How to Make a Princess CH. 6

Thomas and I entered the dining room at different times, trying to throw Ann off our scent, but once I entered the room I knew that our trick didn't work.

"Grace, dear. Come sit." Queen Ann sat already immaculately dressed for the day. Her husband sat with the paper in hand and looked up from it to smile at me.

I sat beside Thomas and a butler put a plate in front of me. That was something I would probably never get used to: suddenly appearing food.

"Well, Grace, dear. I was talking to your grandfather the other day and told him you were adjusting well. He asked me to take care of you for just a little longer, but I told him you were a joy to have around.

"I think you just liven up the palace so much more. It's never a dull moment with you around. Right, love?"

The king seemed to get the message and put down the paper, "Right as always, dear."

"So, I was thinking," Grace grabbed her husband's hand, "Actually, we were both thinking that maybe you would like to live here permanently."

I was confused for a second, before realizing that the king knew nothing of our contract. And that this was all a show for him.

"Like…forever?" I asked like this was a new idea for me. Thomas' hand came down to my leg, squeezing lightly.

"Well, of course there's college, but yes. Forever."

The king butted in, "Yes. We could sign a room of the palace over to you and we could also give you a title to help ease you into the society here."

"A title?"

Queen Ann nodded, "No one really excels in our circles unless they have a title or a job. Having a title will really help them take you seriously as a member of the Royal Household."

"What title would I get?"

(*&*)?

"I'm going to be sick," I said, as the maid took in the dress again. Women back in the day has corsets to make them look skinnier, but nowadays people just made the dress a size or two too small.

"No, you're not," Queen Ann said, sitting perfectly in her dress. I hadn't been here when they had wrestled her into the green satin gown, but I couldn't imagine that they had more trouble than they did trying to get me into mine. The lace, while it was supposed to make me look young and classy was as unforgiving as the people I was about to meet tonight.

"I'm can't breathe," I tried again.

"That's probably not the nerves," the maid said behind me before adding, "Miss."

I sucked in one more time and felt the zipper go all the way up. The maid smiled. I did not.

"I don't see why this is necessary."

Ann sighed, "It's your first public appearance. It's to get you out into the spotlight. And to make your presence here official."

"Making me a lady makes me official?"
"Making you a part of the royal household makes you official. Think of it as a mini-coronation. The court gets to see you as someone with power, not just a wanderer in the palace, and you get to be introduced to the most important figures in Adria."

"I don't see why anyone would show up to a noble naming. It's not that exciting."

"We have a house of lords in Adria's Parliament for a reason, just like the British. Plus, this is the first noble being named in over a century. The titles have been passed down through families, of course, but for the first time in a long time someone is earning the title. And a lady is the one to earn it."

"But it's just to make me a surrogate child of the Royal Household. I didn't do anything to earn it."

"The sentiment is still there."

I spun on her, "The sentiment is dead. There aren't any Lords or Ladies anymore. Or at least there shouldn't be."

There was a second of time where no one moved, no one breathed, no one even thought, and then Ann broke the silence. She looked at the maid, "You're excused."

The maid ran from the room, and it wasn't until the door closed that Ann pinched her nose, walking up to me, "You need to watch your mouth. Our country is not as young as the US. It does not survive off Enlightenment ideals. We have a legacy, a tradition, to uphold. Part of that tradition is lords and ladies and queens and kings and hereditary titles. If you keep spouting off that those things shouldn't exist, now or when you are queen, then it could all come tumbling down. The government could shut down, there could be riots on the street, the palace burnt to the ground, centuries' worth of history destroyed, people's lives put at risk. All because you opened your mouth. Do you want that to happen, Grace?"

I took a deep breath, "No. No, I don't want that."

She turned me to look into the mirror. Another girl, one that was becoming more and more familiar by the day, stared back at me, dressed in a gown that swept the floor. Blue lace was stitched over a white, flowing dress that swung out to make a cape like feature. My hair was up, braided around my head to look like a crown.

