose and eyes burned with unshed tears at the idea of him marrying Mal. The part of her that was still the little girl trapped in a decaying castle cried that she’d already spent so many years wishing for someone just like him.

A heavy door opened with a bang, bringing Evie back to the quad. Wind whipped the springy grass, catching an abandoned napkin. Hair flew in her face, tangling in her horns. She turned toward the wind and swept her hair back into place. Her fingers dragged from her scalp, down the blue strands, then through the ends.

Her hands fell to her sides.

Ben went from storming down the stairs to freezing, eyes going wide at the unexpected sight of her. “Evie!”

His footsteps clattered noisily in his rush to stand before her. He freed an errant strand twisted around a horn without pulling her hair. Smoothing it, his tense energy visibly lifted with a smile.

“Hey. I’ve missed you.” So much weight hid in those simple words.

“I’ve been wanting to talk.” About anything, but now, Evie debated with herself.

‘I could tell him everything right now. I could betray Mal like she’s done to us.’ But her heart whispered, ‘I’m not that kind of girl.’

She gave Mal better than she deserved, but mercy was never earned.

Evie looked at Ben, his blue eyes that made the sky look dull by comparison. Having grown up among people who always kept their true feelings guarded, she loved watching his emotions freely swimming in that azure ocean. Evie specialized in blues, and his eyes were her favorite.

‘I’m done wishing I’d said or done things differently.’ Her heart tugged for all those moments she’d let herself down. ‘I don’t want another regret.’

“Hey,” Ben slowly started, stepping closer. “I’m worried about you. I know people are being awful, and you shouldn’t be treated like this.”

He bit his lip as her eyes briefly cast downward. “Ben—I want you to know—” She looked back up at him “—Mal is—she doesn’t want us to be alone anymore.”

He shook his head, confused. “What does Mal have to do with this?”

“Everything. She’s Lady of the Court. You might marry her someday.”

If Mal listened to Evie and confessed everything to Ben, he probably would accept her apology. After all, he’d laughed so good-naturedly and became endeared when a guilt-ridden Mal tried undoing her already undone love spell. Even Mal’s little pranks, like replacing Rachel’s paints with colored Jell-O and gluing a straw to the end of Pin’s nose, were met with chortles from Ben.

“And maybe she’s right. Maybe I should stay away from you—” She crossed that line “—Because I’m in love with you.”

Wishing for the past to change never changed her present. Evie knew what Ben meant to her, and speaking it now left her exhilarated and dizzy, as if she stood on a mountain top.

“I—me?” Ben blinked several times, as if checking he was awake. He scanned their surroundings for any listening ears then returned his focus on her. “For how long?”

Evie couldn’t read his reaction beyond disbelief, so she kept speaking. “I think ever since I jumped into the water to save you. I didn’t tell you this, because I knew you already felt terrible—” She self-consciously tucked her hair behind her ear “—but I—I think I nearly drowned in my mother’s moat. I couldn’t get out, and I was so scared.”

Her throat tried closing, to keep her from upsetting herself any more, but she cleared her voice and pushed through. “And when you were in danger, I’ve never been more afraid in my life.” Tears prickled in her eyes. “But I was so afraid of getting back in the water. I didn’t want to drown. But if I didn’t try, you might.”

Arms wrapped around her shoulders and back, hugging her to Ben. Warm, soft, and smelling of his citrus cologne — Evie died and awoke in heaven.

Her head rested on his shoulder as she softly murmured, “I only had the courage to do it because it was you.”

The long, quiet moment which followed left her in half hope, half despair.

Hesitantly, Ben quietly said, “I don’t know what this means. I mean, I know what it means. But I’m officially courting Mal.”

His hands dragged across the fabric of her blouse then left her, his fingertips the last to pull away. He stepped back, his face crumpled as if withholding some terrible pain or regret.

“I’m sorry. Even if I have something I want to say, I can’t.”

Her body felt as though she’d not eaten for a week. The emptiness, the wretchedness was all-consuming. Like her mother taught her, Evie kept her chin up and shoulders back while she died inside.

The tip of his nose turned pinkish, and those eyes she loved became glassy until he blinked it away. Ben took the red rose from his blazer and held it out to her.

“Please accept this. It’s—” he avoided looking directly at her “—all I can say.”

She carefully took the stem and found it free of thorns. There was no pain, just beauty.

“I’m sorry.” His words barely reached her ears.

She barely uttered a ‘thank you’ before Ben off-handedly said they needed to get to class. In their haste to get to exams, both of them made the mistake of not looking back at each other one more time.

Mal kicked her heels off and sat on the bed. Outside her window, she could hear a bird trilling. That’s how quiet it had become in the dorms with some students having already moved out with plans to return day after tomorrow for graduation. Mal thought they’d have some big party, but she supposed that’s what cotillion had actually been.

Her mother’s beady black eyes looked back at her. “Finals are over — and so is Auradon Prep.”

She already missed it. This was the first home she ever had without a leaky roof and with reliable air conditioning. They had all the delicious, free food they could want. Her stomach would probably reject the rotten vegetables and canned meat from the Isle. Showers that left her warm all over, a cozy bed to fall into at the end of the day, asking and receiving rather than scrounging and stealing — Mal loved her life at Auradon Prep.

‘I could still have all of that if I stay with Ben.’

She still had no idea what to do about the Ben and Carlos situation. The busyness of finals and looming graduation had been the perfect excuse to look anywhere else except at the problem. The necklace and bracelets that Ben gave her hid in her wardrobe, next to the small tank she’d put her mother in when Carlos came over. She’d been grabbing him for “study sessions” whenever the stress of finals and her boy conundrum threatened to be too much. Mal thought she might be losing hair over it.

Flopping back onto her bed, she grabbed one of the goose feather-stuffed pillows and pressed it to her chest. She stood at the precipice of saying goodbye to someone, and she wished there was a spell to stop it. Both boys meant so much to her. Ben had melted her heart. Carlos accepted her as she was.

But she had a future with Ben.

Her face pressed into the pillow, hiding herself. Ages ago, when she’d told Carlos she wanted to decide her future, Mal hadn’t even known what that would look like if it wasn’t with Ben.

Maybe at the time, she’d meant she wanted to decide what being queen would look like for her. She wouldn’t follow in Belle’s footsteps, smiling from her husband’s elbow and placating him whenever he lost his temper. Always smiling, always a trite little book tucked in her arm — no, Mal wanted to hold her head high and rule with a strong, steady hand. She’d protect Ben and Auradon from all threats.

Even more, she could be a liberator. Ben kept bringing up expanding the VK program, and Evie never missed a chance to remind her that she could use her position to bring more kids over. Mal could be a liberator to kids on the Isle.

She could be legendary. Unforgettable.

But what her life would be if she ran away with Carlos was a complete unknown. She could be anything — or nothing.

Before Mal could spend another second smearing her make-up into her pillow, a short knock preceded the object of her guilt bounding into her dorm. Carlos closed the door behind him and excitedly half-climbed onto the bed beside her.

“Hey! I’ve solved it—wait—” He touched Mal’s shoulder then cheek as she toss her pillow aside and sat up on her elbows “—are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” she grumbled, pushing herself to fully sit upright. “What’d you solve, boy detective?” Mal joked to try hiding her mood.

As if unable to sit down from sheer energy, Carlos pulled his phone out and started tapping the screen. “We can go to London. I’ve been talking to my mom’s butler. Technically, while she’s on the Isle, I have full rights to all of her estate when I’m eighteen. Mom made John the estate overseer, and he said I get all of it and my own inheritance. It’s set! We can go to London!”

Maleficent’s lizard head bobbed from one to the other, waiting to see Mal’s reaction.

“—London?” She tried remembering where that even was. If her memory was correct, it was just far away enough from Auradon’s capital, on the coast of West Riding.

Carlos turned his phone to show her the screen, a spreadsheet of numbers that made less sense to her than Evie’s ledger. Using his nail, he indicated columns and rows while rapidly explaining, “So this is what I have in liquid assets right now! And these are investments and what they’ve accrued. This is what my trust fund is worth. Then this column factors in the properties, artwork, bank accounts — Basically, when I turn eighteen, I’ll technically be worth —” his index fingernail tapped a sum so large that Mal could hardly count that many zeros “—that.”

“So—” Everything was happening so fast “—you’re rich. And, wait, why London?”

Sitting on the bed, he took her hands. “We can stay in my mom’s old townhouse in the middle of the city.” Carlos couldn’t slow down; he was ecstatic. “While I’m in school, I’ll live part-time on campus then make the hour drive on the weekends. Or maybe I’ll be able to arrange my classes so they’re four days a week, or I don’t know, but there are so many ways this can work!”

His shining brown eyes made her smile. Mal couldn’t help it.

Pulling their intertwined hands onto her lap, she asked, “And what do I do while you’re in school?”

He gazed at her so lovingly. “Anything you want. My family has a massive library that goes back two centuries. I bet there could even be books about magic or even the moors.”

Her eyes grew wide and hungry. Learning about the moorish fairies had been impossible. All of the information she found was from the perspective of Auradon and humans. She craved to know more about the extinct culture of fairies, ended only a generation ago, which ran through her veins.

“I’m not—” His thumb rubbed the top of her hand “—I’m not like your mom or Ben. I’m not asking you to do anything or be anything you’re not. I want us being together to be fun. I don’t think our relationship should be the hard part of our lives.”

Mal snatched a hand from his to rub her eyes. That damn burning feeling had turned into actual tears. Carlos rested her remaining hand on her lap and gently brushed his fingers through her hair until she subdued her tears.

With a huff to bury her emotions, Mal stood up. “Try not making me upset when you’re trying to be romantic.” She swiped her mother up from her tank, and the lizard thrashed on principle. Opening her wardrobe, she deposited her inside a smaller tank and closed the lid.

Turning around, she found Carlos leaning back on his elbows, legs stretched out with ankles crossed, and grinning at her. “I’ll try to be more callous next time.”

Her body heated up. Damn. She wanted him so badly.

The wardrobe doors closed with a heavy thud. Mal sauntered over to him, eating up his form with just her eyes. “This new bad side you’ve got — is it all for me?”

No words left him as one knee pressed into bedding next to his hip. Her hand pushed his chest, guiding him onto his back. One touch of her hand made him so malleable that she could get drunk off the power. With senior year finals over, Mal thought it only appropriate to ‘drink responsibly.’

Her other knee landed on his opposite side, rubbing against his hip. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Carlos’ eyes were all over her face, her neck, and her décolletage. “You look better.”

She tossed her hair so it fell over one shoulder. “I do.”

Her hands trapped his head, but she didn’t have to guide him to the right angle.

Powerful — that’s how Mal felt with Carlos trapped beneath her with his lips pressed to hers. Her hands wandered down from his shoulders to his chest. Her fingers pressed into the cotton fabric of his shirt. The strategically cut slashes revealed the white linen button-down underneath. There were too many layers for her taste, but when he shivered, she could almost taste how much he liked it.

Her hands greedily explored up his chest, his shoulders rising with her fingertips to stay under them.

“I want to make you moan like a girl,” she breathed.

Her hands then slipped up the curve of his neck, finding the crevices she’d remember for later. Her fingertips traced circles on the corners of his jaw, trying to make him relax. She felt him release a breath that shuddered under her elbows. Her nails sought out his black roots, massaging his scalp. The way he melted and moaned deep in his throat absolutely sent her.

Her fingers curled at his roots and pulled. Simultaneously, she rocked her hips against his, and fuck if she wasn’t moaning along with him. Mal smothered her own embarrassing sounds by running her tongue along the hollow lines of his neck.

Chest to chest, Mal asked, “Do you want me to stop?”

He breathed, quick and shallow, but had no words.

“C’mon, Carlos,” she taunted, a smirk playing on her lips as she looked at his eyes, closed in ecstasy. “Say you don’t want me. Tell me you don’t want this.”

He was so fucking powerless under her.

Their lips pressed together again, wanting more and more until they’ve had all of each other. Drinking each other had become their sole priority.

Her hips rolled forward again, and he followed. Goosebumps erupted across her skin, and Mal could barely think. No wonder so many people on the Isle ended up with accidental kids. She couldn’t imagine even drugs topping this. Her toes curled. Her heart raced as she repeated the movements that rendered them entirely stupid.

Fuck. Maybe she would break-up with Ben. Maybe she would run away to Magical London with Carlos and live wild and free.

The invisible timer struck zero, and the door opened.

Chapter Text

The door slammed shut.

Mal leapt to her feet and smoothed her skirt. Heart in her throat, she faced the intruder.

“We’re talking.” Fire flashed in Evie’s eyes. “Now.”

Panic flooded her mind. Her time to choose had run out. Her heart could have beat out of her chest. But no, she caught her breath and dropped her shoulders, forcing herself to relax. She wouldn’t be intimidated by anyone, let alone one of her best friends, no matter how tall they stood with magical horns.

Mal tilted her head, challenging her. “About what?”

Evie’s eyes went wide, shocked at her brazenness. She shook her head, the anger in her eyes building as she said, “No wonder lying came so easily. You don’t feel bad about what you’ve done at all.”

The tension in the air turned electric, prickling the exposed skin of her arms and legs. She could barely move without the flick of a shock. Evie’s anger had manifested, whether the other girl knew it or not. Mal needed to keep on her toes. Dealing with someone new to their own powerful magic could be dangerous.

Mal planned to shut her down. “You act like you know all about me for someone who never listened to me.”

She advanced by a step, her heel loud on the floorboard. “If you’d talked to me before you went too far, and using Carlos—”

“Like when I told you about missing home?” Mal spoke louder, insistent. “Like how you listened when I said I hated yellow? Because you never listened.”

“You cheated on Ben.” Evie spoke it like an accusation in court — grave, forceful, and inarguable.

“You saw me on TV, but all you could see were the famous people I got to meet and the fancy dresses! You never noticed how I wasn’t actually eating! Or how fake I acted! You never cared that I wasn’t even myself anymore!”

Evie’s face twitched, as if ready to crack from the accusations, but instead, she firmly repeated, “You cheated on Ben.”

Mal’s voice became unsteady. “You were so proud of me for living the life you wanted! And when I said I wanted to go home, that I missed my life being my life, you lectured me!” If her neighbors had not moved out, they would have certainly heard Mal now. “You’re just as bad as my mom! Except you expected me to be an Auradon girl like you and couldn’t accept that I’m not! You never even liked the real me! Or else you would’ve cared when that I was dying inside just to be good enough for everyone!”

The air became clearer as Evie’s power diminished. She could glanced around at nothing as she gathered her thoughts.

Blinking away tears, she looked at Mal and said, “Not once this whole time have you taken responsibility for cheating on Ben.” Evie held her chin up. “We can talk about everything you said later, but right now, I just walked in—” Her jaw clenched as she visibly fought to speak the next words “—on you taking advantage of Carlos—” Her voice broke, pained.

That did it. That accusation that she’d do anything nonconsensual with Carlos pushed Mal right over. He wanted it, but to everyone else, Mal was the only bad guy in every situation. Carlos was the only person who tried to understand her, not Evie.

“What’s wrong, E?” she taunted. “Does it remind you too much of what you and Ben did during cotillion? Oh, but it’s fine when you cheat on Doug. Because don’t fucking tell me that you two tonguing like the fate of Auradon depended on it was out of fucking nowhere!”

Mal saw the hesitation in her eyes. The air had cleared of her power.

“But I do it,” Mal said, voice dropping dangerously, “And I’m the bitch. So what was your point in coming here, E? Make me break-up with Ben so you can move in? What? If you’re gonna be bad, then fucking own it.”

Evie stared at her as if watching their friendship burn before her eyes. Maybe she was. But Mal won, and she told herself that’s what mattered. She was safe so long as she was on top.  Her tense breathing filled her ears with no other sound. Then, the silent moment didn’t just break.

“You never broke up with Ben.”

It shattered.

Her head snapped toward the bed, where Carlos sat. Realization came over his face as if he’d woken up. Looking at the crumbled bedding under him, his expression morphed, devastated and disgusted. He pushed himself up off the bed. His arms went around himself as he retreated to the farthest wall from her. Carlos looked at neither of them.

Everything fell apart and her tears with it as she started toward him. “Carlos, I’m sorry—”

Evie stepped between them, seizing Mal’s arms and guiding her backward. “Don’t talk to him. Don’t say a word to him. I don’t care if it is to apologize.” Each blink kept her own tears at bay. “You have to confess to everything you’ve done.”

Mal violently tore her arms from the taller girl’s grip and stumbled backward into the nightstand and empty tank. “Are you fucking crazy? My whole life will be over.”

“Then quit making it worse,” Evie said, emphasizing each word. “I’ll get Jay—”

“What’s your magical idea for fixing everything? You say I’m not owning up to anything, but I don’t hear you admitting you’re in love with Ben!” Mal knew Evie wouldn’t give up her good relationship with Doug and covet her best friend’s boyfriend for anything less. “But perfect Evie could never be as bad as me!”

“I tried!” Evie raised her voice, the loudest she’d been yet. “I tried to help you see sense! I’m not calling you a bitch or denying anything! I’m just trying to help you!”

Her blood boiled. “By making Carlos hate me?!”

“You did that to yourself!” Evie pressed her hands over her face before straightening up, regaining her composure. “If you won’t tell Ben, then I’ll tell him myself.”

Evie turned, shoulders squared, and strode toward the door. In Mal’s eyes, each heavy footstep was a timer to a bomb that Evie would detonate. She had to stop her. She had to protect herself.

Mal rushed forward, fingertips sparking with unrestrained green magic.

She had to stop her.

Fingers grasped Evie’s elbow, and the effect was as instantaneous as a finger pricking a spindle. Malicious green magic exploded like an electric burst around Evie’s body. Mal’s own power nearly blinded her. The light illuminated a horrified Carlos. Evie’s mouth opened soundlessly. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

Then Evie’s body fell with a great and horrible thump on the floor.

Mal trembled, her skin covered in goosebumps.

“What did you do?”

Carlos threw himself onto the floor beside Evie and touched the sides of her face, trying to wake her up. He pulled her upper body into his arms and shook her, but she did nothing, head lolling to the side.

“Mal, what’d you do?! What’d you do?!” he helplessly cried while pulling Evie closer to his chest.

“I don’t know.” Her hands ran worriedly through her hair. “I don’t know, okay?! I didn’t mean to do this!”

Her room spun, turning the floor unsteady beneath her feet. Mal could barely breathe. The only clear thing was Carlos’ sobbing and repeating Evie’s name.

Stumbling forward, Mal accidentally kicked Evie’s bag, knocking out her wallet and a red rose. Her fingers found the door and lock less by sight than memory. The door thrown open, Mal leaned out into the hallway and screamed for help. She screamed so loudly that her lungs screamed back as she clutched the doorway for support. Mal had no idea who was still around.

Then a door down the hallway opened, and Jane rushed out while yanking her headphones off. As if her job for the moment was done, Mal could keep herself upright not a second longer and collapsed onto the ground, unconsolable while Jane used her cell phone to call for help.

The final exam period followed lunch, and they’d parted with maybe five minutes until the two hour exam period. Jane heard Mal screaming in the hallway roughly forty minutes after the final exam. That meant, to his estimation, it was only one hundred and sixty five minutes that separated the last time Ben saw Evie awake and doing well to the moment that she wasn’t.

The Fairy Godmother and his mother moved Evie to the castle. Ignorance shrouded Ben until Belle knocked on her son’s study door and interrupted his graduation speech prep.

“Ben, there’s been an accident involving Evie.”

There existed no manner of speech gentle enough to not stab him in the chest.

“Mal needs you right now.”

The daze in which he followed his mother toward the guest wing left Ben hoping this was a nightmare. That he could wake-up, hit reset, or close the book as if that would stop what happened next.

Lumiere fretted outside the door while his daughter, frowning gravely, crossed her arms over her tablet. Jane rubbed her crying eyes until they were red and swollen. Belle turned the handle and, with a worried look back at Ben, led the way inside.

Ben noticed other people in the room. Mal, Carlos, and Jay were blurs to him. All he really saw was Mrs. Potts pressing a hot towel to Evie’s dark brow. She could have been sleeping, except with her shoes on. Briefly, he had the crazy idea he should take her shoes off so she could be more comfortable.

Ben couldn’t cross the threshold swiftly enough. He look at her mouth then her chest, but she didn’t move.

Evie wasn’t breathing.

Someone had rested her hand on her stomach with the rose he’d given her tucked under her palm. Tentatively, he touched that hand. She was so cold.

And so was he. Ben wanted to ask what happened, but he’d forgotten how to speak.

Mrs. Potts sighed, frowning as she took Evie’s free hand in her own and tried warming it up. “The Fairy Godmother will be back soon with her wand, dearie. She’ll make this right.”

For the first time, he didn’t feel comforted by Mrs. Potts. For the first time, he had no faith in the Fairy Godmother’s powers. Something horrible had happened, and no one was telling him what, and he couldn’t stop shaking now that he’d started. The first tear fell, stinging as it ran down his cheek.

“Ben,” Mal miserable called out to him, making him turn toward her just as she fell into his arms. The collision, the touch, the tears soaking through his shirt all brought him back to the fact he wasn’t then only person shaken by this.

