by Meg Cabot
I guess it’s one thing to be called ‘the World’s Prettiest Princess Bride’ by RateTheRoyals.com, but it’s quite another actually to have to be a princess bride and have people coming up to you going, ‘Princess, we don’t have a school for all the refugee children now that we have housing for them. What should we do?’ and ‘Princess, we don’t have enough food for all the wedding guests. What should we do?’
When I went to grab Snowball out of the kitchens (I knew she was in there! Fortunately I caught her before anyone noticed . . . Now I’m keeping her on a leash next to my sun lounger), I overheard Chef Bernard freaking out.
‘I just got the last shipment of spiny lobsters in all of southern Europe!’ Chef Bernard was yelling. ‘How am I going to stretch it out to feed seven hundred people? How? How?’
I know Mia thought she was doing a kind thing inviting everyone from the RGA to the reception, especially since we so touched her with our moving vocal and dance performance.
But not everyone is happy about it. Like Chef Bernard, for instance. Or me.
Oh well.
I guess that’s not the point. Spreading joy throughout the land is. Prince Gunther is super happy about it. He’s already texted me three times while I’ve been writing this to say how excited he is:
< HRH Prince Gunther
OlivGrace >
Princess Olivia, when I see you tomorrow, I will have a surprise for you that I think you will like!
Thanks, Gunther, that’s really really really nice of you. But you don’t need to do that.
No, this I want to do, because you have been so kind to me.
Oh no! What could the surprise be?
I just showed this text to Nishi, and she went, ‘Awwww! I want a prince to bring ME a surprise.’
‘I know what it is,’ Luisa said from her sun lounger. ‘Skis!’ Then she and Victorine and Marguerite laughed uproariously.
‘Stop it, Luisa,’ I said. ‘It’s not going to be skis.’
At least, I hope not.
‘What are you girls laughing about?’ my sister’s friend Tina wanted to know.
‘Nothing,’ we all said in unison. Because it didn’t seem very princessy to talk about boys in front of grown-ups.
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I thought it might be Boris P. Because you know he’s going to be here any minute. Not that I care.’
It was awesome of her to say this, because it distracted Luisa and the other girls away from me and the Gunther situation. They all started squealing excitedly about Boris P, because it turns out he’s a really big rock star, even in Genovia, where people are more interested in royalty than they are in rock stars, generally.
At least, people like Grandmère. I feel kind of bad that we didn’t invite Prince Gunther’s parents to the wedding.
But he said (in another text that I just got! Number four!) that they couldn’t have come, due to being at a yoga retreat in India. He was going to have had to stay at school all weekend anyway because his parents weren’t coming to pick him up until Monday, partly due to not being home and partly due to having heard the traffic in and around Genovia tomorrow was going to be so bad, thanks to the wedding. They’ve already issued warnings up and down the coast about it!
Poor Gunther!
But when I mentioned this to Grandmère just now (about the traffic warnings), she got excited instead of concerned. She started bragging to everyone who would listen, gesturing so violently with her hands that Rommel, who was sitting on her lap as she got her toenails done, almost fell off.
‘Traffic jams along the coast,’ she cried to Michael’s mom, Dr Moscovitz, who was sitting on the sun lounger next to her. ‘Did you hear? Traffic jams along the coast!’
‘Oh,’ Dr Moscovitz said, looking bewildered. ‘Is that a good thing?’
‘Of course it is!’ Grandmère shouted. ‘It’s a tremendous thing! It’s a spectacular thing! More traffic means more tourist dollars for Genovia! This wedding is going to save this country from financial ruin!’
‘Oh,’ Dr Moscovitz said, smiling. ‘How lovely. I’m delighted my son could help.’
I’m glad Grandmère is in such a good mood.
And things are only getting better, since Sebastiano really liked her idea about dyeing all the bridesmaid dresses purple. He just came over to the side of the pool and said, ‘Look at all these beaut ladies! You are look like the mermaids by the crystal grotto!’ (My cousin Sebastiano, the fashion designer, speaks about as much English as I speak Italian, and often remembers only the first syllable of words.)
