by Meg Cabot
Mia looks really beautiful. The dress Sebastiano designed for her is perfect. He wanted to try to hide the baby weight that she hasn’t lost, but Mia said, “Why should I hide it? I’m proud of it. I have two healthy babies, and I’m about to be crowned ruler of my country. I’m a strong, powerful woman. Make me a gown that emphasizes that.”
So he did. When she came gliding down the stairs just now, she looked like a ship about to set sail and conquer a million armies. Emblazoned with tiny white crystals that sparkled in the sunlight (the rain has finally stopped), she looked more like an empress than a princess.
“Wow.” Michael was waiting with the rest of us at the bottom of the stairs. “Would you marry me?”
“Too late,” Mia said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “I’m taken. So who’s going to help me get this thing on?” She meant the Robe of State, which was being carried behind her by two very strong Genovian footmen. They were sagging under its weight a little. I’m telling you, that thing is really heavy (and smelly).
“I’ll help,” I said, as Rocky leapt forward to help as well. Rocky loves state events because it gives him a chance to wear his military attire. He is a junior officer in the Royal Genovian Guard, and during state events, he gets to wear a miniature sword at his side, which he always swears solemnly he will never draw and stab anyone with. So far, he never has.
But the Robe of State was too heavy for Rocky and me alone to lift to Mia’s shoulders. Michael, Dad, and the footmen had to help.
“That thing is going to give you both backaches,” Helen said worriedly, looking from me to Mia as we tried to straighten out the yards of red velvet and ermine. “Why does it have to be so heavy?”
“It represents the weight of the people,” Mia said, “and my responsibility to them. I’ll be fine, Mom. What about you, Olivia?”
I could tell by the look of concern she gave me that she’d heard about my “morning visitor.” I knew Grandmère wouldn’t have told her. She’s good at keeping my secrets.
But probably Maxine, Grandmère’s maid, had blabbed. It’s impossible to keep anything secret in a palace.
“I’m fine,” I said firmly. I feel fine, too, except for some slight discomfort in the midriff area. But that could be due to the fact that I ate four waffles for breakfast, so now my gown is a little tight in the waist.
“Excellent,” Mia said, and pushed a bit at the bun into which her stylist, Paolo, had swept her hair. You could tell that it felt as restrictive as my waistline. But she had to wear her hair like that, so the royal crown would stay on when Dad laid it upon her head. “Shall we?”
Inside the throne room, the orchestra is playing the Genovian national anthem. Outside, I can hear all the people beyond the palace gates screaming Mia’s name. It really is a happy occasion.
Too bad my heart is drumming so hard I can hardly write this. I don’t care anymore about the news cameras. I’m so used to them, they don’t bother me.
But somewhere out in that throne room is Prince Khalil.
I just really hope it’s true that he doesn’t hate me.
Well, here goes.
Friday, January 1
Midnight
Royal Bedroom
HE DOESN’T HATE ME.
I don’t know why I ever thought he did. I guess when someone like Lady Luisa Ferrari messes with your brain, you start thinking all sorts of crazy things.
Or maybe it was all the stress this past week, or of just generally being a royal. I thought carrying a bridal train was hard at Mia’s wedding? Carrying a Robe of State is ridiculous.
Plus I had my own gown to worry about. I was convinced my pad was going to leak and I was going to have embarrassing stains all over the back of it. These are things girls actually have to worry about when they become women (not that I’m a woman yet … but, well, I’m closer than I’ve ever been).
But it turns out I needn’t have worried. Everything turned out fine—at least as far as the ceremony went. Mia said her solemn vows to the prime minister and archbishop, promising to:
• Serve the Genovian people until death.
• Rule with wisdom and with grace.
• Be just and fair.
• Protect the monarchy and all within it.
• Devote her whole self to the country and the crown (although knowing Mia, she’ll give at least some of herself to the twins and Michael and the rest of us, too).
• Severely punish those who throw fish heads into Genovian waters and pollute them.
(This last one is mentioned at every Genovian state event, because fish heads polluting the waters of Genovia used to be a very big problem. It’s not the case anymore now that Genovian oranges and olive oil are the number one exports, but it’s tradition to mention the fish heads.)
It was after the last part that Mia knelt in front of Dad, and he transferred the crown—the one Luisa had taken photos of herself in—from his head to Mia’s. There were tears in his eyes as he did this. Not because he was sad to be giving up the throne, he told us later, but because his little girls were growing up so fast.
Then the prime minister declared Mia the new princess regent of Genovia … and everyone cried, “Long live the princess!”
