Undercover Princess

by Connie Glynn

  It did not take long to locate the William Tufty section in the library. He had an entire area dedicated to not only his work and any work he featured in but also a section of books and poems he’d loved.

  They found the rhyme in an anthology of children’s stories, and Lottie sat down opposite the others as they waited for her to read it aloud. She cleared her throat, feeling nervous under Jamie’s gaze.

  ‘They found each other in the woods.

  Together they did build a house.

  One was smart and the other was soft,

  The Vixen and the Delicate Mouse.

  They were champions of hide-and-seek.

  Every day they’d play a game.

  The Vixen was so clever that

  She hid inside the painting frames.

  The oak trees grew and soon they held

  A home for others to learn their tricks:

  Wisdom, valour and righteousness.

  They built their houses with stones and bricks.

  And now within the master’s office,

  Where he looks down on his house,

  His gaze on them with a gaze on him

  Of the Vixen and the Delicate Mouse.’

  She looked up at Ellie when she was done, light bulbs going off in her head.

  ‘I think it’s in the paintings.’ Ellie’s eyes narrowed, and Lottie continued: ‘There’re paintings of him all over the school … I think one of them might have the next clue in it.’

  Ellie stood, pulling Lottie up too and swinging her bag over her shoulders, ready to leave. Jamie didn’t say a word.

  ‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ said Ellie. ‘Let’s go and check them out.’

  Jamie seemed to remember himself and his face once again regained its moody composure and he stood up between them.

  ‘You can save your painting appreciation for another day,’ he said drily. ‘It’s nearly curfew and I’m sure you both have homework to finish and, Lottie –’ he looked at her sharply and all the anxious feelings she associated with him came flooding back – ‘you need to get back to thinking about this etiquette class, which is in less than three days.’

  Lottie gulped. Jamie was right. Before she could get excited about any mysteries, she needed to survive this class.

  25

  The main hall of Rosewood had been commandeered for the sake of the five-hour etiquette class run by a woman named Lady Priscilla. It was a rite of passage for the children of important families to attend one of these classes before their first public appearance at a significant function.

  Although Lottie had walked through the main hall many times in her months at Rosewood and had become familiar with the grand space, it had never felt as cold and forbidding as it did then. Every step seemed to echo louder than usual; every breath seemed to be more visible in the air. There were children of her age from all over the world. They looked immaculate and natural in their attire, ranging from saris to embroidered jackets with tassels. Lottie had had to borrow a dress from Lola, who’d been more than delighted to dress up Lottie, and they’d found an appropriate, semi-sensible mid-length white dress that she hoped met the dress code.

  Jamie stood by her side. They had arrived early and watched the others slowly trickle in. Everyone had either a bodyguard or an assistant with them. Lottie wondered if any of the bodyguards were Partizans, but they all seemed much older than their wards.

  Jamie was running through the names of each attendee as they entered, which Lottie tried her best to remember: Veevee Indriani, royalty from Rajasthan living in the USA and set to be an Olympic figure skater; Lachlan Kidman-Dolman, son of Angus Dolman the painter and Ingrid Kidman the opera singer; Edmund Ashwick –

  Lottie’s attention was suddenly cut off by the entrants who followed Edmund Ashwick. To her complete amazement, Anastacia, Raphael and Saskia walked through the door!

  ‘Wh-what are you guys doing here?’ Lottie spluttered. She hadn’t spoken to Anastacia since the library incident the previous week yet she felt a little better about having people she knew in this class. Anastacia was wearing a demure, floor-length black-and-silver dress, stylishly complemented by Raphael’s black-and-silver tuxedo. She was several inches taller than Lottie and her sharp heels accentuated the height difference. Behind her, Saskia was dressed sensibly in a dark shift dress, her golden mane tied up neatly.

  ‘I assumed you knew,’ replied Anastacia smoothly. ‘This will be my first year attending your family’s summer ball.’ Lottie blinked a few times and Jamie tensed at her side. Was this something she should have known? But before Lottie could reply, Anastacia continued. ‘And Raphael is here because he –’ she coughed – ‘he suddenly decided he simply must get this class out of the way upon hearing I was attending.’

