Forever Princess Read Free

about right now.
    Well, not bigger than where I’m going to spend the next four—or more, if I goof off and don’t declare a major right away like Mom did—years of my life.
    But there’s the whole thing with Dad. What if he doesn’t win the election? The election that wouldn’t even be happening if it weren’t for me telling the truth.
    And Grandmère is so upset about the fact that René, of all people, is running against Dad—plus all the rumors that have been going around ever since I made Princess Amelie’s declaration public, like that our family was purposefully hiding Amelie’s declaration all along, so that the Renaldos could stay in power—that Dad has had to banish her to Manhattan and have her plan this stupid birthday party for me just to distract her so she’ll quit driving him insane with her constant barrage of, “But does this mean we’ll have to move out of the palace?”
    She—like the readers of teenSTYLE —can’t seem to understand that the Genovian palace—and royal family—are protected under Amelie’s declaration (and besides which are a major source of tourist income, just like the British royal family). I keep explaining to her, “Grandmère, no matter what happens in the election, Dad is always going to be HRH Prince of Genovia, you’re always going to be HRH Dowager Princess, and I’m always going to be HRH Princess of Genovia. I’m still going to have to open new wings of the hospital, I’m still going to have to wear this stupid tiara and attend state funerals and diplomatic dinners…I’m just not going to make legislation. That will be the prime minister’s job. Dad’s job, hopefully. Got it?”
    Only she never does.
    I guess it’s the least I can do for Dad after what I did. Dealing with her, I mean. I figured, when I spilled the beans about this whole Genovia-is-really-a-democracy thing, he’d run for prime minister unopposed. I mean, with our apathetic population, who else would be interested in running?
    I never dreamed the Contessa Trevanni would put up the money for her son-in-law to campaign against him.
    I should have known. It’s not like René has ever had an actual job. And now that he and Bella have a baby, he’s got to do something , I suppose, besides change the Luvs disposables.
    But Applebee’s ? I suppose he’s getting a kickback from them, or whatever.
    What’s going to happen if Genovia is overrun by chain restaurants and—my chest seriously gets tight when I think about this—turned into another Euro Disney?
    What can I do to make this not happen?
    Dad says to stay out of it—that I’ve done enough…
    Yeah. Like that doesn’t make me feel too guilty.
    It’s all just so exhausting.
    Not to mention all this other stuff. Like it even matters, in comparison to what’s going on with Dad and Genovia, but…well, it kind of does. I mean, Dad and Genovia are facing all these changes, and so am I.
    The only difference is, they aren’t lying about it, the way I am. Well, okay, sure, Dad’s lying about why Grandmère is in New York (to plan my birthday party, when really, she’s here because he can’t stand having her around).
    That’s one lie. I have multiple lies. Lies layered upon lies.
    Mia Thermopolis’s List of Big Fat Lies She’s Been Telling Everyone:
    Lie Number One: Well, of course, first, there’s the liethat I didn’t get into all those colleges. (No one knows the truth but me. And Principal Gupta. And my parents, of course.)
    Lie Number Two: Then there’s the lie about my senior project. I mean, that it wasn’t actually on the history of Genovian olive oil pressing, circa 1254–1650, which is what I’ve told everyone (except Ms. Martinez, of course, who was my advisor, and who actually read it…or at least the first eighty