I really thought the palace rafters were going to fall down, everyone was cheering so loudly. I guess it’s nice to have something to celebrate after a week of so much uncertainty. Things in the world haven’t been that great either, so when something nice happens, people have a tendency to really, really want to applaud it.
I even saw Cousin René and his wife and Prince Morgan in the crowd applauding along with everyone else (although Cousin René wasn’t doing so quite as enthusiastically). I thought they’d gone back to Italy, but Prince Morgan caught me today at the luncheon and said, “I told my dad I didn’t want to go, because I like you so much! I said that if he made me go, I’d just get in my electric car and drive straight back here. So he said we could stay.”
Aw! So sweet!
“’Tay,” repeated Purple Iris, who was following Prince Morgan around, her favorite hairstyling item clutched in her hand. “I bwush? I pay wif big kids?”
“Oh, gee,” I said. “That’s so great. Why don’t you go play with Nishi and Prince Gunther?” I pointed to my best friend and the prince, who were over by the fountain with all my other friends, laughing and having a good time together. I got the feeling from the way Nishi kept putting her hand on Prince Gunther’s biceps that old cheating Dylan was permanently out of the picture. “I have someone I need to speak to…”
Because I’d seen someone else in the throne room who I’d wanted to have a word with … someone who’d smiled at me from the audience as I’d walked by, holding the ends of the Robe of State. Someone who started walking toward me later, at the luncheon in the royal gardens as I was talking to Prince Morgan and little Purple Iris.
But as he got closer, another someone—someone to whom I most definitely did not want to speak ever again—stepped in the way.
“Olivia?” It was Lady Luisa Ferrari.
Of course she looked fabulous, as always, dressed in one of her Claudio gowns, this one in mint green.
Only this time there was something a little off about her. Her eyes were red-rimmed like she’d been crying, and her grandmother, Baroness Bianca Ferrari, was at her side, her lips pressed very tightly together.
“Well,” the baroness said, nudging Luisa in the side. “Say it.”
Luisa shoved some of her perfectly straight hair from her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I’m sorry for what I did the last time I was here at the palace,” she said. “And for the things I said to you. It was very wrong of me, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Just like that—Lady Luisa Ferrari had apologized!
I couldn’t believe it. Luisa had never apologized for anything before in her life (at least to me)!
But she actually sounded like she meant it. She didn’t look contrite (except for the red-rimmed eyes).
“It’s okay, Luisa,” I said, mostly because I wanted to get to the person who was standing behind her, his hands in the pockets of his tuxedo trousers. Otherwise I would have stuck around to enjoy her apology more. “I forgive you.”
Then Luisa did something that really astonished me. She stuck out her right hand.
“No,” she said, in a more convincingly apologetic tone. “I really am sorry, Olivia. I said I was sorry to your sister, too. I never should have done what I did. I don’t know why I act the way I do sometimes. Can we be friends again?”
I had never considered myself friends with Lady Luisa Ferrari in the first place.
But suddenly that didn’t sound like such a terrible thing to be. We all grow and mature at our own rate. Maybe Luisa was finally catching up to me.
“Sure,” I said, and shook hands with her … even though of course a part of me was totally suspicious of what she wanted. Continued unrestricted access to the palace of Genovia, so maybe next time she could steal the palace jewels?
It was possible.
But it was also possible that she was genuinely sorry, and really did want to be friends at last.
A true royal would give her the benefit of the doubt, so that’s exactly what I did.
“Thanks,” Luisa said, looking relieved as she pumped my hand up and down.
“You’re welcome.” Then I lowered my voice so that the baroness wouldn’t overhear. “Hey, Luisa. Do you have a tampon I could borrow?”
She stopped pumping my hand, looking confused. “Wh-what?”
I started laughing. “Ha. Never mind.” I raised my voice so that the baroness could hear me. “It was so lovely of you both to attend today’s ceremony. Won’t you step inside the dining room? I believe tea sandwiches and champagne are being served.”
“Now, that,” I heard the baroness say as they walked away, “is how a true princess behaves. You could learn a lot from that young lady, Luisa.”
Luisa only grumbled something I couldn’t hear, then whacked at a rosebush with her Claudio handbag.
That’s when the best thing ever happened:
Prince Khalil stepped out from the shade of the palm tree under which he’d been standing and smiled at me.
“So are you and your cousin Luisa friends again?” he asked.
I shrugged, even though Grandmère says it is rude for princesses to shrug, especially when they’re wearing off-the-shoulder gowns, which I happened to be wearing at that moment.
“She apologized,” I said.
He raised those dark, thick eyebrows I have to admit I love so much. “And you forgave her?”
“It’s the responsibility of a princess to be just and fair.” Then I grinned. “Actually, I just wanted to get rid of her so I could talk to you. I saw you standing over there.”