  Raphael choked out a laugh. ‘Well, no one else is going to volunteer to practise the waltz with the wicked bitch of the west dorm.’ He smirked at her but she ignored him. ‘I’m totally doing you a favour by being here.’

  Raphael winked at Jamie, and Lottie was pleased to see he didn’t respond. She and Anastacia might not be the best of friends, but she didn’t like the idea of her being spoken to like that.

  ‘I’m …’ Lottie faltered for a moment then decided to just say it. ‘I’m really glad you’re here.’ And she was: she hadn’t realized until they walked in how nervous she’d actually been, and even though Anastacia was generally a little cold, at least she was consistent. She looked as if she were about to respond when suddenly Saskia interrupted.

  ‘Lottie, I’m really looking forward to our first tutoring session.’ Her voice was level and calming, instantly making Lottie feel more relaxed. Saskia curtsied, then looked up and gave Lottie a clear smile that made her feel odd in her fake princess role. ‘I promise I’ll get you a good grade; I’m a pro.’

  Lottie smiled back as best she could, wondering what Ellie would make of this whole situation.

  ‘Saskia is attending as my plus-one. Just like Miss Wolf is yours,’ Anastacia added, checking her nails for any non-existent scuffs.

  At the mention of ‘Wolf’, Lottie’s mind flashed back to that first day and the mysterious book left at her door. A strange feeling fluttered in her stomach, as if there were something she ought to know but it was somehow out of her mind’s reach.

  ‘Thank you, Saskia,’ Lottie said, ignoring Anastacia and amazing herself with how calm she sounded. She couldn’t explain why but she was suddenly very uneasy.

  Jamie coughed loudly, pulling her out of her thoughts. ‘OK – time’s up. Remember the protocol.’

  In the distance Lottie could hear loud clicks of heels on marble coming down the corridor to the hall.

  ‘Good luck,’ Lottie said quickly to her friends.

  Raphael grinned, but Anastacia simply nodded before they all stood in a line.

  The door burst open dramatically making Lottie jump. Red. That was the first thing Lottie thought when she saw her. Lady Priscilla wore a tight red skirt suit with elaborate ruffles and a white vest. She looked older than Lottie expected and there was a tightness in her face that suggested she spent a lot of time scowling. Lady Priscilla entered the room with slow yet easy grace, gently tapping a cane in the palm of her hand, taking in the room methodically. A thin smile appeared on her face but it did not reach her eyes.

  ‘There is little that pleases me more than when a child learns their place.’ Her voice was prickly like pins and needles in Lottie’s ears, making her shiver. ‘Most of you are broken, tainted by a lack of discipline, and I delight in the opportunity to fix you. By the end of my class you will no longer be an embarrassment to high society. I will shape you until you fit in with the world into which you were all so undeservingly born.’

  Lottie felt queasy. Suddenly Jamie’s rigorous preparation for the class made perfect sense. This woman was terrifying. She moved down the line purposefully, her rigid posture giving the impression of a cobra poised to attack. Her hair was coiled atop her head in a tight red b
undle with a small jade ornament in the centre like she had a little snake eye on the back of her head.

  ‘You are all here because you were born into an important family, and it is my job to make sure that importance isn’t wasted on you.’

  She stopped at Anastacia. ‘Miss Alcroft …’ She tilted her head slightly, eyes slanted. ‘Good posture, modest choice of attire … Good.’

  She continued to move along the line, her heels making sharp clicking sounds. Lottie held her breath and chanced a quick glance at Jamie who stood with the other assistants and bodyguards against the left wall. His face was blank but his jaw was clenched. He did not return her glance.

  ‘Master Singh.’ A thin smile spread across her lips that made Lottie shudder. ‘I had your brother in my class three years ago,’ she spat the words out like they were poison. ‘I sincerely hope you are more graceful than him.’

  The heels clicked closer and closer to Lottie.

  Please don’t stop at me! Please don’t stop at me!

  The bright red leather shoes stopped directly in front of Lottie.

