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).
All the girls want to take selfies with Rocky, even the high school girls. Queen Amina called him “adorable” and lifted him up high into the air.
And Rocky doesn’t even mind! I can tell because he hasn’t mentioned farting or dinosaurs once (although this might be because he’s shifted his full attention to iguanas now instead).
The only person who seemed to mind was Luisa.
“Disgusting. He isn’t even royal!” I heard her mutter.
This made me mad, but I didn’t say anything because I’m trying to be more understanding and tolerant of Luisa now that I know about her parents. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since becoming a princess, it’s that being gracious and kind to others who are less fortunate than you is important. And usually your kindness will be returned in the form of others being kind to you—like Prince Khalil helping with the iguana problem at the palace.
So maybe the mean, bossy snobs like Luisa will get the message and start trying to be more like the person I aspire to be.
Although I’m not sure how well this plan is working. Luisa doesn’t even seem to have noticed how kind I am to everyone, let alone that I’m being kind to her.
And I think I might have been a little too kind to Prince Gunther. No matter how many times I tell him we’re just friends, he still thinks there’s a chance I might change my mind and visit him in Stockerdörfl.
“Lederhosen are what we normally wear there,” he told me while Victorine was making us pose together for a photo. “For relaxation and for sport. That is why I am so relaxed in them. When you come to visit me this summer, Princess Olivia, you’ll see.”
Uggghhhh!
Victorine thought this was very funny. She and Marguerite think Prince Gunther looks “very hot” in his lederhosen.
Luisa says Prince Khalil looks hotter. I said it’s not a contest. It’s important for princesses to be diplomatic.
But I was lying. Of course Prince Khalil looks hotter! Prince Khalil is definitely the cutest boy in the sixth grade. (Not that I like him. I’m only saying that from an artist’s point of view, Prince Khalil is better looking than Prince Gunther. And of course Prince Khalil doesn’t have green hair.)
So it would be very nice if Prince Gunther (and my cousin Luisa) would stop embarrassing me in front of him.
I still don’t want to hurt Prince Gunther’s feelings or anything, but there is no way I’m going to Stockerdörfl over the summer to visit him.
So in response to his invitation (the third time he’s asked me), I said, “I don’t know, Prince Gunther. My sister is leaving for her honeymoon, and she asked me to take care of her cat, Fat Louie, while she’s away. She’s going to be gone for a very long time … two weeks.”
“Oh,” he said. “Well, when she gets back, then—”
“Yes, but then she’s going to have her formal coronation, accepting the throne from my dad. It’s a whole big thing, and obviously I have to be here for that.”
“Of course,” he said. “But then after that—”
“Well, after that, she’s having twins, and I’m probably going to have to help her take care of them and run the country while she’s on maternity leave and stuff. It might be very hard for me to get away. Maybe we can write instead.”
He looked kind of surprised, but in a good way.
“Write? Like letters? I love to write letters! I’m very good at writing letters. And texting. Maybe we can do both!”
So now I’m going to have to write letters (and texts) with Prince Gunther over summer break.
But I don’t mind. It’s better than going to visit him.
“Great,” I said. “Well, good-bye.” I held out my hand.
“Good-bye?” He looked surprised again, but this time not in a good way. “Why good-bye?”
“Because after the performance, I’m probably going to have to leave in a rush,” I said, “to go home to start getting ready for my sister’s wedding. So we should just say good-bye now.”
“Oh,” he said, and shook my hand. Fortunately, since I’d given him my lecture about being more careful with his flexing, he didn’t crush my fingers into tiny sausages. “Auf Wiedersehen, Your Highness.”
“Auf Wiedersehen,” I said.
PHEW. I’m glad that’s over. Especially since the motorcade is here! Can’t wait to get finished with this performance so I can:
• Go home and have mani-pedis with Nishi and my sister
• Be done with the Royal Genovian Academy for the whole summer
• Finally get out of this stupid costume
• Never sing “All Roads Lead to Genovia” again
• Never, ever dance with Prince Gunther again
• Or even see him again until September
YAY!!!!!