Mal clutched at and wrinkled the sides of his button-up shirt, and he patted her back comfortingly. Jay slouched in a chair and stared at the ground, as if looking at his friends’ suffering was too much. Carlos looked like he barely knew where he was. His eyes looked as red and irritated as Jane’s.

Ben noticed his mother had gone to his father’s side as he stood farthest from everyone with arms crossed, face stern with worry.

The door opened again as the Fairy Godmother swept in with her wand already sending shimmering sparkles every which way. “Stand back, everyone.” Her voice straining to sound chipper through a forced optimistic smile. “I’ll need plenty of space.”

Ben’s arms dropped to Mal’s waist as he guided her back, near the wall with him. Eyes puffy from crying, she turned and held onto his arm. Mrs. Potts retreated to a far wall as well and worriedly twisted the hot towel as the Fairy Godmother began flourishing her wand.

“Bibbiddi—” The movements became strong and purposeful

“Bobbiddi—” The older woman glowed an incandescent, silvery blue.

“—BOO!” Her wand and fingers directed her full magical force down at Evie.

Ben clutched Mal tightly to him, waiting for the moment he might have to shield her from a magical burst. The silvery blue power enveloped Evie’s body like a dazzling cloud, the sparkles becoming numerous as stars and shining like a glare off the water.

Then a dark mist rose from Evie, and whatever magic it touched, it devoured. The mist only dissipated when there was nothing left to devour.

The Fairy Godmother clutched her wand to her chest and gasped, observing this turn of events. Finally, after a long quiet moment, she gathered herself to say, “This is a very serious curse she’s under.”

‘A curse.’ Ben swallowed that piece of information and asked with threadbare hope, “She’s not dead?”

A short, loud sob escaped Mal. She trembled in his arms, nearly bent over as she exhaled a great, shaky half sigh, half cry of relief. Ben tightened his embrace to keep her upright.

Jay lifted his head and looked from Ben to the Fairy Godmother. Carlos’ eyes focused on Evie.

“No, I don’t believe so.” The Fairy Godmother experimentally, if cautiously, waved her wand over Evie’s body. “I believe she’s in a death-like sleep.”

Beast’s booming voice broke the somber atmosphere. “If you can’t wake her, then our only other choice is to seek out Merlin.”

The headmistress went pink in the face and said, “Oh, I’d rather we didn’t involve my old mentor.” Her smile dipped downward in one corner then the other. “Let’s first consider what caused this curse in the first place, and I think it’s evident to everyone there’s only one viable source for such evil magic.”

Anger welled in Ben’s chest listening to her speak in that same upbeat tone, even if it was forced. To him, it lacked all decorum. Meanwhile, Mal froze against him.

“These horns are clearly a mark of evil,” she went on as if leading a lecture in Remedial Goodness 101. “To free victims from curses, it’s important to first remove the physical cause, if applicable.”

Ben saw where this was going, moving an arm from Mal to broadly sweet his arm out. “What proof do you even have that her horns are evil?”

If he wanted the adults to listen, he had to keep his voice even and arguments logical, but Ben felt this become increasingly difficult the hotter he became. A mark of evil upon Evie, as if anyone could look at her and think she was anything less than perfect as she was.

His father pointed a warning finger at him. “The Fairy Godmother knows more about magic than anyone else in all of Auradon and has been a loyal advisor to our family for over two decades.”

Ben forced his jaw to unclench. “I’m not being disrespectful when I ask for an explanation.”

“It’s quite all right,” the Fairy Godmother reassured the former king, as if Ben was only a rambunctious toddler. To Ben, she explained, “It’s because sometimes the obvious answer is the answer. Evie grew horns that reject good magic, and it’s only reasonable to assume they are the cause of her magical condition. No villain could have done this. They’re all safely on the Isle.”

Carlos’ narrowed, tired eyes looked at the back of her head. Ben was surprised the older woman didn’t feel his gaze burning through her French twist.

“They’re part of her,” Ben argued. He’d seen them glow like the aurora borealis to awake the Spirit of the Magic Mirror. They weren’t a parasite but reacted to her will. “She inherited them from her father, the Horned King.”

Ben misunderstood the reaction that would get. His mother, horrified, covered her mouth with her yellow gloved hands while his father growled, roaring in hate at the mention of the legendary necromancer king. The Fairy Godmother paled and looked at Evie with a new understanding that Ben could not tolerate. Jay was on his feet, looking at the three adults as if sizing up who he’d have to fight first.

“It’s just a thing in her family!”

Beast looked to the Fairy Godmother. “Has she ever shown the slightest proclivities for—?”

“NO! Just LISTEN to me!” Ben demanded, but he couldn’t keep that tilting, begging tone from his voice. “That doesn’t matter!”

Belle smiled pityingly at her son. “It matters very much, Ben.”

Ben’s father looked past him. “Mal, what do you think?”

He blinked. Right. After the Fairy Godmother, Mal knew the most about magic, and she had the most personal experience in evil magic. All eyes went to her. Even Carlos looked away from Evie to stare her down.

Her mouth opened, not making a sound for several seconds before managing, “What do I think?” She stepped out of Ben’s grasp and paced. “I mean, I think — it could —” Her hand went to her stomach “—it could go either way. I don’t know.”

The floorboards creaked violently under heavy, swift footsteps as Carlos crossed from the far side of the room and out the door.

“Carlos!” Mal slipped past Ben and ran out as fast as her high heels allowed.

Ben, worried, started toward the door when Jay cut in front of him with a hand held out, catching Ben in the chest.

He shook his head. “It’s VK business.” Then he took was out the door and after the others.

Nothing else mattered. Goals, accomplishments, plans, desires — all of it was being swept off the table. Daydreams of weekends in Magical London with his best friends and studying at Hundred Acre University disappeared entirely. Only one thing mattered now. And if he could see past the grief that kept pulling him under, then maybe Carlos could start formulating a plan to save Evie.

Then he could apologize to her. He wanted to tell her she was right, and that he was so sorry. Walking the long gravel path through the Enchanted Forest, back to Auradon Prep gave him no reprieve from having his heart torn apart. His mind flashed through the way he’d stood there as the girls argued before jumping to Evie warning him and how he’d actually stood up for Mal.

And the way Mal ran into Ben’s arms and the way she kept her mouth shut when they were threatening to cut off pieces of her — Carlos clutched his stomach in agony.

But he had to pull it together. He owed Evie so much. They were each other’s first real friends.

The pain of it all made him drag his feet, finally allowing Mal to catch up to him a short ways from the next lamppost dotting the shadowy path.

“Carlos!” her voice strained. “Wait!”

Her hand barely touched his arm when he ripped it away. “Don’t touch me!”

“Don’t run!” she shot back without heat, only desperation. “Evie needs us.”

Carlos got right into Mal’s space, making her look at him wide-eyed. “And whose fault is it? You stood there and lied. Even if it could save Evie’s life, you couldn’t tell everyone what you did. You protected yourself, because that’s what it’s all about—”

“I never wanted to hurt anyone!” she screamed, voice echoing in the trees and upsetting nearby birds, wings fluttering. “I just wanted to be happy! To be me! I never wanted to hurt anyone!” Tears dripped from her cheeks. “I never wanted to hurt Evie!”

The happy memories of the Core Four’s friendship slipped far away from him now. He should have known getting closer to Mal could only spell disaster for him. He never should have made her that dress. His whole life would look different. Graduation would’ve been an exciting prospect. Evie wouldn’t have been cursed. Maybe he’d be dating Jane, and they’d have a nice, sweet relationship where the biggest drama was planning birthday gifts.

Carlos’ expression twisted, pained. “This isn’t what I wanted at all. My life, Evie — it wasn’t supposed to be like this!”

“Do you think I wanted this?! Did I, at any point, ever say I wanted this?!” Her words came out hysterical.

“No, Mal, but you chose it!”

Her tightly fisted hands pressed against his chest. “I wanted to be happy! And being near you made me happy! How could I know this was going to happen?!”

He backed away, out of her reach. “You knew what you were doing was wrong. I knew it. I tried to stop it. You lied, because you think that’s how you protect yourself. That if people saw you for you, then you’d have no friends at all.”

Her mouth pressed together as she glared at the ground, fisted shaking. “I told you. I told you when I was trying to run away.” She looked at him with bright red eyes. “I told you I’d never change. I warned you and you said you didn’t want me to change, and you made me believe you!”

Carlos shook his head, pressed his palms over his heart, and said, “And I meant it! I didn’t want ‘perfect’ Mal! I didn’t want all the lies! I just wanted you! And I know who you are! I know you’re manipulative and mean and cocky and a liar! I just—”

His voice broke. He straightened up, breathing and building the strength up to say, “I just never thought you’d lie to me.”

Her arms half-reached out to him but stopped, as if his words had formed a wall. “Carlos, I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head and stepped away from her. “I didn’t even want to touch my mother’s money. That’s why I got the scholarship. I wanted to be completely independent from her, but for you — for you — I was going to take whatever you needed.”

Each word reverberated painfully in his chest.

“But I wasn’t good enough, was I? All of that money, the townhouse, the plan — none of it was good enough for you. I’m sorry—” his voice rose in sarcasm “—that a baron’s estate and my mother’s fashion empire wasn’t good enough for your fucking ego!”

Mal pressed her hands over her face, hiding her eyes as he gestured his whole arm in the direction of the castle and Jay, who nervously hung back and watched his friends’ breakdown.

“Go back to Ben!” He’d never yelled like this in his life. “Go be queen! And I’ll save Evie despite you!”

Carlos left her. He went down the path as fast he could without running to get away from her sobs. Anger and nausea turned his stomach, and the falling night felt so cold. The closest he felt to relief was when Mal’s cries finally disappeared under the cover of cicadas rhythmically buzzing.

Pebbles flying and crunching announced Jay jogging up beside him. His hand clapped Carlos on the shoulder, and the taller boy said, “We’ll save Evie together.”

Carlos nodded stiffly and muttered, “Yeah.”

They had to, because nothing else mattered.

The plan had been to finish packing their belongings into boxes and suitcases then sleep off the day’s events. Sports trophies, academic achievement certificates, shoes, binders, gym bags, headphones, and every other trinket of self were out of sight. Their clothes for the next day hung over the back of their chairs, and their blue graduation gowns alone occupied the open closet.  The clicking of Dude’s claws and the occasional creaking of the building settling sounded twice as loud.

The small dog laid curled up with his back firmly pressed against Carlos’ side, as if he’d sensed this would be their last night together at Auradon prep. Carlos’ fingers ran over the dog’s wiry fur, giving him some comfort until he remembered they’d be saying goodbye tomorrow. Dude belonged to the school, and Carlos had only been given the privilege of taking care of him.

A giant pit had opened inside him while he watched the clock go from eleven to midnight to one then two.

He’d offered Mal everything he had, and when that wasn’t enough, he’d laid even more at her feet. She could have asked for the moon, and he’d have devised some clever scheme to make it hers. In the dark, early morning hours, tears ran down the sides of his face and soaked the hair near his ears. That beautiful girl, that liar, could touch his skin and move his whole soul.

‘And I’m too in love with her to tell everyone what she did.’ Carlos hated himself.

When his shock and anger faded, when the tears abated, Carlos stared down the one plan he could think of. He didn’t want to do it. Turning onto his side and wrapping an arm around Dude, he buried his face into his pillow and knew he needed to find the courage to do it.

“Jay,” his hoarse voice broke the hours long silence.

The other boy shifted in his bed. “Yeah?” He’d been wide awake too.

Carlos sat up and wiped his forearm across his eyes. “I have a plan.”

Jay sat up, his bed’s oak bed frame creaking. “Shoot.”

Dude stood up and gave himself a good shake then stepped onto Carlos’ lap for attention. The boy rubbed his velvety ears and tried to remember everything about the little dog in that moment.

“I need to go back to the Isle.”

Now that it was spoken, it was real.

“Someone on the Isle has to know how to help Evie.” Carlos saw no better plan than to speak with the people who specialized in such curses. The Isle held so many witches, sorceresses, sorcerers, and a notorious voodoo witch doctor.

Jay’s silhouette nodded stiffly. “We’ll go tomorrow night.”

“No.” He told himself to be brave. “Tonight.”

“There won’t be any time. By the time I steal a limo, we’d have enough time to drive there and back. Forget about talking to anyone.”

Carlos closed his eyes. “You’re dropping me off. I’ll stay and work on a way to convince people to help. The villains aren’t going to want to help us. They probably think we turned our backs on the Isle.”

Jay, worked up, threw the covers off so he could stand. “I’ll stay with you.”

He shook his head, still not looking at Jay even as the other boy turned the bedside lamp on. “You have to stay with Evie. Make sure they don’t hurt her.”

The plans to change Evie, to cut off pieces of her, left Carlos wanting to throw up had he anything left in his stomach. Ben was hardly a king in that moment, from Carlos’ perspective. He couldn’t trust Ben to deal with Mal or protect Evie.

Jay nodded heavily, not needing further explanation. In the end, they only had each other.

“Where will you stay? You can’t move back in with your mom.”

Carlos gently removed Dude from his lap then put his feet onto the cold hardwood floor. Clutching the edges of the mattress, he took a breath.

“I have an idea.”

Carlos didn’t know whether to call this a self-exile or a homecoming. The last box, holding his bubble-wrapped 3D printer, went into the back of the stolen limousine. He supposed it was a glass half-full situation. But he had to go. He had to wake up Evie so he could apologize to her.

Mal’s crying echoed in his ears.

The car door slammed shut with a shove from Jay. “It’s gonna suck without my best friend.”

Carlos dropped his head. “I’m sorry. I said I’d have your back and help you figure something out after graduation. I know I said we’d go to London —”

“Hey,” Jay cut him off. “Evie takes priority. We’ll figure out our problems together, after she wakes up. We’re a team.”

Carlos choked out a “yeah” before they were firmly hugging, wordlessly saying how much they’d miss each other. He wanted Jay to know he wouldn’t be strong without him. Before they were friends, he was a scared, weak kid. He had no right on the Tourney field or in R.O.A.R. until the ex-thief showed more patience and belief in Carlos than anyone else. Jay valued his intelligence and showed him how to face conflict with strength.

Letting go of each other, Carlos looked him in the eye and resolutely said, “I can do this.”

‘Because of you.’

Jay nodded, brow wrinkled. “Yeah you can.” He patted Carlos’ back then headed toward the driver side as the other boy went to the front passenger side.

An entrance door to the dormitories swung open, and out ran Jane in her blue and pink cotton pajama set. Her fuzzy slippers didn’t make a sound as she hurriedly shuffled down the steps and straight to Carlos. Her pale face brought out the pinkish tip of her nose.

“Jane, what are you doing up?” was all he could think to ask.

“I couldn’t sleep at all after today. I mean I did sleep at first, but then I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep,” she rambled. “So I tried reading, but then I thought I heard a car outside, so I went to check and I saw it was a royal limousine. Then I thought maybe Mal was moving into the castle, but her door is closed, and then I saw you guys and ran out—”

“And now you’re here,” Jay finished for her.

She looked up at Carlos with big, sad blue eyes. “Are you really leaving without saying goodbye? Or getting your diploma? I’ll make sure they ship it to you. I’ll send it myself. I’ll even email you the tracking number.”

Carlos put his hands on her shoulders in hopes it would help her relax. “I need to go. Jane, please promise me you won’t tell anyone you saw us.”

Her brow furrowed, and she slowly asked, “What do you mean? Why would I lie?”

A breeze struck them, making her tightly cross her arms. His Isle outfit, the same he wore when dealing with Uma’s crew, made him feel comfortable in the cool night air.

“Because I don’t want anyone know where I’m going or who helped me get there,” he whispered over the cicadas.

Jane, nonplussed, squinted at him. “What do you mean? Aren’t you going to Hundred Acre for the summer freshman program?”

Letting go of her, he earnestly explained, “I’m going to the Isle—” She gasped, eyes almost bugging out “—to find someone to help Evie. Promise me you’ll keep it to yourself.”

“I—but oh Carlos—!” Her hands ran worriedly through her free flowing brown hair. “Where will you stay? Who’s going to feed you? Wha—ah—how will you stay warm?”

He caught one of her arms and gently pulled it back down to her side, and her other followed suit as she calmed down. “I figured it out before. I’ll do it again. Don’t worry.”

Jane’s eyes filled with tears, making her eyes even bluer. After a few seconds of high-pitched stuttering, she took his hand and weakly managed, “I’ll miss you.”

He waited to feel that nervous fluttering and for his words to become jumbled, but they didn’t. Jane was a really good friend, and she always would be.

“I’ll miss you too.” He reassuredly squeezed her hand. “Look after Dude for me? He’s in the dorm right now, but he’d probably like some company.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.” The prospect of doing something helpful brightened her. “I’ll go do that right now.”

Jay set his arms up on the car, catching their attention. “We seriously gotta’ go now if I’m going to sneak this thing back into the royal garages before security notices.”

With a quick goodbye to Jane, Carlos was climbing into the passenger seat. He could see her through the passenger mirror, standing there, waiting to watch them leave.

With a turn of the key in the ignition, the engine came to life. Jay shifted the car into drive and asked, “Why didn’t just say yeah, you were going to Hundred Acre for the summer program?”

With one turn, Jane disappeared from view.

Carlos, who’d had no food since lunch, no sleep, and too much trauma, asked, “What?”

“Jane’s a terrible liar,” he said matter-of-factly. “If anyone finds out, we’ll know who told them.”

Jane, who shared everything with everyone, knew where he was going. “Fuck.”

Maybe it was the expletive or the stress, but Jay’s snort turned into a laugh that got Carlos tiredly chuckling along. They had a car ride’s worth of time left together before they’d part for who knew how long. He aimed to enjoy every minute left with Jay.

Then he’d leave everything good behind, carry what he could in his heart, and step into the unknown future alone.

Chapter Text

“But seriously, where are you staying?”

Air gushing through the open car window brushed white strands across Carlos’ forehead, settling his nausea. Everything became something worth savoring — the soft leather cushioning, the ease of smoothly flying over paved roadways, and the presence of his best friend at the wheel. Leaving it all to return to the backdrop of his nightmares rendered him ill. He wished he was braver.

“The old hideout?” Jay ventured, turning the wheel one-handedly as he took a tight corner.

Carlos inhaled deeply. “No. It’s too close to the docks, and I don’t know if I can go without utilities.”

‘You’d live at the bargain castle,’ Mal once told him when he’d asserted living on the streets would be better than living with his mother. Her words painted a picture of him living in the apartment above the shop and using her old bedroom. The way she’d been ready to offer anything to him had made him feel so good, so cared about.

His mind went from her old bed to the last time he was on her mattress, choking back moans from the friction she made between his legs.

‘I would’ve done anything for you.’ Maybe that was still true. He’d left Castle Beast rather than rat her out.

“Why didn’t you tell them it was Mal?” he asked Jay.

In the dark car, he could see the other boy frown gravely. “Because she’s still my friend. And I don’t know what they’d do to her if they found out she was cursing people.”

While Evie was being transported to the castle, Jay had taken Carlos aside to snap him out of his gasping, crying, and inability to say anything other than Evie’s name. Jay had asked what happened, and Carlos only had to say one word: Mal.

Jay had put the situation together himself. “All of us assumed Mal was doing fine. We’ll fix this. And I’ll still have Mal’s back.”

Carlos rolled up his window, the wind on his face suddenly to much. “After everything she’s done?”

“We’re rotten to the core,” Jay thickly recited their friend group motto. “At the end of the day, all we have is each other, right?” He cleared his throat. “We need some kind of plan if you need off the Isle ASAP. We don’t have a way to talk so long as you’re under the barrier.”

Carlos knew this spur of the moment plan came with many hurdles ranging from simple basics like housing and communication to the social chess game that was Isle culture. “I’ll figure it out. If you don’t hear from me after a month, come find me, just in case.”

“Two weeks.” Jay gripped the steering wheel as he guided the limousine onto the dirt road, down to the abandoned gate to the destroyed Isle bridge. “I don’t want you stuck there.”

He sighed, mumbling, “I have no idea how long this’ll take, but it’s not gonna just be two weeks.”

The dirt road jostled them, causing the couple of boxes and suitcases to bump against each other. Most of his things were being left behind with Jay in preference of taking only what he needed, plus a bag of chocolates, per Jay’s insistence that chocolate was a necessity for Carlos.

“Try to have some fun while you’re there.” He eased the car to a stop between the crumbling brick columns that used to be a grand portal to a road crossing the sea. Jay tapped a clicker and eased onto the gas, guiding them onto the shimmery, magical path. “Run around and cause some trouble for old times. If it’s something I’d do—” He playfully elbowed Carlos’ bicep “—then do it.”

A reluctant smile relaxed his features. “I don’t think I know how to have fun there without you guys.”

“Go on a few dates. Make-out for the hell of it. I wasn’t entirely talking out of my ass when I told Lonnie that’s what VKs did sometimes.”

Carlos blushed. “I didn’t.” Back then, girls didn’t even think of him as a boy so much as a frightened puppy.