  ‘And this –’ the woman loomed over Lottie, gesturing coldly at her with her cane – ‘must be the notorious Maravish princess.’ She lifted her nose up as if she were smelling something foul. ‘I must say, I for one was expecting someone a little more stimulating. From what I’ve heard of you I fear even my expertise will be lost on a calamity such as yourself.’ She slapped her cane into her hand, making a piercing thwack sound that echoed through the hall.

  Lottie felt the dread sink into her stomach. After all her careful planning and preparation, it never occurred to her that she would have to remedy the reputation Ellie had already built for herself. She felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes and had to bite her cheek to stop herself from crying.

  ‘I …’

  ‘YOU WILL ONLY SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO!’ Lady Priscilla’s voice boomed, making Lottie nearly jump out of her skin in shock. The silence that followed was deafening. Lottie had never felt so humiliated in her life. She firmly believed there was no excuse ever to shout at someone like that, no matter what the circumstance. No one has the right to belittle anyone like that.

  Lottie bit her cheek even harder, desperately willing herself not to say anything more. She thought of Anastacia, Saskia, Raphael and Jamie, who would all be watching her. She nodded slowly, looking straight ahead, thinking only of what it would mean for Ellie if she messed this up.

  Lady Priscilla twitched her nose like a little rat and sniffed. ‘Good.’ She slapped her cane in her hand again. This time Lottie didn’t even flinch. ‘Now let us begin our first lesson.’

  26

  ‘WRONG!’

  Lady Priscilla smacked her cane on the table next to Lottie. She had done this three times already but it never failed to make Lottie jump.

  They were sitting at the large oak table that had been laid out with a full formal place setting for every student. There was a wide gap between Lottie and the two students on either side of her, as if they didn’t want to catch the wrath of Lady Priscilla. They were practising the order of cutlery and the correct way to hold each item, but apparently Lottie was doing everything wrong.

  The worst part was that she wasn’t doing it wrong. Lottie knew she was doing it right – she’d studied this over and over, but each time Lady Priscilla somehow managed to find one tiny detail that she was messing up, from moving slightly too fast to having her feet crossed improperly. Lottie quickly realized there was nothing she could do except drown her ego, nod along, and say, ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Anastacia and Raphael were adamantly avoiding eye contact with her, while Jamie remained completely unreadable with the rest of the left-wall ensemble. Lottie felt like a total outcast. It was all her worst nightmares come true: not only was she failing but she wasn’t even blending in. Lady Priscilla was determined to make an example of her and there was nothing she could do about it.

  Ellie, what did you do to get this reputation? You’ve only ever met twenty people!

  Lottie fought on. She didn’t think anything could get worse than the humiliating posture training, for which she was made to walk the hall twice in front of everyone while Lady Priscilla pointed out all her errors.

  But she was wrong. It did get worse.

  Lady Priscilla had them all stand in a line once more. Lottie was painfully aware of the large gap between her and the other students to her left and right.

  ‘It’s time for the most important lesson.’ Lady Priscilla tapped her fingernails along the side of her cane, her thin little smile creeping on to her lips. ‘You are going to practise the waltz.’

  Lottie’s stomach sank. She’d been so excited about waltz practice but now all she felt was pure terror.

  ‘Everyone pair up. Chop-chop!’

  Oh my God! Pair up?

  No one was going to want to pair with her after she’d been singled out by Lady Priscilla so many times. The only thing that could make this worse was if she looked down and realized she was in her underwear. Lottie stood frozen in place as she watched all the other students find a dance partner.

  ‘Oh dear.’ The voice came harsh and cold behind her, not a hint of regret. ‘It seems no one wants to dance with the sad little princess.’ Lady Priscilla tapped her cane sharply. ‘And if you can’t do the waltz, then I’ll have no choice but to fail you.’ Lottie imagined a cruel smile on Lady Priscilla’s lips as she said this.

  Lottie gulped. If she failed the class, she’d fail Ellie too – she had to do something. She looked over at Jamie but knew as well as he did that assistants and bodyguards could not partake in the class. What could she do? She would not let this woman stop her going to the ball.

