Royal Wedding Disaster

by Meg Cabot

  Sadly, this is true.

  It was right then that IT happened. The thing that gave Luisa a COMPLETE ROYAL WEDDING BREAKDOWN. There’s no other way to describe it.

  “Hi, Olivia,” Prince Khalil walked over to say. “I don’t think I’ve had a chance to meet your friend yet.”

  Nishi’s eyes grew about five sizes larger than usual. Before I could say anything, she scrambled to her feet and curtsied. “H-h-hello, Your Royal Highness,” she said to Prince Khalil. “I’m Nishi Desai. I’m Olivia’s friend from New Jersey.”

  “Hi, Nishi from New Jersey,” Prince Khalil said with a grin. He didn’t seem to notice that Luisa’s face had turned bright red with rage. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. So, Princess Olivia,” he said, turning back to me, “I wanted to tell you, we’ll try to have all of the cages out by tonight. But we haven’t caught all of your iguanas. There are always a few left over that are too smart for the live traps. Plus there will be nests with eggs in them. We’ll have to tackle those next week.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Sure. Okay. Thanks.”

  “Great!” He smiled at me, and I couldn’t help noticing again how nice his eyes looked when he smiled. What is wrong with me? “Well, see you down the aisle.”

  That was a little joke, because we kept having to walk down the aisle over and over again for rehearsal. Though not together, of course.

  “Ha,” I said. “See you down the aisle.”

  As soon as he went back into the throne room, Nishi squealed and squeezed my arm and jumped up and down a few times.

  “Oh my gosh!” she gushed. “A real prince! I finally met a real prince! I mean, besides your dad. And he’s soooo cute!”

  But I hardly noticed, because Luisa was giving me a death stare. Seriously. She looked like she was going to kill me.

  “What,” Luisa demanded, “was that all about?”

  I should have said, “None of your business, Luisa,” because I have a perfect right to talk to anyone I want to without her permission.

  But since I’m a princess and have compassion for others, and I know how big a crush she has on him, I said, “Luisa, Khalil is a member of the Genovian Herpetology Rescue Society, and they’ve been helping to remove unwanted iguanas from the palace gardens before everyone gets here for the wedding. So relax. It’s not as if he likes me or anything.”

  But I guess this was the wrong thing to say, because instead of taking my advice and relaxing, Luisa got even more mad. Her nostrils pinched together and she said, “You? Why would someone like him ever like someone like you? Trust me, that thought never even entered my mind!”

  That hurt my feelings a little bit … and reminded me of the mean drawing she’d made and left on my desk. Maybe that hadn’t really been a joke meant to “help” me after all. Maybe that had been how my cousin Luisa really sees me.

  “What do you mean, someone like me?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips. “What’s wrong with me?”

  “What isn’t wrong with you?” Luisa shot back. “You’re the worst excuse for a princess I ever saw. You wear glasses, your hair is a curly mess, you can’t speak proper Italian … and you certainly can’t dance. You looked completely absurd at the performance today.”

  I heard Nishi gasp. “That isn’t true! Olivia is an amazing dancer! And I love her hair.”

  I saw Victorine and Marguerite exchange glances. “Yeah, Luisa,” Marguerite said. “I think you’re being a little harsh. Just because Olivia and Prince Khalil are friends—”

  But even though Marguerite was trying to exercise a little royal diplomacy, this turned out to be the worst thing she could have said.

  “Oh, Olivia and Prince Khalil are ‘friends’ now?” Luisa snapped. “Just how ‘friendly’ are you with Prince Khalil, Olivia?”

  “What?” I had no idea what she was talking about, but Marguerite and Victorine seemed to, since they exchanged meaningful looks, their eyebrows raised. “Luisa, I told you. He only came over here a few times to help get rid of our iguanas.”

  “If all he did while he was here was get rid of your iguanas, Princess Olivia, then how come you never told me about it?” Luisa demanded. “Why was it such a secret?”

