by Meg Cabot
“Well,” Prince Khalil said, looking at the trap, “That’s something to think about. Anyway, one down. About a hundred more to go.”
I felt so grateful and happy that he’d come along out of nowhere and been so nice, I wanted to do something nice for him … only I couldn’t think what. Warning him about Luisa’s plan to make him her boyfriend at the wedding reception ball and dance with him in the moonlight and force him to give up his love of herpetology didn’t seem appropriate.
Maybe he wants to be Luisa’s boyfriend. I don’t know.
So instead I just said, “Well, I’ll let you get to work, then. Thanks a lot. If you or any of your friends from the herpetology society want to come inside for an orange juice or something, find me and let me know!”
“Okay.” He smiled. How come I never noticed before what a nice smile he has? “Thanks. See you later.”
“See you later.”
Somehow as I was backing away from the orange tree I managed not to trip over any roots or anything. I don’t know how.
Reading this over, I know it seems as if I like Prince Khalil, but I swear I don’t! He’s very nice and everything, but I have enough problems without crushing on a prince, especially a prince who happens to be my cousin Luisa’s crush.
But let’s just say if I were going to have a crush on a prince, it would probably be on Prince Khalil. He has very good manners and nice eyes and he’s kind to iguanas.
But I don’t. At all.
Thursday, June 18
8:30 A.M.
Royal Genovian Bedroom
When I woke up this morning, I looked out into the garden and every cage had an iguana inside! Well, almost every one. It looks like Carlos has “evaded capture” (as Rocky likes to say, when he forces me to play Astronaut Versus the Velociraptor with him).
I can’t wait to tell Prince Khalil!!!!!
Not about Carlos. About the other iguanas.
Of course, Prince Khalil didn’t give me his cell number, so I have to wait until I get to school.
But this is very exciting!
Although I can’t say that I ever expected I’d be excited to tell a boy—much less a prince—about a bunch of captured lizards in my yard.
No one else has noticed the cages except Rocky and Grandmère, because everyone else in my family is still asleep. Even more of Mia’s friends (and Michael’s entire family) arrived yesterday. I could hear them laughing and singing all night long, practically, after I went to bed. When I peeked out my window, I saw my sister and Michael doing this:
Weddings sure do make people happy, considering all the trouble everyone has to go to in order to have one.
Only Grandmère and Rocky were sitting at the breakfast table when I came down. She lowered her newspaper and asked, “What in heaven’s name is going on out there in the garden, Olivia? It looks like something out of a science-fiction movie, and not one I’d care to see.”
“I’d care to see it,” Rocky said.
“Those are live traps for the iguanas, Grandmère,” I said. “Prince Khalil is a member of the Genovian Herpetology Rescue Society.”
I explained how Prince Khalil and his friends had set up the traps and planned to move the iguanas to the Genovian golf course.
“Pfuit,” she said. “That should certainly be a surprise to the golfers. Well, be sure to thank Prince Khalil for me. Or perhaps when I see him, I’ll give him a nice tip. Do you think ten euros would be enough? I suppose I should make it twenty. Or should I tip a euro per cage?”
“Oh no, Grandmère,” I said. “The service is free. Conserving reptiles and amphibians and educating the public about them is all the thanks the society needs.”
Grandmère raised her eyebrows. But since they weren’t painted on yet, you could barely tell.
“Not very enterprising of them … but then, I suppose the prince takes after his grandfather. Extremely intellectual, but terrible with money. That’s how they failed to hang on to their fortune, you know.”
“I think Prince Khalil sounds cool,” Rocky said. “I want to join the Genovian Herpetology Rescue Society.”
Grandmère turned back to her newspaper. “Why am I not surprised?”
Thursday, June 18
9:30 A.M.
Royal Limousine
Got the biggest jolt when I walked into class today:
Prince Gunther wasn’t wearing kneesocks or shower shoes!!!
He was wearing long trousers, proper shoes, and his uniform tie, and his shirt was nicely ironed and tucked in, the sleeves rolled down so he wasn’t showing off his “guns.”
He actually looked … well, less horrible.
All the girls were buzzing about his transformation, even my cousin Luisa.
“This is because of you!” she ran over to whisper to me. For once, she didn’t look angry. She looked excited. “Gunther gave himself a makeover because you told him to!”
“Me?” I was confused. “I never told him to—”
Then I remembered guiltily that I had. Sort of.