He grinned back. “That sounds just and fair to me. Anyway, here.”
I looked down to see that he’d pressed a small, brightly colored cardboard box into my hand.
“What’s this?” I asked, surprised.
“It’s your gift,” he said, seeming surprised that I was surprised. “The one I brought you from Paris. Open it.”
“Oh.” I’d sort of allowed myself to become convinced by Nishi that my gift was a kiss after all.
But of course it wasn’t! How could I have been so silly? It was something in a brightly colored little cardboard box that rattled a bit when I shook it.
“Don’t shake it,” Prince Khalil said. “You’ll break it.”
“Oops,” I said. “Sorry. But Khalil, I didn’t get you anything except that snake book because we promised we were only ever going to give each other books. And then I thought all those horrible things about you just because Luisa—”
“I know, I know,” he said. “Let’s never talk about that again. And I know about the books. But I went to Paris and saw this one thing and thought of you, and knew you had to have it. So open it.”
Still feeling guilty, I opened the box’s elaborate lid. I did not deserve a gift, especially from someone as sweet as Prince Khalil …
“You shouldn’t have done this,” I said as I worked the tabs to the box’s lid. They were somewhat complicated, almost origami-like. “You know that—”
Then I saw what was inside the box, and almost burst out laughing.
“See?” Prince Khalil was grinning ear-to-ear as he saw my stunned—but pleased—reaction. “I knew you’d like it. But that’s why I had to give it to you sooner than later. Any more time, and they’d all be stale.”
Inside the box were six perfectly stacked macarons, each a different color of the rainbow.
“I know how much you love them,” he went on excitedly. “And these are from a special shop in Paris. The pastry chef is supposed to be the best macaron baker in the world. And he makes them in really crazy flavors I just knew you’d want to try. I got you coffee, and tea, and bacon—can you imagine, a bacon macaron?—and bittersweet chocolate, and hazelnut, and—”
Before he could say another word, and before I lost my nerve—or the impulse—I reached up, wrapped an arm around his neck, and kissed him on the lips.
“Hey,” he said softly, but not in a displeased way, when I pulled my face from his. He looked down at me with a confused expression on his face. “What was that for?”
“To say thank you,” I said. “For giving me the best gift ever.”
He looked even more confused. “Macarons?”
“Yes,” I said. “Macarons.”
But I didn’t mean the macarons, of course. I meant his friendship … and his heart, which I could feel thumping against me.
And just like Mia vowed in the throne room, I mean to do everything I can from now on to protect it.
So I kissed him again, for good measure …
And he kissed me back!
About the Author
Meg Cabot is the #1 New York Times–bestselling author of the beloved and critically acclaimed Princess Diaries books, which were made into wildly popular Disney movies of the same name. There have been over 25 million copies of Meg’s books for both adults and teens/tweens sold in 38 countries. Her last name rhymes with habit, as in “her books can be habit-forming.” She currently lives in Key West, Florida, with her husband and various cats.
Visit her online at megcabot.com, or sign up for email updates here.
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First hardcover edition, 2018
eBook edition, August 2018
eISBN 9781250111531
Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Invitation
Monday, December 28, 11:30 AM, Royal Pool
Monday, December 28, 1:30 PM, Royal Sitting Room
Monday, December 28, 8:00 PM, Royal Dining Room
Monday, December 28, 11:30 PM, Royal Genovian Billiards Room
Tuesday, December 29, 2:00 AM, Royal Genovian Be
droom
Tuesday, December 29, 9:30 AM, Royal Genovian Bedroom
Tuesday, December 29, 10:15 AM, Royal Dining Room
Tuesday, December 29, 12:30 PM, Royal Pool
Tuesday, December 29, 1:30 PM, Still at the Royal Pool
Tuesday, December 29, 3:30 PM, Royal Pool
Tuesday, December 29, 4:45 PM, High Tea, Royal Genovian Gardens
Tuesday, December 29, 5:30 PM, High Tea, Royal Genovian Gardens
Tuesday, December 29, 6:30 PM, Royal Genovian Gardens
Tuesday, December 29, 7:00 PM, Royal Genovian Gardens
Wednesday, December 30, 8:00 AM, Royal Genovian Bedroom
Wednesday, December 30, Noon, Royal Media Room
Wednesday, December 30, 6:00 PM, Royal Dining Room
Wednesday, December 30, 10:00 PM, Royal Bedroom
Thursday, December 31, 10:30 AM, Royal Bedroom
Thursday, December 31, 12:45 PM, Grand Staircase
Friday, January 1, Midnight, Royal Bedroom
About the Author
Copyright
