by Meg Cabot
The ski boots felt VERY strange and huge on my feet, but Prince Gunther said that was because they were rented.
Francesca had warned me that this would happen, and had said we should buy me my own pair before I left, but Dad said not to be ridiculous, that he wasn’t wasting money on something I wasn’t even sure I would like.
This had caused Mia to ask sarcastically, “You mean like that race car you bought yourself, Dad?” which had caused Helen to burst out laughing, though Dad said indignantly, “That was different.”
Prince Gunther and the others took me to something called a bunny slope, which is for beginners to practice on.
But honestly it still seemed pretty high to me, and at first I was scared.
Prince Gunther was a really good teacher, though, very patient and kind, just like he is about everything.
“You aren’t going to fall down the mountain,” he kept saying when I asked if that was something that could happen. “You see? First you would reach the town square. You would ski into the coffeeshop. And if you are going too fast, you can always point your skis together like I showed you. That is how you slow down.”
“Or just fall over onto your butt,” Princess Komiko suggested. “You can always stop that way.”
“If you’re a baby,” Victorine said with a sneer. But it was a friendly sneer. She’d come along to watch, too. Everyone had come along to watch, it seemed, the spectacle of Princess Olivia learning how to ski …
… including Prince Khalil, who hasn’t shown one sign—that I’ve noticed—of texting Princess Sophie Eugenie. He’s been supporting me, too.
I’ve fallen down several times, but I don’t care. In order to succeed, you have to fail. Anyone who doesn’t know that has never tried anything before.
That pretty much describes my cousin Luisa, who is the only person from the seventh grade—I’ve noticed, with the exception of the 12th Duke of Marborough—who didn’t come watch me learn how to ski. Victorine said they’d decided they were hungry and went back to the hotel to have lunch.
And Prince Gunther still doesn’t suspect a thing! He is the most trusting person on the face of the planet … a lot like my dog, Snowball, who will run up to anyone for a pat on the head, even people with much bigger dogs, or people who don’t like dogs, or are allergic to them (like Luisa).
Snowball, like Prince Gunther, especially loves Luisa.
Fortunately I saw Grandmère heading in the same direction as Luisa and the duke. (Grandmère promised to watch Snowball while I ski. She barks too much when I do things she thinks are dangerous.)
Whatever Luisa and the duke are up to, Grandmère will hear about it from Herr Schultz, the concierge.
Anyway, so I’m not the best skier in the world.
But I’m good enough to graduate from the bunny slope, Prince Gunther says!
Which is why I’m on a ski lift (not alone. Serena is with me! I’m not stupid or anything. Serena is a champion skier. She trained in Zermatt with the National Women’s Team of Israel).
I feel especially bad about what my cousin is doing to Prince Gunther now that he’s been so nice to me and taught me to ski and all. He has NO idea what’s going on, and is off skiing on the more difficult slopes with Prince Khalil, Princess Komiko, Victorine, Nadia, and Tots, totally oblivious to the fact that his heart is about to be broken.
I just asked Serena if she thinks I should say something to Prince Gunther about his girlfriend (since she was there last night, and saw the same thing I saw), and she said, “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but that question is above my pay grade.”
Serena says she is only here to protect me from getting kidnapped or killed, not to give me relationship advice.
Which is a bummer because, based on how often her cell phone pings, I have the feeling Serena knows a lot about the complexities of the human heart.
Thursday, November 26
2:30 P.M.
Dogsledding Event
Oh my gosh!
Right after I wrote that last entry, I got to the top of the ski lift and realized I’d missed my stop.
Instead of getting off at the green slope (for beginners), I rode all the way up to the black diamond (most advanced—and dangerous!) because I was too engrossed in writing in my notebook!
And Serena had been too engrossed in texting with my sister about what to get me for my birthday to notice, either.
Serena said, “This is a gross dereliction of my duty, Princess. You could easily have been struck by an assassin’s bullet while I wasn’t paying attention. I am tendering my resignation as soon as we get down the mountain.”