Luisa and Victorine and Marguerite and Nishi and Mia’s friends asked Sebastiano if their dresses were ready, and he said, ‘Si’ (Si is yes in Italian). ‘They are ready, and are even more beaut than you will remem!’
Then I saw him wink at Grandmère, who only smiled mysteriously (a royal never winks).
Which must mean the dye worked!
Everyone is going to be so surprised . . . especially Mia.
But surprised in a good way, hopefully, like she was with the ‘All Roads Lead to Genovia’ performance.
I just wish I could figure out what to give Mia and Michael as a wedding present. Because I really don’t think a dance in dirndls makes a good present for anyone.
Friday 19 June 4.00 p.m.
Royal Throne Room Wedding Rehearsal
I cannot believe my cousin Luisa.
Seriously. I cannot believe someone like her actually exists!
I know it’s not completely her fault because she has an unhappy home life (at least according to Princess Komiko and Grandmère, too, if everything she’s said about Luisa’s grandmother the baroness is true).
But that doesn’t give her an excuse to act like a complete brat!
Everything was going fine – we were getting along pretty well at the pool – until it was time to get dressed and go to the wedding rehearsal.
It wasn’t a dress rehearsal, so no one has seen their bridesmaid dresses yet (thank goodness, because we don’t need any MORE drama, which is apparently what Luisa specializes in).
But it was the first time we’d seen the boys since the performance this morning.
Well, one boy in particular. You can guess which one.
OK. Prince Khalil.
For some reason, when the boys were around – Michael and my dad and Rocky and the rest of the groomsmen, meaning you-know-who . . . PRINCE KHALIL – some of the girls in the wedding party began to act a little bit silly, doing the Whip and Nae Nae down the aisle instead of walking with proper grace and decorum, like Vivianne, the director of Palace Affairs, instructed us.
OK, ONE girl in the wedding party started doing this: Lady Luisa Ferrari.
She wouldn’t take anything that Vivianne was saying seriously! She kept goofing about, especially any time she had to walk in front of me and Nishi, which was basically all the time!!
The way the royal wedding worked was, the boys walked down the aisle first, after the prime minister, who’s the person who’ll be marrying Mia and Michael tomorrow. So, first the groomsmen and Michael, then Rocky with the rings (for the rehearsal they were using fake ones, thank goodness, so there was less chance of his losing them).
Then the bridesmaids went.
Then the junior bridesmaids, Victorine, Marguerite and Luisa.
Luisa and Victorine and Marguerite were supposed to scatter flower petals on the red carpet in front of my sister (white flower petals, not purple ones. Grandmère and I agreed that white flower petals would look better on the red carpet than purple ones).
Then Mia, escorted by her mom and dad (in Genovia, it’s traditional for both of the bride’s parents to give her away), walked down the long aisle, followed by me and Nishi, holding the fifteen-foot train to Mia’s bridal gown.
Only for rehearsal, Mia was wearing a fifteen-foot tablecloth as her train (because it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding gown before the big day) so that Nishi and I could get a feel for it . . . and so t
hat the television people could figure out where to put their lights and cameras and everything.
So it was super annoying that Luisa was goofing about as much as she was, since some of us had serious practising to do (and also because her goofing about kept making Victorine and Marguerite laugh, and then they weren’t concentrating, either).
Also, I personally don’t think it impressed Prince Khalil at all! He didn’t even seem to notice. He was standing up at the front of the throne room with Michael and Boris P and the rest of the groomsmen, showing photos on his mobile to Rocky. Probably photos of snakes and amphibians, based on Rocky’s excited expression.
Of course, I understand why Luisa was trying so hard to get his attention. When she saw Prince Khalil, Nishi dug her nails into me and said, ‘OMG, Olivia! He’s sooooo cute! Why didn’t you TELL me?’
But still! No matter how cute Prince Khalil might be, Luisa was trying get his attention in the wrong way. It wasn’t very royal of her to waste everyone’s time, especially during a wedding rehearsal, when we all wanted to be somewhere else (like the pool), or, in the case of the prime minister, actually had somewhere important to be, such as her job.
Finally Grandmère had to say, in a voice so cold that it echoed through the throne room, ‘Luisa Ferrari. Perhaps you would prefer to attend this wedding as a guest rather than a junior bridesmaid.’
