Diary of a Reluctant Ruler

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“James, hurry up!” Olly yelled, sitting down carefully so as not to crease her dress. I stood, knowing if I sat I would either; never stand up again, rip my dress or crease it so badly it looked like I was wearing a white bin liner.

Hmmm... Bin liner. Could be the next fad.

Were you born mentally disturbed?

*Sulks... Mouth drops.*

Huh, what? Ooooh. Oh.

James had finally come out, and let’s just say that a tailored suit can sometimes be the death of you.

“Wow, Phil you look great,” he said, and my heart made a suicidal jump into my mouth.

“Thanks,” I answered, beginning to blush.

“All right, let’s go,” Olly was impatiently standing by the door.

“Mademoiselle?” James offered me his arm, “I was right, much easier when you’re not on a horse.”

For the third time since James had arrived, I giggled.

Aaarrggh!

He’s so pretty...

James took Olly’s arm as well, and we set off down the corridor to the ballroom, which was where the dinner was being held. I wondered whether I’d have to make a speech. Dear god, I hope not. We stopped in front of the door, where a footman stood in his uniform.

“Your highness, Mr. and Miss Jacinthe, should I announce you entry?” He asked, bowing slightly.

“If you would,” I answered in what my mother deemed my ‘princess voice’. She said the entire royal family had a different voice for authority. Grandmother seemed to wear hers all the time.

Speak of the devil.

“William, the princess will be announced separately,” Grandmother ordered, taking me to the side, “You may announce the Earl and Lady now.”

Gosh, I’d forgotten Olly was a Lady.

He’s an earl....

The doors were flung open in front of us, the rich light of the chandeliers spilling through them onto James and Olly.

“His Royal Highness the Earl of Aramathia, and Lady Olivia Jacinthe!” Boomed the doorman, preceded and followed by two bangs of the cane he held. I blinked a little at the volume of his voice. You know, I’d never realised it before, but James and Olivia are both royal. Well, not by blood, because the lordship was given to their father as a reward for services to the actual royal family. But they had the whole “his royal highness” thing going on. It made Olly and James seem more on even terms with me. It felt nice.

“Meredith,” Grandmother snapped, “You weren't about to go in there with the Earl were you?”

“Yes, Madame. I did not realise-”

“You did not realise? If entering an event dedicated to you, you enter alone! Have I taught you nothing? How would it look if you went in there with the Earl?”

“James? But-”

“But nothing, young lady. The press would have immediately assumed a romantic connection,” Grandmother sniffed, “Oh well, you look decent. Although that was probably all Lady Olivia’s doing. At least some good will come of her being here.”

Grandmother tweaked my hair, pushed my back up straight, shoulders back, chin-up. I felt like a puppet on a string.

“Smile,” she commanded. I obeyed, “Brush your teeth.”

Out of nowhere she gave me a toothbrush, and toothpaste. I blinked, then brushed, careful not to get toothpaste on my dress. I noticed the footman trying not to laugh behind grandmother. I spat and rinsed with the glass of water grandmother also brought out of nowhere, then wiped my mouth with the towel.

“Right, posture! Make sure you speak to the ambassador from Lorainya,” Grandmother inspected me again, “William, you may announce the Princess.”

“Her Royal Highness the Crown Princess Meredith!”

Bang, bang went William’s stick on the marble flooring. God, I hate that title, it’s almost as long as my name. Can you imagine anyone calling me them both together?

Her Royal Highness the Crown Princess Meredith Juliana Eleanor Isabella Rosamund Caramont.

Has a certain ring to it…

Oh god…

Sheesh, what a mouthful. People would fall asleep before I’d finished being announced.

Inside the ballroom, white silk had been draped tastefully down the walls, matching the ivory tablecloths perfectly. All the guests were already assembled, and James and Olly were standing at the side.

“Greet your mother first!” Grandmother hissed from behind the doors. I breathed deeply.

This evening was not going to be fun. I walked over to my mother and father, who stood to receive people to my right. My knees groaned as I reproduced one of grandmother’s perfect deep curtsies, albeit not so perfectly. Boy, but she was lithe for a 60-year-old.

“Meredith,” My mother smiled at me, reverting to my birth name in public. Dad gave me a wink, then took my arm to introduce me to a man to his left.

“May I introduce Captain Edward Winchester, Captain Winchester, my daughter Princess Meredith.”

“Your highness, it is a pleasure to meet you,” said the captain, his back creaking as he bowed.

The tour of the room seemed to take a lifetime, from one face to another, greeting after greeting after greeting. How many people had my mother invited? Suffice to say it was more than the entire royal family. My attention perked up a little once we had revolved almost full circle back to the door.

“Meredith, this is the ambassador from Lorainya, Charles Du Poitre, ambassador, my daughter Meredith,” Dad introduced.

“Mademoiselle, absolutely charmed,” sneered the man in a dreadful oily tone, his high forehead glistening dimly with a sheen of sweat.

“Ambassador,” I inclined my head, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Entirely mine, majesté,” he oiled.

“Préférez-vous parler en Français, ambassadeur?” I asked.

“Merci, non. When in Rome…!” He laughed unpleasantly. I smiled politely back.

“And how is the royal family, Ambassador?” I enquired, “Prince Philippe has just left Private University, am I right?”

“Oui, oui, you are very well informed, majesté. He received the International Baccalaureate, with a Bilingual Diploma and honours in humanities and social sciences, a credit to our country.”

“How pleasant for him,” I struggled for an answer.

“I should imagine you could hope to challenge him though, majesté,” he added.

“Grandmother would certainly hope so,” I laughed.

“Indeed, indeed,” he snivelled.

“And how are their majesty’s?”

“Very well, merci majesté. But you will be able to see for yourself at the end of the summer.”

“I will?” I asked, momentarily taken aback, “I had not had the pleasure of being told of their imminent visit.”

“No? Well, I am glad to have been of service to you, majesté,” he nodded three times, quickly in succession, which gave a distinct likeness to one of those nodding-dog toys.

I struggled for something else to say as the comparison made me want to laugh, but thankfully the gong was run for dinner, and the quests began to file through into the dining room.