“No, but you’re clever for a girl,” said Lord Ortolan. “You’ll learn quickly.”

One other thing Aurora hadn’t grown up with in the woods: men. She hadn’t gotten used to being dismissed by them, and she hadn’t had to figure out what to do in response.

Oblivious to Aurora’s vexation, Lord Ortolan went on. “Things are different for you, of course, being a young lady. The dangers are greater. That is why my advice is invaluable. For example, you may have noticed that Prince Phillip has been dangling after you. I believe he is here to win your land for Ulstead through marriage. Be wary of him.”

“Marriage?” Aurora echoed, startled out of her growing anger. “You think Phillip wants to marry me? You don’t understand—”

“There are some very eligible young men among your own people,” Lord Ortolan said. “And once you wed, you will no longer have the burden of ruling. When your father was king, Queen Leila had no matters of state to concern herself with. There are a few nobles that I could recommend….”

For a moment, Aurora understood the temptation Maleficent faced, with all the magic she possessed. If Aurora could have turned Lord Ortolan into a cat, she couldn’t swear that she wouldn’t have.

“Let me make this clear. I am the queen of Perceforest and the Moors, and I do not consider ruling them a burden.” She squeezed her legs more tightly against Nettle’s sides. The horse sped up, leaving Lord Ortolan and his annoying advice behind.

Chapter 6

Maleficent paced back and forth across the Moors, the hem of her long black gown sweeping over mossy rocks and loam. The charcoal feathers of her wings fluttered in the wind.

Diaval, in his raven form, pecked at beetles that scuttled along at her feet, their green wings making them appear like scattered jewels.

“She’s too sweet-natured,” Maleficent said.

There was no reply from the raven.

“Are you listening?” she asked Diaval, scowling. With a flick of her hand, he became human, crouched on the ground, a beetle still in his mouth.

He got up with a sigh, crunching the bug. His hair was as black as his wings had been, and there was something inhuman in his eyes. It comforted her.

“Always, mistress,” he said, wiping a stray leg from his lower lip. “Too sweet-natured, Aurora. Terrible personality flaw, to be sure.”

That only deepened her scowl.

“She was raised by pixies,” Maleficent went on. “In the woods. She will fall prey to deception.”

“Yes, mistress. Very probably,” agreed Diaval.

“Tell me more of what you observed,” Maleficent commanded, annoyed by his unwillingness to spar with her.