  ‘I suppose you think dancing, along with all your other royal obligations, is completely asinine?’ said Lady Priscilla, stepping round and aiming her steely glare on Lottie.

  Maybe Ellie’s right. Maybe these people are as awful as she says!

  ‘No, please, I don’t think –’

  But Lady Priscilla cut her off. ‘No one wants to dance with you because you are a shrew.’

  Lottie mustered all her strength and discipline to stop herself from flinching – she would not give Lady Priscilla the satisfaction of seeing her react.

  ‘Everyone knows about the untameable princess of Maradova, and if you think for a second I will be fooled by your quiet act today, you are as senseless as I expected.’

  Lottie felt her fists clench at her sides. This woman didn’t know anything about Ellie; she didn’t know that she had taken time out of her day to help Lottie with her maths homework, that she went to the gym every evening because she was so determined to get into the fencing team, that she cared deeply about her friends and was trying her absolute best. Lottie suddenly empathized deeply with Ellie. She’d spent all this time baffled that Ellie wanted to escape being a princess, but, standing there being victimized by this snake of a woman, Lottie found herself suppressing an overwhelming temptation to rip her dress and trash the room. Ellie didn’t fit into the cookie-cutter image of a girl, let alone a princess. She was unapologetic and ferocious and this aristocratic world resented her for it. Lottie felt her fists tighten even more. Ellie didn’t deserve this, Ellie wouldn’t take this, Ellie was better than this.

  ‘How dare –’ Lottie was ready to tear this nasty woman down when she was cut off.

  ‘May I interject, Lady Priscilla?’ The smooth voice came from behind. A surreal calm washed over her and she felt her anger slowly evaporating. She dared not turn round to put a face to the voice for fear of further irking Lady Priscilla. ‘I would be much obliged to have the honour of dancing with the princess myself.’ A gloved hand gently rested on Lottie’s back, causing her to inhale sharply. ‘I believe all she needs is a positive influence.’

  Lady Priscilla’s entire demeanour shifted instantly. Her shoulders relaxed and her face turned from sour to saccharine, as if this mysterious boy had melted all the ice within her.<
br />
  ‘Why, Prince Ashwick, I could not allow you to take on that burden.’

  Lottie felt a pang of irritation at ‘burden’ but was distracted by the word ‘prince’.

  The boy purred a soft laugh. ‘Any shrew can be tamed with the right suitor, ma’am.’

  Lady Priscilla lifted her head slowly, scrutinizing the two of them. Lottie shoved the insulting Shakespeare reference to the back of her mind, telling herself that whoever this boy was he must know that the only way to persuade Lady Priscilla was to agree with her.

  ‘Very well, Edmund.’ She gave her cane another thwack for good measure. ‘Let’s see if some of your outstanding discipline can be absorbed.’ Lady Priscilla turned round abruptly and walked towards the record player. ‘Everyone assume a starting position.’

  At last, Lottie turned to face her partner and gasped out loud. An angel! He was beautiful. Prince Ashwick stood elegant and graceful before her, dressed in a princely white outfit with gilded shoulder pads. His blond hair reflected the light and seemed to be made of gold. He turned to her and bowed low, but with complete sincerity. As he straightened up, Lottie was greeted with a soft smile and warm hazel eyes that contrasted with his sharp bone structure.

  ‘May I have the honour of dancing with you, Princess?’

  Lottie was speechless. Prince Charming is real and he rescued me.

  ‘Y-yes,’ she said, breathlessly. The world seemed to melt around her as he took her hand into his own. His other hand rested delicately on her back, pulling her towards him. He smiled at her, a friendly glint in his eyes.

  ‘Now, it is usually customary to bow or curtsy to your partner before the dance begins,’ said Lady Priscilla sternly, ‘but until I deem your dancing worthy enough, no one shall be bowing to anyone.’

  The music began to swell into the room, an elegant ensemble of strings and piano that harmonized in a way that sounded magical.

  ‘We shall begin with the simple box step. Hear the rhythm: one, two, three; one, two, three; one, two, three …’