“Try it. It’ll help you forget about Mal,” Jay said with all the confidence of someone who had no idea just how bad the situation was.

But Carlos was desperate. “Who would I even make-out with?”

“Harry Hook is always down.”

The younger boy slouched in his seat. “No offense to our ‘special moment’ at cotillion, but I’m not interested in kissing guys.”

Jay snorted. “Your loss.”

Carlos sat up, distracted from watching the black, churning water far beneath them. “Hey, you know, it’s really normal. Kissing guys.”

Jay shot a sideways incredulous look at his friend. “Yeah—?”

“And if you wanted to date while I’m gone — or even when I’m back — I mean, you can can date and not be into girls,” he gracelessly stumbled his way around the point. He could almost hear Artie cringing.

Jay squinted at nothing while piecing together the gobbledegook that just spewed from Carlos’ mouth. “Dude. Just say I’m gay.”

“I was trying to ease you into it!”

“I don’t need to be eased into being gay!”

They devolved into laughing at themselves and the absurdity of the conversation. Jay, smiling until the corners of his mouth hurt, managed to say, “It’s something I sorted out after cotillion. I just felt all this pressure to like girls, y’know? It’s like being gay isn’t even a thing in Auradon. And forget me dating. All the queer guys I know are on the Isle! I spent the last two weeks trying to figure out if Aziz was bi, and I have no idea what’s going on with Chad.”

Carlos snorted, voice light from laughter. “What about Chad?”

Jay shrugged, gently braking as they went under the dilapidated brick archway into the trash heap square. “I dunno, I just thought he had a crush on you with the way he was always sneaking into our room and annoying you.”

“He had a crush on my tech,” Carlos corrected. “Either way, it’s unrequited.”

Dirt and trash crunched under the limousine tires before it stopped, the gear shifted to park, and the doors automatically unlocked. If only that stupid conversation could have gone on longer. They’d never have these late night conversations again, not as roommates. The door closed on this era of Carlos’ life, leaving a lump in his throat.

Jay, focused on the task at hand, avoided getting sentimental by getting out and preying around the piles of cardboard, metal, papers, and things too dirty to even guess what they’d been. Carlos climbed out of the limousine and immediately cringed at the sour stench.

‘Welcome home, I guess.’

A small avalanche of broken ladder parts drew Carlos’ attention back to Jay, who pulled a rusted dolly free from a rubbish pile. “Perfect! It’s even got all four wheels! So, where are we hauling your shit?”

“The Fashion Factory.”

His mother’s manufacturing warehouse created the only decent clothes on the Isle. The back side faced the street where Hell Hall, the Castle Across the Way, and the Tremaines home and bakery sat. The front faced into the marketplace, where the majority of brick and mortar businesses sat. Then closer to the center of the Isle was the bazaar, a massive collection of stalls with ever changing merchandise.

The small warehouse had the downside of belonging to Cruella; however, that also meant Carlos had outfitted it with a security system years ago. Jasper was the one who showed him how to rig up cameras, and Carlos figured out how to implement sensors and passcode-enabled doors. If he had to be back on the Isle, then he wanted to sleep somewhere secure.

One dolly, a tarp, and a few bungee cords later, Jay and Carlos had all of his stuff secured for moving. Night moved quickly, and so did they. They avoided looking at the late night loiterers on the main street and took a short cut down No Way that took them past the heady, spicy aroma wafting from the cooling ovens at Hades’ souvlaki restaurant.

Between the two of them, they got to a side door into the Fashion Factory in no time. Carlos went up to the dial pad and faltered, trying to recall the passcode. Numbers didn’t come to mind, but the muscle memory returned. Inputting the numbers, he held his breath until the buzzer chimed and the lock clicked open. A thrill went through him that he still knew his way around.

After much heaving and hauling Carlos' possessions up two flights of stairs, they found a room on the top floor that likely had been an office at some point but now stored boxes and wood pallets. Jay undid the bungee cords and threw off the tarp while Carlos walked over to the large, half-circle window and looked out onto the street below.

A light was on at the Tremaine’s condensed manor, and he saw Anthony’s tall silhouette wandering past the thin curtains. Carlos rubbed his sleeve on the dirty window panes and looked farther up the street, where he could see the gate, then the yard of dead grass, and the silhouette of a darkened but familiar porch.

The wooden floorboards, their polish long worn off, creaked underfoot as Jay went to stand beside him. “Cool view.”

“Yeah,” Carlos said without conviction.

‘I hope I can do this.’

Reluctantly, Jay said, “I need to get going.”

Sadness welled up inside Carlos, much as he tried stamping it down. “I’ll go with you.”

Returning to the limousine passed uneventfully and too quickly. The boys tried disrupting the somberness by joking about annoying classmates or remembering the best spots to grab (or steal) food on the Isle.

They didn’t hug goodbye. Jay climbed into the driver seat, eased on the gas, and waved out the window once before driving out the portal and onto the shimmering, temporary road out of the portal.

Carlos watched, thinking about how this is what their parents did several years ago. The bone-chilling air off the sea made him begin his way back, alone.

But when he turned off the main street and onto No Way, he wasn’t alone anymore.

From years of being bullied, Carlos had a keen sense for the area behind him. There were two guys following him.

‘Shit.’

His mind formulated a way out of this. When he turned the corner up ahead, he’d run into the adjacent alley and get up the fire escape there. The rooftops were connected all the way through the bazaar. He could hop down there, cut through—

Carlos rounded the corner, and rough hands seized him by the collar.

There was a third, and they’d known where he was going. He and Jay hadn’t paid enough attention. He thought several panicked profanities. The guy, around his own age with a red bandana tied around his forehead and wearing a vest made of an old fishing net, shoved him back toward the alley that was supposed to be his escape.

Carlos seized his wrists, trying to tear him off, when another stalker pinned his arms behind him and held him in place. The first guy let go, the third joining. Carlos recognized the distinctive style of hat he wore.

Pirates. This was Uma’s crew.

His stomach sank faster than an anchor. They wanted revenge.

“Wot’s Mal’s bitch doin’ ‘round here?” the pirate with the stereotypical hat asked in a bad imitation of Harry Hook’s accent.

Carlos pushed back against the pirate restraining him so he could stand up straight. “Go fuck yourself!” He had to put on a strong face, show no fear.

“Eh maybe we’ll fuck you if you’re not a good little bitch and do what we say,” the bandana pirate taunted, acting quite big for nobodies in Uma’s crew. “Cap’n’s gonna’ wanna’ word with you.”

He didn’t have a single friend on that Isle who’d save him. He needed to think. He needed to escape.

Carlos kicked hard as he could behind him, getting the pirate in the shin. Their hold weakened, he seized their arm and threw them forward, colliding into the hat pirate.

The bandana pirate’s fist collided with the side of his head. Carlos stumbled into the gritty brick wall. A fist buried into his abdomen, robbing him of every ounce of air as he sank into the gutter. He curled up, shielding himself as the pirate lobbied a kick wherever he could reach.

No one paid attention to the metal door that opened or the sound of contents jostling in a dropped garbage bag. The high-pitched scream paused the fight.

Carlos lowered his hands and saw Dizzy pale, screaming before yelling, “ANYA!!!” She fled back into the harsh hydrogen light pouring from the salon.

The pirates looked at each other hesitantly before the bandana one snapped, “Just deal with her!”

The ‘her’ in question was Anya Tremaine, daughter of Anastasia and her baker husband. Her limbs moving almost robotically as she stepped out into the alleyway. She looked at the discarded trash bag and knocked over trash cans, quietly declaring to herself, “What a mess.”

Her head turned toward the four of them. “Go on, now. You don’t belong here,” she said as if they were misbehaving tom cats, even waving her fingers in a shooing motion. “Get. Get.”

“Mind ya’ business, ya crazy cunt!”

Anya exhaled a low hum, as if inconvenienced. Her rod-straight posture accentuated her stiffness as she bent at the waist to grab a metal trash can.

The hat pirate, impatiently snarling, approached the young woman. With no warning in her expression, she swung the trash can, knocking him over.

Another pirate rushed her. Raising the trash can over her head, she slammed the opening down over his head.

With all the bored determination of someone completing a chore, Anya kicked out with her whole leg. The canned pirate half stumbled, half flew into his remaining, slackjawed companion.

The hat pirate was managing back to his feet. “Ya bloody — I’mma’ kill you —”

“Dizzy!” Anya yelled with no concern. “Bring me the curling wand! It should still be hot!”

Carlos watched the pirates scramble to their feet to flee. The one stuck in the trash can rolled a ways down the alley before freeing himself and crawling in retreat.

‘I’m okay,’ he told the frantic beating in his chest.

A pair of thick platform boots with pink laces stood in front of him. “Hey Carlos. Watcha’ doin’ in the gutter?” came Anya’s airy voice. Following her shoes to black tights, a puce colored dress, and a puffed sleeve leather jacket with pink embroidery. Then there was Anya’s U-shaped smile and tidily secured red hair.

“—I got my ass kicked.”

She hummed disappointedly then held her hands out, grasping his and hauling Carlos to his feet. Catching his breath, trying to calm down, Carlos took stock of his injuries, but the adrenaline in his system blocked out the pain he’d feel later.

Anya set the trash can back into place, deposited the abandoned trash bag, and returned to the glaring white light of the salon. Unsure what else to do, Carlos followed after and closed the door behind him.

The brightly lit salon momentarily blinded him as he squinted and blinked until everything came into focus. They only had five salon chairs, their red cushions chewed by time and possibly clients. Dizzy sat at a table stocked with nail polishes, stickers, fake jewels, and a tiny UV light. She abandoned reorganizing everything and rushed over to Carlos.

Until Anya abruptly stripped his jacket off and tossed it in Dizzy’s face.

“Oof!” The shorter red-head pulled the jacket off her head. “Ew it smells.”

Anya plainly replied, “It was in the gutter.”

“EWW—!”

“CLEAN IT!” she commanded, aggressive and squeaky. Turning back to an uncertain Carlos, her voice dropped back to being light and sing-song. “Can’t let Cruella see you like this. Into the chair. C’mon.”

Ignoring at being addressed like a pet, Carlos let himself be guided onto the least abused salon chair.

“I’m gonna’ pump up your chair,” Anya delicately announced. Her boot stomped the lever, each crank jolting Carlos up as he clutched the armrests.

The assault ended. “And I’m gonna lay you back.”

He flew backward with a yelp, head landing in the giant sink.

“Hmm maybe I should give you a dry cut first.”

With a pump of her foot on the lever, Carlos shot straight up into a sitting position. His palms dug into the armrests to keep from flying forward. “We don’t have to cut my hair!”

Anya leaned down to his level, putting her hands on her knees. She looked him dead in the eye, never losing her smile, and said in her little voice, “You look like an old man from behind.”

Carlos nervously uttered, “Okay” before she stomped the lever, and he fell back again with a yelp.

He heard a pitter-patter of footsteps followed by Dizzy leaning into view, blocking one of the glaring overhead lights, as she grinned at him. “What are you doing back? The news keeps talking about how the king is graduating tomorrow, and that means you’re graduating tomorrow!”

Technically, he should be graduating today. Sunrise would be in an hour.

Tiny fingers touched the long white hairs hanging near his forehead. “And why’d you straighten your hair?” Her nose scrunched.

Bending at the waist, Anya’s face came into view above him too. “Speaking of, want me to fix—” her index finger widely circled his head “—that?”

“My hair—?”

“Everything.” Anya’s gaze snapped to her cousin. “Dizzy, I do not see you cleaning his jacket.”

The smaller girl’s short pigtails puffed up. “It’s soaking!”

Anya hummed shortly then returned her attention to Carlos. “We’ll get your curls back, but I’m gonna’ need the name of who did this.”

“Mal—” The most annoyed hum from Anya briefly cut him off “—used magic.”

The two Tremaine daughters simultaneously looked at each other, and Dizzy earnestly proclaimed, “I’ll go get the stuff.”

“Stuff—?”

Water splished and spat from the faucet. Having been thrown around since the minute he stepped foot back on the Isle, he was too dazed to complain. When the water hit his scalp, all was forgiven. The spray angled around the sides of his head, behind his ears, and at the back. The ticklish, oozy feeling of shampoo met his scalp before Anya began rubbing it in.

The weight of the last twelve hours set in, and Carlos fell into a deep sleep.

Today was graduation, move-out day, and she hadn’t even packed. Mal knew she should have, but looking at all of her clothes, paint supplies, make-up, skin care, shoes, and general mess, she couldn’t give a damn about inconveniencing anyone. Wearing a magenta romper that looked like a short dress, she leaned back against the wooden headboard with only her goose feather pillow for a cushion. She’d been staring at the same spot on the far wall for at least half an hour. It was so bad that even her mother had noticed and sat at the edge of the tank.

Mal noticed her staring. “Aren’t you proud of me?” Her voice crackled, tired from spending the night intermittently crying and restlessly sleeping. “I cursed a princess to eternal sleep. I betrayed everyone close to me.”

A tear fell from the corner of one eye. Fuck. She couldn’t believe there were still tears left.

“I’m evil like you.” She wiped the tear stinging her face. Her face felt chapped from the sleeves, pillow, bedding, and hands rubbing at it to remove the tears. “Aren’t you proud? Don’t you love me? Or is that ship sailed forever? All because—”

Damn fucking tears kept coming.

“—all because I turned on you for a boy I don’t even love.” But she desperately wanted to, even if he loved Evie.

Mal thought she had, but her feelings for Carlos screwed everything up. But that wasn’t true either. She’d been drowning trying to be good for Ben and Auradon. His love had been both euphoric and stifling — but then Carlos. She’d never felt so close to anyone in her life.

“And now Carlos hates me,” she quietly moaned, a hand covering one side of her face. “I don’t even want to be evil, but it feels like I can never be good.” She sniffled, feeling stupid telling this to her unfeeling mother.

“You used to go on about how evil you were at my age.” Mal looked down at the tiny lizard. “But you never talked about ever being alike. Wasn’t there ever a time you were like me?”

A knock at the door startled her, the rapping too strong to be Jane bothering her. Pushing herself off the bed, Mal hurried to her mirror, reflecting back her pale skin, pinkish nose, and red eyes. Her cold hands pressed against her cheeks, trying to cool her hot, swollen face.

“It’s me,” came the familiar voice through the door.

Conflicting feelings jumbled in her chest. “I’m coming!”

Socks stretched over her feet before she shoved them into high heel boots. Balancing in delicate heels would be impossible. Her boots dragged on the rug before she wrenched the door open, revealing Ben, who looked in a similar state to herself. They took one look at each other and knew. Mal fell into his arms, burying her nose in his starched shirt.

His hands patted her back. “We’ll figure this out.”

She shuddered against him. Ben had no idea it was a bitter laugh. Mal laughed because he unknowingly comforted the culprit. The guilt made her pull away from him, her arms protectively wrapping around herself.

“I came to get you and the guys for breakfast at the castle,” Ben explained. “I know it’s early.” Little sunlight filtered through her curtains to illuminate the room. “I just didn’t think any of us had slept well.”

Mal nodded, pressing her lips together. “Yeah, let’s go—”

A sharp cracking and rattling came from behind her. Mal twisted around so quickly that her hands grasped the doorway to stay upright. She gaped at the bright green, fog-like magic swallowing her mother’s tank. In seconds, her hands frantically searched through the magical outburst, ripped off the black lid and reached inside, searching for her mother. Tiny, blunt spikes poked her fingers. Ignoring the pain, Mal pulled out a large, black and green bearded dragon. Its tail whipped her forearm as tiny black claws clung to her hands.

Mal’s eyebrows pushed together so a deep line formed behind her eyes. “I don’t know what this means.”

Ben standing near her side yet a careful step away, offered, “Didn’t the Fairy Godmother say she’ll be herself again when she learns to love you? Maybe this means she’s a step closer.”

“But—“ Mal squinted, nothing making sense to her “—she has no reason to hate me any less than she did yesterday.”

This wasn’t the first time her mother saw her crying or even the second. Such humiliating displays of weakness would never endear the Mistress of Evil.

‘Were you like me?’

She was no closer to knowing than before — except maybe.

Ben shrugged, not knowing either. Dissatisfied, Mal returned her mother to the now aired out tank and put the lid back on. Idly, she noted that her mother would need a larger tank for this form.

Carlos’ suggestions about adding decorations, like an evil castle, to her tank echoed in Mal’s head. ‘Maybe I’ll try to do that. And, I dunno, maybe try his audiobook idea? Reward for good behavior?’

Decorating it with him would’ve been more fun, but after what said yesterday—

Mal interrupted her thoughts and, breathing deeply, said, “I don’t know if the guys will want to have breakfast with us. They’re probably too upset.”

Ben took her hand and gave her an encouraging squeeze while leading her toward the door then out into the hallway. “Let’s at least check on them. And if they don’t feel like it, I can have something sent back so they can be alone as much as they need to before graduation later.”

The idea of putting on a cap and gown at a time like this seemed ridiculous, like an insult to Evie. She didn’t even feel like eating was appropriate. What was she even doing not crying and actively hating herself right now?

Before Mal could think up another excuse to avoid Carlos, a door down the hallway opened, and out walked her last remaining dorm neighbor, Jane. She shuffled down the hall in her fluffy slippers with Dude in hot pursuit.

Mal’s eyes narrowed at the little dog. ‘Why are you with Jane?’ Something was going on.

The brunette rushed to ask, “Did you say you’re going to check on Carlos and Jay?”

Ben nodded and said, ‘yeah,’ prompting Jane to blather, “Well I checked on them earlier and they were going to sleep in late because of everything that happened and I said I’d bring them breakfast and wake them up with enough time to get ready for graduation so you can totally not check on them!”

Both of them stared at her for different reasons, one for confusion and the other in total suspicion.

“Actually,” Mal said, changing her mind entirely as she looped her arm through Ben’s. “Let’s go check on the guys. Jay is physically incapable of sleeping late after getting up for early morning practice or exercise or whatever.”

Jane trailed behind them the entire way to the boys’ dorms. Mal could hear her dry hands nervously rubbing each other. Ben knocked on the door before the other girls’ fretting made an already frayed Mal snap at her.

The last time she’d gotten angry with Jane was the day of cotillion, and Carlos told her off for it. She’d begrudgingly respected him for that.

The door unlocked, making her heart jump. The door opened to reveal a tired, messy-haired Jay. “Sup?”

“Morning!” Ben said so brightly that came it off uncharacteristically forced. “We wanted to know if you and Carlos wanted to join us for breakfast? Spend some time together before we have to get ready for graduation? It’s a, uh, really big day.”

Considering the king was graduating, there would be no shortage of news cameras and royal attendees gathered for the occasion. The Tourney field was being transformed for the ceremony as they spoke with decorators setting up balloon structures, ribbons, garland, bunting, chairs, and a grand stand. Guards would be lining the school’s perimeter to manage the crowds of common folk who’d line the road to wave at the graduating princes, princesses, and king.

“Yeeaah,” Jay said, delaying before saying, “Sooo — I’ll pass, honestly. Just really tired.”

“Okay,” Ben said easily. “What about Carlos?”

Mal unconsciously tightened her grip on Ben’s arm as she leaned her head, trying to see into the room and past Jay. She held her breath, waiting for the moment a flash of red, black, and white made her stomach drop.

“Yeah.” Jay yawned and leaned his elbow up onto the door frame. “Carlos left last night.”

Warmth left Ben’s side in the same moment Jay stumbled sideways into the door. Mal tore into the room and froze upon seeing Carlos’ side empty, without a sign he’d ever been there. The bed covers were neatly tucked in, his belongings gone, and even the pilfered mannequin had moved out.

She was shivering, nauseated, deaf to whatever Jay was saying as her head spun. Carlos left without a word. He’d ran away, leaving no piece of himself behind for her to grab onto.

Her nails dug painfully into the thin skin of her palm. “Where did he go?” she ground out, looking at no one.

“I was saying,” Jay started, annoyed, “that his butler picked him up in the middle of the night. I was half-asleep, and he said he was leaving early.”

Mal marched over to Jay but stopped short. She didn’t know what she intended to do. Her first thought was that Jay and even Jane were lying, covering something up, but she couldn’t scare Jay into doing anything. That’s one of the reasons he’d been her longest friend.

“Where,” she said, exerting her will into each word, “did he go?”

The muscular boy shrugged. “I dunno. I assumed he either went to that townhouse in London or he’s moving in early to his fancy university.”

So that’s how it was. Jay was siding with Carlos again. Jane, though — no, not with Ben around. But, Mal could squeeze the truth out of her.

“Oh.” Ben visibly deflated. “Um, he has a butler?”

“It’s his mom’s.” Mal turned her attention back to Ben and changed her tone to be softer. “Ask someone to call Hell Hall and ask for the head butler. I want to know where Carlos went.” Her lips twitched up in a smile. “I want to make sure he’s okay and has everything he needs.”

Ben nodded, looking lost in his thoughts. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

He took his phone out and began texting someone, probably Arlette. Mal listened to Jay start small talk with Jane about how well she slept and if she was excited about later. While this went on, Mal swiped something she spied tossed in the waste bin, full of balled-up essays and school notes.

