The weekend passes uneventfully, which I guess is good. At least I have some homework to keep me occupied. I never thought I’d think homework was a good thing—this is the level we’ve been brought down to.
Monday morning, Georgie puts a bologna sandwich and a bottle of water in a brown paper bag for me.
“Can’t I have a different kind of sandwich?” I ask.
Georgie leans against the counter, arms crossed. She looks tired. “It’s what we’ve got. I’ll see if Henri can take me to the store later and get something else. But for right now, just deal with it, okay?”
“I wish we were home,” I say.
“I do too,” Georgie admits.
The defeated way she says it doesn’t make me feel much better.
I finish my cereal and put the bowl in the dishwasher. Henri is in the doorway, ready to escort me to school.
School. The last place I feel like being today.
“You better get going,” Georgie says. “I’ll see you later.”
I’m so preoccupied with thinking of ways I can help Pap save the kingdom that in Spanish class, I answer all the questions in French, which amuses Jasmine to no end but annoys Señora Sanchez.
At lunchtime, I’m not in the mood for a battle of wills with Jasmine, so I sit with Bethany and her friends.
“So, the princess has decided to grace us with her presence?” Miles asks, a touch of a sneer in his voice.
“What?” I nearly drop my lunch. How did they find out? Did Bethany go looking for that picture and figure out who we really are?
“He just means since you’ve been sitting with Jasmine and company, he figured you were too good to sit with us,” Bethany clarifies.
“Oh.” I sit down, willing my heartbeat to return to normal.
“Why aren’t you sitting with the A Team today?” Kim asks. “Didn’t they want you?”
What have I done to earn this animosity from people I thought liked me?
“I thought it would be nice to sit with people who might actually talk to me. But I can go someplace else if that’s a problem.”
“You won’t let Jasmine scare you off, but you’ll let Kim chase you away? No one is afraid of Kim,” Miles says, opening a bag of chips.
“It’s true,” Kim says. “No one is afraid of me. People usually don’t even apologize if they bump into me. I think sometimes they don’t even see me.”
I have never felt invisible. People always knew who I was and where I was and were quick to pay attention to me when I entered the room. After all, I am Princess Fredericka, and something like that gets you noticed. But now, people don’t know me, don’t care who I am or what I am doing. I have more in common with Kim than I would have thought possible.
I pull out my bologna sandwich and sigh. I want the lunches that our cook prepared, with hot soup and fresh bread. Even the lunches in the dining hall at Sainte Marie’s were much more exciting than my bologna on white bread. If we have to stay in exile for long, I might starve.
“You finally saw the error of your ways?” Jasmine stands over me, an evil little smile on her face. “Went to the loser table, where you belong?”
“No, I simply decided I didn’t want to sit with you anymore. You bore me.” I go back to my even more boring sandwich, pretending I am super interested in it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Jasmine turning red and spluttering. “I bore you!” She can barely get the words out. “You’re like the queen of boring.”
My back stiffens at that, but I say nothing.
“And you don’t even have a good lunch. How disgusting. What is that? Some weird meat on white bread?”
I frown. While I totally agree with her, I can’t let her know that.
“Surely you’ve heard of bologna, haven’t you? It’s a royal meat first instituted by the Duke of Bologna in the Middle Ages. It’s been a staple of the Italian royal family ever since then.” I am totally making all that up.
“Well,” she says, suddenly a little unsure of herself. “It still looks disgusting.”
“Ja, a little,” I admit. “But a girl’s got to eat.”
Jasmine doesn’t respond to that but heads to her favored table. Tomorrow, I’ll probably sit there again, just to mess with her.
Kim, Miles, and Bethany are all staring at me.
“What?” Do I have ketchup on my chin or something?
“How did you do that?” Kim asks, her eyes wide.
“What?”
“Leave Jasmine speechless. No one does that.” Awe is apparent in her voice.
“And that bit about bologna, that was pure baloney,” Miles says.
“Ja, I know.”
“It’s not from Italy,” Miles continues. “It’s as American as you or I.”
“Actually, it is from Italy,” I say, “and I’m—” I stop myself. It’s better if they think I’m American. That is one way of hiding our true identities, right? “Anyway, I bet she’ll want bologna now, so she can be like Italian royalty.”
“Well, like I told you, she already thinks she’s a princess,” Bethany says.
Jasmine and I have that much in common anyway. I concentrate on my sandwich, and soon lunch is over.
In English class, we go back to the media center again to work on our projects. Bethany sits next to me, and I try not to show that I’d rather be alone. Alienating my only friend is not a good plan.
