Next in Line

by Vanessa Acton

  Copyright © 2018 by Lerner Publishing Group

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc., except for the inclusion of brief quotations in an acknowledged review.

  Darby Creek

  A division of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

  241 First Avenue North

  Minneapolis, MN 55401 USA

  For reading levels and more information, look up this title at www.lernerbooks.com.

  Cover and interior images: Igor Klimov/Shutterstock.com (background texture); GoMixer/Shutterstock.com (coat of arms and lion); KazanovskyAndrey/iStock/Getty Images Plus (gold); mona redshinestudio/Shutterstock.com (crown).

  Main body text set in Janson Text LT Std 12/17.5. Typeface provided by Adobe Systems.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Acton, Vanessa, author.

  Title: Next in line / by Vanessa Acton.

  Description: Minneapolis : Darby Creek, [2018] | Series: Suddenly royal | Summary: A high school junior in suburban Ohio learns that she is actually next in line to the throne of the kingdom of Evonia.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2017044419 (print) | LCCN 2017056236 (ebook) | ISBN 9781541525955 (eb pdf) | ISBN 9781541525719 (lb : alk. paper) | ISBN 9781541526389 (pb : alk. paper)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Princesses—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.A228 (ebook) | LCC PZ7.1.A228 Ne 2018 (print) | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017044419

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  1-44555-35486-1/30/2018

  9781541531369 mobi

  9781541531376 ePub

  9781541531383 ePub

  For K.P., the best bodyguard a story could have

  1

  “Wait—I’m a what?”

  Carly Valmont stared at her mom, who sat across from her at the scratched-up kitchen table.

  Her mom gave her an embarrassed smile. “Your full title is Princess Royal of the Kingdom of Evonia.”

  “Princess,” Carly echoed numbly. This was not at all what she’d expected when she’d sat down with her mom and stepdad to talk about college applications.

  “And second in line for the throne,” her mom added timidly. “After Queen Emilia, your great-grandmother, dies, your great-uncle, Crown Prince Humphrey, will become king. He has no children, so you’re technically his heir.”

  Carly had never even heard of these people. Of course she’d heard of Evonia, the tiny European country where her dad had been born. But she didn’t even remember her dad, thanks to the heart attack that had killed him when she was barely a year old. Who were these random royal relatives of his? And how could she, a regular high school junior in suburban Ohio, be a princess?

  “That’s . . . insane,” said Carly. Normally, she was better at choosing her words before she spoke. She hadn’t become captain of her school’s debate team by accident. But this news was such a curveball that she knew it was pointless to try coming up with a more measured response. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this before?”

  Her mom shot a glance at Sal, Carly’s stepdad, who stood off to the side, leaning on the kitchen counter. Sal seemed to be very absorbed in picking dirt out from under his nails. Seeing that he would be no help, Carly’s mom said, “Evonia is your dad’s country, not mine. And since you never got a chance to know your dad, and our life has always been here, I . . . didn’t want to burden you with all this until you were old enough to handle it.”

  Carly took a deep breath and looked down at the college mailers she’d collected over the past several months. Just ten minutes ago, she’d been thinking about which schools she’d like to visit this summer, which ones had the best pre-law programs, which ones gave the best scholarships to top students like her. Her mom and Sal were always telling her to aim high, so it had puzzled her that they’d been so reluctant to talk about her college plans. She’d assumed it was because tuition was so expensive. Not because they’d known she could aim way higher than an advanced degree.

  “I’m sorry to dump everything on you all at once, honey,” her mom continued in a rush. “But your grandfather’s been asking me to bring you over there this summer—”

  “Grandpa G?” Her dad’s father. The only member of her dad’s family she’d ever had any contact with. A clipped, British-sounding accent over the phone on her birthday. A cheerfully dignified email at the holidays—always addressing her by her full name, Charlotte. Really nice presents that she’d always appreciated. But otherwise a stranger.

  “Yeah,” her mom confirmed. “Grandpa G is Lord Gregory Mortmain, the Count of Linland.”

  “Lord, not prince?” She wasn’t sure why she was zeroing in on titles, except that it was the most concrete thing she could grasp right now.

  “That’s right. He’s not a prince because he wasn’t born into the royal family. He married into it.”

  “Like you did,” guessed Carly. “When you married my dad.”

  Her mom gave an awkward little shrug. “Yeah.”

  “So what’s your title?” Carly asked her a little accusingly.

  Looking over at Sal again, Carly’s mom said, “I don’t have a title anymore. While I was married to your dad I was technically Lady Margaret Valmont, but now I’m just plain Maggie Acosta.”

  Carly turned to Sal. “Did you know about this all along?”

  “Uh, well.” Sal shrugged sheepishly. “It came up at some point when I was dating your mom.”

  So basically, yes, he had known about it all along. Sal had married Carly’s mom when Carly was four. He was the only dad she remembered. And he’d kept this secret from her too.

  “So you’re telling me I’m going to, like, rule an entire country someday.”

  “Well, Evonia’s a constitutional monarchy,” her mom explained quickly. “The royal family doesn’t have any real power. The government’s run by elected officials—a parliament. The queen’s duties are just ceremonial. It’s the same for the royal family in England.”