Having no pockets or purse, she hid the cinnamon roll chapstick in her neckline with only Jay as witness.

A door snapped open and shut, rattling in its tired frame. Carlos jolted awake, trying to sit up but failing, his head feeling heavy and the light above too blinding. A weak groan escaped his throat. He turned his head and felt microfiber gently rubbing his ears.

‘What the—?’

His head was still in the sink, now with a small towel wrapped around his head. Right, this was Curl Up and Dye.

“Well well well,” drawled a voice he hadn’t heard in years.

With a stomp on the foot lever, the chair tossed Carlos forward, nearly into his own lap had he not stopped himself. The towel fell off his head and down his shoulders. Sitting upright, he looking into the smirking face of Anthony Tremaine. Besides being a few years older than the last time they met, the taller boy still dressed in tired aristocrat clothes, the fabric thinned from a few decades and missing a few buttons.

“What’s Carlos De Vil doing back?” he asked, curious but careful to sound disinterested in the answer.

“I came for a haircut,” he coolly retorted.

An excited spark ignited his eyes. “Oh is that why you moved into the Fashion Factory?”

Rungs noisily clattered together as Anya reappeared, pulling back a shower curtain hiding a work area. There, Carlos gaped at the sight of Mal’s electric scooter. His first paranoid thought was Mal had followed him, but he just as quickly remembered this was how she and Evie got to the Isle ahead of him and Jay. They’d all returned in the limousine together, and this must be where her scooter had ended up.

She pulled the plastic curtain back into place. “Anthony, earn your keep and dry his hair with a diffuser.”

Anthony made a disgusted sound, likely at the prospect of working. Anya gave him a bug-eyed look that had him reluctantly grabbing a hairdryer and snapping on a diffuser attachment. Carlos wasn’t enthused either, especially when the other boy manhandled the longest hair on top of his head.

“Watch it!”

Anthony let him go and flicked his wrist so the hot air evenly distributed. “I heard you got jumped by Uma’s band of loyal himbos. You’re lucky Anya’s crazy.”

“You’re lucky too,” Carlos shot back. “Or else people would’ve kicked your ass a long time ago for telling them to call you Lord Tremaine.”

The other boy snorted derisively but kept his mouth shut. Carlos didn’t have a personal dislike of Anthony or vice versa, so he was pretty sure. The well-coiffed brunet used to come across annoyingly snobbish, but after meeting certain kids of famously heroic parents, Anthony’s ego seemed humble by comparison.

After several minutes, the hairdryer clicked off, and Anthony’s fingers invaded his hair to check the dryness. “But really, why come back? You guys looked more than at home in Auradon.” Bitterness hued the last few words.

A general rule on the Isle was to not go around airing your business, something deeply imbedded in all VKs. In the same hand was the lesson that if they knew what someone desperately wanted, then you had everything you needed to know to control them. Carlos would have to be careful who he shared his mission with, because people could try controlling him with false promises.

“I want to learn fashion from my mom.”

Both of Anthony’s eyebrows went up. “Oh really?”

Carlos nodded. “I was planning to go to Hundred Acre University to be a vet, but after making clothes for the Royal Cotillion and helping Evie with her boutique, I’ve decided this is what I want to do instead.”

Anthony watched him with clever, moss-colored eyes that searched for a way to unravel this subterfuge. Before he could say more, Anya hip-checked him and said, “Go find Cruella and announce that Carlos is back.”

Her little brother flushed and straightened his sleeves. “I’m a lord. I’m not announcing someone else.”

“Mm,” Anya hummed, displeased.

Before she could decide Anthony’s fate, Dizzy left the cash register, where she’d just been checking out a goblin for a nose hair trim. She gave Anthony a push that barely swayed him while saying, “If we’re gonna pretend you’re a lord, then that means Carlos outranks you as a baron!”

Scowling, Anthony sulked off. Carlos blinked, dazedly waking up to the fact he was apparently important enough to announce.

“Anya,” he nervously started, “We should’ve talked about payment before you did my hair.”

He could almost hear her neck creak as it snapped toward him. “I’m not even done with your hair. But I also washed your face without almost drowning you — that costs extra — moisturized your face, and made Dizzy do some make-up to fix what the pirates did to you.”

Said redheaded girl held up a mirror to Carlos to see her work, and he wasn’t upset. His skin looked bright and smooth. They must have fluffed his eyebrows and perhaps taken plucked a few stray hairs. Carlos really must have been dead asleep to not feel that. Turning his head so the light hit differently, highlighter glowed on his cheekbones.

She grinned toothily, proudly sharing, “I loved your cotillion look so much! I tried finding the closest eyeliner I had to the color you wore. And your lips looked really dry, so I applied some coconut oil—”

“It’s all extra,” Anya bluntly interrupted. “As for payment—” She bent at the waist to be at his level. “You moved into the Fashion Factory?”

“Y-yeah.”

“And you made clothes for the Royal Cotillion?”

On an isle where bartering held more power than coins alone, his mother managed to be the wealthiest thanks to fashion. Everyone needed clothes, so she’d told him while forcing Carlos to learn how to make shirts, dresses, skirts, vests, gloves, and trousers. Their trade was as essential as food. Everyone needed shelter, and that began with the shirt on their backs.

And now, the cotillion had granted him a reputation for fashion. “What do you want me to make?”

She abruptly straightened up, donning her little smile. “I want a new jacket with puffed sleeves and a hood and lace.”

“Deal.” He’d have time. And with access to the Fashion Factory, he’d find the materials. “Dizzy, what do you want?”

She gasped excitedly, her spiky pigtails bouncing as she perked up. “Can I please please please have a pretty dress?” Her current dress, while very pretty, was also splattered with neon dyes.

“Sure,” he easily replied. While he considered what follow-up questions to ask regarding style, Carlos missed Anya picking up the electric razor until it buzzed to life.

“All right, time to see those black roots!” Anya happily declared. “And don’t worry, this isn’t the one that we use for back hair or thick nose trimmings. I juuuust wanna get the white hair off the sides.”

Paralyzed by trepidation, Carlos could not react in time before Anya’s hand clamped on the top of his head, and the razor’s long guard ran along his scalp, just above his neck. He heard Anya’s hoot-like “hm-hm-hm!” laughter as she trimmed another row, going higher.

All Carlos could do was clutch the arm rests for dear life and hope for the best.

Shrugging on his newly cleaned jacket, Carlos stepped out into his first hazy blue morning on the Isle. Thanks to the Fairy Godmother’s magical barrier, gleaming overhead like a bubble ready to pop, grey clouds gathered all day and night. He would have to go to the nearby eastern coast to glimpse the soft orange and pink clouds of sunrise.

The briny ocean air overpowered the faint stench of trash and decay. His fingers self-consciously grazed the short, black strands around his ear and back of his head. She’d declared getting rid of the white hair on the sides of his head brought out his cheekbones, but he wasn’t sure. Carlos originally wanted to grow out his magically straightened hair, but requests weren’t really a thing at Curl Up and Dye.

Touching the long white strands, he noticed they felt a little different from the conditioning treatment. Anya had declared him banned from washing his own hair and that she'd see him next week, because getting his curls back would take time.

He looked down the concrete road to where it met one of the main streets, this one to the bazaar. The Castle Across the Way sat, surrounded by a moat lined with thorny bushes. Gnarled, dead trees, full of leering vultures gathered around the silent, stony prison. Or at least, that’s how he saw it because of how Evie felt about it.

A sad, hungry feeling sat in his stomach. He’d come back here for her.

His head turned, looking past the bakery, past Tremaine Manor, and to the court at the end. Tall wrought iron gates guarded the way to a large lawn, full of sharp, dying grass. Sitting there, as if on a throne, was an old, black Victorian manor.

Carlos took a shaky breath, grit his teeth, and made his way up the cracked pavement.

A yeasty aroma wafted from the bakery. Carlos regretted that in his haste, he and Jay hadn’t raided the school’s kitchens for anything they could get their hands on. He’d need to figure out his food situation fast.

His footsteps dragged. ‘I wonder if she’d let me in the kitchen.’ Maybe to clean it. She always skipped breakfast and would declare he didn’t need it either, something about fasting.

Shaking off the malaise, he straightened his back and marched purposefully forward. The gate was unlocked. Peering past the spear-like posts, Carlos spied someone, and his nerves lifted.

Donning a gardening hat that had been dyed and bedazzled to meet his flamboyant standards, Artie watered the azalea bushes using a rusted watering can with an irregularly bent nose. His off-tune humming became louder as he approached, unaware of Carlos watching him.

“New hobby?” He found himself grinning while opening the creaking gate.

Artie’s grip on the water can slackened, spilling water out of the neck, in his only show of surprise. “Had to vacate the house when Mummy was all broken up about you leaving.”

Carlos didn’t believe his mother missed him so much as his usefulness. But, the yard at present did differ from his memory. Azalea bushes, none with a single flower yet still alive, lined the fence facing the street. A disturbed patch of dirt near the shed was, upon closer inspection, a root vegetable garden.

“Well now, let’s not leave Cruella waiting.” Artie performed a graceful turn in his rubber gardening boots and sauntered up toward the entryway doors.

Looking at her mother’s cohort in fashion, Carlos realized he felt differently about him. He’d generally not understood Artie before, not his sense of style or humor. Perhaps it the gratitude he felt toward Artie for teaching in the skills he’d utilized to make Mal’s dresses. Maybe it was whenever he felt different at Auradon, he would suddenly remember Artie drawling, “I like to say that ‘normal’ is the cruelest insult of them all.”

“The news loved your outfit and that runway walk,” Artie gushed while managing to sound casual. “They were so excited to get to use devil puns again, but they weren’t any more creative than when they were talking about Cruella. Loved that scowl you had, though.”

‘Oh no.’ He knew what was going on his his head during cotillion, but Carlos forgot that other people would just see a haughty, rule-breaking De Vil doing whatever they wanted on the red carpet.

He climbed the first step, readying his stomach to enter his childhood home for the first time in years.

Then the doors flew up, banging into the door frame. Artie swiftly side-stepped out of the way.

“My darling pet!”

Her grin was wide enough to devour someone whole. Her eyes, large and expressive, seemed to catch every little detail on his wide-eyed expression.

“Welcome home.” It was a delivery equal parts inviting and threatening.

He gulped. “Hi Mom.”

She wore her full make-up, including the pale foundation and dark, angular eye shadow. He could tell from the permed bob that this was one of her expensive wigs, kept so she could change her style as quickly as she liked without damaging her iconic hair.

Those big eyes lost their calculating edge as they softened, going round. “Here to apologize for never calling? Never writing?”

His brain froze, assembling a response much slower than it should have. “N—I—I need to talk to you.”

Her expression morphed into a less discernible one, but Carlos felt safe assuming she was mad. “Of course you do.” She turned around and swept inside. Her black fur coat, which had fallen off her shoulders and hung by her elbows, billowed dramatically.

An energy permeated everything she did, including the way she led the way into her parlor and reposed on a crushed velvet chaise long. The parlor’s grand bay window gazed into the front lawn and down the street, almost to the Castle Across the Way. Carlos could even see the side alley he’d used to access the street. For all he knew, Cruella had watched him the whole way.

He tried desperately not to tremble. When he failed to immediately say anything she wanted to hear, Cruella snapped, “So! You’re supposed to be graduating today.” Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “But you’re not.”

From the foyer, Artie took off his rubber boots and called out, “We were going to have a little viewing party for you! Horace is supposed to pick-up some dim sum to cheer up your mother—”

Cruella slammed shut the double doors, giving them some privacy. Promptly, she returned to imperiously reclining on her favorite piece of furniture to sulk on.

“So is that how it is? You only want to talk to me when you need something?” If it had been Mother Gothel speaking, she would have sounded long-suffering. His mother put on no such show. No, she wanted the truth out of him.

The Fairy Godmother did offer to set-up video calls with their parents once a semester. Mal didn’t need one, considering she had her mother for a roommate. Jay alone never missed a chat with his mom and dad. Evie lasted one phone call with her mother before declining following offers. Carlos consistently responded with a short, polite, “No thanks.” The Fairy Godmother would always nod and fail to fight a frown as she said she’d let his mother know.

Talking to his mother was a mine field. He’d become so good at predicting outcomes early on from calculating which comment to his mother could lead to a domino effect he had to endure until it ended.

‘Show her some spine.’ Jay had told him that ages ago about standing up to Mal. Okay, Carlos decided. He’d have to do that.

Even so, telling her then the truth — that he’d wanted a break from her — would be a foolish move. He needed to smarter than that.

“What would we have talked about, Mom?” Carlos considered an armchair but couldn’t bring himself to relax enough to sit. “You didn’t like that I had a dog—”

“Ugly, rat-like thing,” she commented.

“And the rest of our conversations up until that point were you telling me what to do. So, what would we have talked about?” he pressed his point.

Cruella rolled her eyes, but she did shift in her seat. Carlos interpreted that to mean perhaps he got her there. Any video calls would have been her talking over him, ranting on about herself and her own opinions.

“I would have asked you,” she airily began, picking up her long cigarette holder to busy her fingers with, “how they put you in the palm of their hands so quickly. You weren’t there even a week.” Cruella leaned forward. “Did they give you candy? Tell you what a special boy you were and how your evil mother didn’t deserve you? Did they give you a comfy bed with that private school education? Of course they did.”

She bit down on the end of the cigarette holder despite not actively smoking. Cigarettes were a fine commodity on the Isle, and even Cruella had to use her stash sparingly.

Pulling it out, she breathed out from under her teeth. “I saw that little welcome party they threw for you.” Her sharp look told him she’d highly disapproved of his messy entrance.

‘Disrupt.’ That’s what he needed to do. “Did you know they made me join Tourney and R.O.A.R? Because they assumed I had pent up rage issues.”

She blinked — then she guffawed. “You? Pent up rage? Ha-ha-ha!” Her punctuated laughter told Carlos he’d made the right call. “Certainly not in our family! We don’t pent up anything,” she said jovially.

“I got pretty good at R.O.A.R.,” he boasted, carefully seating himself in the worn leather armchair across from her.

She hummed skeptically. “What makes for ‘pretty good?’”

Carlos didn’t have to force the proud half-smirk. “I beat the king. In front of the royal court.”

Cruella sat up, feet back on the floor and nearly forgetting the cigarette holder precariously balancing in her fingers. Leaning forward over her knees, she asked, “Really?! Do go on, pet.”

Carlos found himself telling her about Ben requesting a practice match, that he’d volunteered in a moment of disgust towards Auradon’s royalty, and that he’d won on his terms. The most miraculous part of the story was not in the teller but the listener. Cruella never once interrupted, only chuckling and expressing her emotions in those large eyes. He’d never had his mother’s attention like this in his entire life.

“Mal dragged me out of the castle. I think I freaked her out.” He stopped himself from confessing he’d wanted for the king’s girlfriend in his own castle. Telling his mother he’d fought for the Isle was one thing. He knew better than to say he’d fought for Mal too.

“A bold display. I love it,” she gushed before biting down on the end of her cigarette holder and taking a satisfied drag from it. She’d started smoking after he’d finished his story, possibly in celebration. “On that subject, pet, you really must carry something for self-defense.” Her voice dropped. “I heard about those pirates outside the salon.”

“I’m actually not the one I’m worried about,” he stared, hoping this was the right move. He didn’t know how his mother would take to his mission. “There was an accident, and now Evie is stuck in a death-like sleep.”

Her lips pursed thoughtfully, and Carlos felt his face being meticulously examined again.

“The Fairy Godmother couldn’t wake her up—”

Cruella derisively laughed. “Of course that little sycophant was useless! She was considered weak and inconsequential until she lucked out helping Cinderella, you know. The fame got to her tiny head. But take that wand, and she’s as useless as a mesh shirt in winter.”

“At least a mesh shirt can look good,” he remarked unthinkingly, but his mother did grin approvingly. Much as he wanted in bask in so much positive attention from her, he knew he shouldn’t trust it. His mother was too mercurial. He should stick to the goal at hand.

“Mom, I came back to speak with the only people Auradon would never ask for help.” She hummed in agreement, pensively looking out the window as if knowing what he was about to say. “I need your help getting the other villains to talk to me. I also need to stay in the Fashion Factory—”

“Why should I help you?” she asked, her eyes still on front yard. “You betrayed me, left me, for sweets and pats on the head from people who don’t even love you.”

Those green eyes turned on him, making Carlos sweat as she continued, “Oh but they did love showing off all four of you on the news. Talked about what a pastel little angel Mal had become over a boy wearing yellow trousers. Went on about your impressive scholastic achievements. Talked about how well you’d all assimilated.”

Her tone became venomous the more she went on. “Those fools loved patting themselves on the backs for saving these little children from the very dump they’d created and left us all to fester in. And rather than save us, your family, and all those other little urchins scrounging in trash cans, you betrayed us!”

Cruella was on her feet, and so was he as she took a step forward, bellowing, “You had the chance to save this Isle and you doomed everyone! For chocolates! And a mangy, hideous dog!”

His body trembled uncontrollably. Carlos would have stumbled backwards had his ankles not been pressed up against the armchair. Being forced to stand his ground was just as well. He internally wrestled with his fight or flight response. He needed to think, to step outside of the situation, which was substantially harder with his heart ready to beat out of his chest.

“After the years I spent protecting you!” she shrieked, voice bouncing off the walls. “How I kept you alive in this trash heap! And you bite my hand the moment Auradon gives you everything I could have given you!”

On that last word, Carlos could have sworn her voice cracked with something other than rage.

“If that rat of a king hadn’t stolen it from me—!”

“I’m sorry!” Carlos shouted, but for once, it was not the panicked reaction of child trying to cease an attack. No, Carlos said it with his whole chest. “I’m sorry that when we had the chance, we let everyone down. I’m sorry I stood there and didn’t do anything. I’m sorry.”

The tension brought by her fury hung in the air, and then — “Really?” — it dissipated like a rain cloud. “You’re sorry?”

Carlos thought she looked hesitant to accept his apology, so he continued, “Mom, I’ve been thinking a lot about the Isle lately, and I don’t feel right about this. I don’t feel okay about kids being separated from their parents for the VK Program. Looking back, I feel like—”

The big welcome party, the promised spots on two sports teams, the invitations to every special event with cameras, the video games, the laptop, the cell phone, the 3D printer, Goodness 101 with the Fairy Godmother, Values and Virtues class, the threat of being thrown back to the Isle the moment they did anything bad—

“—we were manipulated. And I was young and I wanted all of those things. I wanted life to be easier.” He squared his shoulders against the crushing truth. “And Auradon knew that! And it’s just like you taught me; if people know what you desperately want, then they already have you in the palm of their hand.”

The floorboard creaked as he shifted his weight. The tension rendered his muscles stiff. Then she raised her chin and looked down her nose at him.

“Sit,” she softly commanded.

Convincing his muscles to relax, Carlos slowly did just that. She followed suit, returning to her chaise long with her elbow propped on the arm rest.

After an extended moment, she thoughtfully said, “I can’t convince people to help you. Grimhilde will for Evie’s sake, and Jafar may speak with you, so long as you butter him up with stories of his son. But for the rest, you will pay your own way.”

Carlos didn’t believe there was anything his mother couldn’t do, but he wasn’t going to beg her to fix his problems. Saving Evie was his mission, not hers.

“But—” Her tone became more business-like “—I don’t do charity. You’ll pay for your keep in the Fashion Factory by working, making clothes for the boutique.”

On the first floor of the factory was a boutique that opened into the bazaar. Though she couldn’t create clothes with fabrics fresh from the manufacturer anymore, Cruella clothed every villain on the Isle. Then there were the more mundane clothes for the lackeys and their families. After all, everyone needed shirts and trousers. No one made them better than the Fashion Factory.

“Deal.” Carlos figured he’d need something to fill his downtime.

“And, to make up for these past few years, you will come to dinner every night.”

He started forward, placing him at the edge of the seat cushion. “Six nights.”

“Six?!” she screeched, insulted.

“I may end up showing up for all seven days, but I need a flex day in case something comes up,” Carlos argued.

She waved a hand disgustedly. “Ugh, fine. You will also have afternoon tea with me for one hour once a week."

Carlos winced and sighed, because of course if she couldn't have an evening, she'd take an afternoon. "Why?" he asked without disguising his annoyance.

"To catch up." She rolled her eyes. "I may have noticed that you are growing up and going to leave me, ungrateful as you are. I want to spend time together."

He huffed another sigh, openly letting her know how vexing he found negotiating with her. "Deal, on the condition that you treat me like an adult and not your dog. And that's just the bare minimum. I also want access to the kitchen."

"Ugh, so needy. I accept." Her lips pursed thoughtfully. “I saw your outfit to the Royal Cotillion.”

Their eyes locked. Carlos knew he’d failed at hiding his nervous hope. So much for Evie telling him he’d never have to know his mother’s opinion on his outfit.

“I saw the dress worn by Maleficent’s brat too — both of them.”

His heart lodged itself in his throat. “H-how? She didn’t change into the second dress until way later in the night.”

“The cameras caught the students departing into their carriages. Really, Carlos, you should always know where the cameras are,” she said, her voice too high and light. “I saw you. Opening that door. Taking her hand. Helping her in.”