But I said, “No, Serena. Please don’t resign. You’re my favorite bodyguard and I would be lost without you. You’re also the only person who can beat me at table tennis.”
(It’s true. Although everyone else might just be letting me win. Serena would never think of letting anyone beat her at anything.)
Serena agreed not to resign (for now).
But that didn’t solve the problem of how I was going to get down from that slope.
Serena wanted to go ask the ski lift operator if we could ride down on the lift instead of skiing down, but I wouldn’t let her. I said it would be too mortifying. Only babies, old ladies, and people from America who’ve been writing in their journals or overestimated their athleticism do that.
“But it’s my job to protect you, Princess,” Serena said.
“Yes,” I said. “But not just my physical body. You have to help me protect my pride, too.”
“Well then,” Serena said, lowering her purple ski goggles. “Looks like we don’t have any alternative, Your Highness. Come on. If we stay out of other people’s way, zigzag, and take it slow, I think you can do it.”
I looked down the slope. I’m not normally scared of heights, but this was ridiculous. The slope looked like a giant waterfall made of pure ice. It careened straight down into the center of downtown Stockerdörfl.
And people were expected to slide down that on two tiny pieces of wood?
But tons of people were doing it, flitting this way and that on it, like little brightly colored butterflies.
I’m no butterfly, though. I’m a human girl.
This was it. I was going to die.
“Okay,” I said. I lowered my ski goggles, too. “Here we go. This is going to be great!”
I had no idea I was screaming until an extremely tall man and woman in bright orange ski suits glided over from the restaurant.
“Ladies,” said the man. He had hair that was so blond, it was almost white. “Is something the matter? May I be of any assistance?”
“No,” Serena said coldly, fingering the Taser strapped to her thigh. “We’re fine.”
“We’re so fine,” I cried. “I got off at the wrong slope. But I can ski down that hill! I just skied today for the first time ever and I can totally ski down that hill!”
“Oh,” the lady said, laughing. “You poor thing. Don’t worry, it happens all the time.”
She couldn’t pronounce the letter w, so the word “worry” came out vorry.
“Are you here for the Royal School Winter Games?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m Princess Olivia Grace Clarisse Mignonette Harrison Renaldo of Genovia, and this is my Royal Genovian Guard, Serena Yehoshua.”
The woman and the man both looked surprised … in a good way.
“Why,” the woman cried (only it came out vhy), “we have heard so many good things about you, Princess! You are a friend of our son, Prince Gunther. I am Princess Anna-Katerina Lapsburg von Stuben, and this is my husband, Prince Hans.”
I nearly fainted right there on the top of the mountain. I was talking to Prince Gunther’s parents, the Prince and Princess of Stockerdörfl! (Stockerdörfl is a principality, just like Genovia, which means it’s ruled by a prince or princess, not a king or queen. Except that it’s not, since the aristocracy was abolished in Austria many years ago.)
“Your H
ighnesses,” I said, trying to curtsy in my ski boots and skis, which isn’t easy, let me tell you. “It’s so nice to meet you. Prince Gunther has said so many nice things about you, too. And I’m looking forward to having dinner at your home tonight.”
“And we are looking forward to having you!” Princess Anna-Katerina is the most beautiful lady I’d ever seen, with the exception of my sister and Beyoncé. She has curly blond hair and perfectly made-up lips and eyes, despite the fact that she’d been out all day, skiing. “Hans, shall we ski her down the mountain?”
“Yes, of course—with your permission, madame?”
I don’t know if Serena particularly liked being called “madame”—back at the RGG barracks, her rank is lieutenant—but she nodded politely to indicate that the prince could help.
Prince Hans held his ski pole out in front of him. “Just hold on to this, Your Highness. We will take care of the rest.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but Serena seemed to catch on.
“Oh,” she said. “Are you certain, Prince Hans? We wouldn’t like to spoil your run.”