My heart aches as I look up information about my country. Every picture I see, every comment I read, reminds me that I am a world away and helpless to do anything.
I should have chosen another topic for my research paper. Something that wouldn’t make my stomach hurt when I researched it. Something like Koalas Are the Cutest Animals or Why Does Soda Taste So Good.
Across the room, Jasmine and her friends break into giggles. I look, sure they are laughing at me. It seems to be the way Jasmine operates. But I can see Jasmine’s computer screen, and it appears they are watching videos. They aren’t laughing at me after all.
“They’re going to get in trouble,” Bethany whispers to me. “They are supposed to be doing research, not watching videos.”
I don’t really care if they get in trouble. In fact, I would rather enjoy it, but a thought is beginning to form in my head. I need to get the word out that the royal family is alive and well and that we intend to stay the royal family. I can’t go back to Colsteinburg to tell people in person. I was able to be convincing about bologna, and that wasn’t even true. How much more convincing could I be for something that I really care about?
Everyone is afraid that the opposition will try to use us to help them. Why not beat them to it? I will make a video convincing the people of Colsteinburg not to follow Orcutt.
The solution is so simple; why didn’t I think of it before?
I can’t wait for the school day to end so I can go back to the condo and put my plan into action. Finally, there is something I can do to help Pap.
When the last bell finally rings and I go outside, it’s not Georgie waiting for me, but Henri.
“Is that your father?” Bethany asks. I didn’t even realize she was at my elbow until she spoke.
“No,” I say.
“Stepfather?” she persists.
“Um, no.” There is really no good way to explain who Henri is without giving away who we are. I wish Bethany wouldn’t ask so many questions.
“But he is here to pick you up, right? I mean, he’s waving to you.”
“Yes, he’s here for me,” I say.
“It’s not like you’re meeting some stranger off the internet or anything, are you?” Bethany asks. “That can be really dangerous.”
“He’s not a stranger.” I sigh. How easy it would be just to say he’s in charge of my mother, the queen’s, security. But I’m not supposed to tell anyone who we are. “It’s fine. I have to go.”
“I hope you don’t mind walking,” Henri says. “It’s a beautiful day. I thought the exercise would be good.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I don’t care if we walk or drive a car or ride camels. I only want to know one thing. “Where’s Georgie?”
“She did not feel up to going out in public this afternoon.”
That’s not like Georgie. “What happened?” Did the stress finally get to her? Is she going to get lost inside herself like Mam? What will I do?
“Something to do with Prince Etienne, I believe,” Henri says, his voice low so as to not be overheard.
“You have to tell me,” I insist. He does, once we are closer to the townhouse and away from curious ears.
“Princess Georgiana saw a picture of Etienne with a French model. The caption said that he had moved on.”
Poor Georgie! I practically run the rest of the way home so I can get to her and comfort her.
I find her in our bedroom, lying on her back, staring at the ceiling.
“Henri told me,” I say. “I’m sure it’s just a big misunderstanding.” I sit on the edge of the bed. “Have you contacted him?”
“How can I contact him when we’re not supposed to let anyone know where we are?”
“You don’t have to tell him where we are,” I say. “I didn’t tell Sophia when I texted her.”
Georgie sits up so suddenly I jump. “You texted Sophia?” The horror in her voice makes me think that maybe that wasn’t a good plan.
“Yes?” I try to make myself small. It seemed like such a good idea at the time.
“Why?” Georgie demands.
“I thought we could work together to convince her father he’s wrong, and then everything could get back to normal.”
“How could you be so foolish?”
That’s not fair. I stand up.
“Now, wait a minute. I was trying to help. No one else seems to be doing anything. Besides, we’re not supposed to be talking about me but about how you can fix things with Etienne.”
Georgie doesn’t say anything right away, so I continue. “Besides, nothing horrible happened when I texted Sophia. I’m sure it’s fine to send Etienne a message.”
She shakes her head and lies back down on the bed. “Just let me be, please.”
It seems like the best course of action.
I go down to the kitchen and get myself a soda. Mam is sitting on the sofa, a cup of coffee in front of her. The TV is off.
“Nothing good on TV?” I ask.
“It’s all the same. It gets tedious after a while.”
It’s refreshing that she’s realized it. Maybe that means she’ll start being Mam again.
“You’re used to being busy,” I say. “You need to find something to keep you busy.”
“There is nothing,” Mam says. “We can only sit here, aimlessly, waiting.”
I can’t. I can’t just sit here. “I’m going outside,” I say.
“Take Henri with you,” Mam says.
“I’m just going outside,” I say. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”
I take my soda out to the front steps, where I try to figure out the next part of my plan.