  “It … it wasn’t a secret,” I stammered. “I mean, it was a secret from my sister, because it was supposed to be a wedding surprise for her, like the presentation. But it wasn’t a secret from you.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me?” Luisa yelled. Fortunately the only people who were around were Nishi and my cousins and a few palace staff members, not Prince Khalil or the prime minister or anyone else in the bridal party, since they were all still inside the throne room. Otherwise I’d have been even more mortified. “You know I like him!”

  “Um,” Nishi said. “Not to interrupt, but Olivia told me she IS just friends with Prince Khalil. If that helps.”

  “Well, it doesn’t,” Luisa said, and flipped some of her long blond hair. “Thank you very much. And it might interest you to know, Nisha, or whatever your name is, that your friend is a boyfriend stealer.”

  I gasped. So did Victorine and Marguerite. So did Nishi. So did some of the palace staff members.

  “No,” I said, feeling my eyes fill with tears. “I’m not. I’m really not!”

  “Kee-yow, Olivia,” Luisa said. “Was I ever wrong about you. I thought you and I were going to be friends. But I can see now that you’re just another royal backstabber. Well, look out, because two can play at that game.”

  Friday, June 19

  6:30 P.M.

  Royal Genovian Bedroom

  Nishi says I should just ignore Luisa. “She’s obviously demented.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But she’s still my cousin.”

  “So what? I have a lot of cousins, too,” Nishi pointed out. “One of them holds the record for owning the world’s largest rubber-band ball. That doesn’t mean I’d ever take anything he said seriously, because he’s as crazy as Luisa is.”

  “Good point.”

  Still, I can’t help feeling terrible about what Luisa called me—a royal backstabber and a boyfriend stealer. Even if I didn’t do what she accused me of doing, I don’t want anyone to think badly of me … even a snob like Luisa.

  I felt so horrible about the whole thing that when we were all getting ready for dinner, I went down the hall from my room to Grandmère’s, hoping I could ask her advice about what I should do. I’ve had good luck following Grandmère’s advice in the past. And I knew everyone else would be busy with prewedding jitters.

  Grandmère doesn’t get the jitters.

  Her maid answered the door, and, seeing it was me, let me in. Grandmère issued a rule that I’m always allowed into her room unless she has other company.

  Just like I thought, no jitters. Grandmère was still in her robe and turban, applying a thick white cream to her hands and neck. Grandmère says a lady should moisturize regularly, or she’ll live to regret it.

  “Olivia,” she said, “why aren’t you getting ready for dinner? Don’t tell me you’re feeling nervous about the ceremony tomorrow. It’s only live television. If you make a fool of yourself, someone else will soon do something even more foolish, and everyone will quickly forget all about you.”

  “Thanks, Grandmère,” I said. “No, I’m not worried about tomorrow. Or at least I wasn’t until you said that. Now I am. But I’m more worried about Luisa Ferrari.”

  “Luisa Ferrari?” Grandmère put down her cold cream and widened her eyes. “What about her?”

  So I told her all about Luisa … how she always said kee-yow to me, and how she was in love with Prince Khalil and thought I was in love with him, too (which I told Grandmère I am definitely NOT … although I do like the way Prince Khalil loves iguanas, and wants to save them all, and is always reading books about them, and how curly his hair is, and how his dark brown eyes look when he smiles).

  And how even though I did NOT in any way steal Prince Khalil from her, Luisa thinks I’m a backstabber, and tha
t she may or not be thinking of doing something nasty to get back at me over it.

  “I’m not saying any of this because I want to get Luisa in trouble,” I said when I was done. “I know a royal never tattles. I just think someone should know. An adult. Just in case.”

  Grandmère nodded, picked up a different jar, and began rubbing a new cream onto her face. She always says a woman should avoid three things: the sun, tanning beds, and men standing on the street, selling perfume.

  “Of course. I understand perfectly, and you did the right thing telling me, Olivia. None of this, of course, has anything to do with you. It’s Bianca Ferrari’s fault.”

  “It is?” I was surprised. “How?”

