Exclusive Reveal – “The Queen’s Council: A Sword in Slumber” Cover Art and Excerpt

This fall, Disney Publishing will release its latest addition the Queen’s Council series: A Sword in Slumber. Ahead of that, Laughing Place is excited to exclusively reveal the novel’s cover along with a preview excerpt.

What’s happening:

  • The Queen’s Council: A Sword in Slumber is the next entry into the popular YA fantasy series that follows Disney Princesses as they grow up and learn to rule.
  • This particular novel will share the story of Brian Rose — AKA Aurora — as she learns not only to rule as queen but as emperor.
  • In the book, Briar Rose lives in the small Austrian town of Hausach, where she sings, dances, and runs wild through the woods with her best friend Frieda. However, with her curse broken and Maleficent slain, Briar must leave her happy enclave to take her rightful place as Aurora, princess of Austria and betrothed of Prince Phillip of Lorraine.
  • Plenty of surprises are in store in this thrilling reimagining of Princess Aurora’s story that will place her against a real historical backdrop — with a Disney twist.
  • While the book won’t hit store shelves until September, you can check out the cover art above.
  • Additionally, Disney Publishing has shared an exclusive excerpt:

PROLOGUE

Three things filled the dawn-drenched glade: the plucked strings of a lute, the fragrant sweetness of picked wildflowers, and the force of the girl’s personality.

From where Maleficent perched within the gnarled, shadowed branches of a spruce tree, she had a view of the performance. In truth, other than a few wayward forest creatures, she knew she was the only viewer.

The twelve-year-old girl bounded around the clearing, bare toes tearing at spring-soft grass, her flower crown cockeyed on hair of sunshine gold as she danced and sang.

“O good Sir Knight, O good Sir Knight,

A sword made wild and free;

Thy valor leads from tree to Rhine,

By dream you walk with me.”

A boy who played the lute came in with a rolling repetition of “Way, way, way lay lie; way, way, way lay low.” 

Another girl, this one with dark hair and a dirt-smeared face, popped up from where she had been sitting on a log. In one hand, she brandished a stick fashioned to look like a sword.

“ATTACK!” she shouted and dove at the first girl, whose song faltered on a giggling shriek.

Briar Rose, the golden-haired one called herself. She continually drew Maleficent’s attention, making her helplessly flinch, like at the first light of dawn.

Which was appropriate. Given her true name. A name she did not know.

Aurora.

“Frieda!” Aurora ducked her friend’s attempt at play-fighting as the boy continued with his lute. “We’re meant to be rehearsing.”

“And it was you who said we should pretend this rehearsal was at a grand ball,” Frieda countered. “And it just so happens that this grand ball is up at the castle here, and the Bavarians are attacking!”

She let loose a battle cry and charged again.

Aurora feinted left before hurling herself at Frieda. Instead of fighting, she hooked her arm with Frieda’s and spun them in a circle while she caught the song back up.

“Fortune favored, adventure blessed,” Aurora sang. “Refrains of mighty deeds—”

Maleficent’s finger tapped on her thigh. In time with the music.

One-two-three.

Counting. Counting.

One-two-three.

Frieda stumbled, dropped her sword. Aurora spun them faster and added jerking swivels of her hips until Frieda laughed at her own efforts to keep her footing.

“Such gallant turns are sung of you.” Aurora’s voice was perfectly pitched and lovely. “Though seldom all they seem.”

The boy on the lute joined again: “Way, way, way lay lie; way, way, way lay low.”

He continued to play as he spoke. “If the castle was attacked, are we to imagine that the two of you are now singing while in the middle of a bloodbath?”

That made Frieda snort laughter.

Aurora stopped her chaotic spinning to give a look of mock affront to the boy. “How outlandish, Benedikt. Certainly not—the moment the attacking army heard our song, they dropped their weapons and joined the dance.”

“Ah.” Frieda disentangled herself from Aurora and swiped her fake sword from the ground. “So our music will bring peace to the empire, is that right?”

Aurora managed another look of mock affront, though her eyes sparkled. “How could it not?”

“Next time you’re cross with me, I just need to sing to earn your forgiveness, then?”

Aurora’s lips pursed, her eyes narrowing in a way that said she saw what Frieda was doing. “If I say yes, will you actually sing, and stop trying to stab me?”

“Agreed.” Frieda stuck her fake sword through the belt around her dress. “And let me use this blanket forgiveness from you to admit that you didn’t lose that shawl your aunt made for you. I dropped cherries on it, and it got a stain, so I hid it under the armoire in your cottage.”

