The Royal Guardian
By: Sokai
Disclaimer:I, Sokai, do not claim ownership to the workings of W.I.T.C.H. -- I leave that honor up to Elisabetta Gnone. Nor do I own Meg Cabot's "The Princess Diaries" series (even though this story isn't even really related to the series. Just don't want to hear law suit claims LoL). However, I can and DO claim to own this story and its inspired ideas FROM said series.
Note:Ahh! Yay! You all liked the previous chapter!! 16 reviews!! Yay:Dances: I rock. I know it. LoL No, not really. But I AM grateful for the attention, believe it. Thanks for all of the reviews thus far, the 16,130 hits for this entire story (which even managed to beat out my "Harry Potter and the Collided Worlds" story, which has 15,118 hits so far) and even the compliments that ran along the lines of calling the previous chapter "brilliant" and "absolutely addicting." So then I guess all of the effort and "sacrifice"had been worth it. Oh, and to answer someone's question, yes, as I'd said, a lot of the things Will has gone through (or will), negating the finding out that she's a princess and knowing billionaire Eddie (even though he's technically my cousin. . . so I guess I do know him LoL) is all me and my life when I was around her age. (Not boasting or anything. Just saying so one final time so it won't be asked over yet again.) So yes, her teachers and their 'tudes and which ones do/do not like her as well as how she feels about each and all that is all real/me. (Just hope that none of them ever read this story and remember me, or else I'll never hear the end of it. LoL "So THAT'S how you thought of me while in high school??" Yes. Yes it was. LoL Only one I wouldn't mind reading this is Ms. Darcy Wojcik -- whom I know I spell her name as Daisy Wojick in this story instead. Now she was really awesome as a teacher in 10th grade and exactly how I write her in the story, and just one I'd always appreciated having so much faith and expectation within my growth as a student, overall person and writer. So thanks again, Ms. Wojcik, if you ever read this!)
This chapter was created/written in September 2007.
Chapter Thirty Four
Tuesday Evening, 11:46 pm,
"My Bedroom" Inside of the Presidential Suite of the Infinity Crowne Plaza Hotel
I am feeling so very defeated at the moment. This isn't a permanent notion, mind you. However, it's just how I currently feel, that's all.
And with good reason.
I still can't believe that Eli never once had it within himself to let me know that he has three daughters -- That I have cousins. It would have been nice to have known this from the get, you know? And not because I can (and will try to) use one (or all, I'm not picky) of them to take my place as Marsily's next queen. But because, with all feelings of animosity towards their father aside and the drama of it all, it's pretty cool.
I mean, being an only child, it can get pretty lonely and tedious to do things alone and such.
Yeah, there's the girls and my mom to fill that "lonely time" on occasion. But my mother's a bit too old to be able to truly relate to everything I might wish to discuss, and the girls obviously have their own lives to tend to for the most part.
So, it would have been pretty cool to be able to also rely upon the extra members of my family to express my woes and worries to, or to just have a plain old good time with.
And at least now, though, I actually can.
Well, assuming that my newfound relatives all like me and want to acknowledge me as family at all, anyway.
But I digress.
Must discuss my confrontation with His Majesty, the Royal Liar.
Eli had been within the study (that I hadn't ventured into before now, although I probably should more often because it'd most likely help me concentrate upon my homework more astutely, since it doesn't have a cushy bed to lie down upon), seated behind an impressive Mahogany desk. He seemed to have been within a phone conference with some other prestigious individual for however long, I don't know, when I'd burst in with Ernest and Nova meekly following behind.
Needless to say, the King was understandably surprised to see me. (And I only say "understandably" because he'd obviously been expecting me around an hour later.)
Nonetheless, he simply continued on within his telephone conversation before completely addressing me.
"Ah! Ne! Eh. . . Seegnomee, Prime Minister Kyriaki. . . Ne. . . Ne. . . Efkhareesto! Kaleeneekhta, Prime Minister Kyriaki," Eli lightheartedly said as he concluded his conference, putting down the black, elegant styled receiver before locking eyes with mine.
