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Soman Chainani

Soman Chainani Books

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One True King

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“What did you think of Beatrix the first time you saw her?" Agatha stared at the candy plum in her teacher's hand. "Agatha?" "I don't know. She was beautiful, " Agatha groused, remembering their fart-filled introduction. "And now?" "She's revolting." "Has she gotten less pretty?" "No, but-" "So is she beautiful or not?" "Yes, at first sight-" "So beauty only lasts a glance?" "Not if you're a good person-" "So it's being good that matters? I thought you said it was looks. " Agatha opened her mouth. Nothing came out. "Beauty can only fight truth for so long, Agatha. You and Beatrix share more in common than you think.”

“Either you’re lying again or you’re as stupid as you look. You ditch me first year for him when you were a girl. You ditch me second year for him when you were a boy. You lie and cheat and steal for him while he treats you like crap, and I help you and care for you and worship you like a queen while you treat me like crap! What does that guy have that I don’t? What makes him so lovable and me so unworthy? Know how many times I’ve asked myself that question, Sophie? How many times I’ve studied him like a book or sat in the dark picturing every last shred of him, trying to understand why he’s more of a person than me? Or why the moment he’s gone, you take a ring from the School Master—or Raphael or Michelangelo or Donatello or whatever you want to call him to make yourself feel better—just because he looks like you want him to look and says what you want to hear? When you could have had someone who’s honest and kind and real?”

“You aren’t jealous that Agatha gets a boy and a crown and a kingdom and everything else?” Hort pressed in disbelief. “You aren’t jealous that Agatha’s a queen?” He saw her stop at the gates, faced away as students streamed past. “A tiny bit, of course,” she said softly. “But then I remember . .  .” Sophie looked back, smiling bright as a diamond. “I’m me.”

“Sophie bristled. “About to die with your beloved prince and still thinking about me. My story will go on without you, Agatha. I don’t need you anymore or your pity, like one of your decrepit cats. I’m no longer your Good Deed.” “But I’m still yours,” said Agatha. “Because without your love, I’d never have become who I really am. So even if I die, I’ll always be your Good Deed, Sophie. And no Evil in the world will ever erase that.”

“Hold on to me!” Tedros yelled, hacking briars with his training sword.Dazed, Agatha clung to his chest as he withstood thorn lashes with moans of pain. Soon he had the upper hand and pulled Agatha from the Woods towards the spiked gates, which glowed in recognition and pulled apart, cleaving a narrow path for the two Evers. As the gates speared shut behind them,Agatha looked up at limping Tedros, crisscrossed with bloody scratches, blue shirt shredded away. “Had a feeling Sophie was getting in through the Woods,” he panted, hauling her up into slashed arms before she could protest. “So Professor Dovey gave me permission to take some fairies and stakeout the outer gates. Should have known you’d be here trying to catch her yourself.” Agatha gaped at him dumbly. “Stupid idea for a princess to take on witches alone,” Tedros said, dripping sweat on her pink dress. “Where is she?” Agatha croaked. “Is she safe?” “Not a good idea for princesses to worry about witches either,” Tedros said, hands gripping her waist. Her stomach exploded with butterflies. “Put me down,” she sputtered— “More bad ideas from the princess.” “Put me down!”Tedros obeyed and Agatha pulled away. “I’m not a princess!” she snapped, fixing her collar. “If you say so,” the prince said, eyes drifting downward.Agatha followed them to her gashed legs, waterfalls of brilliant blood. She saw blood blurring— Tedros smiled. “One . . . two . . . three . . .”She fainted in his arms. “Definitely a princess,” he said.”