“Wait,” I said. “I never told him to get a makeover. All I told him to do was to stop flinging boogers and making fart noises. And flexing.”
“See!” Luisa looked triumphant. “It is because of you!” She turned to Victorine and Marguerite. “I told you. A man will do anything for the woman he loves!”
I felt a little sick. I hadn’t meant for Gunther to stop wearing his shower shoes. Although I had to admit he looked—and smelled—a lot better. Those shower shoes were pretty old.
“I wish a boy would do something like that for me,” Victorine said with a sigh.
Marguerite agreed. “I know, right? He’s almost as cute as Prince Khalil!”
I expected Luisa to say something like “How dare you!” or “No one could be as cute as my darling Khalil!”
But she didn’t. She was staring at Prince Gunther and his makeover as moony-eyed as all the other girls!
I couldn’t believe it.
Not that Prince Khalil even noticed, because he was busy reading yet another book about reptiles and amphibians. He barely looked up when I crept away from the other girls to tell him that the cages he and his friends had left were full this morning.
“Oh, cool,” he said. “Some of the society members will be over to transport the iguanas to the golf course. Then they’ll set the cages back up and see how many more we can catch.”
“Great!” I said. “Thanks again for doing that.”
“I’m glad I could help.” He smiled, and even though I don’t like him as anything but a friend, I have to admit I can see why Luisa likes him so much.
I was turning around to go back to my desk when the worst thing happened.
Prince Gunther came leaping forward, bowed, and held my chair out for me (the way gentlemen sometimes do for ladies, except NOT IN CLASS IN FRONT OF EVERYONE).
Then he said, “Good morning, Your Royal Highness.”
AGGGHHHH.
But all the girls in class loved it. They giggled and clapped, even Princess Komiko. Even Luisa.
“Uh,” I said. “Good morning, Prince Gunther.”
I pretty much wanted to die on the spot. Although Grandmère told me it is humanly impossible to die of embarrassment. Unfortunately.
“I hope you are having a lovely day,” Gunther said.
“I am,” I said. “I hope you are, too.”
“I am,” he said.
“Great,” I said. He was leaning right over me! He wouldn’t leave!
“Great,” he said. “Do you notice anything different about me?”
“Yes,” I said. “You aren’t wearing shower shoes.”
“Yes,” he said. “I did it for you.”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s nice. I think you should go sit down now. Monsieur Montclair is going to be here in a minute.”
“All right,” Prince Gunther said, and smiled really big. “I’m very happy to see you this morning.”
“Great,” I said
. “But we’re still just friends, remember?”
“Yes,” he said, still smiling. “That’s what you told me yesterday. I haven’t forgotten. But you’re my first friend at this school! No one else has ever been so nice to me. Last night on the telephone I told my parents about you, and they want to invite you to come to Stockerdörfl to visit us this summer.”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s great. We’ll see.”
Grandmère says when you don’t want to do something, just say, Great. We’ll see! because that way you’re not really saying yes or no. You’re saying, Actually, my schedule is quite busy and I have to check with my royal secretary. But I’ll get back to you quite soon.
“You will really enjoy Stockerdörfl,” Gunther went on. “We are known for our excellent skiing.”
Luisa overheard all this and started to laugh. “I bet Olivia’s been skiing lots of times.”
She is such a pill.
“I haven’t, actually,” I said. “But I would love to learn.”
No. Not really. I only have time for one hobby, and that’s drawing. I just said that because Luisa was being so annoying.
But it was the wrong thing to say, because it made Prince Gunther look excited.
“Really?” he asked. “I could teach you to ski! I am as good at skiing as I am at swimming!”
Oh no.
Then, thank GOODNESS, the door to the classroom opened.
But instead of Monsieur Montclair walking in, it was my bodyguard, Serena.
At first I thought she was there to tell Prince Gunther to please back away slowly from me, because that’s what bodyguards are trained to do.
But instead, she held out my cell phone (we aren’t allowed to carry our cell phones 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 cell phone toward 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, June 18
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 anymore. 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:
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 through 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 underbutlers 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.
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.
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!
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 anymore, because school will be over for the summer. And I won’t have to see any of those people again until the fall (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 vacation, like Nishi is, for the rest of the day.
Friday, June 19
11:00 A.M.
Royal Genovian Academy
Courtyard
Well, I’m definitely not on vacation anymore.
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 nighttime, 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 spoiled, 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 cell phones (only until “the princess and her entourage” arrive and if we promise not to mess up our national costumes).