Only then did Luisa stop acting so full of herself.
‘Pardon me, Your Majesty,’ she said, and curtsied.
Ha!
Only instead of admitting she’d been in the wrong, Luisa came running over to me while we were sitting in the hallway while the TV people were working on the lighting, and whispered, ‘Kee-yow, Olivia! What is that bony old lady’s problem? Of course I’ll do it properly tomorrow. But unlike SOME people, I don’t need to rehearse WALKING. I’ve been doing fashion shows since I was a child. My mother signed me up with the top modelling agency in Genovia when I was a baby.’
I glared at her. ‘Don’t say “kee-yow” to me. And if my grandmother hears you call her a bony old lady, she’ll throw you in the dungeon.’
Luisa rolled her eyes. ‘Oh please. There isn’t even a dungeon in this palace any more. I heard your father converted it into a wine cellar.’
Sadly, this is true.
It was right then that IT happened. The thing that gave Luisa a COMPLETE ROYAL WEDDING BREAKDOWN. There’s no other way to describe it.
‘Hi, Olivia,’ Prince Khalil walked over to say. ‘I don’t think I’ve had a chance to meet your friend yet.’
Nishi’s eyes grew about five sizes larger than usual. Before I could say anything, she scrambled to her feet and curtsied. ‘H-h-hello, Your Royal Highness,’ she said to Prince Khalil. ‘I’m Nishi Desai. I’m Olivia’s friend from New Jersey.’
‘Hi, Nishi from New Jersey,’ Prince Khalil said with a grin. He didn’t seem to notice that Luisa’s face had turned bright red with rage. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you. So, Princess Olivia,’ he said, turning back to me, ‘I wanted to tell you, we’ll try to have all of the cages out by tonight. But we haven’t caught all of your iguanas. There are always a few left over that are too smart for the live traps. Plus there will be nests with eggs in them. We’ll have to tackle those next week.’
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Sure. OK. Thanks.’
‘Great!’ He smiled at me, and I couldn’t help noticing again how nice his eyes looked when he smiled. What is wrong with me? ‘Well, see you down the aisle.’
That was a little joke, because we kept having to walk down the aisle over and over again for rehearsal. Though not together, of course.
‘Ha,’ I said. ‘See you down the aisle.’
As soon as he went back into the throne room, Nishi squealed and squeezed my arm and jumped up and down a few times.
‘Oh my gosh!’ she gushed. ‘A real prince! I finally met a real prince! I mean, besides your dad. And he’s soooo cute!’
But I hardly noticed, because Luisa was giving me a death stare. Seriously. She looked like she was going to kill me.
‘What,’ Luisa demanded, ‘was that all about?’
I should have said, ‘None of your business, Luisa,’ because I have a perfect right to talk to anyone I want to without her permission.
But since I’m a princess and have compassion for others, and I know how big a crush she has on him, I said, ‘Luisa, Khalil is a member of the Genovian Herpetology Rescue Society, and they’ve been helping to remove unwanted iguanas from the palace gardens before everyone gets here for the wedding. So relax. It’s not as if he likes me or anything.’
But I guess this was the wrong thing to say, because instead of taking my advice and relaxing, Luisa got even more mad. Her nostrils pinched together and she said, ‘You? Why would someone like him ever like someone like you? Trust me, that thought never even entered my mind!’
That hurt my feelings a little bit . . . and reminded me of the mean drawing she’d made and left on my desk. Maybe that hadn’t really been a joke meant to ‘help’ me after all. Maybe that had been how my cousin Luisa really sees me.
‘What do you mean, someone like me?’ I asked, putting my hands on my hips. ‘What’s wrong with me?’
‘What isn’t wrong with you?’ Luisa shot back. ‘You’re the worst excuse for a princess I ever saw. You wear glasses, your hair is a curly mess, you can’t speak proper Italian . . . and you certainly can’t dance. You looked completely absurd at the performance today.’
I heard Nishi gasp. ‘That isn’t true! Olivia is an amazing dancer! And I love her hair.’
