Sleeping Beauty, the One Who Took the Really Long Nap Read Online Free PDF

never bit me. The falconer said I was his favorite visitor. I happened to know I was also the falconer’s only visitor, but I appreciated him trying to make me feel good.
    On the last day of the month, with the last lunch a few hours behind us, Father found me playing with my toy soldiers in the library. He sat down next to me on the floor, something I can’t ever remember him doing, and said, “Congratulations, my boy! You don’t have a drop of ogre blood in you!”
    I stared at him. “What do you mean?”
    Then he told me about the test, and how I had passed by apparently not attacking any of the guests.
    â€œBut why did you think I might have gotten some of Mother’s ogre blood? Have I done something terrible?” My heart began to race at the thought of it. Perhaps I did horrible things and didn’t remember them! Why had I never considered that I might have inherited her ogre ways?
    â€œOh, no, nothing like that,” Father assured me. “Actually, it was the mutton.”
    â€œThe mutton? What mutton?”
    â€œAll the mutton you eat at every meal. We thought perhaps the fact that you were drawn to such a meat-filled meal indicated you had a thirst for … for … other meaty things.”
    I shuddered at the thought. “To be honest, I am getting very tired of mutton. I was going to ask the cook to make me something different, like quail eggs.”
    â€œExcellent idea,” Father said. “I’ll alert him myself.”
    I thought about all those special lunches. I couldn’t believe all the trouble they went to. “Did you ever consider just bringing me something of beauty? Flowers? A nice painting or two? If I liked it, that would have proved I wasn’t an ogre.”
    â€œHmm,” Father said. “Hadn’t thought of that. Sure would have saved me from a lot of boring meals.”
    â€œYou thought they were boring, too?” I asked.
    He smiled and tussled my hair. “Of course. I don’t knowhow your mother does it, all those luncheon meetings with the same groups of women.” He shuddered. “It would drive me mad.”
    I had a question I’d wanted to ask him for years. Considering this was the longest conversation the two of us had probably ever had, I figured it was the right time to ask it.
    â€œFather?” I began.
    â€œYes?”
    â€œDo you ever talk to Mother about, you know, what it’s like for her? The whole part-ogre thing?”
    Father shook his head. “When she first told me, I asked some questions, but she never wanted to talk about it. She’s ashamed. I told her that no one can help what’s in their blood. It is not their choice.”
    â€œThat’s how I feel, too!” I said eagerly. “I don’t blame her. I just wish she didn’t shut me out so much.”
    Father nodded. “Me, too, son, but that’s just the way she is. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.” He reddened a bit as he said the last part. We were not a family that tossed the love word around in casual conversation.
    I wasn’t so sure of Mother’s love, but I said, “I know.”
    Father uncrossed his legs creakily and stood up. Before he left the room he said, “A new page is transferring to ourcastle tomorrow. He’s about your age. How about he becomes your personal attendant? You could use a close friend around here.”
    I nodded. A friend wasn’t the same as a parent, but I’d take it. “Father?” I called out, surprising even myself. He turned around and stuck his head back in the room.
    â€œFather, how come I don’t have a name?”
    He didn’t answer for a moment, then said, “When you were born, we wanted to make sure things were going to, shall we say, work out. Everyone simply referred to you as the Prince, and eventually that became your name.”
    â€œThat’s what I thought,” I replied.