[b]Chapter 1[/b] [hr] “Princess in Club: Squeezed Booty.” My mom recited in her bloody British accent tone. “What is the matter with you? How many times do I have to tell you? How am I supposed to- oh gosh, this is just too much, Elizabeth!” “That isn’t too much. That’s just normal. That’s how French and British greet each other. And mom, it’s like 7 in the morning, and I’m having a bad hangover and all I hear is your usual sermon on the mountain.” “Mind your words, young lady! I’ve had too much of this! I’d better sent you out and find a husband!” she said and looked at me again with her gentle brown eyes that was almost pleading. “You just have to stop and behave in such a princessly manner, Elizabeth.” I almost felt guilty when she said that. “I’m just.. trying to be normal.” “You are not normal. We are not normal. We have the royal blood and everybody in this country expects us to act like one – to be a role model that everyone can look up to.” “Nobody looks up on me.” “The little girls do. Elizabeth, being a princess.. you remind them of their fairytales. You are like the materialization of those fantasies.. and this?” She held the morning paper on her hand. “This isn’t the fairy tale princess they expect you to be.” “This is reality, Mom. And princesses in this time don’t act like those girls on Disney channel! They aren’t damsels in distress waiting for a prince to come! I can’t be that!” The bickering and argument could’ve worsened if not for the two knocks on my door. The chief Butler, Marthol came in and asked for the “queen’s” spare time. “Ohh, thank God! Marthol saved me.” I sighed and slumped on my bed hoping that I’d get back to sleep again. “Your royal highness, your breakfast is ready.” Vivienne came in with a cart on her hand. “I guess I won’t be eating breakfast with the queen?” I looked at her and smiled. She nodded and proceeded to push the cart on the table. “She doesn’t mean it, does she?” I asked. “I cannot give an exact answer to that, Princess Elizabeth. Her majesty has always been firm with her words.” She gave curtsy and excused herself. “Thank you.” I said and just went back to bed. “Anyway, will Beatriz drop by the palace today?” “I would check the security office if Lady Beatriz would be here any time today. Excuse me, your highness.” “Oh please, will you just drop the ‘royal highness’ thing? I mean, you’ve been with me for 3 years now and you still call me that. It’s not like the queen is listening to our conversation.” “I’m sorry, your royal highness, but that is the rule we follow.” “Rules. Protocols. Useless. This is why I hate this life! It’s the 21st century and we still have that long list of traditions, rules and protocols-“ “And even manners!” The door suddenly opened and Beatriz came in with a smile on her face. “Good morning your highness.” She teased. “Oh come on.” I rolled my eyes. “Not you, too.” Beatriz laughed. “I’m sorry, I just like calling you your royal highness. It’s like you’re all innocent and everything. And the morning paper says different.” “I’m sure the queen is all busy thinking ways as to how to take down all these photos.” Pfffttt. “Well, she shouldn’t. Princess Charlotte of Monaco has always been on the tabloids in her bikini and bloody skinny body.” “Exactly. And Prince Harry had been dating this slutty girl named Chelsy and the British queen does not give a damn.” “Well.. that one with Prince Harry is so much different. The British royalty had always kept a mum about it but I heard from my daddy that Prince Charles is having a lot of wrinkles because of that.” “Seriously?” “Yeah, so they’re kind of hoping that he finds someone as perfect and as royalty-ish like Catherine.” “Catherine. I wonder how it feels like for her to be called Catherine instead of Kate.” I sighed and Beatriz slumped to the bed beside me. “And I wonder how it feels like to be called Princess.. or royal highness.. or whatever.” We laughed. “Oh right, so I passed by the library and the maids outside were talking about a ball in honor of their lovely princess.” She teased. “A ball?” “Yeah. I don’t know exactly. And how come you have no idea of that?” “Oh my gosh!” I stood up. “She’s not taking it seriously, is she?” “What?” “Oh my gosh. Seriously.” “The what? Can you please tell me?” “Well, my mom was so pissed off awhile ago because of this.” I pointed the morning paper. “And she was muttering nonsense.” “What kind of nonsense?” “Like marriage.” “MARRIAGE IS NOT NONESENSE! ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU’RE 19!” “I know.” She stood up and looked at me. “Her majesty might be serious this time.” She stared at the morning paper. “And you don’t look very good at this photo. It seemed like you gained a pound or what.” “But this morning paper will help me not get a husband. I mean, if you think about it, nobody would like to marry a princess who’s got her ass touched by some French man on some random pub.” “If.. and only he isn’t like you.” “What do you mean?” “There are princes, dukes, barons who understand this kind of situation. You guys are all alike. You want freedom. You want to be normal. You just want to have fun. If there’s a prince that’s also into the whole ‘freedom’ thing, then he might agree and marry you.” “But if he also wants freedom, he won’t marry.” “Well, you also have a point.” I smiled. “Forget about that. Let’s worry about it when the invitations are out.” She smiled. “What do we do today?” “Where’s Peter?” [quote][i]August 24, 2011, 8:45 pm Chateau de Montbielard Mom and I had an argument this morning. I was published on the morning paper with some French man holding my buttocks. She was raged and we’ve never spoken to each other since then. She was mumbling about me getting married to avoid and stop the scandals. Didn’t she experience this phase? The phase where you feel like you aren’t a kid anymore. And among the royal families in the world, I think and I absolutely know that I’m the only one not enrolled in a prestigious university because my mom thinks that I learn better here in the palace. I’d prolly sneak out one day and just fly to wherever. Anyway, Beatriz and I went horse-riding and Peter dropped by. There is absolutely something wrong with the two. They’ve been avoiding each other for