Royal Wedding (The Princess Diaries 11)

Still on Interstate 295

Rate the Royals Rating: 7

People are honking at the limo as they drive by. It’s like they’ve never seen one before, which is ridiculous. I’ve watched the show Jersey Shore, and they rode in limos all the time.

Well, not ones with Genovian flags flying from them, but still. I suppose I should get François to pull over so we can remove the flags and not draw so much attention to ourselves, but I’d rather save the time and get there, already.

Tina is continuing to read. The two rivals for Amalia’s affection, “Mick” and “Jared,” come from enemy factions. Jared is blond and warmly creative, whereas Mick has dark hair and is more coldly analytical. Amalia seems to be leaning more toward Jared.

But none of it really matters since they’re all dying of radiation poisoning.

Lilly just said she’s going to give Love in the Time of Shadows “a million stars as soon as J.P. self-publishes it somewhere.”

This caused Tina to look teary-eyed. “A Million Stars,” she echoed, with a sigh.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Lilly said in disgust. “If you miss Boris that much, why don’t you take him back?”

“How can I?” Tina asked. “He betrayed my trust.”

“Did he?” Lilly asked. “Or did you destroy it by believing some bimbo blogger’s word over your boyfriend’s?”

I widened my eyes. “Lilly!”

“Well, it’s true,” Lilly said, as Tina appeared stricken. “Look, as a lawyer, you know I’m obligated to look at the facts, and weigh everyone’s testimony impartially, regardless of their sex. But as a feminist, I’m far more likely to show solidarity for my sisters, and believe a woman’s word over a man’s. Hos before bros, and all that.”

I sucked in my breath, glancing at Lars and Halim, who fortunately weren’t paying the slightest bit of attention. “Lilly. Sisters before misters.”

“But in this particular case, I just can’t,” she went on, ignoring me, as usual. “I know Boris too well. He’s the type of man who, if he did cheat, would immediately confess to it, because he wouldn’t be able to bear the guilt for one second. So the fact that he keeps saying he didn’t do it makes me think he really, honest to God, didn’t do it, and in this one individual case, we have got to believe this particular bro over this particular ho.”

I bit my lip. “I hate to say this, Tina, but Lilly has a point. For a musical genius, Boris is pretty uncomplicated.”

Tina continued to look upset. “I know, okay? But photos don’t lie. Unless . . . do you think it’s possible that girl drugged him, or something? Maybe she—”

“Okay, let’s not get carried away,” Lilly interrupted. “He definitely wasn’t drugged. He seemed pretty . . . alert.”

Tina glared at her. “You looked? You looked at the photos? I can’t believe you looked! I haven’t even looked at the photos!”

“Hey,” Lilly said with a shrug. “I’m single. I have to have some fun.”

“I can’t believe you,” Tina declared, hotly. “I know you used to go out with him, Lilly, but that’s a violation of—”

“Uh, Tina,” I interrupted, guiltily. “I looked, too. I mean, it was by mistake, and I clicked away as soon as I realized what they were. But Lilly’s exaggerating, as usual.” I glared at her. “They were only from the waist up so you couldn’t really see anything. In fact, they were actually kind of innocent—”

“I can’t believe you!” Tina cried. “You guys are disgusting!”

“How did you click on them by mistake?” Lilly, grinning, kicked me in the leg.

“Shut up.” I kicked her back. “Tina, don’t be mad. I’m telling you, the photos aren’t anything like what people are making them out to be. In fact, they’re kind of sweet, and the lighting’s surprisingly good. Maybe you should look at them, because the more I think about it, the more I wonder if Boris could be telling the truth about them being Photoshopped—at least partly—and if Lilly is right about the bro thing, which I think she is, maybe that girl really is some kind of editing genius who—”

“No!” Tina looked as if she were feeling sick to her stomach. “I’ll never look at them. And I think we should change the subject now. Let’s talk about what you’re going to say to your little sister when you meet her.”

I agreed, but only out of pity for her.

This turned out to be a huge mistake. In addition to being knowledgeable about fingernail polish, it appears that if I’m going to get along with a twelve-year-old, I’m also supposed to:

• Have read all the latest semi-erotic boy band fan fiction on something called Wattpad.

• Know how to Snapchat.