“I have been skiing down this slope since I was a little boy,” the prince said, sounding quite jolly—a bit like his son. “I can spend one run doing a good deed for another, especially given the fact that I own this mountain!”
So I did as the prince said, handing my ski poles off to Serena and awkwardly grabbing the middle of his ski pole, while he held one end, and his wife held the other.…
And the next thing I knew, I was skiing!
Really skiing, not beginner skiing like I’d been doing all day, but swooshing down the slope as fast as all the experienced skiers—as fast as Princess Komiko does her ski jumps.
Well, okay, maybe not that fast, but it seemed like it to me. Prince Hans and Princess Anna-Katerina were probably actually going pretty slow, guiding me down the mountain between them, but to a beginning skier like me, it seemed super fast … so fast that tears streamed down my face (because, like any amateur, I forgot to lower my goggles). The wind was so cold, and bits of snow and ice were flying up into my face from the prince’s and princess’s skis.
But I didn’t care. I loved it! Because we were going so fast, and it was SO FUN!
Now I understood, even more than before, why people love winter sports so much. It isn’t just about the snowball fights and fondue and sitting around the fire. It’s about the thrill of gliding down a mountain as fast as you can go on a couple of tiny pieces of wood.
When the Lapsburg von Stubens slid to a graceful stop at the front of the Eis Schloss, I wasn’t sure who was sadder—me, because my ride down the mountain was over, or Luisa since she was walking out of the hotel at the exact same time, with the Duke of Marborough at her side.
“Hi,” I said, as casually as possible, wiping my lenses off on my neck warmer so I’d be sure to get a really good look at her. I wanted to see her expression. “Have you met Prince Hans and Princess Anna-Katerina yet, Lady Luisa? They’re Prince Gunther’s parents.”
Luisa turned bright red.
“Oh, er,” she stammered. “Your Highnesses. How do you, er, do?” She fumbled a curtsy, looking as if she might pass dead away into the snow from shock.
I couldn’t blame her, really. I would be embarrassed, too, if I suddenly bumped into my boyfriend’s parents while I was with the Duke of Marborough, the boy I’d been kissing behind my boyfriend’s back.
“Lady Luisa,” Princess Anna-Katerina said, looking genuinely pleased. “How lovely to see you! You look even prettier than in the pictures Gunther’s showed us.” She leaned down to give my cousin a huge hug, then kissed her on both cheeks. “Welcome to Stockerdörfl!”
Luisa looked even more startled by the warmth of the welcome she was getting from her boyfriend’s parents. “Oh,” she said. “Um … thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Such a pretty girl,” Prince Hans said, shaking Luisa’s hand. Well, more like shaking all of Luisa, because he was pumping her arm up and down with so much force. “Wouldn’t you say, Anna-Katerina? And smart, too, from what Gunther tells us. You like school, Lady Luisa?”
“Um,” Luisa said. “Yes. Yes, I do, Your Highness.”
“Good,” Prince Hans said. “Good, good! That is very good. It is good for Gunther to be with a girl who likes school. Because Gunther, he did not like school very much until this year, wouldn’t you say, Anna-Katerina?”
“He liked it a bit toward the end of last year,” Princess Anna-Katerina said. “When Princess Olivia invited him to her sister’s wedding, which sadly we could not attend. But that’s where he met a certain someone. I wonder who!” She smiled kindly at Luisa.
I wondered if the guilt was eating away at my cousin yet. She did look as if she felt really uncomfortable. The Duke of Marborough, standing behind her, had pulled out his cell phone and begun playing a game.
If my grandmother had caught me playing a game on my phone in front of my royal elders, she’d have done to me what she had to the duke and his Tupac shirt: whipped the cell phone out of my hands and given it to someone else—or stomped it to bits beneath her boots.
But fortunately for the duke, Grandmère wasn’t there to witness this rude behavior.
Prince Gunther, Princess Komiko, Nadia, Prince Khalil, and the others were, though. They’d made it down the mountain and were removing their skis before heading off to the next event. Prince Gunther noticed Luisa first and was waving hello, when he spied his parents.