Even though I'm quite sure that he could see the blatant, livid nature I had carried with me into the study (especially since I was also breathing heavily), Eli just smiled gently at me.
"I. . . take it that you were feeling quite eager to begin your next lesson, Princess Wilhelmina," he commented, slowly rising from his grand leather seat. "That is good. Punctuality is key. And with perfect timing, as well, as I was just finishing a telephone conference with the prime minister of Greece, a country with whom we do frequent business transactions, I might add. So keep that in mind, as you continue on in your journey as princess."
"'Journey as princess.' Hmm. . . That sounds pretty interesting. Too bad I won't be continuing this reject journey anymore!" I nearly exploded at the man standing before me, throwing down my books and promptly taking off my jacket.
It wasn't because of my sudden outburst that had made him sharply gasp and then cry out in utter alarm (which was a bit humorous to have witnessed, admittedly).
I'm pretty sure that, by now, Eli is used to such acts. (He'd better be, because nothing but attitude is what he'll ever get from me.)
No, no.
It was because of my multicolored sweater, having been solely white in color once upon a time that had caused the Marsilian king to nearly screech like a schoolgirl to have gazed upon.
"Zut alors! Qu'est-ce que c'est??" he started to swiftly spout in fluent French, waving his open palm towards me while I struggled to understand what he was saying and Ernest and Nova smartly bowed and dismissed themselves from the room. "Ohh, mon Dieu! Tu veux que je deviennen folle!! C'est vrai!!"
I could only stand there, watching him, unsure of whether or not I should grow more upset than I was already, or laugh at his asinine display while he carried on within his verbally foreign tirade. I'm obviously going to need both a Greek and French tutor in the future, because I could only recognize that "je" meant "I," and "tu" meant "you" in French. And I didn't understand a single word Eli had spoken in Greek just minutes before.
My mother, however, seemed to have been able to understand what was being said, because she suddenly appears behind me in the doorway and cries out at her brother, "What is going on in here? Will! Honey, why are you covered in paint? Did someone attack you? Did your teacher let you out of detention early? And why are you accusing my daughter of driving you crazy? Seems like you're doing a superb job of that on your own, Eli!"
Ohhh. So that's what he was saying. Totally ridiculous.
And Mom's right. He is taking care of that all on his own.
Eli didn't seem to agree with her, however, because as soon as he laid eyes upon her he exhales gruffly before remarking, "Oh ho! Of course! I do not expect you to see the public damage this could do or has already done to 'your daughter!' Or the fact that these clothes were not purchased at some thrift store, thank you kindly!"
I could sense yet another sibling-type brawl growing on the horizon between the two, and so I'd taken it upon myself to appropriately intervene. . . by whistling quite loudly (which I'm once again confident that Eli did not appreciate, since this act was also most likely viewed as "ill-mannered" or whatever).
"Hey!!Cool it, please! Mom, I'm all right, and yes, Ms. Wojick let me out of detention early -- Well, she'd canceled it altogether, actually," I began to explain, raising both of my arms up into the air. "And I'm like this because of Hay Lin and her art club project. Just got too excited to see me, hugged me without thinking and this is the end result. And as for the 'public damage,' Eli, I'd thought of that, thanks, when I'd put on my jacket before leaving the school building!"
After hearing this clarification, both Eli and Mom's bodies seemed to relax a little bit, although their faces remained scrunched up in tensity.
"W-well. . . all right, then. I suppose things like this just happen. We'll just. . . see if we can't get this dry cleaned so that your uncle will no longer be upset, okay?" Mom gently suggested, placing a hand upon my shoulder. "I was in one of the kitchens just now, and was about to make you something to eat to keep within the refrigerator until you'd come. . . home at four. Want to come keep me company?"
I admittedly appreciated the offer, since I was kind of hungry and thought that it would have been nice to get away from Eli at that moment.