"You are the embodiment of a country and a crown. You will protect it with your life. Do you understand me?"

I nodded silently.

"Good." She smiled at me, "Your brother came in today."

"My brother? Jamie?"

"Of course. Who else was going to escort you?"

I blinked, "I just thought it would be Thomas."

"No, no. We can't overload them with you and Thomas. Not at first that is. We need to let them see you with the other men in your life. So, your brothers will escort you. One on each arm."

"Brothers."

"Jamie and Alexei, of course." I stared at her through the mirror, but she just shrugged regally, "Alexei needs to get out of the way. An over-protective big brother seems to be just the place for him. Plus, he's Russia and you're the US. We need to prove that you have powerful allies, and this is where we start."

"And so, you pulled Jamie out of West Point for what? So that Alexei just looks like a mirror of my brother?"

"That. And to prove that no matter how far into the Adrian society you go, the US will still back you up.".

"You've got it all planned out, don't you?"

"Don't we all have a plan, Grace?"

I didn't tell her that she was wrong.

(*&*)?

"Your jobs are to make sure I don't fall, make a fool of myself, or have a panic attack."

Jamie stared at me for a second, "I'm not sure about that last one."

"I'm less sure about the second one," the Russian voice chimed in, "Making a fool of yourself is kind of second nature by now."

"Neither of you are funny," I looked down at my dress to make sure it was still okay, "If I faint, Ms. Chancellor has smelling salts in her purse. Do not rip the dress open."

This time they both stared at me, but we didn't have time.

"Announcing— "

The herald droned on as I straightened my shoulders and took both the boys' arms, "Let's hope this works."

The boys and I stepped down the stairs and into the crowd of people and towards the dais with the ceremonial thrones in place. The Royal Family sat on matching golden thrones, holding themselves perfectly upright.

They would go through the ceremony on the dais before joining the common people, just like the old tradition dictates. They would announce me a Lady and then humbly sink to my level to accept me into the nobility. How sweet of them.

As we approached the thrones, the boys both held back until they were walking a few paces behind me, the both of them pressing together to form a wall. And a statement: no one gets to me before getting to them first.

The king stood from his chair and walked forward as kneeled on the ground, "Grace Olivia Blakely, you have come before us today to be initiated into the Noble Court of Adria. Is this your wish?"

"It is."

"And do you understand the sacrifices you will make for your country?"

"I do."

"Do you understand the responsibilities that come with nobility? The responsibilities of political ties? The responsibilities of hospitality, loyalty, service, and virtues?"

"I do."

"Do you understand the responsibilities of being a member of the Royal Household? Of keeping country secrets, protecting the Royal Family, and submitting to the monarch's wishes?"

"I do."

"Then rise: Lady Grace Olivia Blakely."

The applause made the chandeliers shake.

For the next hour, I was whisked from one person to the next, being formally introduced to all of them and trying to make a good impression. Some of the nobility and politicians wanted to know me, how up to date I was with the situations of Adria, if I understood economic structures, if I was holding political ties with other countries. They wanted to know what I could offer them. Offer Adria. Others just wanted to know if I was really crazy or not.

I offered them all smiles and nonanswers as I moved through the crowds.

"Do you want us to take it back now?" Thomas asked, coming up to me.

"I would like you to take the dress back."

"You look beautiful."

"Did you come over here for a reason?"

"Well, I wanted to save you. And now seemed like the best time to do it since your guard dogs were gone."

I smiled, looking over at where Alexei and Jamie had gone to get some food, "I think I wore them out. They needed to stock up on energy."

Thomas smiled and looked over his own shoulder, "If I don't take you out on the dance floor, you are going to be flooded by more politicians."

"I have never been so glad that someone asked me to dance."