  Carly’s brain was slowly starting to wrap around what this meant.

  “Honey, listen,” said her mom, sounding almost desperately apologetic. “I know this is a shock. And I wish we’d figured out a better way to explain everything to you earlier . . .”

  “I wish you had too,” said Carly. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have been so worried about college! It’s not like I need to pick a career path if I’m going to be a queen, right?”

  “Um, that’s a fair point,” her mom said, looking a little surprised.

  “And I won’t have to worry about money, I’m guessing?”

  “Nooo,” said her mom cautiously, drawing out the word. “The royal family is supported by taxes that the Evonian citizens pay.”

  Carly nodded in satisfaction. “Just like US politicians get their salaries from tax money that the government collects.”

  “Right, I guess,” said Carly’s mom. “I never spent much time in Evonia, but from what I remember, your dad’s family lives pretty comfortably.”

  Huge knots of tension in Carly’s shoulder and back muscles dissolved instantly. All year she’d been stressing about how her family could afford sending her to college, about what career path she should choose. Her teachers said she’d make a great lawyer, a great politician, a great CEO, a great this, a great that. High-intensity jobs, every single one of them. Jobs with long hours and huge stakes and miles of loans to pay off. Now it turned out she could be a queen someday instead.

  Queen of her dad’s country. Following in her dad’s footstep
s. She couldn’t count how many times her mom had said to her “We’re so proud of you—and your dad would be so proud too.” After every good report card, every school choir concert and debate competition. It had always felt a little tacked on, a little forced. But becoming a queen: that definitely would’ve made her dad proud.

  “We thought you’d be a little more freaked out about it,” said Sal.

  Carly laughed. “This is actually a gigantic relief! I’ve been assuming that the rest of my life depends on where I go to college, what major I pick. Now the pressure’s off!”

  Sal grinned at her, and her mom let out a long breath. “Well,” her mom said, “you might have to do some planning. At least when it comes to how you’ll spend your summer. Your grandfather has offered to pay for you to fly out to Evonia for a couple of months after school lets out. You can meet your other Evonian relatives, see the sights, get a sense of the country’s culture . . .”

  Carly could barely believe that minutes earlier, she’d expected to spend her summer listening to boring campus tour guides and trying to impress college admissions staff. “That sounds amazing,” she told her mom. “When do I leave?”

  2

  The night before Carly flew to Evonia, the whole family went out for ice cream. Sal had suggested dinner, but no one could agree on a restaurant. When it came to ice cream, there was never a debate.

  “Bet they don’t have Frozen Paradise in Evonia,” said Carly’s thirteen-year-old half-brother Nic as the five of them sat down at a table.

  “No, but there’s a famous ice cream shop in Alaborn, the capital city. I read about it on some tourism sites. It’s more than two hundred years old.”

  “Can’t be as good as Frozen Paradise,” Nic said firmly.

  “When she’s queen she can build a hundred Frozen Paradises there if she wants to,” said Rafe, Carly’s other half-brother.

  Nic slurped around the edge of his cone. “Pretty sure Mom told us that Carly will have zero power. If she wants decent ice cream she’ll have to ask the senate or whatever.”

  “Parliament,” said Carly through a mouthful of chocolate fudge. Over the past few weeks, she’d made a point of getting her Evonian-related facts straight. She could rattle off the basics from memory: The Evonian monarchy stretched back to the fourteenth century. The royals had given up their governing powers fifty years ago. Now the kingdom was a constitutional monarchy, which was where the parliament came in. “But if I really need the best ice cream in the world I’ll just come back here.”

  “Oh, I see how it is,” teased Sal. “I kinda thought you’d want to come back and see your family, but it’s all about the food. Good to know where we stand.”

  “I’d definitely come back for your food,” Carly told him with a grin. “As long as you only made my favorites. You can’t order a future queen to eat broccoli.”

  “Hey, will you be able to drive here without a license?” Nic cut in. “And be exempt from speeding tickets and stuff? Diplomatic immunity, right, like people get in movies?”

  “Whoa,” said Rafe. “Carly, if you can’t get arrested in the States there’s some stuff I need you to do for me.”

  “It’d be my pleasure, sir,” said Carly. “Just waiting on the bribe.”

  “If I bribe a member of a foreign royal family is that treason?”

  “Nah,” said Sal. “It’s just a felony.”

  It felt cheesy to be hanging out with her whole family like this on her last night, but she was enjoying it. And she wouldn’t see them again for two months. Her grandfather had offered to buy them all plane tickets to Evonia, but her parents couldn’t get time off work, and the boys were already signed up for summer camp.

  Carly had never flown across the ocean before. Had never been away from her family for so long. But she didn’t feel any nervousness, just a fizzing excitement in her veins.

  She was ready. She still had her passport from when the family had taken a trip to the Canadian side of Niagara Falls a few years ago. She’d revised her packing list a dozen times. Bought little converters for all her power cords so that they’d fit in Europe’s weirdly-shaped outlets. Gotten some of her allowance money converted to euros. Downloaded a messaging app on her phone so that she could keep in touch with her family while she was gone. Read and reread her grandfather’s email about the travel arrangements. And spent hours researching Evonia online.