the whole afternoon and Peter just went ahead without even talking to Beatriz. I didn’t ask Beatriz about that, but I hope she’ll come around and tell me herself. Summer ends in a week or so and Beatriz will be going to school again and so does Peter. I envy Beatriz. She isn’t from any royal family, but she has the money to spend a lot. She goes to a university and meets a lot of people. She goes to parties without bodyguards and no photographs. She has a life. I really wonder how life is if I wasn’t born a princess. I’d probably be enjoying this night with some friends drinking tequila and eating peanuts on a boulevard. Or making out with a really hot guy and wake up on his bed. (Pardon me for my perverted thoughts.) I wonder what college life is. I’ll prolly keep on wondering forever. [/i][/quote] I closed my notebook and sat on my bed. This notebook is the only thing where I can be myself. I can call the queen as mom and the king as dad. I can use foul languages and I’d never get scolded. I can always look back on the pages and laugh on my grammars. It’s always personal. But this too is a rule. The Royal Archive Minister is tasked to check our diaries. He doesn’t read it of course, but he checks the dates, like whether we’ve skipped a day or not. As part of the royal family, it is a must that we write things or events or thoughts in our everyday lives. It’s a tradition – and more like.. for historical purposes. Either way, I like writing, so it doesn’t matter. The next day, as I was walking down the hallways of the palace, I noticed everyone was running to and fro. I wanted to go shopping so I asked for the limousine but Vivienne told me that designers will be sending dresses and gowns for the event on Saturday. “What event?” “Her Majesty had sent out invitations for a ball, your highness.” “What ball?” “Didn’t the queen mention anything?” “No, of course not. I wouldn’t ask if she did.” She paused and sighed. “It is an event in which they find someone for your marriage.” “WHAT?! Do I look like I can be auctioned?” “No, your highness.” “I know! Seriously!” I stormed out of the room and Vivienne followed me. “Princess Elizabeth, please wait. The queen had instructed me not to tell you this, I beg of you.” I stopped and looked at her. “I will lose my job, your highness. I beg of you to please let this go.” “Okay.” I smiled. I took a deep breath. “Well then, I’ll just wait for the fittings.” I went back to my room and locked the door. “Thank you, Princess Elizabeth.” She whispered on the other side. I spent the next five hours choosing a gown that isn’t too showy and sexy and everything. It was just exhausting. Saturday came and I wasn’t really in the mood to say hi to everyone. "Her Royal Highness, Princess Elizabeth Mathilde of Varoa!" Everyone had these royal smiles on their faces. I wasn’t really enjoying myself to that. I was just sitting there, beside my mom and dad and she was taking me to people and introducing me, announcing that I am a good princess and that they wouldn’t regret taking me into their family – royal sales talk. “Stop it.” I told the queen. “What?” She asked with a smile on her face pretending that everything’s okay. “Mom, just stop it.” I said. Some of the people looked at us and she dragged me to the balcony. “This is for your own sake.” “Really? Or is it for the family’s reputation’s sake?” I asked. “I’m so tired of this. I’m not a car that needs to be sold to these royalties! I am your daughter and-“ “And you just need to act like one. You want me to understand you, Elizabeth? Isn’t it unfair? Yet you don’t want to understand us.” “But Mom-“ “Enough of this talk.” She stormed out and mingled with the others. I stayed and stopped myself from crying. I took a deep breath and leaned on the marble railing. Varoa is such a beautiful country. Wittsburg itself is a very nice city and it’s good that I can see it from this balcony. The lights look like stars and the wind is fresh. “Lovely country, isn’t it?” Someone asked. “This place got a nice view of the city.” He said in almost a pleasing tone. I didn’t look back, nor peeked as to who I was talking to. I was afraid that he might know I’m the princess and he’d mock me or something. “I love this country.” “Am I intruding your personal time?” He asked. “No.” “Should I stand there beside you?” “No.” “Okay then. I’ll just be here behind the curtains.” He said. “So you love this country?” “Yes.” “That’s good. You won’t have a hard time being queen.” “I don’t wanna be queen.” “Then you don’t love this country.” “Why aren’t you calling me royal highness?” He paused and laughed. “Am I supposed to?” “No, not really. I’m just asking.” “I don’t really like manners and protocols, so I think I’ll keep this casual. You don’t plan to put me in prison if I don’t, right?” “No, it’s okay.” “I heard you’re a mess that’s why the royal family had this ball. Really, are you?” “They just don’t understand. I don’t want to be here.” “Then go somewhere. Royal families have all the resources they need.” He said in almost a mocking tone. “I can’t.” “Why not? Are you scared?” “No.” “I think you are.” “I’m not!” “Then go. Find yourself. See the world.” “But.. this place..” “This place will never vanish. This place will always be here. And you will always be welcome when you come back.” “How can you say that?” “Because I’ve been there. I’ve done that. But I passed. And my family has understood what I meant with going to college, spending time with non-royal friends, and seeing the world in a whole new way.” “And?” “And I’m always welcomed whenever I go home. It’s not like your family will dethrone you. After all, you are the only heir to the throne, aren’t you?” My mind suddenly started shooting bullets all over the place. He’s right. I can always come back home, I actually have nothing to lose. “But what if I’m scared?” “Then you’ll be forever imprisoned in your royal bubble and you’ll miss out half of your life.” I smiled. And when I turned to look at him, he wasn’t there. He was gone, like Cinderella. And this is the part where the prince runs after her, and I did. I ran after him, but he got into his black limousine, and I didn’t even see a glimpse of his face – only that smirk. [i] That mocking yet challenging smirk.[/i]