But food as well as a reprieve would just have to wait.
I still had my mission to complete.
"Uh. . . maybe later, Mom, because right now I'd like my dear, sweet uncle to explain to me why he never bothered to pass mention to his three daughters!!"
There. I'd dropped the bomb, and had successfully blown this infernal man completely out of the water.
Sucks that he didn't seem too guilt-ridden or, at the very least, surprised, though. Just slowly raised a bejeweled hand to his face and softly sighed. Mom, on the other hand, was definitely taken aback and then some, as her dark blue eyes nearly bulged clear out of their sockets at the same time she'd sharply sucked in her breath.
"What? How could you not tell me that you have children, Elisud? Or, moreover, that I have nieces whom I've never known??" Mom asked in outrage, moving forward from her place next to me in confrontation.
"'God has given you one face, and you make yourself another,' sister," Eli countered without missing a beat, both his and Mom's selfsame eyes meeting within silent argument.
Mom may have understood what the hell her brother had just said yet again (since, after staring him down for a few more seconds, her face softened a bit before she looked away), but I sure didn't.
"Who cares, okay?? Just answer Mom's question! Why didn't you say anything?" I asked heatedly, growing more and more intolerant.
Eli (finally) looked surprised.
"Oh? You are actually bothered by this? Is it because you wish to bond with your relatives as soon as possible?"
I scoffed, a bit too grandly, at this (despite the fact that a tiny smidgen of me had related to some truth within his claim).
"Tch! That's not what I meant! I want to know why you've put me through this nightmare in the first place, when you have three -- not just one, but three other royal chicks to take my place as next in line to the Marsilian throne!!"
". . .I see," Eli said delicately, as though not having expected to hear this. "Well, to be truthful --"
"-- Which would be a first," I tactfully interrupted, folding my arms across my painted chest. (I swear. My entire family, myself included, regrettably, should totally open up some sort of business chain that will teach people how to flawlessly lie on a regular basis. We'd have it made, sadly.)
"As I was saying. . . Although they are, of course, frequently featured within the media as I too am -- and have been especially now that your identity has been released -- I had taken a good stake amount of confidence within the knowledge that neither you nor your mother would have learned of my daughters' existence until I'd wanted you to," Eli revealed with an unfaltering air, shifting his gaze away from Mom, onto me and then back again.
I didn't say anything, and neither did my mother. I suppose it was because we were both fully aware of the legitimacy of his words.
After a few moments of letting everything sink in had passed, I cleared my throat and tried to say, as calmly as I could, "So. . . what? You admit to being sneaky, then. You knew that I wouldn't have gone along with any of this if I was ever aware of -- What are their names, anyway?"
"Firstly, I will admit to a bit of. . . 'creative thinking' on my part. However I'd only done so, not to hurt nor mislead you, but to ensure that you would have given being a princess and our law a respectable chance. Because the fact of the matter is, you, Wilhelmina, are still the legitimate heir to the throne. So it wouldn't matter whether or not I had children," he said a bit callously. He seemed to have realized this, because he swiftly cleared his throat after blinking for a few moments. "Anyhow, your cousins' names are Princess Mara, Princess Étaín, and Princess Roice."
When I didn't say anything (because I was interested to hear more), Eli seemed to take the hint and added, "And I will tell you all that you wish to know of them, but after you have cleaned up and have completed your lesson."
I'd definitely objected to this, because in light of these recent turn of events, I didn't feel I ever needed to learn another princess lesson ever again. Well, no. I'd started to object to this, before my brain kicked in and recalled that, even if I reject the throne (which again, I plan to, more than ever now, believe me), the media will still be on my tail to know why and other general matters just because I'm still a princess, regardless.
And since I was aware of today's lesson topic and that it dealt with how to handle the paparazzi and other social pariah, I merely gave a loud scoff and muttered a quick "Fine" before turning to leave the study.