I wasn't too bad of a dancer now that both Ms. Chancellor and Queen Ann had given me lessons, so it was easy for me to let Thomas twirl me around the dance floor. The music was a simple waltz with a graceful harmony and it was easy to swing around the dancefloor, letting my dress flare out behind me. There was something simply honest about losing myself in the measured movements of the dance, the physicality led by familiar steps. I actually found myself smiling and laughing at a story Thomas told me. He led me past couple after couple, some smiling or glaring at me as we went by.

When the song ended, the crowd clapped and Thomas bowed to me before turning away to walk across the dance floor, his work done. Except he didn't take more than two steps away from me before I saw the man reaching into his jacket.

Before I knew it, I had pushed Thomas behind me and was suddenly held at gunpoint.

People screamed and tried to run, tried to duck under tables, but I stayed frozen. A body guard was able to grab Thomas from out behind me, but didn't have orders to save the newly minted lady.

"You," said the gunman, his face red.

"Me," I replied gently, raising my hands in the air.

"You made me miss my target. I wanted to kill him."

"My apologies." I saw Alexei prowling around the edge of the dancefloor and knew he was looking for an opening to attack. I didn't have to turn to know that Jamie was doing the same thing, but both of them had to know it was too dangerous. I had a gun pointed at me.

"I'm Grace Blakely. Can you tell me your name?"

The gunman violently shook his head, "No. No, I can't."

He looked on the edge of a mental breakdown.

"Okay. That's alright."

"Lady Blakely," an Adrian Secret Service agent said, "I need you to – "

"Shut up!" the gunman yelled.

"It's alright, sir! It's alright!" I tried to calm the man. I pointed towards the agent, "This is Agent Rogers, okay? This is Steve. He's a friend. He's here to protect everyone, including you." I hoped the gunman didn't recognize Captain America's name, but it was the first one that came to mind since I didn't know the agent's name. "Okay? Everything's fine. Can I ask you to lower the gun?"

"No!" he said raising the gun to aim for my head.

I froze for a second, leaving the ballroom silent.

"Ok, sir. That's fine. But before you shoot, I want you to know who you're shooting. Like I said, I'm Grace. I've only lived at the palace for a while, before that I lived all over the US. My dad is in Iran. My mother is dead. I have one brother by birth and another that we might as well adopt by now— "

"Shut up."

"I have friends and family. My grandfather just had a heart attack, and I hope I don't have to give him another one. I'm a person, sir. And if you shoot me, plenty of people will be hurt by it."

"That's what I want! That's what I want!

"My doctor says I shouldn't like these things, causing pain. Sometimes I agree with her. But not today."

"Your doctor?" I asked, "Sir, are you on any medication?"

He smiled at me, "Not anymore. They can't make me do it anymore."

"You're off your meds," I said, his story coming into place, "Can you tell me what you're on your meds for?"

"I'm off them! I don't take them anymore!"

"Okay. That's fine. Sometimes I don't like my pills either."

The gunman was silent for a second, so I continued, hoping I was gaining his trust, "I had to go off of one because I would randomly fall asleep. Another one…I don't remember much from when I was on it. Just blurs. Another gave me a panic attack."

"The one they had me on…I wasn't me."

I nodded, "I understand. Sometimes it feels like nothing can go right. But it's all in our heads. People go about their lives and they don't see the things we do. They don't understand what runs through our heads. I understand why you think killing people in a ballroom sounds rational, but I'm going to tell you something: it's not. It's not rational. These people never did anything to you and they have families and friends just like I do. They want to return to them. And you killing them won't make the things you see go away. If anything, they'll make it worse." I took a couple of steady steps towards him, "Sir— "

"Erik."

"Erik. Erik, the only way to make those things disappear is to get better. And that's hard, but there's no other way. Killing these people won't help you."

Erik started to put the gun down, shaking his head, "Maybe it won't." Then he shook his head harder, "No. It has to. It has to!"

Then, he raised the gun again, aimed it at me, and fired. The bullet caught me in the arm, and the impact made me stumble, trip on my dress, and smash my head into the ball room floor as screams and the sounds of a struggle flew through the air.

Everything went dark.