“Father!” Prince Gunther ran to his dad to hug him. Then he hugged his mother. “Come and meet my friends!”
Luisa, meanwhile, took the opportunity to grab me by the arm.
“How did you manage that, Stick?” she hissed.
“Manage what?” I whispered back.
“You know what I mean,” Luisa said. “How did you manage to meet Prince Gunther’s parents?”
“Oh,” I said. “That. Well, for one thing, I didn’t go sneaking off to lunch with the Twelfth Duke of Marborough.”
She widened her eyes at me. “WHAT?”
“I think you heard me.”
I was really mad at her, and skiing down the mountain—even with the assistance of the Prince and Princess of Stockerdörfl—had given me the confidence to finally confront her. “I saw you last night in the lobby, kissing the duke.”
Luisa’s face turned the same pink color as her skating dress, which she’d changed into for the figure skating competition, which started in one hour.
“I … that was only…”
“It’s none of my business who you kiss,” I whispered. “I really don’t care. But Prince Gunther is my friend, and I thought he was yours, too. What you are doing to him is very rude. We are guests in his country right now, and so we should be especially courteous to him and his family, since they’re hosting this event. If you don’t have a crush on him anymore, that’s fine, but you should have the maturity to tell him so, or at least not sneak around behind his back with some other boy. Otherwise, he’s going to find out from someone else, and it’s going to hurt his feelings.”
Luisa seemed to recover a bit from her initial shock.
“Since when do you care so much about Prince Gunther’s feelings?” she demanded, narrowing her eyes. “I thought you liked Prince Khalil.”
Now it was my turn to blush. “I do,” I said. “But only as a friend.”
“Oh, right.” Luisa let out an unpleasant laugh. “That’s why you were hanging out with him so much this summer, and taking so many photos of him at the hockey game earlier.”
She said this pretty loudly. Loudly enough that several people looked over at us, including Prince Khalil.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whispered, feeling myself blush even more deeply. I hoped I was bundled up in enough layers against the cold that no one would notice. “Of course I was taking photos of him. That’s my job! I’m the school photographer.”
“Sure,” Luisa said with a sneer
. “Since when is it the school photographer’s job to take photos of someone with his shirt off at the train station? Don’t try to act like you didn’t. I saw you do it.”
If there had been an avalanche right then and there—just a huge wall of snow, tumbling down the mountainside, to bury me alive—I would have been totally grateful. I could not believe she’d seen me take that photo of Prince Khalil. This was seriously the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to me.
And I was pretty sure Prince Khalil had heard her say it.
“Listen, Luisa,” I said, grabbing her arm and turning her around so that Prince Khalil—who was definitely looking in our direction—couldn’t see our faces. “You’re right, okay? I did take that photo. But I had to. I lost a bet with my friend Nishi.”
“Oh, right!” Luisa laughed even more unpleasantly. “That photo is for your friend Nishi, and not because you have a total crush on Prince Khalil. I completely believe you, Olivia.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
Now I was getting desperate. “Fine, Luisa. You don’t have to believe me, even though it’s the honest truth.” I took out my cell phone. “I can show you our text messages—”
“I don’t care about your stupid text messages,” Luisa said, snatching my phone away. “All I care about is the fact that you try to act so high-and-mighty and better than me when the truth is you’re just as bad. You gamble, you take photos of boys behind their backs—or should I say, under their shirts—and you judge people when you have no right to.” She began scrolling through the photos on my phone. “And I think it’s about time that people learn the truth about their precious little Princess Olivia—”
My heart began to thump hard. Luisa was right. I didn’t have any right to judge her. I really was just as bad as she was.
“Let’s see,” Luisa said, gazing down at my photos. “What do we have here? What photos do you think certain people we go to school with might find most interesting?”
“Luisa.” I felt as if an unseen hand were clutching my throat. “Please don’t. Give me my phone back. You really shouldn’t do this. Think of Genovia. We’re both representing—”