Cruella stared into him, and Carlos thought fast. “Yeah, of course I made sure she didn’t fall on her face and dirty the dress. Do you think Mal knows how to walk in a ballgown?”

She blinked and exhaled, giving him the impression she’d perhaps let that thread of thought go.

“You could be—” she looked into the far distance “—something.”

“I — um — what?” Carlos feared to think she might be complimenting him.

She took a puff of her neglected smoke. “Tell me, what were you going to university for?”

He looked down at the small gold sculpture and little green houseplant decorating the dark wood coffee table. “Nothing that matters anymore.”

“I could teach you.”

A cloud of smoke floated around her, the tobacco stinging his nose but making him feel starkly awake. He’d thought his lie to Anthony earlier had been just that.

“On the condition,” she went on, tilting her head to look at him through her eyebrows, “that you never leave me to rot on this Isle again.”

Carlos couldn’t wrap his mind around what she was asking at first. “You mean get you off the Isle?”

“Do you plan on dying here? No? Then why should you be the only one to leave?” Cruella leaned back, relaxing against the cushions. “Everyone was so angry at me for stealing fifteen puppies, but no one is asking how I got the rest in so little time from pet shops.”

“That does imply a really concerning puppy mill problem in Magical London,” Carlos quickly thought aloud.

“All I want is to return to my work,” she asserted. “Returning to the fashion world would be a charity at this point. The only people who looked well-dressed at that little yacht party were you and that girl, almost. You did your best with the yellow and blue dress, pet, but only so much can be done when the royalty has such poor taste.” She tutted. “But that violet dress — yes, I think there’s promise.”

Then Cruella grinned gleefully. “And I adored your little interview! Tell us who you’re wearing?” she mocked Snow White’s child-like voice then pretended to throw a look equal parts annoyed and disbelieving at a make-believe person to her left. “It’s a De Vil.”

She laughed in those loud, punctuated ha-ha-ha’s, sending a shiver up his spine. Still, Carlos considered this a win.

‘I’ll do whatever it takes, Evie.’

One villain down.

Chapter Text

Now that he wasn’t frozen with trepidation or overwhelmed by the mere presence of his mother, Carlos found himself weirdly nostalgic for the old Victorian manor. Not to be mistaken for longing so much as a coziness from the familiar.

The foyer chandelier’s crystals glittered overhead, several having been lost when he converted it into a swing for the rager he’d thrown (or that Mal bullied him into throwing and took the credit). Even the smell of the dusty drapes and faded damask wallpaper tugged at his heart. For as shiny and enticing as Auradon was, Carlos realized those pristine oakwood halls and perfectly trimmed topiary gardens lacked the (perhaps questionable) character emanating from Hell Hall.

Well, this condensed, dilapidated version of it. When they moved all of the villains to the Isle, the Fairy Godmother used her magic wand to recreate their homes but smaller, rotting. Except Maleficent, leader of several rebellions, was given even less: a tiny Bargain castle, while her original home was moved in its entirety to a remote, unlivable portion of the Isle, as if to taunt her.

As for the lackeys, mobs, and goblin armies who’d assisted these villains, they were left to fend for themselves, constructing homes from debris and turning abandoned warehouses into shabby apartments.

Carlos passed the iron knight where his cat Beelzy liked to hide and screech at passersby. He wondered where his old cat was now, if she was still alive. His mother hated him bringing Beelzy inside. Eventually, his little cat took the hint.

Miserable as his childhood in that home had been, Carlos remembered not for the first time how privileged he’d been to get even this much. Anthony had sounded so bitter when talking about Carlos moving to Auradon.

‘He’s probably been wondering this whole time why it wasn’t him. I bet a lot of other kids feel that way.’

If he’d been one of the kids left behind, Carlos couldn’t imagine the despair he would’ve felt seeing the lucky ones get the royal treatment and everything he’d ever wanted. He thought of all the kids Mal bullied, every one of them watching through cracked tube TVs as the girl who stepped on them got her happily ever after.

Carlos would have felt like dying.

His stomach squelched, so he went down a hallway dotted with holes in the wall to reach the kitchen. His mother once said at the real Hell Hall, just outside of Magical London, they had priceless paintings lining the corridors.

The kitchen looked the exact same it had looked the morning he left the Isle. He’d also been forced to clean it more than anything else, so Carlos would be an expert on if anything changed.

Crossing the black marble floor, Carlos knew which cabinets stored the cereal and bowls. He shook two handfuls worth of crunchy flakes into a bowl and grabbed a small bottle of milk from the fridge to splash just enough to soften them. Returning the bottle, he spied leftover potato soup and hoped some might be left come lunch time.

“Really, you shouldn’t be eating before lunch,” Cruella drawled as she followed him into the kitchen. “Now fix me some coffee.”

“Not when you talk to me like that,” Carlos said while stirring his cereal to evenly distribute the milk. “Ask nicely.”

“They taught you manners in that school? Manners are for thin-skinned imbeciles.” She slid into an upholstered chair, one of several lining a round breakfast table. Dull light filtered through the dead vines covering the windows facing the backyard, where his old treehouse should be.

“Or, manners are a way of being kind to people,” he ground out. Rather than joining her, he went to the kitchen island and ate standing. The flavorless cereal crunched loudly, but he knew it would sit in his stomach for a while.

She leveled a look at him. “Would you please fix some coffee using my kitchen, my kettle, my coffee, and my dishes? After you are done eating my cereal, that is.”

The spoon clattered in the bowl. “The cereal that Horace restocks on Dumping Day? In the kettle that I scavenged and cleaned up? Using water from the pipes that Jasper fixed—?”

Her fist slammed on the table. They stared at each other for a long second before her frown switched to a smile full of teeth. “So tell me, pet, when did you get this bite to you? It’s as entertaining as it is vexing.”

His heart rate picked up, the old fear returning. He forced himself to breath and calmly explained, “I’m just done, Mom. I’m just really, really fed up with how people treat me.”

He dug into the remainder of his cereal without looking at her reaction. His confession to Mal about being sick of being looked down on seemed ages ago. The way her hands had cupped his face, the earnest look she’d given him, how she called him a genius who could do anything — Carlos lived with that moment inside of him.

If only she hadn’t used him in ways he’d never imagined.

The spoon scraped against the ceramic bowl, gathering the remaining droplets of milk and cereal dust to an edge. Lifting the bowl to his lips, he drank the remainder, ignoring a hint of sourness. He promptly washed, dried, and returned everything to its proper spots out of habit. As a kid, anything not cleaned now meant getting yelled at later.

Cruella reconsidered her wording, fingers entangling together. “Wouldn’t it be fitting for us to have coffee right now?” Her eyes held a dangerous glint should he talk back again, but Carlos didn’t plan to. That was the closest she came to being polite.

“Sure.” Using tap water, he filled the kettle, its style reminiscent of those lamps Jafar coveted.

While it heated up on the gas stove, he retrieved the black tin of mismatched, stale coffee grounds, all gathered from different discarded containers. He swallowed a lump of sadness while folding thin paper to put in the pour-over dripper.

This would taste nothing like his mochas from the Auradon Prep kitchen. They had a barista every morning to make whatever creamy, frothy, frozen, or hot drinks anyone could dream up. He and Evie used to meet up to order together. She loved getting a chai with a shot of espresso. Carlos remembered her offering him a sip to try it, and she’d laughed when he said it reminded him of potpourri.

‘I should go ahead and grab it now.’ Carlos wished he’d packed it when they moved to Auradon, but he hadn’t known the move would be semi-permanent.

The ‘it’ in question was stored somewhere he never wanted to go again. ‘Theoretically, if I keep making brave choices, that’ll make me brave.’

Time to test that theory.

With a quick, “be right back” at his mother, Carlos left down a corridor toward the foyer. There was a door there that he’d been avoiding thinking about. He even avoided looking directly at it until its old, worn brass knob was within reach.

The fur closet.

When Mal had shoved Evie in there during that infamous party, it had been for ‘seven minutes in Hell.’ Carlos had swallowed his fear to save her from the darkness, the suffocation, and the bear traps. After all, what were seven minutes compared to his entire existence?

His sweaty palm stuck to the door knob. He could’ve sworn he was a having heart palpitations with how much he was sweating.

‘I’m an adult. I don’t have to be scared anymore,’ he reassured the terrified child inside him.

With a turn of his wrist, the gears inside the latch retreated back into the mechanism. The hinges moaned as he opened the door. A musty smell assaulted his senses, and dust wafted into his watering eyes. His jaw clenched determinedly against the fur-lined portal into his nightmares.

Remembering his phone still had a use, Carlos pulled it out and turned on the flashlight. Its beam immediately found the gaping, vicious maws of multiple bare traps.

‘It’s like exposure therapy,’ he rationalized to himself as he journeyed inside. The beam trembled, making it difficult to use. ‘The longer I’m in here, the more I’ll acclimate to the stimuli until its effects are nearly void.’

His feet quickly remembered how to move through the closet and around the traps. Soft furs brushed the sides of his jacket and his hands. The room had once seemed so much bigger, and the steel traps so much more intimidating.

Eventually, he emerged from the fur forest and to a plain wood door. Pushing the door open, his hand thoughtlessly found the light switch to the single bulb. Like lighting, the small space was briefly illuminated then dark. The bulb had gone bad.

Using the cell phone’s light, he found the corner of the old mattress. He paused there.

Carlos’ eyes began to prickle, but he blinked it away. He froze, rooted to the spot and dreading revealing any more.

‘I’m almost done,’ he told the churning in his stomach.

The light washed over a grey lump on the floor. Fabric scraps, bits of fluff, rug pieces, towels — it was any soft thing he could find to make the old mattress more comfortable, just like he’d told Jane during cotillion. He spent so many cold nights that way, curled up like a pill bug, feeling like it wouldn’t matter if he lived or died. Except, he always had a device or book that needed finishing, so he’d get up morning after morning.

Carlos wished so badly he had his friends in that moment. He’d even let Mal talk to him.

That snapped him out of it. He wanted nothing to do with Mal anymore. Looking around more, he found what he sought tossed uncaringly into a corner — in pieces.

Panicked, Carlos threw himself to the floor, setting his phone aside with the light now striking the ceiling as he gathered the pieces of Evie’s gift: the first pillow he’d ever received. Kneeling on both knees, he gathered the pieces and pressed them to his chest.

He’d brought Evie back here, where she’d be safe from the bear traps, but at the cost of revealing just how pathetic he was. Before the humiliation could kill him, Evie surprised him. Instead of reacting with disgust or pity, she tactfully mentioned she had an extra comforter she didn’t need anymore and asked if he’d like it.

“Do you think you might have a pillow you were going to throw out too? I’ve never had a pillow — I mean, I’ve had tons of pillows, of course. So many!” he’d blathered back then. “We have to keep throwing them away! I get so many pillows. I mean, who’s never had a pillow in their life?”

And she’d played right along. “Yeah, I think we were going to throw away a pillow.”

Fluff fell from the fabric he clutched even tighter, bowing his head as the sweetness of the memory and the horror of finding her gift destroyed clashed inside him.

Something — someone — had torn it apart. His shock and horror quickly gave way to a white, hot rage.

Seizing his phone, he exited through the way he came. A cacophony of snapping metal chased his feet. His fears forgotten, he threw open the closet door and kicked the a bear trap that dared snap at his ankle. The metal contraption skidded across the moth-eaten rug as he stormed into the kitchen.

Cruella stood cross-armed next to the emptied kettle and watch the hot water seep through the blooming coffee grounds. She’d barely looked up in surprise before Carlos smacked the pillow’s remains on the kitchen island.

“How could you do this to me?!”

Her wide eyes turned on him, vexed. “What ever—”

“It was the one thing that was mine!” he yelled, fingers pressing into his chest. “It was a gift from my friend! It was from Evie, and you ruined it!”

Cruella indignantly examined the fabric and realized where he’d gone. With an annoyed huff, she explained, “I was furious with you for not coming home! How was I to know you’d want that thing? You’d left it here before you abandoned me!”

“Did you want to hurt me? Is that it?” Carlos never imagined his own voice would be bouncing off the vaulted ceiling. “I was a kid! You say you kept me alive, but I swear it was just to clean this place! To brush your furs!”

He wanted to be louder, so he let himself. “People thought you had a dog instead of a son!”

Cruella stood still, arms at her sides, and green eyes aglow. “I taught you how to work hard! How to take care of yourself! I taught you a trade that would keep you alive! While Grimhilde, Maleficent, and all the others were filling their children’s heads with a make-believe future of ruling Auradon, I was teaching you how to make the most of right now!”

The brass chandelier overhead swung from their yelling.

“But you never cared if I was cold!” Carlos fought back, willing himself not to lose the nerve now.

A glimmer of wild rage entered her eyes as she screamed, “And who put those fur collars on your jackets, you ungrateful brat?!”

Her fury became palpable, and he nearly shrunk, but R.O.A.R. taught him sometimes he had to meet force with force. Carlos suddenly remembered the distance trap he’d pulled on Ben. When the taller boy lunged, Carlos had feinted, pretending to go into striking distance just before hopping back. Ben had swung, striking air. Carlos then hopped forward, back into range, and struck.

That might work.

“I never should have come here.” Carlos turned and marched down the hole-filled corridor to the foyer. “Enjoy your coffee and your life.”

He kept his chin up and eyes forward, but he feared she’d fail this test. He badly needed her to react the way he thought she might. Mal had pursued him after he’d told her not to talk to him.

“—Pet—Carlos—WAIT!”

He stopped in front of the double doors but did not turn around. He listened to her heels clomping after him before coming to a stop nearby. She breathed heavily and said nothing for a moment now that he’d stopped. Cruella De Vil, his mother, was carefully weighing what she’d say to him. In a single visit, he’d made her rethink treating him so carelessly.

“I was going to say,” she said, trying to sound more casual than she obviously felt, “that I only ripped it along the seams. It’s entirely reparable.”

He quick-turned on his heel to face her, frowning and arms crossed, waiting on his reaction.

Growing up, she would bark orders or lobby complaints at him without a glance in his direction. Looking her in the eye was a new experience he’d not gotten used to. Carlos started to wonder if she really did want to have some kind of relationship with him, now that she’d learned he could leave her. Part of him wanted to shake her or to keep yelling, but his anger had a longer fuse and shorter life than hers.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t still angry. “I need a mattress, blankets, and pillows to sleep on tonight. And I need it in the Fashion Factory. I took the old office space on the top floor.”

She blinked, not having expected that. “Of course.” She snorted. “Obviously. I’ll put Horace and Jasper on it when they return. Now come along.” Cruella strutted off toward the kitchen with Carlos following after. “If the coffee is cold, then I’ll really be in a foul mood!” Her joking tone belied her sincerity.

His mother seated herself at the table, and Carlos pour their coffees, still steaming. After delivering her cup, he regretted not saving milk for his own. The bitterness didn’t sit well with him, but with his energy drink addiction, Carlos accepted what caffeine he could get.

‘The addiction was worth it.’ Energy drinks fueled his mad creation of the violet dress. Mal loved that dress. Even his mother thought it was impressive.

‘She said I could be something.’ He so badly wanted to ask her to explain what she meant. ‘Does she think I could be a fashion designer?’

In the De Vil household, fashion was not frivolous. Clothes were art, politics, and language. They were a cornerstone of society, shaping people in ways they weren’t fully cognizant of. This was serious business, and his mother might actually think he could be something in that space.

Because of the violet dress. Mal had stunned in it. He wanted to see that footage of her wearing it, because all he had was a memory. Carlos almost felt glad that Ben hadn’t seen her in it. That meant Mal, at her most beautiful, had been just for him.

He was so lost in thought remembering when she first saw the dress and the way she wore it that he missed his mother picking up the old rotary phone. Her black gloved finger spun and spun the wheel, dialing a number.

After a few seconds of waiting, he learned who she’d called.

“Grimhilde! Dahling!” Her demeanor soured “— Well yes, obviously I know it’s before eleven — You should be less concerned about your beauty sleep and try fasting instead, dear — No, it doesn’t cause wrinkles! Look at me — Grimhilde, I am not calling to correct you on your beauty routine. My son is home with news of your daughter. Be here by noon or I shall send him away!”

The phone slammed on the receiver, which was not unaccustomed to the abuse. The floor creaked as his mother stomped out through a servant’s hallway to the parlor. A series of seams violently ripping apart made him jump. Then Cruella reappeared, gripping a throw pillow with its white guts exposed. She snatched up the remains of Evie’s pillow and disappeared in the direction of her workshop without so much as a look at him.

Exhaling, Carlos leaned back against the kitchen counter. Sipping his steaming coffee, he reflected on how he wasn’t a small kid anymore, and he knew how to handle difficult people.

Evie laid motionless on a bed in the east wing yet everyone acted like he needed to move on, life as usual. Ben had no patience for the royal hairdresser, tailor, or anyone touching him. An agitated energy like he’d never known itched in his bones.

Preparations for the graduation party being hosted by Castle Beast were in full swing. The finest bakery in the Kingdom of Auradon carted in a massive cake replica of Auradon Prep. Over five hundred cake pops shaped like the school’s crest were being arranged under a massive congratulatory banner in the grand ballroom. The castle smelled lush like a hot house as every gardener in the kingdom and neighboring kingdoms delivered yellow roses to be arranged in bright blue vases and on every possible surface.

Cogsworth flitted everywhere to give feedback on everything, even if no one was listening. He continually found Ben and relayed the countdown to his hair appointment, to lunch, to final practice for his graduation speech, and to graduation rehearsal.

Everything moved quickly and smoothly around Ben until—

“I’m not going to graduation. Or the party.”

—he was difficult for the first time in his life.

Cogsworth fumbled his tablet as he followed Ben, who walked in the opposite direction he should be going to get dressed for graduation. “But sire, you must! You’re the king.”

“Giving a graduation speech is one of the least important things I could be doing right now,” he snapped, ascending the stairs to the east wing. “And do people really expect me to attend a party when one of my friends is in a magical coma?” Ben absolutely refused to appeal to such people.

He heard frantic typing behind him. Perhaps Cogsworth sought help from Lumiere or his parents to make him obey. Ben wanted everyone to stay away from him if they weren’t going to even try to understand. Evie’s condition seemingly disappeared from their minds the moment morning came and graduation prep began.

With long, quick steps, he reached her room and entered without knocking.

“He’s not there?!” Mal was snapping at Arlette. His girlfriend sat in a chair beside Evie’s bed, with her back toward Ben. “Well has anyone reached the De Vil butler?”

The brass-haired girl evenly responded, “No, mademoiselle. The lawyers are being tight-lipped, but the house staff stated he will return our call.”

“When?” she stressed.

“They did not say,” was Arlette’s clipped response.

Mal shakily exhaled, her fists clenching her dress’ skirt until it wrinkled. “I want them called every thirty minutes. I don’t care if they work for the De Vils. No one snubs a call from the castle.”

Arlette gave a flat affirmative and left, passing Ben with a tight-lipped smile. “Bonjour, Ben.”

Mal snapped around in her chair to stare at Ben in surprise. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He approached her, and she rose to tightly hug him. “Looking for Carlos?”

She squeezed him, her shoulders hunching, before she let go. “It feels like I lost two friends in one day.”

“We’ll get them back,” was his knee-jerk reaction to say, to reassure her. Ben didn’t ask why Carlos ran off.

He already had a guess.

Looking past Mal, he observed Evie, eyes closed and hand still resting over the rose he gave her as a symbol of — something.

Looking down at a head of purple hair, he wondered if Evie confessed her feelings for him to Mal. He knew he should tell her, but he didn’t know what else to say with it. Naturally, she’d ask how he felt toward Evie. The truth was he didn’t know.

Or, Ben wondered, was he deceiving himself? He felt something strong toward her. He just didn’t know how to define it. Friendship was part of it but not all of it. He couldn’t say he loved her, because he already loved Mal. If he could fall in love with two different people, then how he could believe that was even love at all? Love was one time, with one person. No one in the entire United Kingdoms of Auradon’s royal court had fallen in love twice.

And even worse, if he fell in love with Evie, that would be the ultimate betrayal of what he’d promised Mal on their first date, to teach her what love was like. She’d given up her entire, old way of living for him. He couldn’t fall in love with someone else after what she’d sacrificed for them to be together. She fought a dragon, her own mother, for him. Ben didn’t want to be the kind of person who’d betray that kind of love.

He pulled her closer to warmly kiss her forehead. ‘I won’t do that to you.’

The door loudly opened as his father, suited in dark navy that brought out the broadness of his stature, marched inside. “Ben, your mother and I understand that what happened yesterday was upsetting, but you’re the king now,” he wasted no time saying in the deep, commanding tone. “You have to swallow your feelings and do what’s best for the monarchy and everyone under your command. You’re not allowed to wallow like a child anymore.”

His ears burned at the accusation, as if he’d ever done anything than be obedient to his parents. Ben noticed his mother, dressed in a yellow pantsuit with a glittering crown atop her head, crossed the carpet is quick little steps to set herself at her husband’s side.

“Honey, we know what happened with Evie was awful, but she wouldn’t want you to miss your big day,” Belle gently persuaded him.