Mom, meanwhile, seemed pretty surprised at how well I was suddenly taking things and how submissive I was, and hesitated to take her leave, as well. When I'd noticed this and then asked her what was the matter, she said that she was admittedly too upset to be able to concentrate on the upcoming royal lesson, and would just have to read the details from my Royal Time Log later on.
And then that's when she'd at last turned and left to go back towards the direction of the kitchens. Most likely to cook or, even more likely, to bake, as she tends to do that when she's really mad.
This is what irked me even further, myself.
Because how come she gets to be exempt from the lesson and I can't be? She was supposed to join me so she could get her refresher course on how to be more media savvy, remember??
Hello??
So not fair.
Fine. I'll let it slide. . .
So, after my shower and change of clothes (that had been apparently picked and laid out for me on my bed, either by Eli or some unseen maid or whomever, I don't know. Just do know that they also weren't bad looking. But, again. Don't say anything to Eli about that), I went out to my stupid second lesson.
Here we go (with aftereffect commentary yet again):
Tuesday, November 7th
Princess Wilhelmina's Royal Lesson II
Primary Lesson Agenda: Effective Media Navigation
4 pm. - 6 pm.
Media Prowess with Emin Evgar
And I have to be tested on this, too. (At least Eli was "nice" enough to postpone my official test on my premiere lesson for the end of the week. He said he hadn't planned on waiting so long to quiz me, but given that everything has just been so chaotic lately he thought it best to give me a bit more time to "adjust and prepare." How "generous.")
Two hours of hearing and learning nothing but how to either get the media on my side, keep them smartly at bay, or basically piss them off by being verbally evasive. And it's all thanks to Mr. Emin Evgar, who is apparently an accomplished journalist and frequently does reports on the kingdom of Marsily as one of his many other endeavors.
Al lI can say is, Emin must do a really great job of it, since he seems well liked by Eli and trusted enough to be the one to come to the Plaza to personally help me be better armed against other fellow reporters. I mean, he is technically the enemy, after all.
But, no. Wait. There was a catch, as well. (When is there not?) Well, not really a catch, but more like a "reward," as Eli had put it to me later during dinner, for Emin's assistance and having signed confidentiality agreement documents, Emin was promised exclusive rights to one of the first official interviews I will give as princess.
Gee, thanks so much for having agreed to that for me, before having consulted me or my mother. But, hell. What else is honestly new?
Still.
As terrifying as the prospect of having to go on television or whatever in the near future to do said interview, at least it's with someone kind of nice.
Emin, I mean. He wasn't too overbearing while instructing me, was patient and even threw in a few jokes here and there. He also wasn't that bad on the eyes, either, with his six foot-plus, muscular stature, kind and soft green eyes, tanned skin, and short, very fetching brown hair. For a dude that's probably like, thirty-something, he certainly doesn't look it.
He also kind of looks like an older Caleb. . . but that's neither here nor there.
Moving on.
Since the lesson was two hours long, and crammed with so much information, I will have to skimp out on giving every single detail to what Emin or I had said to one another (or what Eli might have said, if he wasn't silently watching in the corner while sipping his tea -- But who cares about what he had to say?) to have enough time to copy what had been written within my Royal Time Log.
Hey. I do still have homework to complete, after all:
Media and Press Management: What to Know, What to Do, and How to Do It
DEALING WITH THE PRESS
§ Know With Whom You Are Dealing §
When handling with the press and other forms of media, it is crucial to realize as well as understand that the outcome will not necessarily be what might have been intended. It is not conceivable nor possible to control the press, and trying to do so usually only results in further calamity. Therefore, it is far better to try to think in terms of merely managing it.
If contacted or confronted by a reporter, it is expected of said reporter to properly identify his or herself and also of the organization that he or she happens to represent. This act is important, because as the one being potentially interviewed, you want to be sure to have a clear and concise understanding of which media you are dealing with. (I.E. Newspaper, television.)