I saw Victorine and Marguerite exchange glances. ‘Yeah, Luisa,’ Marguerite said. ‘I think you’re being a little harsh. Just because Olivia and Prince Khalil are friends—’
But even though Marguerite was trying to exercise a little royal diplomacy, this turned out to be the worst thing she could have said.
‘Oh, Olivia and Prince Khalil are “friends” now?’ Luisa snapped. ‘Just how “friendly” are you with Prince Khalil, Olivia?’
‘What?’ I had no idea what she was talking about, but Marguerite and Victorine seemed to, since they exchanged meaningful looks, their eyebrows raised. ‘Luisa, I told you. He only came over here a few times to help get rid of our iguanas.’
‘If all he did while he was here was get rid of your iguanas, Princess Olivia, then how come you never told me about it?’ Luisa demanded. ‘Why was it such a secret?’
‘It . . . it wasn’t a secret,’ I stammered. ‘I mean, it was a secret from my sister, because it was supposed to be a wedding surprise for her, like the presentation. But it wasn’t a secret from you.’
‘Then why didn’t you tell me?’ Luisa yelled. Fortunately the only people who were around were Nishi and my cousins and a few palace staff members, not Prince Khalil or the prime minister or anyone else in the bridal party, since they were all still inside the throne room. Otherwise I’d have been even more mortified. ‘You know I like him!’
‘Um,’ Nishi said. ‘Not to interrupt, but Olivia told me she IS just friends with Prince Khalil. If that helps.’
‘Well, it doesn’t,’ Luisa said, and flipped some of her long blond hair. ‘Thank you very much. And it might interest you to know, Nisha, or whatever your name is, that your friend is a boyfriend stealer.’
I gasped. So did Victorine and Marguerite. So did Nishi. So did some of the palace staff members.
‘No,’ I said, feeling my eyes fill with tears. ‘I’m not. I’m really not!’
‘Kee-yow, Olivia,’ Luisa said. ‘Was I ever wrong about you. I thought you and I were going to be friends. But I can see now that you’re just another royal backstabber. Well, look out, because two can play at that game.’
Friday 19 June 6.30 p.m.
Royal Genovian Bedroom
Nishi says I should just ignore Luisa. ‘She’s obviously demented.’
‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘But she’s still my cousin.’
‘So what? I have a
lot of cousins, too,’ Nishi pointed out. ‘One of them holds the record for owning the world’s largest rubber-band ball. That doesn’t mean I’d ever take anything he said seriously, because he’s as crazy as Luisa is.’
‘Good point.’
Still, I can’t help feeling terrible about what Luisa called me – a royal backstabber and a boyfriend stealer. Even if I didn’t do what she accused me of doing, I don’t want anyone to think badly of me . . . even a snob like Luisa.
I felt so horrible about the whole thing that when we were all getting ready for dinner, I went down the hall from my room to Grandmère’s, hoping I could ask her advice about what I should do. I’ve had good luck following Grandmère’s advice in the past. And I knew everyone else would be busy with pre-wedding jitters.
Grandmère doesn’t get the jitters.
Her maid answered the door, and, seeing it was me, let me in. Grandmère issued a rule that I’m always allowed into her room unless she has other company.
Just like I thought, no jitters. Grandmère was still in her robe and turban, applying a thick white cream to her hands and neck. Grandmère says a lady should moisturize regularly, or she’ll live to regret it.
‘Olivia,’ she said, ‘why aren’t you getting ready for dinner? Don’t tell me you’re feeling nervous about the ceremony tomorrow. It’s only live television. If you make a fool of yourself, someone else will soon do something even more foolish, and everyone will quickly forget all about you.’
‘Thanks, Grandmère,’ I said. ‘No, I’m not worried about tomorrow. Or at least I wasn’t until you said that. Now I am. But I’m more worried about Luisa Ferrari.’
‘Luisa Ferrari?’ Grandmère put down her cold cream and widened her eyes. ‘What about her?’
So I told her all about Luisa . . . how she always said ‘kee-yow’ to me, and how she was in love with Prince Khalil and thought I was in love with him, too (which I told Grandmère I am definitely NOT . . . although I do like the way Prince Khalil loves iguanas, and wants to save them all, and is always reading books about them, and how curly his hair is, and how his dark brown eyes look when he smiles).
