by Meg Cabot
But instead, she held out my mobile. We aren’t allowed to carry our mobiles in school – unless we sneak them, like Luisa – and are instead supposed to leave them with our bodyguards, who are to contact us about calls if there is an emergency.
Which is what I thought there was when I saw Serena holding my mobile towards me. My heart gave a double flip, and I stood up.
‘Oh no,’ I said. ‘Is there something wrong?’
Was it Dad? Had he had a heart attack from all the stress of the rising wedding costs and sinking foundation? Was it Grandmère? Had something gone wrong with the purple dye? Or was it something even worse . . . my sister, and the babies?
‘No, no,’ Serena said. ‘It’s your friend Nishi. Did you forget she’s arriving today? She and her family just landed at the Genovian airport.’
Thursday 18 June 3.30 p.m.
Royal Pool
Nishi is here!!!!!
I can hardly believe it, but it’s true, because she’s sitting right next to me on a blue-and-white-striped sun lounger, in one of her five bathing suits, soaking up the Genovian sun (while wearing SPF 50 and a big sun hat and enormous sunglasses, sipping Genovian orange juice and petting Snowball).
We aren’t fighting any more. I forgot what we were even fighting about.
When I saw her coming down the steps from the plane, I ran across the airport tarmac and gave her the biggest hug, and she hugged me back. I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to see anyone in my entire life (except when I met my dad for the first time).
I’m the worst person. I can’t believe I forgot Nishi and her family were coming today! Although I have had a few things on my mind.
Thank goodness Mia not only remembered but sent Serena to get me out of class.
I texted Mia from the limo on the way from the airport:
< HRH Princess Mia Thermopolis ‘FtLouie’
OlivGrace >
Can I really have the day off from school to hang out with Nishi???
Of course. It’s what a gracious hostess should do! Although for some reason Madame Alain is insisting that you be in school tomorrow, which is definitely not going to work with our schedule.
Oops.
Well, I sort of have to be in school from 11 a.m.–12 p.m. tomorrow. And you and Michael have to be there, too.
< HRH Princess Mia Thermopolis ‘FtLouie’
OlivGrace >
What? Why?
I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise. But isn’t it listed on your schedule?
My sister (and probably all people with jobs, not just princesses) gets a printed schedule at the beginning of the week, telling her exactly where she’s supposed to be and what she’s supposed to be doing almost every hour of every day, Monday to Sunday.
But like I’ve said, getting a party organized for 500 people – now 550 – is very difficult, although things are starting to come together! I noticed the under-butlers laying out all the silver this morning, and the contractors have finally finished building the stage for Boris P to perform on. It’s definitely not going to collapse beneath him. All the bridesmaids – minus Tina – stood on it together and jumped on it up and down to make sure. Only Michael’s sister Lilly looked disappointed when it didn’t come crashing apart.
< HRH Princess Mia Thermopolis ‘FtLouie’
OlivGrace >
All I have on my schedule for 11 a.m. tomorrow is an appointment at the salon with Paolo. That’s when all of us – you and Nishi, and Luisa, too! – are getting our manicures and pedicures before our final dress fittings, and then rehearsal.
Ouch! I should have known Dad had been so distracted with everything going on, he hadn’t passed the message about our special performance from Madame Alain to Mia’s office.
Mani-pedis! That would be great!
Not really. Not the part about Luisa being there. But I know I have to act like I like her, because she’s my cousin and a fellow junior bridesmaid, and junior bridesmaids aren’t supposed to fight. It’s not about them and their personal feelings. It’s about the bride!
But can we do the mani-pedis at a different time?
< HRH Princess Mia Thermopolis ‘FtLouie’
OlivGrace >
Because there’s something VERY SPECIAL going on at the RGA at that exact time. Dad said he put it on your calendar and that you knew about it.
Something very special going on at the RGA? I’m curious! In that case, I suppose we can squeeze it in. Have fun with your friend!
