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“DIE, PRINCESS.”
The shower water hits me square in the eye and the words blur. I quickly turn it off and squint at the words, water dripping down half of my hair. I am shaking—and not because the water was unexpectedly cold. Autumn in Vermont has turned abruptly vicious these last few days.
They warned me about the quick change in the weather here, but it was sunshine and green grass one day, then gray skies and drizzle the next. I wasn’t expecting that. I look at the scribbled words again.
I can’t have read what I think I just read.
I close my eyes and wipe the water off my stinging eyelids, then open then slowly. The letters are still there, written in black sharpie on the shower tiles of the common shower in my dorm floor in UVM. I wipe the water off my forehead and chin. Next to the ‘DIE PRINCESS’, there’s a second message:
‘Die, Crown Princess Olivia.’
Followed by swear words so vile I did not even know they existed.
Talk about getting a thorough education. I have learned so much today, just by looking at the white tiles of the shower. Where curses are written in large, block letters, next to the order to ‘die die die’. Again and again.
I, as the shower tiles say, am Crown Princess Olivia.
And someone wants me to die.
No, they want me towantto die.
“Bianca!” I scream.
/Marco/
[audio transcript]
Mom, if you’re listening to this, that means I’m dead.
So, if you’re listening to this… If anyone is listening to this…
I’m sorry.
two
All my life people have been telling me what to do.
My father became king when I was only seven years old.
And, I, as his daughter and, more importantly, the heiress to the throne, was in a unique position to ‘unite the west’, whatever that means. I have an Austrian mom (well, had, she is dead), a French dad, a Greek grandfather, and a Russian grandmother.
Beauty queens always say they wish for world peace, but here is the thing: I actuallyamworld peace. Or I could be.
If and when I ascend to the throne, all of these countries who live in me in the form of my parents, grandfathers and lineage, will have to unite to support me. Even a small country like Asteria, my country, plays a powerful role in world politics. Especially when its kings and princes come from the greatest royal houses of Europe and Russia.
Which, in effect, means that the actual, entire world, is entitled in having an opinion about me. An opinion which they voice often and loudly. When you are a royal, people feel that you belong to them for some reason.
There are twice as many opinions as there are people, my dad, the king, always says. People have opinions, that’s for sure. Opinions about our country, Asteria, about the king, about me.
All my life I’ve been told that I am too important, but not as myself. As what I represent. Countries meet in my DNA, and I have to be careful to make them all proud. Not to mess up, not to die, not to cause a scandal.
Well, now, here is a scandal.
The king has a child. Other than me. I am not his only daughter, I am not his only heir. Except that he has only been married once, to my mom, and has been single since she died giving birth to me. But now, the news has come out that the King of Asteria has another child.
A son, possibly.
