A Wedding for Wiglaf? Read Online Free PDF Page B

his ring had signaled danger! For he wore a swamp-green velvet tunic. His skinny legs, in matching tights, looked like toothpicks. His shoes had long, curled-up toes!
    Mordred set a swamp-green mushroom-shaped hat on top of Wiglaf’s ringlets. “There!” he said. “The hat gives you a lordly look.”
    “Ery-vay oble-nay!” Daisy exclaimed.
    Wiglaf didn’t think “noble” was quite the right word. The right word was “ninny.” He looked like some half-witted elf!
    Wiglaf stared at himself. And then he smiled. Surely Princess Belcheena would never marry anyone who looked this foolish!
    “Come!” Mordred said. “It is time for you to go to the castle yard to greet your bride!”
    Wiglaf’s shoes flapped as he followed Mordred outside.
    Every DSA student stood in the castle yard, waiting to see the East Armpittsian princess.
    Wiglaf heard giggles as he passed by.
    “Look at mushroom head!” called a boy.
    “Hey, string bean legs!” called another.
    But Wiglaf walked with his head held high. So what if they laughed? If the silly outfit saved him from marrying Belcheena, he would gladly wear it for the rest of his life.
    Wiglaf spotted Angus and Erica in the crowd. But he could only wave to them and walk on.
    Suddenly trumpets sounded. And Yorick cried, “Her Royal Highness, Princess Belcheena!”
    Then through the castle gates marched a juggler juggling oranges. He was followed by two jesters turning cartwheels. Three minstrels strolled in next, strumming their lutes and singing. Four ladies-in-waiting were followed by five servants. The last one held the leash of a fierce-looking wild boar with golden tips on his tusks.
    Wiglaf had never seen such a glorious parade. If only he did not know who was at the end of it.
    Now a team of six horses pulled a golden carriage through the gate. And waving from the window was none other than Princess Belcheena.
    “Welcome to Dragon Slayers’ Academy!” Mordred boomed. He nodded to the DSA band. The boys struck up a squeaky tune.
    Wiglaf watched with growing dread as the servants opened the carriage door. The ladies-in-waiting helped Princess Belcheena out.
    Belcheena was a large princess. Much larger than Wiglaf had expected. A pointed hat sat on her head. A long lacy scarf trailed down from its tip. Her braided yellow hair hung down nearly to her knees.
    “Welcome, Princess!” Mordred said. “As headmaster of this fine academy, I welcome—”
    “Stop!” Princess Belcheena cried.
    Mordred stopped midspeech.
    “Well, where is he?” the princess said loudly. “Where is this Wiglaf of Pinwick?”
    “Right here, your loadedness!” Mordred said. “I mean, your loveliness! Go on, boy!” He gave Wiglaf a push. “Do as I taught you.”
    Wiglaf lurched forward.
    “Look, Gretta,” Belcheena said to the lady-in-waiting at her side. “His hair is not really red at all. I would call it orange.”
    Yes! Wiglaf thought. Belcheena wanted a truly redheaded husband. And he did not fill the bill!
    “It is indeed orange,” Wiglaf agreed.
    To his surprise, the princess smiled. “My long-lost love had red-orange hair,” she said. She plucked up a locket she wore on a chain around her neck. She opened it and sighed. “This is all I have left of him. A curl of his carroty hair!”
    Wiglaf’s face fell. This was not working out at all. She liked his stupid hair! But he wasn’t giving up yet.
    “Go on, Wiglaf. Compliment her,” Mordred whispered.
    Wiglaf stepped toward the princess.
    “Beautiful Belcheena,” he said. “You smell as sweet as the flower I wear on my tunic!”
    Belcheena leaned forward to smell the flower. Wiglaf pushed a little bulb in his pocket. Spuuuurt! The flower squirted Belcheena’s face.
    “Aaack!” cried the surprised princess.
    “My lady!” screamed Gretta. She began patting Belcheena’s cheeks dry with her handkerchief.

    Before the princess could recover, Wiglaf struck again. “Princess Belcheena,” he said. “Let me kiss your