I will!
So now Nishi and I ARE having fun! The most fun I’ve had in a while.
It’s so strange to see her here at the palace, sitting on the throne (the first thing she wanted to do), checking out the wedding gifts (they’re being stacked up higher and higher), and spying on the tourists (we joined one of the tours and they didn’t even realize who we were. Although it’s true we were wearing Visit Genovia! baseball hats). She’s posted a bunch of selfies of us online for the girls back home to see.
‘They’re going to be so jealous!’ she keeps saying.
So I guess I was worried about her thinking I’m not living a fairy-tale life for nothing. She thinks everything is amazing. She loves Chrissy, my bedroom, and even my closet.
‘Your closet is bigger than my whole bedroom,’ she said. Which is true.
She’s even more excited about the fact that while we were eating lunch, the housekeeping staff went into her room and unpacked her bags, ironed all her clothes, and hung everything up.
‘Of course,’ I said. ‘They do that for everyone. Unless you bring a monkey.’
Nishi thinks I’m leading the most glamorous, amazing life in the whole world.
And I guess I can see why to her it would look like I am. She doesn’t know about Prince Gunther wanting to be my boyfriend (not a good thing) or Luisa being so mean.
I could tell her, but why? After tomorrow, none of it is going to matter any more, because school will be over for the summer. And I won’t have to see any of those people again until the autumn (well, except for Prince Khalil and Luisa, Marguerite, and Victorine at the wedding).
But Luisa won’t be able to be mean to me in front of Grandmère. And I sort of don’t mind the idea of seeing Prince Khalil again.
If I can just get through the performance tomorrow, everything will be fine!
So I’m going to pretend like none of that is happening and be on holiday, like Nishi is, for the rest of the day.
Friday 19 June 11.00 a.m.
Royal Genovian Academy Courtyard
Well, I’m definitely not on holiday any more.
When Rocky and I left for school this morning (we go in the same car now), there were so many reporters, news vans and tourists camped out in front of the palace, hoping to catch a glimpse of the many royals and celebrities who will be attending tomorrow’s festivities, the Royal Genovian Guards had to come out mounted on horses to shoo them aside to open the gates!
Now there are apparently even more people and news vans crowded around the palace than there were before, so the royal motorcade bringing Mia and Michael here to school to watch our performance of ‘All Roads Lead to Genovia’ is running late.
I don’t know what it is about a royal wedding that makes people go so bananas.
And the ceremony is still twenty-four hours away!
I’m just sad that Nishi is missing all this. She wouldn’t get out of bed this morning in time for the limo. Her mom says it’s jet lag, but I think we might actually have overdone things a little on Nishi’s first day in Genovia. Not only did we go everywhere in the palace, ride Chrissy, go swimming, talk for hours and eat about seven pounds of Genovian pastry each, but my sister and her friends ended up joining us by the pool for her ‘bachelorette party’, and it went on and on for hours . . . into the night-time, even. I could still hear them laughing and splashing when I went to bed, and that was long after Nishi fell fast asleep on her sun lounger without even having had any dinner. Nishi’s mom had to
ask Lars, Mia’s bodyguard, to pick her up and carry her to her room because she was worried Nishi would catch a cold in her wet bathing suit. (Nishi’s dad couldn’t do it because he has back problems.)
My sister promised that if Nishi gets ready in time, she can come to school with Mia and Michael for the ‘surprise’.
Actually, though, I’ll be all right if Nishi doesn’t come. Seeing all the people screaming excitedly outside the limo is one thing.
But seeing me in my national costume of Genovia is another. Maybe it’s better if Nishi doesn’t see that. It might be better if no one sees it. It might be better if Mia and Michael have to turn around and go back to the palace because the traffic is so terrible, and this whole performance gets cancelled!
I know that’s a terrible thing to write or even feel, but I mean it: This is going to be a disaster!
