Status: Has been on Hiatus due to the huge rush of uni life, but now first year is over, I'm going to do my best to give you lovelies the ending you deserve! =)
Diary of a Reluctant Ruler
A Member of the Monarchy
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OK. So being a princess isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. What? You don’t believe me? Allow me to prove it;
1. You get mobbed by the paparazzi.
2. You have to be ladylike.
3. You have to marry a random soppy prince, who is probably too afraid to even lift the sword he got for his fifth birthday. Ugh.
4. You have to ride side-saddle.
5. You have to attend endless lessons on how to wave, which way to place your knife and fork after a meal, how to sit, fan language... This list is also endless...
Get the point yet? Good. Now let’s see. At this point, the queen mother, my gracious grandmother, *cough*dragon*cough*, would want me to introduce myself.
*overly enthusiatic*
Good evening, my good sir/ Madame! I don't believe we've been properly introduced, I am;
*chants in singsong voice*
Meredith Juliana Eleanor Isabella Rosamund Caramont, crown princess of Adria.
*stops chanting and enthusiasm*
Otherwise known as Phil.
You can really see where that came from...
Shut up.
No.
After turning 17 just a few days ago, my life has been caterpaulted into fast forward. Every crown princess of Adria has been married by 18 so far, and though it’s not an official rule, as the crown princess (meaning I get to be Queen) I’m under a lot of pressure to at least be in a steady relationship with a macho king-like guy.
Yay!
How can you be happy?
I just am!
No, really...
Some responsibility. I do not want to get married. Not unless I totally, and absolutely, wholeheartedly love the guy. And seeing as I’m a princess, I’m gonna, oops- going to have to marry a noble. That narrows down my choice a little. Actually, a lot. Even though the deadline isn’t official, it’s lingering over my head like a battle axe.
Allow me to introduce you to the two voices in my head... There’s the sardonic one, called Ella. I’ll put her in bold for you.
Hi.
And then there’s the happy, cheerful, rather stupid one, called Julie. Hmmm… she can be in italics.
I think you got us mixed up. Ella’s the stupid one.
Speak for yourself.
I do.
*Smacks head.*
Don’t ask me where they come from. I don’t quite know. They’re a part of me though, which is why they take on parts of my abnormally long name. God knows, I need to share it out. The reason why I’ve got such a long name is because my parents, the majestic King and Queen, couldn’t agree on what they wanted to call me. Which is also why I’m normally called Phil, because when they did name me, they found they didn’t like it that much anyway.
Anyway... So here begins my dairy for the 17th year of my life. The diary of a reluctant ruler.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
OK. So being a princess isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. What? You don’t believe me? Allow me to prove it;
1. You get mobbed by the paparazzi.
2. You have to be ladylike.
3. You have to marry a random soppy prince, who is probably too afraid to even lift the sword he got for his fifth birthday. Ugh.
4. You have to ride side-saddle.
5. You have to attend endless lessons on how to wave, which way to place your knife and fork after a meal, how to sit, fan language... This list is also endless...
Get the point yet? Good. Now let’s see. At this point, the queen mother, my gracious grandmother, *cough*dragon*cough*, would want me to introduce myself.
*overly enthusiatic*
Good evening, my good sir/ Madame! I don't believe we've been properly introduced, I am;
*chants in singsong voice*
Meredith Juliana Eleanor Isabella Rosamund Caramont, crown princess of Adria.
*stops chanting and enthusiasm*
Otherwise known as Phil.
You can really see where that came from...
Shut up.
No.
After turning 17 just a few days ago, my life has been caterpaulted into fast forward. Every crown princess of Adria has been married by 18 so far, and though it’s not an official rule, as the crown princess (meaning I get to be Queen) I’m under a lot of pressure to at least be in a steady relationship with a macho king-like guy.
Yay!
How can you be happy?
I just am!
No, really...
Some responsibility. I do not want to get married. Not unless I totally, and absolutely, wholeheartedly love the guy. And seeing as I’m a princess, I’m gonna, oops- going to have to marry a noble. That narrows down my choice a little. Actually, a lot. Even though the deadline isn’t official, it’s lingering over my head like a battle axe.
Allow me to introduce you to the two voices in my head... There’s the sardonic one, called Ella. I’ll put her in bold for you.
Hi.
And then there’s the happy, cheerful, rather stupid one, called Julie. Hmmm… she can be in italics.
I think you got us mixed up. Ella’s the stupid one.
Speak for yourself.
I do.
*Smacks head.*
Don’t ask me where they come from. I don’t quite know. They’re a part of me though, which is why they take on parts of my abnormally long name. God knows, I need to share it out. The reason why I’ve got such a long name is because my parents, the majestic King and Queen, couldn’t agree on what they wanted to call me. Which is also why I’m normally called Phil, because when they did name me, they found they didn’t like it that much anyway.
Anyway... So here begins my dairy for the 17th year of my life. The diary of a reluctant ruler.
♠ ♠ ♠
Kay. So this is definately cliched, but I don't care. It's been my guilty pleasure to write this on my computer for the past few years when I couldn't write anything else, so here you have it.Subscribe to stay alive! Comments are my addiction!
Ivy, xXGreyWingsXx (c) 2008