Diary of a Reluctant Ruler

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Friday saw a last-ditch attempt to entertain our Lorainian guests before they left, Queen Katherine and King Sebastian travelling with Mum and Dad into Rous to the end of an arts festival being held in honour of their visit. Philippe, Nick, Jade, James and I rode out to the beach the same evening, accompanied by Felix and Maria, who brought Marie with them, because Felix should have been in a French lesson.

Saturday, Grandmother managed to nab both myself and Mum, drawing us into the depths of her suite, where an uncountable number of people did questionable things to hair and nails and faces. Though I found myself tossed out a little less gently than the average handling of a porcelain doll that was certainly how fragile I felt as I avoided touching things in order to protect my newly furnished nail beds.

I sound like such a sissy…

I feel pretty, and flirty, and free!!

Those aren’t the lyrics you know.

I was improvising, duh.

My dress was out ready, unwrapped from its multiple layers of tissue, on my bed when I came in. I smiled, and felt suddenly a little hyper. I went down to the kitchen, and attempted to eat a sandwich made by the lovely Madeleine without spoiling my new face. Then, back upstairs, I brushed my teeth, tucked a few loose hairs back into their neat up-do, and got changed.

I swept around a little, enjoying the feel of the dress against my legs.

I was early, and couldn’t turn up in the Ballroom for another 15 minutes. In fear of creasing my dress, I didn’t sit down. Instead, I picked up my book and read standing. A quiet knock came at my door.

“Come in,” I called.

“Hey, Phil, I just wanted to ask you-”

James stopped, mouth half formed on his next word, holding a tie in each hand, one deep blue, the other medium red.

A little smile turned my mouth up at the edges when I realised that he was gob-smacked, by me.

The painted-on me, mind you.

Still counts as me.

“You like it?” I asked, giving a little turn.

“It’s gorgeous,” he managed.

“Thank you,” I replied.

“I was going to ask you, but… I’ve decided I like red,” he motioned towards the left-hand tie.

“Oh, okay,” I said.

I decided not to question the sudden switch from his favourite colour, which was dark blue, to the colour of my dress, which was a middling red, neither dark nor bright.

“I’ll, um… see you downstairs. Save me a dance, ok?”

“Sure thing,” I smiled.

He backed out, still looking a little bit surprised at my sudden transformation.

I laughed at myself in the mirror, and walked into my closet to find some jewellery. I’d settled on some simple diamond earrings and a pendant when Grandmother entered, followed by an entourage carrying what appeared to be the entire set of crown jewels.

“Oh,” was the first word to pop out of my mouth, “Is it a crown affair then?”

“It is indeed,” Grandmother motioned to the boxes, “By your dress… I’d guess the Princess Royal’s Crown would work best.”

An attendant skilfully selected the right box and opened it for Grandmother to take out. I’d worn several of the tiaras before, but never one of the actual crowns. I gasped as she lifted it out. Even compared to the other jewels our family owned, this was rather spectacular. Clusters of diamonds covered every possible surface in twisting paths, following elegantly thin metalwork which twisted in short spearheads spaced every two inches, interceded by smaller clusters.

Holy crow.

Holy Joe.

Grandma smiled, and placed it carefully on my head.

It was heavy, but not too much so; some of the royal jewels I’d worn in portrait sittings were at least 5 kilograms worth of gold.

Grandma passed over one box to another, searching for something specific, then opened another box, containing a diamond necklace and matching earrings which she handed reverently to me.

“A loan for this evening,” she said, “Try not to loose any.”

“I’m not making any promises,” I breathed, “They might mysteriously vanish…”

“I should hope not,” Grandma warned.

I smiled at her, then caught sight of myself in the mirror.

Good grief!

No way is that me.

I look pretty!!!

The mirror must be warped or something…

I scratched my neck absently and the figure in the glass did the same.

“Here’s your dance card,” Grandma said, passing another piece of stiff cartridge paper to me.

I’d kept the other, which now sat on the side of my bedside table.

“You have the first part of the evening free tonight, and we’ll be closing the ball with you and Prince Nicholai,” she explained, “I need not remind you to speak to everyone possible?”

“No Madame,” I sighed.

“Good,” she said, sweeping out, entourage trailing haphazardly with their numerous boxes.

“Good,” I repeated to myself in the mirror.

I poked my face to see if it was real. Oddly, it was.

Downstairs, William announced me, and I curtsied to Queen Catherine and my mother, who, as joint hostesses, were standing near the door to greet guests. The dance was already in full-flow, with Grandma dancing with Dad, King Sebastian with Maria, Prince Nick with Lady Georgiana, Felix with a woman who seemed vaguely familiar. Two heads higher than him though!!! And a little old for him.