  “Bianca Ferrari is probably filling her granddaughter’s head with tales of how SHE should be the rightful heir to the throne, not you. Luisa’s grandmother thought she would marry your grandfather someday, you see,” she said, examining her reflection in the mirror. “Oh, I suppose your grandfather was fond of her, in his way … until I came along. Then he realized what a real woman was and never looked in Bianca Ferrari’s direction again.”

  I gasped. “Grandmère! You were a boyfriend stealer? A royal backstabber?”

  “Pfuit!” She picked up a lipstick and began carefully to apply it. “You can’t steal what someone never owned in the first place. Bianca Ferrari always had beauty, but not character or common sense. And those are the things one ought to look for in a life partner, because beauty fades, but character and common sense are forever.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “Yes, Olivia, oh. That is why your cousin is filled with so much hostility toward you. Because you have both character and common sense, which Luisa, for now, seems to lack. That—in addition to the fact that you’re a princess, while she’s only the granddaughter of a baroness—makes her feel insecure.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. Luisa Ferrari seemed like the least insecure person I’d ever met.

  But Grandmère went on, “Character and common sense can be learned, of course. That’s what a good education is for. But right now Luisa appears to prefer to spend her time focusing on her looks, and on securing a royal title for herself, perhaps in the form of marrying a prince.” She looked at my reflection in the mirror and smiled. “But she’s young. There’s still plenty of time for her to learn. And as royals ourselves, it’s our duty to help guide her, Olivia, into making the right choices.”

  I had no idea what she was talking about. I wanted to spend as little time as possible with Luisa. But if it was for the good of the throne—and the family—I guess I’d try to help. “How, Grandmère?”

  “I think both Luisa and her grandmother could learn to be a little more tolerant of others,” Grandmère said. “Especially commoners. It would be character-building for them. But the only way that’s going to happen is if they spend more time with them.”

  I thought of what Luisa had said about Rocky not being “royal” and how he shouldn’t even be attending the RGA.

  “Um,” I said. “I guess. But I don’t see how that will ever—”

  “Leave it to me,” Grandmère interrupted briskly, and removed her turban to reveal a perfectly coiffed bun. “Maxine, my tiara, please.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.” Maxine, Grandmère’s maid, went to Grandmère’s jewel closet to fetch her tiara.

  “Olivia, you had better go to your own room and get your own tiara. This is a formal dinner tonight. Hats and bats, my girl. Hats and bats.”

  Hats and bats is code in the palace for “tiara and scepter.”

  “Yes, Grandmère,” I said, and went back to my room, thinking about everything she’d said. I don’t know if I believe Luisa Ferrari is jealous of my character and common sense … and my royal title, of course. I think Princess Komiko is right, and Luisa is mean because her parents don’t get along and she’s mad about it and thinks it’s okay to take that anger out on other people.

  Maybe we’re both right. Like I told Prince Khalil, people can be more than one thing. Human beings are complicated.

  But in the end, it doesn’t really matter, because no matter why Luisa is the way she is, I’m the one who has to deal with it.

  Friday, June 19

  8:30 P.M.

  Royal Banquet Hall

  Prenuptial Dinner

  I know I’m not supposed to be writing in my notebook at the table, but I have to because I’m SURE Luisa is up to something. All night long she’s been giving me dirty looks from across the dining room!

  Then again, that might be because I’m sitting next to Michael’s mom, Dr. Moscovitz, who really is very nice and funny, while Luisa has to sit by some old boring friend that her grandmother invited who won’t stop talking about the stock market.

  HA HA HA HA!

  Oops, I know it’s wrong to gloat over the misfortune of others.

  But it’s hard not to be having fun at your sister’s prenuptial dinner, where everyone is toasting the bride and groom and telling funny stories about how they first kissed in a penguin enclosure at the zoo (Nishi thinks this is very romantic) and went to something called a Cultural Diversity Dance and how Michael used to be in a band.

  Even Rocky seems to be having fun, and he hates big formal dinners like this (but he gets to sit next to Prince Khalil, so basically, Rocky is in heaven).

  I never noticed before—maybe because I’ve never seen him in a tuxedo—but Prince Khalil looks a lot like one of those Bollywood movie stars that Nishi is always going on about, the ones who can sing and dance at the same time, unlike me.

