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It’s a work in progress.
I lift the fine China teacup and take a sip. It's Malveaux’s specialty tea, made with a certain blend of spices. I should like it. Scratch that. I should love it. Everyone else seems to. But to me it tastes like cough syrup mixed with something super bitter and unpleasant. I add three sugar cubes and the stuff still makes me feel like barfing.
I miss coffee, nice, yummy coffee, my daily Starbucks Grande Mint Frappuccino in particular.
Maybe if I decide to become Queen, I should look into getting them to open a branch here, right around the corner from the palace? Or in the palace! Now we’re talking.
For the last two mornings I've been waiting for Alice to leave the bedroom to pull out today's outfit choices, when I've jumped out of bed and poured the tea into the potted plant over by the chest of drawers. That way, she thinks I've drunk it. I don't have the heart to tell Alice I don't like her country’s national drink. Or rather my country’s national drink.
Another work in progress.
Vladimir and Alice have been giving me daily princess lessons, and I’ve been learning everything from how to greet people of varying ranks, to how to wave, to how to get in and out of a car without showing the world my underpants. All-important life skills for new princesses, apparently.
But today is a big one. The biggest. It’s the day of the ball to introduce me to Malveaux as a princess.
“What are the royal family of Ledonia like?”
“They’re wonderful, and so very important to Malveaux,” Alice replies.
“And the real version?” I lead.
She glances around, as though someone may hear.
“It’s just us, Alice. You can tell me what you think.”
“The princesses are lovely, particularly Princess Amelia, the younger sister. She is so very friendly and sweet. Everyone says so. Princess Sofia is the oldest. She’s quieter than Princess Amelia, but also kind. People say she takes her role very seriously and wishes that she herself could be queen.”
“But if she's the oldest then she will be queen, right?”
“The laws of Ledonia are not as progressive as they are here in Malveaux. As such, her younger brother, Prince Alexander, will be king.”
Prince Alexander.
“What's he like?” I ask casually, even though I already know the answer. Arrogant, self-satisfied, and altogether rather too pleased with himself.
Alice gets a goofy look on her face. “He's so handsome and charming.”
“And a total player,” I lead.
“A player?”
“You know, likes the ladies.”
“Oh, absolutely. He's very popular with the ladies.”
“Hmm.”
I know his type. Although Chloe has made it clear how incredibly jealous she is that I get to meet her crush tonight, I’m not exactly looking forward to it.
I pick up my silverware—which is actually goldware—and cut off a slice of what looks more like a French crêpe than an American pancake and take a bite. It’s melt-in-your-mouth good because the Malveauxian approach to maple syrup is to drench the pancake in so much caramel sauce you could slip into a diabetic coma after one meal.
“This is delicious,” I tell Alice through my mouthful. “You've absolutely got to try this.”
“No, no. That's your breakfast, ma’am,” she says, gesturing at the tray as though I'm some kind of simpleton. “Err, Maddie.”
“I know, but it's so good I really want you to try it.”
Alice glances at my breakfast before she looks back at me. “It does look delicious.”