While being interviewed, be sure to provide responses that the reporter will be able to understand. For instance, a frequent reporter of the stock market, perhaps, will most likely have a better understanding of similar business issues more so than a fashion and entertainment reporter might. With that being said, be sure to appropriately tailor your responses. (Another thing to be aware of is the consideration of whom will be the ultimate audience of your completed interview.)
§ Building the Relationship §
The relationship you build with reporters is very important, as it is the basis of your interaction with the media. It is rather symbiotic, indeed, as the information you do or do not provide to them will help your productive, presentable image to flourish, as it does their lucrative employment.
However, these relationships take much time to effectively develop, and said time should be viewed as a long-term investment.
If you, as princess, are for example heading a newfound charity foundation that has not yet established a relationship with the local press, it would be wise to read the local publications in order to acquire the names of the reporters who would cover your specific topic. Be sure to also check out the online version of thepublication to search for articles by the same reporters to review the competency of the topic.
Another good tactic that helps the relationship grow between you and the reporter is to take note of any particular articles that might be intriguing to you. After which, be sure to contact the appropriate reporter and perhaps offer to buy him or her a cup of coffee so that you may properly introduce yourself before mentioning how you enjoyed the specific article that you had found so interesting. There is generally no risk involved when and if you do this, as often your offer will be accepted, due to the fact that good journalists are constantly on the lookout for fresh news -- They are more approachable than most believe.
Regardless, it is not good form to assume that an eventual article will result by this act. The main, true purpose of the meeting between you and the reporter is merely to begin the process of building the relationship for when and if there may be future news.
§ Declining to Comment §
In some cases, and especially as princess, you may not wish to have any press coverage. However, in the interest of maintaining a good, sound relationship, keep in mind that reporters do still expect you to answer their calls. They do not like to be ignored. Always be mindful that, if for any reason you do not wish to be interviewed, refusing to talk to them may result in a future report that cites you having refused to take their calls.
Also, taking the call but still providing no comments may then result in a report that you had 'declined to comment.' So therefore, think about whether declining to comment might be perceived negatively by the public in the particular situation. It is not always wise to refuse or to say 'no comment,' as this will give someone else the opportunity to comment instead and allow them to define the issue. It is better that you, yourself make the comment, so in that way you will be able to better define the issue instead.
Still, if you must decline and have a satisfactory relationship with the reporter, you may wish to consider informing him or her that you are unable to talk about the issue at that present time, but will suggest getting together within a few days to a few weeks time to tell all about it then.
In any case, the reporter still holds the right to say that you declined to comment.
(Now, I know I said I wasn't going to make a comment on every single thing Emin had taught me, but this part really upset me. . . and not to mention also completely tripped up my mind. Because I mean, this is basically saying that I'm always going to have to respond to the damned media, even if the topic is tremendously embarrassing and I wish to forget all about it for all eternity. Like the H.B.F., for instance, you know? So not fair, I'm telling you. Curse you, vile media.)
§ Terms of Engagement §
Before deciding to talk to the reporter, be sure to have an astute understanding of the rules of engagement. Also understand that a reporter's main objective within his or her profession is to find out as much as possible. You should view talking to a reporter as though speaking directly to the public. You should also always understand the context in which you are being interviewed:
● On-the-record: So long as the reporter actually identifies him or herself as a reporter (I.E. Tim Gray from The New York Age), then the assumption is that everything said and discussed will be "on the record." This means that your name and everything that you say can be reported.
● Off-the-record: In some cases, the interview or at least part of it may be "off-the-record." This meaning is less precise, and so therefore should not be assumed that you might have the same understanding of it as the reporter. At times, off-the-record might mean that your name will not be disclosed, while in other times it might mean that you will not be quoted. It is a strong idea toclarify what 'off-the-record' means if there is any doubt. When and if you provide information that is not to be quoted, the reporter should then put down any writing instruments and/or turn off any tape recorder. This action serves as a signal that the reporter acknowledges the off-record status of the comment, in addition to reducing the chance that an off-the-record comment will be published accidentally.