Aurora’s teasing look plummeted. But not in anger—in confusion. “What shawl?”

Frieda’s shoulders were level as though she was prepared to stand her ground in defense, but at Aurora’s immediate bewilderment, she relaxed. “Oh. The one that started wide on the end and went narrow for some reason? It was a rather sickly color—I think your aunt tried to dye the yarn herself.”

A pause.

Then Aurora burst into laughter, and the last of what barely restrained tension Frieda had vanished.

You’re the reason it went missing?” Aurora said through her laughter. “Do you have any idea how relieved I was that it disappeared? Tante Fauna did try her best when she made it, but good lord, it was hideous.”

Frieda cracked a smile. “You’re not cross with me, then?”

Behind them, Benedikt laughed. “She’s been stressing about it for months, Bri. Months.”

Frieda flushed bright crimson. “Traitor,” she shot at Benedikt.

Aurora collected herself, straightening her flower crown. “It’s under the armoire, you say?”

“Mm.”

“Excellent. I can reuse the yarn and turn it into something that can actually be worn without hurting Tante’s feelings. She dismissed any hope of me ever finding it after, and I quote, a vile sorceress must have snatched your birthday present.”

From her hiding place, Maleficent’s heart beat hard suddenly, a single throbbing jolt.

“Though you should dye it a nicer color,” Frieda said. “I may have actually done you a favor with the cherry stain.”

Benedikt chuckled, but never broke off playing.

Aurora cupped her hand around her ear. “You have been forgiven, and yet I hear no singing.”

Frieda rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t have been angry with me at all!”

“That was not our deal. There shall be peace in the realm, but only if you sing.”

“You’re thinking too simply, Briar. Peace should be harder to come by than that.”

Aurora pouted, but stiffness had taken over her posture, excitement tumbling up against nervousness. “Please. Games aside, we finally get to sing at the tavern tonight. I just want us to do well.”

Frieda sighed and nodded. “We will.”

Aurora popped her eyebrows at Frieda in silent prodding, who sighed again and finally began to sing as Benedikt hit a low note. She belted words that must have been the wrong verse, as Aurora snorted and picked up the right words:

“O good Sir Knight, O good Sir Knight

In dark your eyes do gleam—”

Frieda joined her, her softer voice pushing on Aurora’s to uplift it. Soon, the girls twirled around each other, Frieda following Aurora’s lead.

It truly was an active choice not to get sucked into Aurora’s energy—she emitted a fascinating fervor, helplessly mesmerizing. This was a girl who had found her place, who loved and shared that love and looked out at her future with intoxicating wonder.

Was that a flicker of guilt in Maleficent’s chest?

Hardly.

What would unfold was necessary. Her hand had been forced. Everything was set, the pieces arranged on the board, the game underway.

All she needed to do now was wait. In a few years, destiny would crystallize.

Or it would shatter.

She smiled, manic. One-two-three, tapping her thigh.

Always three. One-two-three. 

It haunted her. Stalked her.

“Allow us to walk how we once did,” Aurora and Frieda sang. “Upon, upon a dream.”

“Way, way, way lay lie,” added Benedikt. “Way, way, way lay low.”

He finished with a flourish, hitting the strings in an overembellished arch of his arm. He used that flair to swing out, snatch Frieda as she danced past, and spin her into a one-armed dip. She gave a bright shock of laughter, flushed and happy.

Maleficent’s eyes, as always, returned to Aurora, who watched her friends with a grin, her dancing slowed to gentle sways of her skirts.

She turned away while Frieda and Benedikt spoke softly.

Did Aurora’s eyes meet Maleficent’s, where she was hidden in the darkness?

No. Surely not. Dozens of times, Maleficent had come to check on the progress of her plan. Dozens of times, no one had noticed, no one had suspected.

Aurora stared at the tree a moment.

Then turned away, humming the song to herself, effervescent with happiness, with life, with purpose.

Purpose she did not yet fully understand.

Maleficent leaned back. Drumming her fingers on her thigh again. One-two-three.

It would be her. She knew it would be. She had known all along.

Briar Rose—Aurora—would be empress.

For that, she needed Maleficent’s help. Would she be grateful? Of course not. But gratitude had nothing to do with it.

One-two-three.

One-two-three.

One-two—

The Queen’s Council: A Sword in Slumber is now available for preorder and is set to be released on September 24th.

Kyle Burbank
Kyle is a writer living in Springfield, MO. His deep love of Disney and other pop culture finds its way into several aspects of his life and work. In addition to his position at LP, he's also the head writer for Fioney.com as well as his own personal finance site Moneyat30.com.