Rocky and I kept our national costumes at school so the surprise wouldn’t be spoilt, but now I’m kind of wondering if that was such a good idea, because I think if I had shown my dirndl to Francesca, my personal wardrobe consultant, she could have had it tailored to fit me better. It’s much tighter than I remember it being when I first tried it on, and the puffy skirt is really itchy!
But a royal is never supposed to scratch in public.
I’m not the only one who is trying not to scratch. All of us girls are pretty miserable about it, especially since all we’re doing is sitting here, waiting.
It’s not fair, because the boys look really comfortable in their lederhosen . . . even Rocky, who threw the biggest fit about them! He looks like an elf. Everyone is saying so! Since it’s the last day of school and also a special occasion and also because the motorcade is running late, Madame Alain has let us have our mobiles (only until ‘the princess and her entourage’ arrive and if we promise not to mess up our national costumes).
All the girls want to take selfies with Rocky, even the high school girls. Queen Amina called him ‘adorable’ and lifted him up high into the air.
And Rocky doesn’t even mind! I can tell because he hasn’t mentioned farting or dinosaurs once (although this might be because he’s shifted his full attention to iguanas now instead).
The only person who seemed to mind was Luisa.
‘Disgusting. He isn’t even royal!’ I heard her mutter.
This made me mad, but I didn’t say anything because I’m trying to be more understanding and tolerant of Luisa now that I know about her parents. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since becoming a princess, it’s that being gracious and kind to others who are less fortunate than you is important. And usually your kindness will be returned in the form of others being kind to you – like Prince Khalil helping with the iguana problem at the palace.
So maybe the mean, bossy snobs like Luisa will get the message and start trying to be more like the person I aspire to be.
Although I’m not sure how well this plan is working. Luisa doesn’t even seem to have noticed how kind I am to everyone, let alone that I’m being kind to her.
And I think I might have been a little too kind to Prince Gunther. No matter how many times I tell him we’re just friends, he still thinks there’s a chance I might change my mind and visit him in Stockerdörfl.
‘Lederhosen are what we normally wear there,’ he told me while Victorine was making us pose together for a photo. ‘For relaxation and for sport. That is why I am so relaxed in them. When you come to visit me this summer, Princess Olivia, you’ll see.’
Uggghhhh!
Victorine thought this was very funny. She and Marguerite think Prince Gunther looks ‘very hot’ in his lederhosen.
Luisa says Prince Khalil looks hotter. I said it’s not a contest. It’s important for princesses to be diplomatic.
But I was lying. Of course Prince Khalil looks hotter! Prince Khalil is definitely the cutest boy in the sixth grade. (Not that I like him. I’m only saying that from an artist’s point of view, Prince Khalil is better looking than Prince Gunther. And of course Prince Khalil doesn’t have green hair.)
So it would be very nice if Prince Gunther (and my cousin Luisa) would stop embarrassing me in front of him.
I still don’t want to hurt Prince Gunther’s feelings or anything, but there is no way I’m going to Stockerdörfl over the summer to visit him.
So in response to his invitation (the third time he’s asked me), I said, ‘I don’t know, Prince Gunther. My sister is leaving for her honeymoon, and she asked me to take care of her cat, Fat Louie, while she’s away. She’s going to be gone for a very long time . . . two weeks.’
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Well, when she gets back, then—’
‘Yes, but then she’s going to have her formal coronation, accepting the throne from my dad. It’s a whole big thing, and obviously I have to be here for that.’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘But then after that—’
‘Well, after that, she’s having twins, and I’m probably going to have to help her take care of them and run the country while she’s on maternity leave and stuff. It might be very hard for me to get away. Maybe we can write instead.’
He looked kind of surprised, but in a good way.
‘Write? Like letters? I love to write letters! I’m very good at writing letters. And texting. Maybe we can do both!’
So now I’m going to have to write letters (and texts) with Prince Gunther over summer break.
But I don’t mind. It’s better than going to visit him.