Yeesh, he’s only eight…

Young people these days…

You sound like Professor Simmons from Economics.

“Care to dance?” asked a soft voice in my ear.

I bit my lip and held out my hand for James to take. His gloved hand was cool in mine. He was completely suited out, in jacket, waistcoat, tie, trousers, everything…

Well, you’d hope he was wearing trousers…

Depends on the situation.

Ew!

Sadly, the suit changed nothing about his dancing.

“You really should have stayed the other day,” I told him.

“When?”

“When you walked in on Mme Vennart teaching me and Philippe,” I explained, “You could really use some lessons.”

“Not from her,” he gulped.

“No, maybe not from her,” I agreed.

“Has she… er, well… you know the expression, is that…”

“It’s natural,” I laughed, “I used to think she really disliked me.”

“Oh,” he said, “So it wasn’t just me being in the room?”

“No. Ow!”

I winced as James stepped on my toe.

“Sorry, sorry!” he cried.

“It’s ok,” I moaned, “Though please, take some dance lessons!”

“It’s on my to-do list,” he said.

“You have a to-do list?”

“Who doesn’t?” he asked.

“I don’t.”

“But what about all the things you’ve never done?” he asked.

“What, like… been on public transport?” I pondered.

“What?!” he yelled, nearly deafening a nearby politician, “Sorry.”

He bobbed his head towards the politician who raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve never been on public transport?!” he whispered.

“No,” I frowned, “I’m a princess…”

“Oh,” he blinked, “You know, that seems to be a major impediment for you.”

“Hmmm…” I sighed.

“Make me a list,” he commanded.

“A list of what?” I asked.

“A list of everything you’ve never done.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because then we can start correcting things,” he explained.

“But I might not want to go on public transport,” I complained, “With all the people and the litter and it’s sure to smell!”

“Snob much?” James asked, attempting to twirl me round.

I grimaced at him.

“Trust me, just make a list,” he pleaded.

“Fine, I’ll make a list.”

“Yes!” he cried.

“But I’m not doing anything weird…”

“Like?”

“Like… drinking bleach.”

“Why would you drink bleach?”

“Well, because you just said…”

“I didn’t mean dangerous stuff!”

“Oh, ok…”

The music finished, and we clapped, before moving off to one side.

“Anything we can correct this evening?” James asked.

“Er-”

“May I have this dance?” a young man in navy uniform gave me a bow.

“Certainly,” I smiled half-heartedly.

The young man smiled back, and snapped another bow before taking my hand.

“I’ve never been to a dance I didn’t dance at,” I called back over my shoulder.

“Too late!” James laughed.

The music for the intro finished and we began to dance; salsa.

“Lieutenant John Macready,” the young man introduced himself.

“Nice to meet you,” I replied.

Partners were in an annoyingly never-ending supply, and I’d danced with at least ten people before I managed to get myself off the floor to find James again. I caught sight of him across the room, but before I could wave I saw Philippe go over to him. They talked hurriedly for a second, then James grabbed Philippe’s arm and dragged him out onto the terrace.

What’s he doing?

*dons spy sunglasses* I don’t know, but I’m gonna find out.

Intrigued, I began to cross the floor to follow them, but was accosted by Nick, who smiled in an odd fixed manner, and asked me to dance. He took my hand without my reply and led onto the floor.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to dance until the end?” I asked.

“Well, I’m sure we’re allowed to dance twice,” Nick replied, looking at something over my shoulder.

“Grandmother might have something to say about it,” I replied.

We’d turned full circle and I saw, where Nick had been looking before, James and Philippe coming back in from the terrace. I wondered what they’d been talking about, and whether Nick had known something about it in order to waylay me.

Secret Phil-can’t-hear-them things obviously.

You have a beautiful way with words, my dear.

Aw, thanks… was that sarcastic?

No, of course not.

Oh, okay.

“Meredith!” Grandmother accosted me as I came off the floor, “You shouldn’t have danced with Nick already!”

“Sorry Madame, but he asked me. I thought it impolite to decline,” I replied.

“Well…” Grandma muttered, “The boy clearly has had no etiquette training whatsoever.”

I doubt any etiquette training could be as rigorous as Grandma’s.

“No, you did the right thing, Meredith,” she continued, “But dance with some more dignitaries before you repeat any former engagements please.”

“Yes Madame,” I nodded.

I started a tour of the room, conversing generally and dancing with anyone who asked. Another one of grandmother’s rules was to never propose a dance; that was apparently a man’s job. Part way through a killer conversation with the Duchess of Forney about her corgi’s indigestion problems, Nick tapped me on the shoulder for the final dance. Relieved, I followed him onto the floor.