His jaw clenched, biting down the unfamiliar desire to snap at his mother for speaking as if she knew Evie well at all. ‘Evie would understand how I felt. She’d listen and help me instead of telling me what to do.’

Mal’s hand rubbed the middle of his back through the robin’s egg blue button-up shirt he’d thrown on. “Hey. Everyone’s going to want to hear your big speech.” She half-smiled up at him. “Someone has to wake the crowd up after the Fairy Godmother gets done talking.”

Ben turned his head to look down at Evie. Her blue hair spread across the white pillow. ‘Maybe she should be changed into something more comfortable to sleep in than her day dress.’ Not that she’d notice, but maybe when she woke up someday, she’d feel the difference sleeping in soft linen or cotton.

Her bare feet rested with toes pointing toward the ceiling. ‘When I sleep like that, the back of my feet kind of hurt. Maybe her feet should be leaned to one side?’

“Ben?” Mal brought him back to the present as her hand touched his cheek. “Let’s go get ready.”

Her fair skin made her tired, pink eyes all the more prominent, prompting him to say, “You don’t have to attend graduation if you’re not up for it.”

Her gaze dipped down at Evie then back up to him. He thought she’d take him up on the offer, but with a deep breath, she declared, “We’ll go together.” Mal removed her hand and replaced it with a kiss.

The agitation inside him died, and he exhaled for what felt like the first time since yesterday morning. ‘Oh my god. Yesterday morning, Evie was awake and everything was fine.’ Though the pain of this happening was fresh, the distance between the present and the last time he spoke with her seemed like weeks.

He took Mal’s hand and kissed the back of it in thanks. When they turned toward his parents, he found them watching with big, approving smiles. His mother declared them ‘so sweet’ while his father gave Mal a proud wink.

Walking with them out of that room felt wrong. That the world would march on and he’d be forced to go with it while Evie laid there stirred a burning anger in his chest. But, he reached a degree of peace as the door closed behind him. He imagined asking Mrs. Potts for new bedclothes to be made for her, for new bedding in calming shades of blue, and that roses be kept in her room every day. He could think of all this while doing what everyone expected of him.

But more than anything else, even when he tried focusing on other matters, Ben would be working the riddle of who could save Evie.

Carlos passed the time after breakfast doing something he’d never dared do as a child — nap on the parlor couch. Staying up all night and sleeping briefly with his head in a salon sink were finally catching up to him, so he cozied up with the remaining throw pillow and pressed himself into the back of the couch.

He slept for maybe two whole hours, momentarily broken at times by sounds of life outside the window and beyond the gate. Rickshaws driven by Prof. Rattigan’s daredevil crew clattered down the street. The bell to the Tremaine bakery rang every so often as customers followed the enticing aroma of warm yeast.

That’s right, Carlos remembered as he blearily stared at the lines of fabric making up the couch. This could almost be considered a peaceful pocket on the Isle, because only his mother was allowed to bring noise and chaos here. No one else dared to act up near her lawn.

Wakefulness returned to him when he recognized the ringing not from the bakery but from much closer, inside the house. The bell rang in quick intervals split by seconds. Then mid-ring, the sound stopped.

Carlos sat up, his sleep-deprived brain gathering that was a phone ringing and being answered. Curiosity drove him too his feet and down several halls and a flight of stairs, where he knew his mother’s workshop to be.

He remembered last second where to avoid the soft, creaky spots in the floor as he managed to arrive outside her closed door without making a sound.

“—has a mouth on him now. I’ll be proud when he’s not using it to shout at me,” Cruella’s voice came through the door. She naturally spoke louder than everyone else, making eavesdropping on her exceptionally easy.

His heart soared. Carlos was scared to believe his mother could be proud of him.

A quiet moment passed as she listened then died with a loud, singular laugh. “Lady of the Court? HA! Someone needs to tell her that title only means she’s fit to have the king’s ‘scepter’ shoved up her — No, John, we are not telling her anything. If my son wanted her to know, I imagine he’d have told her.”

Something scraped a wooden table, and he heard his mother exhale through her teeth. “Something is going on — Really?” She cackled. “That would’ve been the most interesting news in over two decades if they’d done it! Oh but instead, he ran away without her.” She giggled maliciously.

Carlos’ whole expression dropped. His mother was talking about him and Mal.

“ — He’s obviously covering for her. It’s disgusting — I don’t care if even the crown sends an inquiry. Lie! What else can they do to me?” Her tone took a mock-sad tone. “Not invite me to parties? Take the baron title? Sue me? HA! They’ve already played every card they have!”

So someone, either Mal or a representative of the royal family, had contacted John about him. And somehow, his mother spoke with John over the phone. Carlos knew if he checked his phone or WiFi signals right now, the icons would be gravestones. There was a reason why royal couriers delivered letters to their parents when the Core Four were invited to attend Auradon Prep.

‘So how is Mom talking to John right now? Phones on the Isle can only reach each other.’

The phone slammed down onto the receiver, though not out of any anger. Force was simply Cruella’s nature. Silently scrambling his way back to the parlor, Carlos fell onto the armchair in time for Cruella’s pointed stomping to follow after him.

She narrowed her eyes down at him. “Don’t tell me you’ve already wasted all those years at Dragon Hall! There are primary school children there who eavesdrop better than that!”

Her stilettos nearly put another tear in the parlor’s large area rug, an ancient piece from Agrabah with countless holes. She then threw a pillow squarely into his chest before reclining on her chaise long.

Carlos looked down at the object he’d caught with both arms and recognized the pattern. His mother had repaired and re-stuffed Evie’s pillow. ‘Thanks’ nearly escaped him, but his mouth remained shut. He wasn’t going to thank the person who’d repaired what they’d broken. Carlos considered this the end of the matter and moved on.

“How do you think she’ll react to Evie’s condition?” Carlos asked, part of him still amazed he could speak to her and expect a response instead of a barked order.

“Grimhilde should be thrilled at the news. Some of the most prestigious princesses met their princes on their backs.” Cruella grinned awfully. “Asleep, of course.”

“I don’t think Evie’s interested in princes anymore.” Carlos left out seeing Evie kissing a king. “She was dating Dopey’s son.”

Cruella burst into laughter. “Dopey had a son?! What was his name? Droopy?”

“Uh, it was Doug.”

This further tickled her. “Doug? I’ve never met a single interesting person named Doug! Do go on!”

Carlos knew not to indulge her and checked his phone’s clock. Fifteen minutes past noon. Now that she’d be fashionably late, the Evil Queen could appear anytime. And speak of the sorceress, a sharp knocking at the door made him sharply turn toward the foyer.

Carlos jumped to his feet but stopped when Artie called out, “I’ve got it!”

In seconds, the front doors opened, and the blond man could be heard saying, “Grimhilde, dahling, you look fabulous. Take your cloak?”

Carlos’ anxious listening ended when Cruella caught his eye. “Sit. And don’t look so desperate. She’d love that.”

Carlos plopped into the armchair, because she was right. On the Isle, it was never good to look too eager. There would be people on every street to take advantage of that.

Grimhilde swept in, her long cape literally sweeping the dust on the floor as she attempted a grand, showy entrance. “Cruella! How rude of you to demand I visit you instead of visiting yourself. I had to take a rickshaw here. Too much exercise and I’ll become as muscular as a man!”

“Grimhilde!” Cruella welcomed her with a crocodile smile. “You remind me why your visits call for a hard drink.”

Evie’s mother seated herself on the old upholstered couch where Carlos had just been sleeping and spread her cape to take up as much space as possible. “You know I abstain from the drink. It causes bloating, but you would know that.”

Anyone from Auradon would assume the two women hated each other, but on the Isle, it was all pleasant small talk.

“You may change your mind for the occasion,” Cruella said, rising to get herself a drink from a large glass cabinet full of amber, green, and clear liquid bottles and monogrammed crystal glasses. “Pet, tell Grimhilde what you need her for.”

Carlos opened his mouth to talk, but Grimhilde was quick to incredulously retort, “Need me? No no, dear, I live to be served. Not the other way around!”

Scooting to the edge of the armchair, Carlos set his pillow behind him and tried gaining her attention. “Evie is in trouble. She’s under some kind of evil magic spell that put her in a death-like sleep.”

Grimhilde sharply turned to look at him — and blinked. She squinted at him as if trying to place who he was or where she’d seen him from.

“Did—did you hear anything I just said?”

The round-faced woman turned to Cruella, who swirled vodka in a martini glass. “Who is this? He looks familiar.”

Carlos gave his mother a sharp look and hoped she was also thinking about what he’d just said earlier that morning. The way she avoided looking directly at him by gazing at the ceiling and pretending to think made him think yes, she was.

“My son, Grimhilde,” she tightly replied.

“Oh, the cleaning boy!” She turned back to Carlos. “And you were saying?”

He winced. ‘Chill, man,’ Jay’s voice echoed in his head.

“Evie,” he emphasized, “is in trouble. She was struck with magic, and now she’s in a death-like sleep.”

Grimhilde’s hands pressed over her chest. “And where is she now?!”

“At Castle Beast—”

“And the king?”

“He’s trying to look after her—”

“YES!” She leapt to her feet with the most energy she’s had since attempting to murder a princess. “My darling, genius little girl! She’s done it!”

A frozen Carlos and Cruella silently looked at each other in mutual surprise. Grimhilde paid neither of them any mind at all, her eyes sparkling as if seeing the future play out in her mind.

“He’ll wake her with True Love’s Kiss, ditch that little fairy, and they’ll marry and I’ll be on my way to the mother-in-law wing!” Grimhilde animatedly giggled and clapped her hands.

She waved a hand at Cruella. “We must start on my mother-of-the-bride dress! NO! Mother-of-the-future-QUEEN dress!” She laughed at her own marvelous fortune.

If she got too carried away, then she’d be no help. Carlos stood up and raised his voice to say, “Ben is still with Mal. Both of them had their chance to end their relationship, and they didn’t!” Anger hued his words. “They chose each other! So don’t count on Ben doing anything helpful! I’ll be satisfied if he can keep them from tearing her horns off.”

Grimhilde plopped back onto the couch, making her cape momentarily poof up. Arms crossed, she sourly asked, “Then why did you call me here? If he doesn’t wake her with True Love’s Kiss, then Evie’s brilliant plan is for naught!”

“Why can’t a kiss from a friend who loves her work?” Carlos implored, ignoring that Grimhilde had convinced herself this was all Evie’s idea. “I’ve known her longer! She and I have way more history between us than her and Ben!”

His throat was beginning to tire from yelling so much. He’d briefly forgotten that raised voices and shouting were another part of Isle culture.

“Oh ever since Elsa hugged her sister, everyone thinks that any old love will do.” Grimhilde dismissively waved her hand. “That was an entirely different magic!”

Cruella sipped from her martini glass. “And you said it was an evil spell, pet.”

Her eyes and ears missed nothing. Carlos realized his mother paid him more attention than their guest.

Grimhilde, completing missing the air about Cruella, went on, “Oh yes, and evil spells were specifically designed to only be broken by romantic love. There is no such thing as an unbreakable spell. Like how every lock demands a key, every spell demands a counter spell.”

He sat up, cautiously excited that she’d begun to make coherent sense and say something helpful.

“Romantic love is soooo much rarer.” Grimhilde turned back to Cruella. “We’ll need to take my measurements again. I suspect my waist has gone in quite a bit.”

Cruella’s red lips formed a mocking smile before she emptied her glass. Carlos, meanwhile, reeled from the news that only True Love’s Kiss would wake her. Even if Ben wanted to kiss her, he wouldn’t without her consent. Attitudes toward kissing sleeping princesses had changed in the last two decades.

“For my dress, I’m thinking a tall collar, the most extravagant blue beading, absolutely none of that hideous yellow, add a long train—”

“There has to be another way.” Carlos began to pace the length of the large, fringed rug. “There has to be some way around this spell that doesn’t involve True Love’s Kiss. Who else on the Isle might know something?”

Cruella’s empty glass clicked at she set it on the coffee table. “You’ve been awfully vague, pet, about what exactly happened. Perhaps if we knew more?”

He stopped and recognized the shrewd glimmer in her eye. Carlos weighed the harm in sharing more. From the phone call, she’d already ascertained so much.

“Mal panicked, and she accidentally cursed Evie. She’s not exactly sure what she did either. She didn’t speak in verse the way she usually does. Her fingers were doing the green electricity thing, and when she grabbed Evie’s arm, she zapped her.” He spoke to Grimhilde, hoping she’d have something more to say.

“It’s anyone’s guess what she did,” Grimhilde said flippantly as she pulled out a compact to examine her make-up. “But whatever it was, True Love’s Kiss will do the job. Now Cruella, about my dress—”

“Another time, Grimhilde. Now get out.” Cruella stood up, as it was only bad manners for the head of the house to chase guests out the door. After some raised voices and colorful threats, the dual-haired woman helped her guest out the door with a lively shove.

Carlos stayed in the parlor to sink into the armchair and hug Evie’s pillow to his chest. ‘That was admittedly a long shot anyway.’ There was a reason he’d anticipated this being a multi-week process.

The senior year students of Auradon Prep buzzed around the dining hall as they waited for the signal to line up and go down to the Tourney field for the ceremony. The dining hall tables were pushed against the walls to make room for balloon arches in the school colors and the complimentary shaved ice cart to help students keep cool in the sweaty excitement.

Mal stood purposefully alone, near where snacks would typically be set-out during the school day. She’d only gone to graduation to support Ben, who’d immediately been pulled away to be with the other commencement speakers. Jay raised his spirits by hanging out with the rest of his jock buddies. She didn’t blame him for not wanting to hang out with her. He was already covering for her.

‘Evie should be here right now. So should Carlos.’ They were the academically gifted of the group. They’d done the most to forge their futures.

But Mal had crushed that work.

Per Arlette’s phone call with Hundred Acre University, Carlos had not made any arrangements for early check-in to the freshman summer seminar. Him being there had been unlikely, but she’d hoped for that outcome the most. Now, she’d have to go through the De Vil household of hellishly loyal staff and lawyers. Arlette forewarned her that more than a few people had worked for the family since the last baron, known to have been a kind old man.

“Mal!” Rachel nearly bounced over to her. “Come join us at the photo booth!”

The violet-haired girl noticed she’d attached her graduation cap to a clear headband so it would stay on her head. Mal supposed she struggled to fit the cap over her head and giant braid.

“No thanks.” Mal crossed his arms, hands hiding at her sides. “I’m not feeling super festive.”

Rachel’s smile dipped, and her forehead wrinkled. “I’m so sorry about Evie. I hope she wakes up soon.”

Her mouth went dry, and she could only nod in thanks. The way everyone kept being so nice to her and comforting her made Mal sick with guilt.

And then as the universe loved taunting her, Rachel asked, “So where’s Carlos?”

Great, Mal thought. Now she’d also have to start dealing with the fallout of him disappearing.

With a steadying breath, Mal replied, “I’m not sure.”

“Oh, well, if you see him, tell him I was looking for him?” Rachel asked, her smile returning.

As if poison entered her soul, Mal decided even if she did know where Carlos was, she wouldn’t tell him that at all. She wanted to ask if Rachel had developed a crush on him, but she instead managed a curt, “Sure.”

The other girl nearly skipped off in her pre-ceremony excitement. Rather than bask in being alone to mope, Mal’s eyes sharply landed on Arlette, who hovered near the doorway. She’d graduated the previous year, allowing her to work full-time as household staff to the royalty. Most importantly to Mal in that moment, Arlette’s cell phone was out and being offered as the older girl approached her.

“Phone call, mademoiselle,” she said flatly, offering her phone.

Mal snatched the phone so quickly that her manicure scraped the other girl’s hand. “Is it the butler?”

Arlette rubbed her hand, but her face belied none of her thoughts. “Oui. It is John.”

Impertinent as Mal found Arlette to be, she was more useful than anything. Eyeing the crowd for anyone overly curious, Mal pressed the phone to her ear and coolly answered, “This is Lady Mal.”

“Congratulations are in order. How can I be of service, my lady?”

His politeness took her aback, as she expected someone haughtier working for Cruella. “Jay said that you picked Carlos up late last night. Where did you take him?”

“I am to understand the Baron is seeking privacy at this time.”

It was like walking into a courteous stone wall. Although, the idea of Carlos actually being a baron was hot and suited him.

“I’m the Lady of the Court. I’m due an answer,” she said, her tone steely.

To her side, she heard Arlette mutter under her breath, “A lady is lower than a baron.”

For both the butler and Arlette’s benefit, Mal added, “I’m going to be queen someday. Lying to me now is lying to the crown.”

The other girl pressed her hands into her linen suit’s jacket and muttered something else, but Mal could not hear her when the De Vil butler’s deep, serious voice came through the speaker.

“I wish you a happy future with the king. But someday is not today,” he reprimanded her in the most courteous manner known to man. “Today, you are a lady, and a lady cannot demand from a baron that which he is not willing to give.”

“He’s not even a baron,” she seethed, even though she didn’t believe it the moment it came out of her mouth. “All of the titles were revoked.”

“His mother had no title to revoke,” John explained, his tone having changed very little from when he’d first spoken to her. “The title, which he inherited from his grandfather Baron Oscar Von Hellman, is passed to male heirs.”

Mal kept her mouth shut to save herself from losing face anymore than she had. Instead, she shoved the phone back at Arlette without looking at her. She imagined the other girl found her lacking as Lady of the Court and Ben’s future fiancee. Arlette took the phone without touching Mal and politely thanked John for his time before ending the call.

Pocking the cell phone in her trouser pocket, she asked, “Now what would you like to do?”

Mal huffed a sigh and crossed her arms. “Nothing.” She looked away. “Thanks for your help.”

“Pas de probleme.” Arlette promptly left, no doubt glad to be done serving Mal for the time being.

But Mal had lied, because she refused to do nothing. Losing was not in her nature.

Chapter Text

She’d fallen farther than Mother Gothel from the tower, farther than Frollo from Notre Dame, and farther still than Gaston from Castle Beast. She’d fallen all the way until she hit — her bed. Head and heart pounding, she awoke from a terrible nightmare. Her fingers clutched at the comforter, where most of the stuffing had gathered in the corners.

And there had been a boy’s voice, calling out her name. The way he begged broke her heart even now. But his voice faded the farther she fell. She could barely remember the sound of him now.

Hinges shrieked as a door flew open.

“Good morning, my little princess!” an imperious voice gushed.

A sleepy grumble escaped from under the scratchy comforter. A hand gently shook her shoulder, but she turned away from it, burying the side of her face into a pillow. The stuffing had migrated to the other side, so she partly nuzzled the mattress.

“I said good moooorning!” the woman’s voice trilled, giving her a more insistent shake.

There wasn’t even any light in the room. It couldn’t possibly be time to—

“Wake up!” A hand yanked the comforter from her, exposing her bare feet and ankles to frigid air.

She sat up and rubbed the little crusties from the corners of her eyes. A curtain must have been thrown open, because suddenly there was too much light for her to open her eyes.

“Why is it so early?” a little girl’s voice grumbled.

“You must get up at six hours, six minutes on your sixth birthday to make sure you grow up marvelously evil. That’s why we retired to bed so early last night.”

With a start, she realized she knew that voice.

“Mother!” She threw herself forward, clutching the woman’s dress out of fear and relief. Something horrible had happened, but thank goodness at least her mother was here.

“Evie! Really!” Grimhilde picked her up and set her on her feet. “Behave like a princess, because only princesses get special pastries on their birthday!”

“But it’s not my birthday,” said the little girl again. Except that’s what Evie meant to say. She touched her throat, as if to feel her voice buzzing inside. “Mommy, what’s happening?”

‘And when was the last time I called you Mommy?’ Evie felt half herself. Part of her wanted to ask what Mal did to her, but an equally strong part of her wanted nothing more than to eat a sugary pastry and enjoy her birthday.

“Evie, don’t be ridiculous,” Grimhilde said while checking her lipstick in the standing mirror with the oxidized bronze frame. “I didn’t arrange the most decadent party this dusty old Isle has ever seen for nothing! Maleficent is going to be so sour for not getting in an invite. Serves her right for treating me so!”

Her mother began marching around the room and swishing her great cape. “Going around and acting as if she were better than any of us! As if she still had her powers!”

Evie let her mother rant as she slowly made her way to the mirror. How her mother towered over her was enough of a hint. She could have also just looked down at her body, but Evie wanted to see her face, as if that might confirm whether or not she’d gone crazy.

In that mirror, so old it was still made of silver, Evie saw the cute, round face of a little girl just turned six.

Gasping, she touched the smooth skin of her face and her unbrushed mass of dark blue hair. This had to be part of the nightmare, she desperately tried convincing herself.

Evie darted around her mother, who continued to rant, “And I don’t know where she gets such a superiority complex with a less than superior complexion! Green! Really!”

She found her pocket-sized sewing kit next to a half-finished embroidery. Her tiny fingers struggled to pop the lid open then quickly found a needle to give herself a firm poke. “Ow!” A red dot formed on her fingertip.

“Evie, really!” Her mother swooped in to checked the injury. “What has gotten into you, my dear?”

