I wish my hands would stop shaking. Outside the window, the reporters and cameras are closing in on us. In the car, Henri is practically quivering with rage. There’s no escape.
“Would you care to explain this, Your Royal Highness?”
“Shouldn’t we get out of here?” I ask, hoping to put off the moment of reckoning a little longer.
“I’ll drive. You talk.” He pulls away from the school and artfully avoids the reporters and news vans and middle school kids standing with their mouths agape taking it all in. “Talk.”
“I didn’t want people to think we were dead or had abandoned them.” That seems self-evident.
“Wasn’t it made clear to you that you are in hiding? Does this look like hiding?”
“It’s not like I told anyone where we are,” I say.
“You didn’t have to. Your phone did that for you.”
Wait. What? Suddenly I feel a little light-headed.
“My phone did what?”
“It geo-tagged your video.”
“Oh. I didn’t know it could do that.”
“It can do that.”
I glance behind us at the trailing news vans. So, that’s where they came from. They saw my video.
We get to the condo, and there are even more news vans there. Henri pulls up close to the door. “You don’t have to talk to them,” he says. “I will get you inside safely.”
But wait, the news reporters have found us. There’s not much point in pretending they haven’t. And reporters can be our friends. I wanted to get the word out with my video that the royal family has not abandoned Colsteinburg and that there is a reason to fight for our familiar way of life. Well, a feature with a major news organization is even better than a fifteen-second video.
“I’m going to talk to them,” I say.
“You are not,” Henri responds, putting the car in park.
“I am.” I hop out of the car, and immediately a woman with a microphone sticks it in front of my face. A man with a TV camera stands a little behind her, the red light on the camera plainly showing that he is recording. Georgie and I aren’t exactly novices when it comes to dealing with the media. After all, we are the princesses of Colsteinburg. We are on TV at least once a month, though usually in a more controlled environment. I’m somewhat reassured that Henri is here.
“Princess Fredericka?”
“Yes,” I say, hoping she can’t see my shaking hands.
The door to the condo opens, and I half expect Henri to bodily pick me up and drag me inside. Instead, I find that Georgie is standing next to me.
“Princess Georgiana?” The woman asks, thrusting the microphone in Georgie’s face.
Georgie puts on her practiced public smile. She is unflappable.
“Yes?” She answers, as sweetly as if an old woman had asked her to help pick up her dropped groceries or something.
“It really is you?” The woman seems surprised that she has it right.
“Of course,” Georgie says, the smile not leaving her face. I notice it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Why aren’t you in Colsteinburg?” the reporter asks.
Georgie and I exchange a quick look.
“Your Royal Highnesses, please come inside,” Henri says, frustration evident in his voice.
Georgie nods, but then answers the question anyway. “Our father thought that, under the circumstances, we should be somewhere else for the time being. I’m sure you can agree that was a prudent move.”
“And what is your opinion on what is happening in your home country?”
“I think you’d be better off asking policy questions from someone other than a couple of teenagers,” Georgie answers, the smile never wavering.
“And where is your mother, Queen Cassandra?” the reporter asks.
For the first time, Georgie falters somewhat. Do we tell them Mam is here with us or not? Which looks better, that Mam stayed with us or with the country?
“She’s inside,” I say, making a split-second decision. “Of course. We’re kids, our parents wouldn’t send us out on our own. But she’s got a sick headache today. Please just leave her be.”
“Why are you here under assumed names?”
I think I’m pretty much done answering questions.
“Assumed names?” Georgie affects a look of innocent confusion.
“Your sister is registered in school as Fritzi Moore.”
Boy, they really have been digging around.
“But that’s my name,” I say and force a light laugh. “Why do you think it’s an alias?”
“Your name is Fredericka Elisabetta Teresa von Boden don Mohr of Colsteinburg,” the reporter pronounces carefully.
“Right,” I say. “Fritzi Moore. The longer version wouldn’t fit on the forms.”
The cameraman laughs, and even the reporter smiles a bit.
“Why didn’t King Frederick announce where you and your sister were?”
“That is something you’ll have to ask him,” Georgie says. Her façade is starting to crack.
“If you’ll excuse us, we need to go.” And with that, she takes me by the hand as if I’m a three-year-old and pulls me inside. Henri shuts and locks the door behind us.
Mam is sitting on the sofa, a throw pillow clutched tight in her hands. She looks alarmingly pale. Georgie, on the other hand, who a second ago was my ally, turns on me, high color in her cheeks.
“How could you?” she demands.
“I …”
“You put us all in danger.”
“I …”
“You jeopardized everything Pap is doing to fix things.”