‘Great,’ I said. ‘Well, goodbye.’ I held out my hand.
‘Goodbye?’ He looked surprised again, but this time not in a good way. ‘Why goodbye?’
‘Because after the performance, I’m probably going to have to leave in a rush,’ I said, ‘to go home to start getting ready for my sister’s wedding. So we should just say goodbye now.’
‘Oh,’ he said, and shook my hand. Fortunately, since I’d given him my lecture about being more careful with his flexing, he didn’t crush my fingers into tiny sausages. ‘Auf Wiedersehen, Your Highness.’
‘Auf Wiedersehen,’ I said.
PHEW. I’m glad that’s over. Especially since the motorcade is here! Can’t wait to get finished with this performance so I can:
Go home and have mani-pedis with Nishi and my sister
Be done with the Royal Genovian Academy for the whole summer
Finally get out of this stupid costume
Never sing ‘All Roads Lead to Genovia’ again
Never, ever dance with Prince Gunther again
Or even see him again until September
YAY!!!!!
Friday 19 June 2.30 p.m.
Royal Genovian Palace
Well, that did not go well.
Or I guess the problem is that it went too well.
Because my sister loved the RGA’s performance of ‘All Roads Lead to Genovia’.
She loved it so much that she’s invited all the students (and teachers) at the RGA to her wedding reception, where she says she ‘really, really hopes’ we’ll perform ‘All Roads Lead to Genovia’ again, because it is now her favourite song.
Madame Alain says this is a ‘huge honour.’
Frankly, I don’t agree.
Not that I don’t think my sister really, really enjoyed our performance. I know she did. When I came up to her afterwards, she was crying because she was so moved.
‘Oh no,’ I cried. ‘What’s wrong?’ I thought maybe she’d shut her finger in a door or something. The doors at the RGA are very old and heavy, just like the ones in the palace. It would be easy to smash your finger in one.
But that wasn’t it at all. Mia grabbed and hugged me and said, ‘That was the funniest – I mean, best – thing I’ve ever seen in my life! You guys were so, so good.’
And then I saw that she was laughing! So was Michael.
Both of them were laughing so hard that they were crying.
I don’t know what about our performance made them laugh – ‘All Roads Lead to Genovia�
� is quite a serious song. It isn’t supposed to be funny.
But I guess it’s good that they enjoyed it, especially since it was their wedding gift.
Only now I have to sing it – and dance it – again. And everyone I know at school is going to be at my house . . . just like Dad said was going to happen!
Including Gunther.
And I know it’s a very big house (a palace, actually) with a lot of rooms in which I can hide from him if I have to. But I wasn’t planning on having to hide from him at all, especially at my sister’s wedding. I was planning on having a good time!
Even worse, Luisa pointed out just now that Gunther could ask me to dance with him.
‘And not promenade Genovian-style, either, Olivia,’ she teased, ‘but slow dance in the moonlight in the royal gardens.’
‘Ooooh,’ Victorine and Marguerite said. Then they burst out laughing.
I really don’t see what’s so funny about any of this, even though I’m a Sagittarius and we’re supposed to see the bright side of things.
But I guess I don’t have a choice. We’re in the gardens right now, having aromatic salt rubs done on our hands and feet, and our finger- and toenails painted blush pink. Obviously, I wanted to get mine done bright yellow with purple sparkle polka dots, but we have to get what Paolo, the style consultant, says.
And he says we’re all getting blush pink, so we’ll match tomorrow on television.
We’re each getting different hairstyles, though, with flower arrangements in our curls. ‘Because every woman is unique,’ Paolo says. ‘Like the flower.’
I like this idea. I wonder what kind of flower I am. I think I’m a daisy. Daisies are cheerful but reliable.
I’m not saying anything to my sister about how inviting my entire school to her wedding may not have been the best idea (even though I don’t think it was) because Mia is in the first really good mood I’ve seen her in all week, and I don’t want to add to her stress.