“Mommy—Mother, I am not six! I’m an adult!” She knew her plea to be believed would fail. How could she possibly prove this to her mother, who wouldn’t even listen when she tried explaining she and Ben were not secretly—

— Well, they hadn’t at the time. Then Mal found out, and told her to stay away. ‘And it turns out this whole time, she’d been cheating on Ben with Carlos.’ She’d hardly believed it until she’d walked in on them, doing things that made her blush now.

Grimhilde waved off her daughter’s odd statement while leaving the tower room. “Come along, Evie! Today, we let the entire island know they have a princess among them!”

She looked down at the dried pinprick of blood on her finger. This was real. ‘Did I time travel? Is there even magic that can go this far back in time?’

Her stomach grumbled, and the six-year-old part of her dutifully trotted out the door and down the stairs in happy anticipation of breakfast.

What the potato soup lacked flavor it made up for in heartiness. To Carlos’ surprise, each spoonful had floating bits of diced canned meat. He’d nearly forgotten about this Isle staple, as most meat had spoiled before reaching the Isle. Canned meat and fish were typically the safest non-plant proteins they could eat. All four of the VKs brought over to Auradon nearly lost their minds eating dining hall steak for the first time. He remembered Evie and Mal self-consciously taming their excitement when other students side-eyed them, but he and Jay didn’t care.

With a satisfied stomach and restless momentum, Carlos left out the back door. He waded through wispy weeds and toward the back gate. The walking path took him past the old treehouse, but he didn’t give it more than a glance. His mind was elsewhere.

Emerging onto Mauvais Way, a street lined with two-story brick buildings that all seemed connected, he walked along the curb. Lines of drying laundry zig-zagged overhead. The fabric was so thin that with a little sunlight, Carlos could see through them. That’s why everyone layered on the Isle.

He passed an old woman dozing off in a lawn chair. Down a ways, he passed a little shack in the middle of the road. A frayed cloth pinned to the entrance barely obscured the man sleeping in a broken bathtub.

These were all common sights on the Isle. People would tire of being in their sad little homes, so they’d go outside. But with nothing to do, they’d sleep. As a kid, Carlos hadn’t understood why until now. The adults slept so much, because they were depressed.

Stirrings of life could be heard from those open windows he passed. A woman leaned out of her small, square window and shook the dirt off a rug piece. A man carrying a knapsack with drooping stems ambled past Carlos with a curious glance.

Most of the signage on that street was in French, as this was where the majority of Gaston’s angry mob ended up. The mob had been the majority of able-bodied men in that small provincial town. When they were sentenced to the Isle, their wives and children did not abandon them.

‘And it freed up room for Beast to demolish the old village and turn it into the capital of Auradon.’

Carlos carefully stepped around a child, sitting on the curb and hunched up with their arms around their knees. He kept looking back at the kid, a boy with a knitted-hat he was on the verge of growing out of.

Was he hungry? Was he okay? But Carlos had to keep going, because no one was allowed to openly help people on the Isle. In fact, that kid was probably taught not to trust anyone offering help. On the Isle of the Lost, kids never knew who was just evil or who was a complete, depraved monster.

He turned a corner down one of the many narrow streets spider webbing out from Sorcerer’s Square, the center of life on the Isle. Vendor stalls lined the narrow street, shaded from the limited sunlight. The smell of rotting carrots and mushy potatoes invaded his nose. An old crone seemed to be debating payment with one of the Evil Queen’s vultures, whose claw reached out for the anti-wrinkle cream clutched in her hands.

He passed sellers of nightshade, grit, pond scum, and worms. People milled about, in no rush. Carlos realized his pace was too fast, earning curious looks, so he slowed down. People still looked.

‘Of course they’re staring,’ he reprimanded himself. ‘I’m kind of famous now.’ And for no good reasons.

With a deep breath, his shoulders shakily lowered, relaxing. ‘Just gotta’ watch my wallet, and everything will be fine.’

He didn’t like walking alone on the Isle, especially now that he gained attention wherever he went.

With relief, he emerged into Sorcerer’s Square, looking more dilapidated than he remembered. The makeshift stalls all seemed to have merged together in a maze of dirty hanging cloths, tables, carts, and pallets. People pulled around carts of goods, purchases, or their own small children.

Carlos stayed to the edge, his feet remembering the way around potholes and sewer grates. The aromatic draw of the junk shop hit him before he saw it. Darting past a display of carpets, he wandered through the cramped, dusty shelves of pilfered belongings and to the front counter. There, he found an ex-vizier weighing copper on an old brass scale.

Jafar, rounded out with age and his wife’s cooking, took one look at Carlos and let the copper in his hand clatter on the counter. “So you did return. Where’s Jay?” He looked past Carlos as if his son would pop up.

“In Auradon. Where he has a future.” Because there was nothing to be found on the Isle for them, yet here Carlos was.

“Oh.” And like that, Jafar went back to counting the weight of copper and calculating worth.

Carlos himself had no worth to his best friend’s father, but on the Isle, it all came down to trades. “Jay was voted MVP again for Tourney and R.O.A.R.”

A smile immediately brightened Jafar’s face. “Of course he did! I’ve seen the rest of the team. He makes them look terrible by comparison. If his mother and I had been allowed to attend that match against Camelot, he would never have lost with us in the crowd.”

When it came to bragging about his son, the joy it brought to Jafar’s face made him the closest he’d ever come to handsome.

Carlos leaned sideways against the counter in an attempt to be casual. “He got several letters of recommendation to the Auradon teams.”

Carlos didn’t want to be the one to reveal a citizenship issue had ended Jay’s sports career before graduation. His mother had said to butter up Jafar by talking about Jay. Now, he needed to play his words just right.

“The thing is, he’s putting off his sports career.”

The copper scattered on the counter and onto the broken tile floor. “He’s what?!”

Carlos nodded emphatically. “Yeah, he’s not joining any teams or doing anything at all until Evie wakes up from her death-like sleep.”

Jafar waved his arms. “Can’t someone kiss her? She’s a beautiful girl! Surely someone is madly in love with her!”

Between Mal and this True Love’s Kiss bullshit, Carlos was over romance. “She broke up with her boyfriend. Isn’t there any other way?”

If the situation wasn’t so dire, Jafar being more upset than Grimhilde would’ve been funny. His hands worriedly rubbed his beard and nose as if in deep thought.

Eventually, he shook his head, declaring, “I am a man of magic among the living! An alchemist! A hypnotist! For this, Hades should be consulted. If she’s more dead than alive, he might have the answer.”

Jafar squatted to scoop up the copper he’d dropped. “Good luck even getting an audience with him. Hades has only gotten more reclusive as time goes on. He doesn’t even go out for groceries on his own anymore. Has a little errand girl do it.”

“Who?” Carlos quickly grabbed for a lifeline, but Jafar answered with a shrug.

A shuffling of small feet interrupted their conversation as a trio of children ran up to the counter. Jafar quickly moved the copper out of reach, freeing the counter for the children to start emptying their arms. Electric lamps, oil lamps, and lanterns piled together for Jafar to examine. The three kids’ dirty faces waited expectantly.

Leaning back to yell through a curtain-covered entryway into the kitchen, Jafar called out, “Sadira dear, the children need payment!”

Carlos looked from the children to Jafar. “This is who you’re using to get stock since Jay left? Little kids?”

The older man shrugged. “Kids need something to do to feel useful. Even they need a purpose.”

“It’s ready!” a woman’s voice called back. Seconds later, a woman from whom Jay clearly inherited his good looks (and hand for thievery) emerged carrying a tray.

The tangy smell of sharp cheese made the children salivate. The moment she set the small tray on the counter, their little hands grabbed up the cooled cheese crisps that were nothing more than melted cheddar shavings.

Watching them, Carlos realized from their rags that these were henchman children. ‘These kids would never get chosen for the VK program. Auradon only wants to bring over kids that would make a splash in the papers.’

That’s why Mal, Evie, Jay, and himself had been chosen. ‘What’s a bigger flex of how good and perfect they are than to rehabilitate the daughter of Maleficent?’

Mal did resemble something of a lion in a circus. She was magnificent and powerful yet pathetic.

That did it. If he was going to just stand there thinking of Mal, then he needed to leave. Carlos thanked a disinterested Jafar, who called out to Carlos as he left, “Check if your mother is still having the viewing party!” Seeming to catch on that Carlos didn’t care, he turned to his wife. “Sweetheart, call Hell Hall!”

Carlos exited out into clear afternoon air, working wonders on dispelling Mal from his mind. ‘Focus. The Evil Queen won’t stop going on about the kiss. Jafar didn’t know anything, but Hades—‘

The fluttering of paper on paper caught his attention, slowing his step in time for a voice to call out, “You look like you could use some direction.”

Turning, he saw a makeshift fortune teller’s tent set-up. Really, it was little more than a sheer curtain thrown over a hula-hoop attached to a floor lamp. Tin stars and sickle moons had been glued to the gauzy fabric. The tent was barely big enough to house the tiny table and the small fortune teller inside.

A bright pair of brown eyes watched him. “The cards will reveal the path to all that you’re seeking.”

When she tilted her head, her miniature top hat brushed the curtain. “Tarot reading’s only three coins.” She shuffled her deck like a card shark.

“Pass.” Carlos liked kids, but he didn’t want to waste his money.

When he began turning away, she called out, “Two coins!”

Carlos turned back around walked over, his toe touching the back of the empty stool. “I wasn’t trying to barter.”

She shrugged, sitting back and trying to act casual. “I’m bored. So what’s it gonna be?”

He recognized her, if not from the tarot cards then from the multi-colored skull on her maroon hat. This was Dr. Facilier’s youngest daughter, Celia. He didn’t remember much of what she looked like back when he’d attended Dragon Hall. Small, bullied kids often lived in the myopic world of their own misery and interests. He’d never paid much attention to the primary-aged kids back then.

He realized she must be younger than he’d been when he left the Isle. Seeing her out in the bazaar, trying to do something with herself, inspired Carlos to take a chance.

“One coin.”

Her jaw dropped, scoffing. “I’m already giving you a discount!”

His foot scooted the stool under her table. “Then forget it. You’re more interested in reading me more than I am in being read.” Besides, Carlos doubted the cards would work on the Isle. It was like a fortune cookie; everything could apply if read through a wide lens.

Her foot stuck out as far as it went, pushing the stool back out. “Fine. One coin.”

She smiled, part mischievous glee and part childish excitement that he was playing along. He accepted the deck as she slid it over to him, and he started shuffling, albeit more clumsily than her. As a kid, he’d preferred Jenga and board games over card games. Eventually satisfied that he’d met some unspoken requirement, he plopped the deck back in front of her.

“All right. This first card represents your past.” She rubbed her hands together then flipped the first card so only she could see the results. With a smirk and giggle, she asked, “Soooo what’s her naaaame?”

She laid the card on the table — The Lovers in reverse. “Or his name.”

His arms crossed as he asked, “Are the cards always so literal?”

“Are you always so defensive?” she teased before admitting, “Okay so, it could mean you’ve had a big fallout with someone, or that you’re being indecisive. Whatever the problem is, typically it just means you need to talk to them and be honest. Or, be honest with yourself.”

His foot tapped agitatedly until he stopped it. Celia stared at him, trying to read into his micro-reactions. “Remind you of anything in Auradon?”

Too much actually, not that Carlos planned on sharing that. “Next card.”

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes.

Sliding The Lovers to the side, Celia picked up the next card and had a quick look before laying it beside the first card. “Judgement in reverse. Sounds like things aren’t going so hot for you.”

If that’s all the cards wanted to tell him, then he’d wasted his coin. “And it means—?”

“That you don’t feel good enough for whatever you’re trying to do,” she explained, picking up the card as if seeking further insight. “It’s a call to stop doubting yourself and do something about it.”

Leaning forward onto her forearms, Celia held up the card and asked, “So what are you trying to do? Everyone on the Isle knows you ditched graduation. I heard you even got a big fancy scholarship. So—” she leaned in farther, dropping her voice “—what are you doing back?”

Carlos didn’t want to lie to a kid. “Next card.”

Pouting, she set the present card back in its spot and flipped the future card — Upright Death.

His stomach plummeted. The paling look on his face said it all as Celia quickly explained, “Don’t take it so literally! Everyone sees this card and has a heart attack. Yeesh! After your last card, this is a good sign!”

Pinching a bottom corner, she held the card to her head and closed her eyes, as if listening to the card. “It means you’ll go through a major transformation — end a cycle—” she set the card back down “—then die!”

He jolted in panic, making her wink deviously and declare, “Gotcha’!”

Carlos rolled his eyes as she lost control giggling into her stack of cards. Then he had to smile, because she’d got him. While Celia caught her breath, he looked over the three cards. They were little more than fortune cookies, he reassured himself.

“Word to the wise—” he dropped a coin on the table, where it noisily wobbled “—collect payment first next time.”

Her hand slapped down on the shiny gold and dragged it to the edge, where it disappeared into her velvet coin purse. “Pleasure doing business.” Her elbows noisy plopped onto the table. “Come again!”

“Same.” Carlos stood up, grinning down at her “Brat.”

She playfully stuck her tongue out at him as he left, vaguely remembering where the Fashion Factory’s boutique to be. Carlos figured he’d cut through there and get to unpacking his things.

Carlos zigzagged through the bazaar stalls. He passed between ladders set-up as make-shift poles to hold up terrycloth blankets for shade. A wormy apple vendor dunked and scrubbed her laundry while waiting for buyers. A heady wall of fragrance dowsed him while passing a table of fragrant oils in tiny glass bottles.

‘I guess I should call it for today and start unpacking. How am I going to even get Hades to talk to me, let alone help me?’

Carlos remembered learning about him in his Portraits of Evil class at Dragon Hall. That had been the first lesson after he and Evie became tentative friends with Mal and Jay.

Lord of the Underworld, he took being thrown on the Isle as a great offense to a god like himself. King Beast doomed him to the Isle until the Zeus decided to reincarnate the Olympian gods again in a century or two. Being a capricious lot, that particular extended family liked to start life over again, replay out old romances and feuds in new ways. Or in Zeus’ case, cheat on his wife with new people. But no, as Hades like to remind everyone, he was somehow considered the bad guy.

‘There’s gotta be a way to get through to him. How do you get on good terms with an egotistical recluse?’

Carlos stepped over an upturned rope basket. ‘I’ll figure it out somehow. Maybe I could offer to fix up his motorcycle, or I could make a new leather jacket with spikes on the shoulders?’

He passed through a narrow opening and reached to push aside a faded orange sheet.

‘Hopefully I can figure this out before—’

In a flash of fabric and glint of metal, a wide, wicked smile barred down at him.

“Cap’n’s been lookin’ fer’ you.”

Eyes wide, Carlos had no chance to retreat before Harry Hook seized the front of his jacket and dragged him through the sheet. The larger boy released him, sending Carlos stumbling into an opening encircled by grinning, leering pirates.

He nearly careened into the wall of boys when Gil stopped him with a forceful shove, sending Carlos into the center of the bull ring.

‘Fuck.’ He was dead.

A nearby storefront closed its gate. A few outdoor sellers dumped their ware into suitcase, knapsacks, or simply gathered them into their arms before vacating the area. Everyone knew Carlos was screwed and wanted no part of it.

Breathing heavily, Carlos quick-turned to survey the familiar faces trapping him. He recognized several former classmates turned pirates — Clay Clayton, Rick Ratcliff, the Gaston twins, and Eddie Balthazar — although they all seemed taller and broader than he remembered.

Long aqua braids swaying like waves on the sea, a coolly smirking face came sauntering around Clay. “Last time I saw your face, you were helping Mal stomp all over us before running back to eat cake in your fancy prep school.”

Carlos gulped. The very person he’d hoped to avoid entirely had wasted no time hunting him down.

“Bet you ate lots of it at that party.” Uma circled him, making his space even smaller. “I saw all y’all dressed up, gettin’ fawned over.”

Carlos, getting better at hearing his thoughts over his racing heart, hoped he could talk his way out of this. “You sound jealous.”

Instantaneously, she rounded on him. “You think I’m jealous? I’m mad as hell! That bitch has got everyone fooled and kissin’ her ass when she’d sooner shit on their faces!”

In her eyes, Carlos saw more than just fury. Maybe, Carlos thought, he was getting good at seeing the years of trauma and pain fueling charismatic, angry girls.

“And I finally get my chance to free all of us, you four show up again!” Uma backed off, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “And Mal takes what she wants and leaves all of us to eat Auradon’s trash! And you help her every time like a good little bitch!”

A rowdy chorus of agreement rose up from her pirate crew. Then several loud “hwaks!” preceded them spitting at Carlos. Several loogies splattered on his jacket, making him protectively hunch up. One he swore was by Harry splashed on his cheekbone.

He instinctively grabbed the straight razor from his pocket and threateningly turned toward Harry. The older boy regarded the small, gleaming blade with equal parts shock and amusement. Arms loose and at his side, Harry seemed to gleefully be awaiting what Carlos might do.

‘What am I doing?’ Carlos didn’t want to start a fight he’d never win. He couldn’t take on any of these pirates.

The fresh scar running along Harry’s bicep caught his eyes. ‘I can’t hurt anymore. I can’t — I just can’t.’

His eyes scanned for an escape. Just past Rick Ratcliffe, he saw the black, white, and red geometric mural painted around the entrance to his the Fashion Factory boutique, Crul-D.

‘Stick to what you’re good at and escape.’ Which wasn’t staying and fighting. Nevertheless, the hand holding the straight razor made no move to put it away.

He turned his head to look at Uma, who was the bitter head of this monstrous crew. “Who was that whole speech for?!” he challenged. “Mal can’t hear you from here! And I’m sure as hell not going to tell what you said! She’d be lucky if I did.”

The air changed, even if slightly. Uma narrowed her eyes, but Carlos knew she had to be curious about his return, just like everyone else. He could work with that.

“You think I came back to the Isle to hear you bitch about how Mal keeps beating you at everything? I’m here to get away from Mal and from Auradon!” Besides preferring to keep Evie’s condition on an as-needed basis so the whole Isle didn’t know what he was after, distancing himself from Mal and her new kingdom stood to benefit Carlos.

Uma slowly nodded in dawning understanding. “So y’all had a fallout or something?” she asked, almost conversational now.

Heatedly, Carlos replied, “Let’s just say Mal and I aren’t pretending to be friends anymore.”

Of the labels Carlos might put to them, ‘friends’ wasn’t one of them anymore. They weren’t quite exes, because it had all been a lie. Yet, Carlos didn’t want to call her an enemy. He cared about her too much, deep down.

Eyes narrowed, she regarded him carefully, as if taking the full measure of him. The pirate captain exchanged a look with Harry — who restlessly swung his sword — then with Gil — who shrugged.

“Using that big brain of yours to get some sense now doesn’t cover the stupid shit you pulled in the past,” Uma declared for everyone in hearing distance. “But I can let you work to undo all the damage you did as the smallest, weakest member of my crew.”

Gil nodded, thoughtfully saying to himself, “We could really use a smart twink, actually.”

Uma blinked, distracted, then carried on as if she’d not heard him too. “Joining the Lost Revenge is really too good for you after you trashed my ship, but I’m feeling generous.”

“You mean you know your current crew doesn’t have two brain cells to rub together,” Carlos cuttingly retorted. “And you want someone with insider knowledge of Mal and Auradon. Well forget it. I don’t want to hang out with a bunch of losers. I shower too much to be a pirate anyway.”

The teal-haired girl grinned, showing her canine teeth. “All right. All right. Your other choice is Harry here makes you eat shit.”

Her first mate wasted no time in stalking toward Carlos. That she meant real, literal fecal matter wasn’t a mystery. He stumbled back, but Harry’s large hand seized the front of his jacket. Carlos squeezed his wrists, trying to loosen the grip to no avail.

The surrounding pirates jeered. Panic overshadowed his brave facade. A loud voice inside Carlos yelled for him to open the straight razor. Do what he had to do to survive. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

The cold metal hook pressed painfully into his cheek. “Maybe fer a weddin’ gift, we’ll send a piece of ya’ back to Mal!” A cackle rose up from his buddies. “Don’t you worry. It’ll just be whatever’s between ya’ legs, ‘cause we all know you ain’t usin’ it!”

Harry laughed, loud and open-mouthed so spittle struck Carlos. The pirate crew sounded like hyenas. Carlos couldn’t think. He couldn’t remember what he’d done with the straight razor. Coming back to the Isle had been a mistake. He’d been upset and rash, and now he’d regret it forever—

A pair of sharply manicured hands shoved Gaston Jr. and Gaston the Third aside like saloon doors. The bulky pirates parted with a matching “oof!” A young woman with ebony locs twisting down to her waist marched into the circle.

Her lipstick, red on the bottom and black on top, emphasized her opening threat. “Harry, get that hook away from him before I shove it somewhere only Gil’s willing to go.”

Carlos stared at her, someone he’d been half-hoping, half-nervous to see. If him leaving for Auradon meant he’d abandoned anyone, it hadn’t been his mother. It’d been her.