“And what is he doing?” I find the gumption to fight back. “There’s nothing about him in the news. He’s giving no speeches, making no pleas. We don’t even know if he’s okay. Why shouldn’t I do something to help?”
“And you think this will help?” Mam’s voice is hard, and it startles me.
This is not the time to back down. What’s done is done. I stand taller, throwing my shoulders back and trying to appear confident, even though I’m not.
“I do.”
“Why?” Georgie asks.
I take a deep breath. If they would give me a chance to explain, maybe I could convince them.
“Soda commercials,” I say, which maybe isn’t the clearest way to begin.
“What?” All three of them look at me like I’m crazy.
“TV commercials make people love their products. Like soda. Everyone loves soda.”
“Except maybe people who want to be healthy,” Georgie says and gives me a small smile. Maybe she isn’t as mad at me as I thought.
“Almost everyone, then,” I say. “Anyway, how do they convince everyone to like their particular brand of soda? There are ads that show everyone being happy and loving and topping it off with their drink. So I thought I’d do the the same thing and be happy and loving and they would think happy thoughts and want us back.”
Henri bursts out laughing.
I don’t think it’s funny; I still think it’s a brilliant idea.
The tension is broken, and Georgie says, “There’s a certain logic there. But why didn’t you come to us? We could have at least showed you how to turn off the geo-tagging.”
“You were too sad about Etienne,” I say. “And I didn’t even know geo-tagging was a thing.”
“They found us,” Mam says, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” I say. “If you’re worried about us being hurt, we’re probably safer if the whole world knows where we are and is watching. Who’s going to hurt us if a TV camera is filming?”
Mam stands up, and for the first time since we’ve left home, she almost looks regal. “Someone who wants the world to know you’ve been hurt.” She sweeps past me and up the stairs.
My mouth goes dry.
“Why would someone want the world to know that?” I ask Georgie.
She has her arms crossed in front of her, and her face is ashen.
“I don’t know.”
That does not make me feel any better. Georgie is supposed to have the answers.
“No one will hurt you,” Henri assures us.
I curl up on the sofa and try to figure this out. How would it help anyone if people knew they had hurt us? Would it make someone like them more? Of course not; Georgie and I are innocent girls. No one wants to see us hurt. People might want a different government, but I can’t believe they’d really want to see something bad happen to the royal family. Visions of the execution of the Romanov family over a hundred years ago flash through my mind. But that was a long time ago, and things were different then. And for what it’s worth, the Romanov murderers didn’t exactly go public with the information. No. We are definitely safer if the TV cameras are following us around than if they aren’t.
I check my phone to see how many views my video has gotten since I’d been at school. My video has thousands of views and has been reposted all over the place. There are tons of positive comments. Some negative ones too, to be sure, but I won’t let myself focus on those right now.
“We need to make another video,” I say when Henri has gone into the kitchen and left us alone.
“I don’t think so,” Georgie says. “Look how much trouble one video caused.”
“But that’s because it let them find us. They already found us. So what’s the harm? Besides, you need be in one with me.”
She shakes her head, but this is one time I know what I’m talking about.
“What this fight needs is more positive publicity.”
Georgie raises one eyebrow and waits for me to continue, looking at me over the rising steam in her cup.
“Our side is not getting the word out. But we can,” I say. “People liked my video yesterday. People are talking about it.”
“And what would you say in your next video?” Georgie challenges me.
“We tell people where we are.”
Georgie frowns.
I point out the window. “They’ve figured it out already, but if we make a video, announcing it, then we can’t be portrayed as hiding anything.”
“Maybe,” Georgie says, drawing out the word like she’s not really convinced yet.
“You’re next in line for the throne. People have to know you haven’t abandoned them. It’s very important.” I pause, and she doesn’t say no, so I’m going to assume that she’ll do it.
“Should I turn off the geo-tagging?” I ask as I get out my phone.
“Doesn’t really matter at this point,” Georgie says, “if we’re going to tell them where we are anyway. And I know just what to say.”
I smile. I like being a team with Georgie.
We sit on the sofa, and I hold the phone out at arm’s length and start the video.
“Hallo!” I start like I did last time. “Prinzessin Fredericka here.”
“And Prinzessin Georgiana,” Georgie adds. “We are in Boston,” she says. “We came for the chowder, which is so good we thought we would stay awhile. But we’ll be home soon. We love you all and miss you!”
“Prost!” I say and end the video.
“That’s all there is to it?” Georgie asks.
“Short and sweet, that’s my theory. More people are apt to watch it if it’s short.”
I upload it, share it, and cross my fingers that this all works out like we hope.