No Chance, No Way

"I don't know, Sam," I said, as I plopped my school lunch tray down at a table, across from the boy I was currently in conversation with, "there's something fishy about this guy Nick."

I stared down at my apple.

"I mean, how did he know where to find us? If my 'dad' knew I was in existence all these years, why didn't he help us? Personally, I think it's a very clever, not-to-mention bitchy scam."

We sat in silence for a while as we finished our food. Complete silence. Absolute, total silence. I stared at Sam, trying to send him a mental suggestion that he should say something.

He chugged down the rest of his chocolate milk, stood up, and threw away his trash. He came back to the table, picked up his bag, and said, "I need to show you something."

Well, alrighty then! We’re getting somewhere. I sprang up, tossed my tray in the trash bin, and followed Sam back into the main building. A couple of minutes later, we were in the library. Sam threw his backpack down beside a computer and quickly logged into his email. As he was searching through his drafts, I pulled up a chair beside him and made myself comfortable. When Sam had a point to prove, it took a while...

"Last night, when you called, I did some research and found this," Sam said, opening up a link that led to the website of the Reyland National Repertoire of Royal Information. "Of course, not every piece of info is on here due to security reasons, but there's some biographical information of every monarch since the 18th century."

I let out a disbelieving sigh.

"Wow Sam, you're more into this then I am," I teased, looking over at him. "Wait a minute... What'd you find, what's that smirk there for?"

He turned his attention back to the monitor and clicked the mouse a few times. It wasn't long before I was facing a screen that read in big, bold letters: Franc Isaac Monticello.My heart stopped. My mom was right... he was hot!

"From what you told me, according to this 'Nick' guy, your dad loved to party and was a history major. Look here," he said, pointing at the relevant information on the web page, "it checks. So it's not a scam, Em– you're a princess."

I don't feel like a princess.

"Well you are, so deal with it," Sam said, logging off of the computer.

…damn! I hate when I think out loud.

"Sam, should I... should I do this? I don't know if I can take it... it's so much, so fast!"

He looked at me, pointedly, and sighed. He threw his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him.

"Emilie darling, you're the one who was complaining about your life yesterday. How it was so boring, how nothing ever happens, et cetera. This is your instigator! Embrace it! Live it! Look, I gotta go," he said as the bell rang. When he hugged me goodbye, he whispered into my ear, “But whatever you do Emilie, just make me proud."

I smiled weakly and walked to my next class, History. Since I didn't really need to pay attention, I decided to spend my time wisely. I thought long and hard about this whole princess thing. By the end of the period, I had reached a conclusion.

I couldn't make Sam proud moping around New York about my boring, ghetto-ass life. So I'll go. I'll go and meet the King of Reyland, my grandfather. Sure, I was scared shitless... I mean, how was I supposed to be turned from a drab queen to an actual one? But then I reminded myself that it was what I had to do.

I mean, it's in my blood... right?

*************************
Stand up straight, shoulders back, chin up, and be sure to make eye contact...

Check. Check. Check. I'll be sure to do that.

I never thought I'd see the day when I'm actually following my mom's advice.

I let out a breath and walked into the Embassy. I made straight for the receptionist, figured out which floor Regent Rousseau was on, and headed towards the elevators with no delay.

I was on a mission. I had a goal and I was to meet my requirements before bed-time. If I chickened out, I would let down my parent(s), Sam, and myself. So as soon as that elevator hit the tenth floor, I walked out and down the proper hall to room 24B.

Outside the door, I paused and tried to slow down my breathing. Then, I mustered up courage and set out to accomplish my mission...

"I am ready to be princess-ified!" I declared, opening the door.

In front of me, Regent Nick Rousseau sat at his desk... and two other grown men were sitting opposite him. From the expressions on their faces, they were discussing something rather serious before I barged in, without knocking.

Damnit, Emilie.

“I’m so sorry, oh my God, I'll wait outside," I murmured as I slowly stepped backwards out of the room.

"No, it's quite alright deary. We're done here," said one of the men seated in the chairs across from Nick.

"You must be this Emilie Bailey we've heard so much about," said the other man. When I turned to look at him, I noticed he had a long scar running across his face, starting at the middle of his left eyebrow and ending at his jawbone. I was half-expecting him to say the f-word repeatedly in a Cuban accent.

"Yeah, that's me," I said with an excited wave of the hand. Before I could even extend my hand for him to introduce himself, he interjected.

"Yes,” he said, 'correcting' me.

…right. Note to self: purchase Kaplan’s Guide to Proper Royal Etiquette. There’s such a thing, right?

Suddenly, the men all stood up and began to shake hands. As they went to exit the room, the scar man turned around and said, "Remember our conversation, Nick. You know this won't last long, and when it ends, it won't end well."

With that, he closed the door behind him.

I rolled my eyes. He was obviously not talking about me with the way he eyed my dull gray t-shirt and my torn custom-faded jeans. I scrunched my nose and sat in the previously occupied chair across the desk from Mr.Rousseau.

"So you've made your decision then, Emilie?"

I nodded slowly. I was beginning to doubt my decision.

"No doubts or second thoughts?"

Had I been thinking out loud again? I shook my head 'no’ quickly to reaffirm myself.

"Well, good." He took a deep breath. "I will let King Louis know of your decision as soon as possible.

When he hears, he'll arrange for flights back to Reyland and your accommodations in the country. For now, talk to your mom about whether or not she will be accompanying you. Either way, I'll have King Louis arrange travel for two. So many preparations... tell you what, stop by tomorrow after school and we'll have a chat then."

"OK."

I stood up and bounced toward the door, beyond ready to leave. After all, my mission was accomplished. I had done what I set out to do. There was no need for me to stay around to chatsy with Regent Rousseau if I didn’t need to, because that man is incredibly hard to talk to. He's so... stiff.

"Emilie?"

I turned back, "Yes?"

"I'm proud of you. And uh- your father, he would be too. Trust me when I say that you won't regret this."

My smile faltered and I bit my lip. I nodded as an acknowledgement of his last statement and as a sort of farewell, and then I left the room. Over the course of my slow walk back to the bus stop, my smile grew. For some reason, making someone who didn't know me that well proud... that was an awesome feeling. Hell, it was an amazing feeling. I wish this feeling could stay forever.

***

"Emilie? What are you doing sleeping on the couch? What the- Emilie?"

I grumbled out of protest but got up nonetheless. I looked at the clock on the wall. It was 10:47 PM.

"I was waiting up for you..have to talk to you," I said incoherently, noticing the raspy quality of my sleepy voice. My mom, probably thinking that something was wrong, immediately sat down beside me.

"What is it, honey?"

"I'm a princess," I said with a very exhausted and borderline drunk 'duh' look on my face, "and I'mma go to Reyland. Are you coming with me?"

"Not that I'm aware of," she started, looking at me suspiciously.

I'm not on drugs, mother.

"Well, OK."

I stood up, stretched, and made my way to the comfort of my own bed. As soon as I collapsed on the comforter, I was fast asleep.