“Gemma, I don’t know where you get off thinkin’ you can waltz in here and tell anyone what to do,” Uma said, unbothered by the other girl’s interruption to the show. “You don’t run this place.”

Gemma Badun lifted her straight nose into the air, sniffed, and pretended to follow a smell. “Oh look. Shrimpy. Call off your gang of service bottoms before I remind you why I don’t pay your protection racket.”

Before Uma could do more than turn red, Harry released Carlos with a shove and stomped over to Gemma. His big, domineering act worked better when the intended victim wasn’t the same height.

“Show some respect to the cap’n or else I’ll make you eat shit—!”

“I have a new book.”

The new voice sent visible chills through several pirates. Eddie Balthazar saw the pop of rosewood hair near his shoulder and panicked as if he’d found a tarantula on him. He fell back into Clay Clayton, who tumbled to the ground with him, allowing Anya to step into the gathering.

She walked right up to Uma, who eyed her distrustfully but stood her ground. Anya held up a book with a burly-haired centaur embracing a sleek merman on the cover and declared, “It’s in hardback.”

Anastasia Tremaine’s eldest child raised it over her head, hand gripping the corner. “So I can hit you.”

“Try it, and I’ll gut you,” Uma hissed back.

Anya heatedly whispered, “I’ll feed your bones to my cat.”

Gemma, hands on her hips, tapped her long, dagger-like nails on the waist of her patchwork leather trousers. “You’re all dumber than I give you credit. Attacking a De Vil right in front of Cruella’s boutique is up there for you lot.” Her accent matched her father’s. “Anya and I’ll let you go this time. More than you deserve, but I’ve got a graduation party to set up.”

The statuesque girl’s cat eyeliner looked sharper as she side-eyed Uma, adding, “And you’ve got a shift at your mum’s fish n’ chip shop.”

Carlos watched Uma stew over what to do. A few pirates gripped their sword hilts. Harry flexed his biceps, unintimidated and not wrong in thinking he could fight Gemma. Anya stared down Uma with a blank expression. If she took out only one person, it’d be the one in charge, and Uma might’ve known it.

'They’ve put on a good show, but we can’t win if the pirates attack us.’ Back in his right mind, Carlos knew he had to play along, for their sake.

In three strides, he placed himself at Gemma’s side with the straight razor drawn. Looking between the captain and first mate, he loudly said, “Whatever you think you’ll accomplish fighting us today won’t be worth it.”

Uma snorted. “What, got yourself your own gang now?”

When Carlos said, “No,” the two older girls shouted, “Yes!”

Gemma nodded in the direction of the boutique. “And Cariba’s back there waiting to see if she gets to break-in her new bat. Bein’ your cousin, she won’t hurt you, but can’t say the same for the rest of your lot.”

With a frustrated growl, Uma snapped her fingers and jerked her head in the direction of the Low Tide Lane, which ran all the way down to the docks. Her crew loyally obeyed, dragging their feet on the broken cobblestone while throwing dirty looks at the De Vil turf tenants.

With one more look at Carlos, Uma snidely told him, “Better have your big sister walk you everywhere from now on.”

With Harry protectively at her side, she and the rest of her lackeys disappeared out of sight.

Finally, Carlos could breath again. His dropping heart rate came with uncontrollable trembling. The razor flipped shut, but his shaking hand struggled to open his jacket pocket. He wished he’d not been so stupid in telling Jay to stay in Auradon. Being on the Isle placed him in much more immediate danger than Evie was in.

Gemma’s arm wrapped under his shoulder blades, giving him a shake so he’d calm down. “C’mon. Dad and Jasper just got your mattress up. I helped pick out everything.” She gave him a purposeful look. “Including pillows.”

Letting him go, she headed toward the boutique with Anya joining her. The Tremaine girl fished a book out of a small satchel bag hanging from her shoulder and handed it over. Carlos caught up to them and spied the cover of Gemma’s book, depicting a blonde aviatrix kissing a golden crowned woman with long, chestnut hair.

“Thanks for holding my book,” she said, sounding tired.

“I was hoping we’d fight,” Anya said as if discussing mildly promising dinner plans. “That’s the closest I’ve gotten to Uma’s face.”

“And next time, you’ll get even closer,” Gemma said encouragingly before veering into the boutique with Anya and Carlos in tow.

The boutique had nothing on the original that featured his mother’s clothing in Magical London, so Carlos had been told. He imagined the original House of De Vil boasted glass counters so clear that a purse, fascinator, or pair of gloves appeared to float when set atop. The window displays were ever changing works of art. The perfumes seduced money out of pockets, and the designs entranced with the possibilities of how they could transform the wearer.

It could have been more lies from his mother, for all he knew. The only boutique Carlos ever knew were the racks of clothes constructed from tired materials, layered together in tight stitches. The farther back, the nicer the fabrics became. Of course, ‘nicer’ merely meant it was on its second life instead of its sixth. A couple of mannequins with parts painted different shades of red posed on an elevated table behind the counter, where a young woman sporting aqua afro-puffs sat next to the register.

“Sup, Carlos,” Cariba said, checking him out with umber eyes rimmed in yellow liner. Fishnets criss-crossed over the wide swath of leg stretching from black shorts to combat boots.

Carlos remembered her being hired to manage the boutique’s day-to-day business not long before he’d left for Auradon. She wanted better pay and a connection to the Tremaine’s bakery to help support herself and her mother, Ulianna. Word on the street was the former sea witch struggled with alcoholism and depression since being thrown on the Isle.

“Hey. How’s it going?” Carlos noticed her collarbones stuck out less than before he’d left, and her clothes looked newer. Allying herself with the De Vil gang must’ve been working out for her.

“Eh.” She shrugged, hopping down and causing her fringe belt to rustle. “Goin’ to your graduation party later. You did graduate, right? Cause—”

“Yeah, you don’t actually have to attend the ceremony to graduate.” Seeing Anya and Gemma joining Cariba, Carlos recognized ‘girl time’ when he saw it. He announced he’d be upstairs unpacking then followed suite, ascending a back staircase into the upper stories of the Fashion Factory.

After the day he’d endured, Carlos breathed with a sense of relief, something like ‘home sweet home.’

They really broke out the good stuff for this party, Mal thought to herself while downing another glass of pale, shimmering, bubbly gold. The champagne sparkled down her throat and up to her head. She couldn’t get enough of it.

While the majority of her fellow graduates performed a of choreographed dance they’d all learned in middle school, Mal walked the outskirts of the grand ballroom and tried forgetting. She matched her smile to theirs, thanked their congratulatory parents, snagged fancy little prosciutto and brie puff pastries from serving platters, and tried ignoring who was missing.

Pop music bounced off the high ceiling’s fresco depicting cherubs and heavenly hosts. Despite the massive gold chandelier and standing candelabras, blinding box lights lit the grand ballroom so photographers could take photos. There were so many more eyes than were at the Royal Cotillion. Mal decided the smart thing to do would be stick to one type of drink, so no one could tell how much she was having.

Maybe it was another contradiction of her character, but despite loving attention, Mal hated parties. ‘I mean, it’s also a family trait.’

Feeling her mouth had relaxed too much, she forced each corner up into a smile. But when she saw Ben, donning soothing royal blue in a sea of pastels, her expression brightened. His long strides made it easy for him to cross the distance between them. His smile was still the sweetest sight she’d ever seen, but the corners of his eyes strained in worry.

“Hey,” he breathed, trying to sound happy despite how long the day had been. “Want to get some fresh air?”

Mal downed the last gulp of champagne and ditched it on a passing serving platter. Intertwining her fingers with his, she said, “Take me anywhere.”

They exited out of the hot ballroom and into the clear blue evening out on the terrace. A few couples sat on the stone balustrade, but the royal couple didn’t join them. Ben led her down a set of stone steps leading to the courtyard rose garden, softly lit with oil lamps.

To Mal’s delight, he guided them to a stone bench hidden by a trellis covering in thick, climbing vines. They’d barely sat down before her hands grabbed for his lapel and cupped his cheek. Her lips pressed against his, over and over, changing angles and brushing their noses together. Mixed with the alcohol in her system, the effect is intoxicating and where she wants to drown for the rest of the night.

But his citrus cologne invaded her senses, sharpening her thoughts long enough to remind her, ‘Carlos is missing. Evie’s as good as dead. And it’s all my fault.’

Her arms went around Ben’s shoulders, pulling him closer. A hand went up his neck, into his hair, and knocked into that over-sized gold crown, sending it tumbling off his head and into the grass.

Ben sprung back in surprise and immediately recovered the precious crown from the ground. Checking it for dirt or bugs, he gave it a cursory brushing with his hand and returned it to his head.

“I actually didn’t come out here to do that,” Ben explained, shifting so they were no longer pressed together. “I’m not really in the mood considering what happened to Evie.” He looked down at the indentation his heavy crown left in the soft grass. “Everyone expects me to stuff my emotions down and have a good time. Dad said it’s what a good ruler does, but—” Ben’s shoulders drooped miserably “—wouldn’t I be a better ruler if I focused on finding solutions rather than pretending to have fun partying?”

“Well—I—” Mal flushed, embarrassed. “I’m trying to think of solutions too. Sometimes we’re expected to be somewhere and act a certain way. If we show everyone we’re stressed out and upset, that’s going to affect the whole kingdom and our allies. It could even signal to our enemies that now’s the time to attack.” She spoke quickly, without taking a breath. “We have to show strength no matter how we feel, and sometime that means going to stupid parties and smiling for cameras.”

Ben nodded but said no more, making Mal suspect he wasn’t sharing that he disagreed. Paranoid, she added, “Do you think this is easy for me? You wanted me to be open when things are hard, and things are really, really hard right now. I have this—” she gestured at the area between her chest and throat “—feeling that wherever Carlos is, he’s in danger. And Evie — I never wanted this to happen—”

Panic clamped her jaw shut. Mal teetered on the verge of confessing. Ultimately, her feet stayed firmly grounded at the cliff’s edge.

His larger, warmer hand enveloped hers as he softly assured her, “We’ll figure this out together.”

She squeezed back, but her jaw trembled too much to reply. ‘But if we do, you’ll hate me for the rest of my life. Then I’ll really be alone.’

“Evie and I,” he slowly started, thumb rubbing the back of her hand, “found smashed wands in the bottom of the Museum of Cultural History. There’s record of the wands being present but not destroyed. I don’t know what’s going on, but I want to find the Blue Fairy and the Rose Enchantress. I was raised being told everyone agreed to give up magic, but now—”

He looked up and stared into the far distance, across the maze of rose bushes.

“—I want to hear their sides of the story. Then, I want to make amends and ask if they can help Evie.” Ben turned back to her. “Will you help me find them?”

Mal stared at him, her brain trying to comprehend the implications of what he’d said. The girl from the Isle would have been ready to leave the party right await begin their search. But she had a crown on her head now and her own secrets.

And maybe, if Mal were honest with herself, a terrified, selfish part of her hesitated to help Evie.

‘Maybe I could use a memory spell on her.’ She had those photocopies of her old spellbook tucked away just in case.

Mal didn’t know what to do. Every choice seemed to lead to something worse.

“Mal?”

She smiled at him. “Of course I’ll help you.”

Promises had never felt so hollow.

The entire Tremaine family came for the graduation party, along with Jay’s parents and Grimhilde. Gemma largely hung out on the couches, drinking spiked bug juice with her friend group, consisting of Anya, Cariba, and Batshit Brigit, Mad Madame Mim’s youngest daughter. Lady Tremaine and Grimhilde gossiped over glasses of sherry, after they’d made it loudly clear they’d only deign to drink due to the special occasion.

The old stand TV played footage from graduation. Jafar insisted everyone shut-up as he cranked up the volume so he could watch Jay graduate. Not a single Auradon student was safe from Cruella’s barbs about their attire, but Dizzy stared at each of the graduates with open fascination. Her father, meanwhile, manned the food table and dished out slim slices of his a small but wonderfully moist yellow cake with thin royal icing.

Carrying an appetizer plate stacked with bao buns, Carlos stood at the back of the crowd. A weak smile pulled at his face when the camera showed a grinning Jay walk up and take his diploma.

Snow White hosted the event, and she did a twirl of excitement when the next person took to the stage. In heels so high and pointed, Mal breezed across the stage with the canary yellow graduation gown fluttering around her pretty ankles.

Carlos’ entire mood sank. He left the parlor, went to the kitchen, and exited into the backyard so he could no longer hear the TV. Instead, another sound caught his ear. He followed it over to a set of trash cans outside the fence. A couple metal tins laid their side, and he could’ve sworn tiny claws scratched along their insides.

The annoyed, cat-like grumbling sounded so familiar to him.

“Beelzy?” he called out.

The ruckus went silent before a little, messy-haired silhouette stuck its head out of a trash can. When Carlos noticed a slight curl to the fur, he knew that was his girl. Setting his plate on an old wooden garden bench, he tore a bao bun in half to expose the meat inside. Carlos also spied a small towel that Artie must have used while gardening and left out. He snatched that and carefully, quietly made his way toward the edge of the yard.

When he was close enough, Carlos dropped into a low stalking position and tossed the bao bun over the fence to get her attention.

Beelzy’s little triangle ears twitched at the imperceptible sound of doughy bun hitting pavement. Her little nose sniffed, sniffed, and took her full out of the trash can. While she decided whether or not the meat was safe, Carlos silently approached the fence and put his hands on the topmost bar, near the spear-like posts.

During their time on the Isle, after they’d become friends, Jay showed him how to scale any fence, even tricky ones like this. Good thing Jay also convinced Carlos to join him on morning work-outs, because this would take significant upper body strength if he wanted to get the jump on her.

When the little black cat started tentatively eating the bao bun meat, Carlos made his move.

He heaved himself up, clear over, and dropped down to the other side. A half-second before Beelzy could flee, the towel enveloped her. Carlos successfully scooped her up into his arms like a pissy burrito.

“Beelzy! Baby!”

The black cat hissed at him like a demon.

“It’s okay, Beelzy,” he assured her in a doting voice. “I’m back, and I’m gonna’ take way better care of you from now on.”

None of his reassurances settled her down between then and when he returned to the party, where few liked his new guest, least of all his mother.

“Carlos! What have I told you about bringing that thing inside!” Cruella bellowed.

As an adult, Carlos found himself less bothered by her disdain. “It’s my baby Beelzy.” He stroked her back through the towel, and she growled from her terrycloth prison.

“Oh it’s hideous.” Grimhilde sniffed disapprovingly.

Lady Tremaine fixed her with a narrow look. “That’s one of my precious Lucifer’s kittens! My poor little Lucifer, gone too soon.”

Carlos wouldn’t call twenty-five too soon in cat years, but he sympathized that losing any pet always came too soon. “I got her at Evie’s sixth birthday party. It was your idea to name her after a prince of hell.”

“I recall no such thing.” Cruella crossed her arms, glaring down at the bundle. “Get it out! It smells rancid!”

She wasn’t wrong. Dizzy jumped up and grabbed the hem of his jacket to get his attention. “Bring her to Curl Up and Dye! We have a pet bath.” She wrinkled her nose. “And this green stuff that’ll either make her go crazy or completely chill her out. Let’s hope for the latter.”

“Thanks, Dizz.” Carlos held his bundle of fur and fury close to his chest. As a little boy, he’d not been the best pet owner, but he’d tried. He loved her so much, ever since that terrible, scary day. He’d been on the verge of turning five when Evie had her sixth birthday party.

All he could remember was Beelzy’s fuzzy kitten fur and how she’d latched onto him when the sky turned black from Maleficent's outstretched cloak.

The Isle residents transformed the bazaar and ramshackle storefronts into an icon of gothic grandeur, even if they had to get creative. Wooden lanterns were painted black to mimic wrought iron. A long table wrapped in frayed and stained blue silk supported a small mountain of wrapped gifts from almost every villain on the Isle — except one. That’s the one Evie’s couldn’t stop thinking about.

The villains performed one after another in a pageantry of wicked talent on a newly constructed stage. Captain Hook stuck his head in Tick-Tock’s open jaws. Gaston juggled LeFou and two armchairs. Dr. Facilier performed impossible card tricks, and so on it went.

The six-year-old part of her happily kicked her feet from the high-backed throne her mother had made for her. Shere Kahn nearly purred at her feet. Half of her felt like a real princess, but the adult mind within knew better.

And perfectly to how she remembered it, the performances paused while the other little children received their baddie bags, full of treats and their own evil little animal sidekicks.

Evie’s heart skipped a beat. There they were, Carlos and Jay. Oh, but they were so cute that her heart could’ve broken from just looking at them. Jay wore a mischievous little smile and squinted at the party around him. Carlos, so freckled and shy, had to be pushed out from behind his mother’s coat. Evie could have picked him up and hugged him so tightly had they not both been small children.

‘It was such a wonderful day—’

Blood rushed. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

‘—but this is the day that—’

Evie looked up, and she saw her, Mal, crouching on the Bargain Castle’s balcony and pouting miserably at them. A chorus of hyena pup laughter and kitten meowing accompanied the opening of the baddie bags. Looking back at her friends, she saw Jay shout, “Woah!” at the sight of a small, yellow-eyed eel swimming in a plastic bag. Carlos withdrew a dustball of a kitten from his baddie bag and hugged her like he’d never seen anything more precious.

Hair whipping her face, Evie looked up again at the balcony, but now Maleficent stood there. Mal appeared to be talking to her and pointing at the party.

She gulped and looked around until she saw the Gaston twins approaching her, no doubt to perform their feats of strength for her amusement. ‘That’s right. It’s exactly as a I remember.’

Which meant in the next few minutes, Maleficent would be screaming, terrifying the gathered denizens. The cruel fairy would rage and set her guards on them all.

‘No no no!’ Evie pushed off the throne, falling the short distance to the ground. The normally vicious tiger gave her a strange look when she tumbled over his big, furry body.

Maleficent’s words that day haunted in her nightmares, but this was no dream. The cool air of the Isle, the stench from Hook’s pirate crew, the taste of her rotten apple birthday cupcakes — it had all been too visceral.

“Evie! What are you doing?” her mother imperiously demanded, ignorant to Maleficent angrily tossing her cape overhead as she learned what terrible slight had befallen her daughter.

Evie fled under the gift table then out from the other side.

“This celebration is over!” An impossibly powerful, screeching voice enveloped the isle.

Her hands clamped over her ears as she ran down the street, toward Brimstone Court. Her rational thoughts said this couldn’t be real, that something wrong was going on, but the tears falling down her cheeks begged not to be banished again.

“And you! Evil Queen and her daughter!” The voice full of teeth chased her as if she’d gone nowhere at all.

Her hands pressed tighter as she tripped, falling and scraping her knees bloody on the pavement. Evie cried out, but no one helped her.

“You are dead to the entire island! You do not exist!”

Evie silently screamed. She couldn’t remember what was supposed to happen next, and she didn’t find out. Eyes open, she watched the Isle of the Lost melt into watercolor then ooze off the canvas of reality.

Again, Evie was falling.

Chapter Text

An invitation emblazoned with a beastly wax seal interrupted Mal’s first morning of quiet time since moving into her new, permanent home three weeks ago.

The messenger, Arlette, stepped inside the room only as much as necessary. The slightly older girl had been nothing but polite since being assigned as Mal’s secretary, but the former mean girl of the Isle knew when someone didn’t like her. That’s why she didn’t look up from her painter’s palette when Arlette spoke.

“A letter from King Beast, mademoiselle,” she announced neutrally.

Turning her head, she rolled her eyes and hoped her disgust was missed. “What does it say? My hands are busy.” Her pointed brush dipped in purple and worked on the finer details of a fountain.

The parchment paper scraped against itself as she unfolded the message. “He is requesting your presence for breakfast.”

Mal dipped a new brush into red acrylic and made quick, tiny strokes for tree leaves pointing upward. “I haven’t gotten to paint since moving in. Tell him I’m busy.”

Hands holding her elbows behind her back, Arlette evenly responded, “It would be rude to decline an invitation from the king’s father.” Her head shook in warning. “I recommend you accept the offer.”

Green eyes rolled. Mal hated the uptight professionalism that permeated everyone in the castle. The only person she could have a normal conversation with anymore was Ben. With everyone else, she had to pay attention to wording, rank, protocol, and all the insipid little intricacies of life at court.

At a recent luncheon, when Arlette whispered to Mal who she needed to curtsy to and in what order, the supposedly reformed VK nearly snapped (her neck, ideally). Arlette must have read her expression, because she’d quietly hissed, ‘I am trying to help you.’

“Then tell him you tried talking to me, but I was in a meeting,” Mal told her, never looking away from her canvas or the reference photo clipped to the side.

Surrounded by servants, nobles, and Ben’s family, Mal found herself friendless since Carlos left. Not even Jay spoke with her despite working as a guard at the castle, so he could stay close to Evie.

Arlette bristled. “That would be lying to a member of the royal family.”

‘Yes. And?’ Mal wanted to say. Being bad, being good, both choices resulted with her feeling chained down. ’Carlos’ butler covered for him. Why can’t you? You’re supposed to serve me.’

She released an audible, slow breath through her nose. “Did Ben’s dad even say what he wanted?”

“No, mademoiselle.” Back to the flat, neutral tone.