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2. My noble ancestresses.

3. Cake.

CHAPTER 5

9:15 a.m., Thursday, April 30

Third-Floor Apartment

Consulate General of Genovia

New York City

I can’t believe this.

I looked out the window this morning because the paps seemed a bit louder than usual. I expected to see them playing some kind of drinking game (per usual) but instead I saw protesters!

Not many, but enough. They’re holding signs protesting my dad (and me, too).

I called Dominique right away and she said (in her adorable French accent), “I know, I know, your ’ighness. Don’t worry, we are on it.”

(Dominique has a hard time pronouncing the letter H, which is silent in French, so asking her things like the name of “that boy wizard” is one of my favorite pastimes whenever I happen to be stuck in traffic with her. “You mean ’airy Pottair, Princess?” she always asks, excitedly. “’airy Pottair, ’oo went to ’ogwarts?” Juvenile, but always entertaining.)

“On it?” I asked. “How are you ‘on it’?”

“Oh, we ’ave a few ideas . . .”

“Like what? Should we hold a press conference? Do you want me to issue a public statement? What?”

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s better that we just ignore them for now.”

“That’s what you said about the paparazzi, but they haven’t gone away in two weeks.”

“I know, but don’t worry. It’s only a ploy by your father’s opponent to get media attention.”

Oh, right. Of course.

What do Genovians have to complain about, anyway? Genovia has the lowest unemployment, violence, and poverty rate in the world (zero percent), and also the loveliest median year-round temperature (seventy-five degrees), being situated as it is so idyllically on the Riviera. Genovians pay no personal income tax, and business taxes are among the lowest in the European Union.

Even Genovia’s royal family is self-supported (unlike the UK’s, which is financed by public money). According to Rate the Royals, I have a personal net worth of a hundred million dollars.

HA! Where do these websites get this stuff?

• Note to self: Well, of course, I probably do have a personal net worth of that much, but only if you count things like medieval-era jewel-encrusted scepters, which you can’t exactly sell on eBay.

So if Cousin Ivan is going to have a chance of beating my dad for prime minister in this next election, he has to do something to make people believe things in Genovia aren’t all that great.

So why not pay a bunch of lame Genovian expats to stand outside its consulate in New York holding signs making a big deal out of super tiny issues, like allowing cruise ships in, keeping GMOs out, and complaining about that op-ed piece I wrote the other week for the Wall Street Journal?

Apparently some people feel the heir to the throne of one principality has no right to express her opinion of how the ruler of another principality governs his country, even one who’s stripped half his population of what little rights they previously had (the female half, of course), and is threatening to behead his own son for marrying a commoner (fortunately Prince Rashid and his bride have been given asylum in the United States).

All I did was comment on how much I disapprove of the sheikh. I didn’t put out a big sign that says HEY, OPPRESSED PEOPLE OF QALIF, COME TO GENOVIA! Like these protesters apparently think I did.

Still, when someone who is being mistreated in their home travels very far and under horrible conditions to get to yours, shouldn’t you at least offer them shelter and something to eat and drink until they sort things out? It seems like common courtesy to me.

So what is everyone’s problem?

Oh, God, now a television news van has shown up downstairs to film the protesters. Why? Why can’t a celebrity couple choose today to announce that they’re divorcing so the media has something else to cover?

Source: www.allfreenovel.com