  And he’s being so nice to Rocky! Some boys aren’t nice to other boys who are younger than they are. Sometimes they ignore them or even bully them (my step-cousin Justin used to).

  But Khalil is being very patient and kind to Rocky, even showing him which spoon to use for the soup, and making sure he knows which water glass to drink out of, so he doesn’t make the same mistake I did the other night.

  Awwww!

  Not that I like him or anything. I—

  Ugh! There’s Luisa, giving me the death stare AGAIN! What is her problem? I should probably tell someone besides Grandmère what’s going on … someone like Lars, Mia’s bodyguard, the head of the Royal Genovian Guard.

  But no, that might be overreacting a little. Probably Grandmère is right, and Luisa only needs our guidance and example as royals. My job as a junior bridesmaid (and princess) is to help my sister AVOID trouble during her wedding, not MAKE it for her.

  And I’m sure Grandmère’s plan (whatever it is) is going to work.

  So I’m going to keep my mouth shut. I mean, really, Luisa is a bridesmaid, too. The wedding is when she’s going to have her big opportunity to show off her Claudio evening gown with the detachable skirt in front of everyone. What is she going to do, try to ruin it? Of course not!

  Friday, June 19

  11:45 P.M.

  Royal Genovian Bedroom

  I went to bed early (or tried to, anyway) because Grandmère said we should all get our beauty sleep or every line on our faces would show up tomorrow on people’s televisions while we were being filmed at the wedding (at least the high-definition TVs).

  But just after I fell asleep, I had the worst, most terrible nightmare. I was in my purple bridesmaid dress (and I looked really, really amazing in it), and the wedding was about to start, but all of a sudden I couldn’t find Snowball!

  And this was bad because for some reason she was supposed to walk down the aisle with me (in the dream. In real life, pets aren’t allowed to be in the wedding, which I think is terrible and so does Mia. For a while she was saying it would be funny if Fat Louie could ride down the aisle on the back of her train, until Sebastiano pointed out that this would ruin her veil because it’s made of hand-stitched lace and it would tear apart if a twenty-pound cat sat on it and got dragged down a red carpet. Not to mention, Fat Louie would never sit still for it).

  So in my dream I was running all around the palace, looking eve
rywhere for Snowball, calling, “Snowball! Snowy! Here, Snowball, come here, girl! Where are you, girl?”

  And then when I finally found her in Chrissy’s stable, I was so relieved.…

  Until the worst thing happened! She came running up to me and jumped up excitedly (which I’ve been trying to train her not to do), and got dirty paw marks all over my beautiful purple bridesmaid dress!

  It was horrible! I looked like a total mess!

  But there was no time to clean off the paw marks (and they wouldn’t have come out anyway, because they were everywhere), since it was time to walk down the aisle, and Mia was calling me.

  So I had to hold my sister’s bridal train with dirty paw marks all over me.

  And everyone was staring and whispering about me and what a failure I was as a princess, in spite of all the training that Mia and Dad and Grandmère and the RGA and everyone had given me, and how I’d ruined the WHOLE WEDDING.

  And then the dream shifted to a news report of a traffic jam due to all the people who were leaving Genovia, vowing never to come back because of me!

  Fortunately that’s when I woke up.

  I was so relieved to find Snowball curled up next to me asleep in a little ball, without the slightest hint of dirt on her, that I grabbed and hugged her.

  And now I’m going to make sure she stays locked in my room ALL NIGHT and ALL MORNING if it’s the last thing I do!

  I won’t be the one to ruin this wedding. I WON’T!

  Saturday, June 20

  7:45 A.M.

  Royal Genovian Bedroom

  Wedding Day

  I hate her.

  I. Hate. Her.

  I know it’s wrong to say you hate people, but I don’t care. I HATE LUISA FERRARI.

  She is all the worst things in the world combined, every bad swear word I have ever heard my dad call the contractors who are working on the summer house, AND a bad person, besides.

  And I KNOW it was her, because Snowball was with me ALL NIGHT! I made sure because of my nightmare.