Royal Genovian Palace
Well, that did not go well.
Or I guess the problem is that it went too well.
Because my sister loved the RGA’s performance of “All Roads Lead to Genovia.”
She loved it so much that she’s invited all the students (and teachers) at the RGA to her wedding reception, where she says she “really, really hopes” we’ll perform “All Roads Lead to Genovia” again, because it is now her favorite song.
Madame Alain says this is a “huge honor.”
Frankly, I don’t agree.
Not that I don’t think my sister really, really enjoyed our performance. I know she did. When I came up to her afterward, she was crying because she was so moved.
“Oh no,” I cried. “What’s wrong?” I thought maybe she’d shut her finger in a door or something. The doors at the RGA are very old and heavy, just like the ones in the palace. It would be easy to smash your finger in one.
But that wasn’t it at all. Mia grabbed and hugged me and said, “That was the funniest—I mean, best—thing I’ve ever seen in my life! You guys were so, so good.”
And then I saw that she was laughing! So was Michael.
Both of them were laughing so hard that they were crying.
I don’t know what about our performance made them laugh—“All Roads Lead to Genovia” is quite a serious song. It isn’t supposed to be funny.
But I guess it’s good that they enjoyed it, especially since it was their wedding gift.
Only now I have to sing it—and dance it—again. And everyone I know at school is going to be at my house … just like Dad said was going to happen!
Including Gunther.
And I know it’s a very big house (a palace, actually) with a lot of rooms in which I can hide from him if I have to. But I wasn’t planning on having to hide from him at all, especially at my sister’s wedding. I was planning on having a good time!
Even worse, Luisa pointed out just now that Gunther could ask me to dance with him.
“And not promenade Genovian-style, either, Olivia,” she teased, “but slow dance in the moonlight in the royal gardens.”
“Ooooh,” Victorine and Marguerite said. Then they burst out laughing.
I really don’t see what’s so funny about any of this, even though I’m a Sagittarius and we’re supposed to see the bright side of things.
But I guess I don’t have a choice. We’re in the gardens right now, having aromatic salt rubs done on our hands and feet, and our finger- and toenails painted blush pink. Obviously, I wanted to get mine done bright yellow with purple sparkle polka dots, but we have to get what Paolo, the style consultant, says.
And he says we’re all getting blush pink, so we’ll match tomorrow on television.
We’re each getting different hairstyles, though, with flower arrangements in our curls. “Because every woman is unique,” Paolo says. “Like the flower.”
I like this idea. I wonder what kind of flower I am. I think I’m a daisy. Daisies are cheerful but reliable.
I’m not saying anything to my sister about how inviting my entire school to her wedding may not have been the best idea (even though I don’t think it was) because Mia is in the first really good mood I’ve seen her in all week, and I don’t want to add to her stress.
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:
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.