  She’d kept expecting her mom to offer to help, to give her advice, or just to tell her more about this country. But her mom had been weirdly quiet.

  Even now, as everyone else joked around, Carly’s mom just stared thoughtfully at the ridges of her waffle cone.

  “You okay, Mom?” Carly asked.

  Her mom snapped out of it and smiled at her. “I’m fine, honey. But we’d better wrap this up and head home soon.”

  “Mom, it’s Friday!” Rafe protested. “Live on the edge.”

  “Your sister has a very a long day tomorrow. She’ll need a good night’s sleep beforehand.”

  Carly wanted to ask what was bothering her mom, but she didn’t want to spoil the warm, comfortable feeling of her family being together. Maybe she’s just thinking about how much she’ll miss me while I’m gone. And how fast I’m growing up. All the usual stuff parents get mopey about.

  But she couldn’t escape the feeling that something else was up. Her mom didn’t seem to be happy for her, which didn’t make any sense. She was always saying, “We want you to live the best possible life.” Well, mission accomplished—or soon to be accomplished. Her mom should be thrilled.

  Sal caught her eye, then typed something into his phone. A moment later Carly’s phone buzzed. They sometimes played this game—texting each other when they didn’t want Carly’s mom to know what they were saying.

  The text from Sal said Don’t worry about her. She’s gonna be fine. Just enjoy this opportunity!

  Carly smiled and texted back, Deal.

  ***

  The flight to Europe was nine hours long. Carly entertained herself by watching movies and ordering far too many snacks. She’d never flown first-class before and was amazed at all the options. Not to mention the extra leg room. Thanks for the upgrade, Grandpa G, she thought. If this is what it’s like to be royalty, I am so in.

  She also flipped through the guidebook her grandfather had sent her. It had shown up in the mail just yesterday, so she hadn’t had time to look at it yet.

  Mostly it contained the same basic information about Evonia that she’d already found online.

  A tiny, often-forgotten country a quarter of the size of Rhode Island . . .

  Rich cultural landscape that draws from its neighbors, France and Germany, as well as later English and Dutch influences . . .

  Attracts enough tourists to outnumber its residents . . .

  A hidden treasure seemingly outside of time.

  That kind of stuff. But it was cool to look at the photos of breathtaking scenery and centuries-old buildings. It was cool—and still fairly mind-boggling—to think, This is my country. Someday I’m going to be the queen of this country.

  Sipping her third complimentary soda of the flight, she could hardly wait.

  3

  Evonia was too small to have its own airport. The plane touched down in France. Carly’s grandfather had warned her about this in his email. He’d told her that he’d send someone to meet her and take her to his private plane for the last leg of the journey.

  As Carly stepped off the plane, a burly middle-aged guy dressed like he belonged in the Secret Service approached her. “Charlotte Valmont?” he asked in a low voice.

  “Yes?”

  “Your grandfather sent me.” His accent was similar to Carly’s grandfather’s—not quite British, but not quite anything else she could put her finger on. He reached for her rolling suitcase. “Allow me, your highness . . .”

  Your highness. It sounded so weird, so unreal. “Um, that’s okay,” said Carly. “It’s not that heavy. And I mean, it�
��s got wheels. I’m good.”

  “Very well. We’ll collect the rest of your luggage before we—”

  “I didn’t bring any other luggage,” Carly said. “Just this.”

  The man paused. His expression was blank, but Carly could tell his brain was taking some time to process this information. Then he said, “Very well. Come with me then.”

  He started walking, but Carly hung back. “How do I know you’re not kidnapping me?” she said half-jokingly.

  The guy turned and blinked once in slow motion. It was unnerving.

  Carly tried again. “I mean, how do I know you’re really who my grandfather sent? Instead of some random person just pretending to work for him?”

  “Ah,” he said in a weary voice. “I was warned that Americans watch a great deal of television.” With a sigh, he pulled out a phone, dialed a number, and spoke into it. “My lord? Your granddaughter is here with me. She requests confirmation of my identity. Yes, my lord.”

  He handed Carly the phone.

  “Charlotte?” said the familiar voice on the other end.

  “Um, hi,” Carly said. “Just checking that I wasn’t about to get snatched and held for ransom.”

  “Wise girl,” said her grandfather in an approving tone. “That would be inconvenient for all of us. I believe you can trust Seton. I run very thorough background checks on all my staff.”

  “Good to know. I guess I’ll see you soon then.”

  “Safe travels,” he said briskly before ending the call.

  Feeling slightly awkward, Carly handed the phone back to the Secret Service guy. “Guess you’re legit, Seton. Lead the way.”

  “With pleasure,” Seton replied in a voice that would’ve been sarcastic if it hadn’t been so clipped.

  ***

  From the window of her grandfather’s little plane, Carly watched the landscape glide by below her. It was late morning here, so she could see everything clearly. The land was green and mountainous and beautiful, but it also looked shockingly empty. Other than the occasional light dot that looked like a distant farmhouse and one narrow winding line of a road, the place looked untouched. Seemingly outside of time, as the guidebook had said.