Royal Wedding (The Princess Diaries 11)

Everyone but me.

What am I going to do?

CHAPTER 25

8:27 p.m., Monday, May 4

In the HELV on the way to the consulate

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Ignored Grandmère’s advice about not sharing personal baggage with anyone but family and told Michael everything in the car just now on the way home—which means Lars heard it, too, but whatever. The fact that I have a secret sister is possibly one of the shortest-kept secrets of all time.

But I’m not not going to tell Michael something like this. We’re engaged.

Michael was surprised, but not as surprised as I would be if he’d told me his dad had a secret love child he’d been hiding in New Jersey for the past twelve years.

I suppose it’s easier to believe this of the Prince of Genovia than it would be of Dr. Moscovitz, a married psychoanalyst who lives on the Upper West Side and likes to read nonfiction about the fall of the Third Reich in his spare time.

“Well,” Michael said, after he’d gotten over his initial shock. “What are you going to do about it?”

I did not try to hide my bitterness. “Grandmère says I’m not supposed to do anything about it, for the good of the country. Not until after the election.”

“Right.” Michael rolled his eyes. “Again, what are you going to do about it?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know.” This is very distressing. I usually always know what to do . . . or at least I’m leaning in one direction or another. But in this case, I have no idea. “What would you do?”

“If I found out I had a little sister some ginger bohunk was threatening to take overseas, I’d go find her,” Lars volunteered from the front seat. “Then I’d put a bullet through the bohunk’s head. Probably a nine-millimeter. But possibly a forty-five, depending on how much I disliked him.”

Thanks for the input, Lars.

“I’m not sure that’s the most diplomatic way to handle it,” I said. “Nor would it be the best thing for a twelve-year-old to see.”

“I wouldn’t do it in front of her.” Now Lars is disgusted with me. “And I know enough to make it look like a suicide.”

• Note to self: Do not get on the bad side of the RGG.

Grandmère was right. I should have kept my personal baggage to myself.

CHAPTER 26

9:05 p.m., Monday, May 4

Still in the HELV

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Really must say “crap” even though princesses aren’t supposed to swear.

Pulled up in front of the consulate just now, and half the block has been taken over by blue wooden barricades which the NYPD (working in tandem with the Royal Genovian Guard) has erected to keep back all news vans and photojournalists crowded outside the consulate doors.

I don’t want to be the kind of girlfriend/fiancée/wife who says “I told you so,” but I did tell Michael this was going to happen. It’s official:

Our engagement made the national news.

And I’m no longer Why Won’t He Marry Mia.

I’m the Princess Bride.