● Background information: "For background only" refers to the information that you provide is simply to educate the reporter.Be sure to clarify with the reporter to what extent the source will be revealed. (I.E. Rather than using your name, the reporter may attribute the information to "a charity foundation executive.")
Also, you may wish to tape the interview if it will cover some sensitive topics. Do get the consent of the reporter before doing so, however. If you are concerned about being misquoted, you can ask the reporter to read back any quotes before they are published. In most cases, he or she will do so if you ask and if he or she has the time. However, do not expect the reporter to show you the completed story before it is run -- Some sources would want to edit everything if they viewed it before publication, and so in the interest of professionalism, most reporters will not show the story beforehand.
Misquotes may also be a concern, but that is a risk that you will take when and if you agree to being interviewed. You can try to manage the process in order to minimize errors and also to capture whatever it is you might be representing within the best light, but do not attempt to control the process. Reporters generally like to feel independent and do not like to be pushed or manipulated.
There are times too when what is eventually published might have been taken out of context. You should be very conscientious of everything you say as well as realize that it could very well be taken out of context. Be especially careful about making a joke, for it may become the headline. If a mistake is made, however, you can ask for a timely publication of a correction, but by this time most of the damage already would have been done.
If you feel that there is a serious error, it might be a good idea to set up a meeting with the reporter and editor to discuss it further.
§ Newspapers §
Newspapers tend to be reporter-driven organizations. On occasion, editors will suggest a story, however most ideas come from the reporters. Therefore, your prominent relationships will be with the reporters who cover stories related to your topic. If a reporter thinks that something might be newsworthy, he or she will convince the editor to let him or her cover it.
§Contacting the Press §
When contacting the press with a specific news item, do be aware of the deadlines (which may arrive sooner than you anticipate). Make sure that the names of the people as well as their titles are up-to-date, in addition. In the event that you might contact a former reporter who now is performing some other job function, your message may be ignored, so be mindful of keeping up-to-date references.
(So, the moral of the story to all of this is, take up residency underneath a rock and never reemerge again.)
6 pm. - 6:15 pm.
Fifteen Minute Recess
Lousy fifteen minutes. But it was better than nothing, because my mind was beginning to turn into a very much bowl of Tapioca Pudding. And I was growing hungry all over again, even though the lemon water that had been set out for me and Emin while he continued to instruct me helped to slightly fill up my stomach.
But then again, it'd also helped to fill up my bladder.
So, the first thing I did once Eli announced that we would all adjourn for the fifteen minutes was rush to the closest bathroom.
Afterwards, since my stomach was starting to rumble and my head was lightly throbbing from mixed fatigue and information overload, I ventured towards one of the kitchens. But the distinct smell of chocolate chip cookies was beckoning me towards the opposite direction of where I was headed (in spite of the other delectable scents of roasted chicken and other meats wafting into the air from the first kitchen ahead of me).
So, mouth watering, I went towards the second kitchen, and found my mother, hovered over one of the two sinks and surrounded by mountains of various baked goods.
"Someone must be pretty pissed off," I said with faint sarcasm, entering the kitchen and closing the door behind me. Mom swiftly turned around and gasped with a start at this, before immediately swirling back around and using the peach colored apron tied around her waist for her face.
I instantly felt a bit bad for having taken my teasing sort of tone with her then, since I had been able to catch sight of her eyes and saw that they were once again bloodshot. Clearly, she had been cryingyet again, and was now using the apron to wipe away the evidence before I could see.
If it were a contest to see which one of us could cry more, I think that my mom might win, because lately that's all I ever see her do -- Well, the aftermath, anyway, if she's not upset with Eli and arguing with him or trying her best to appease me.
And she's not even the one who has the most pressure between the two of us as princesses, either.
If she keeps this up, though, she'll tempt me even further to drop my grudge against her and try to comfort whatever her problem is.
Anyway, I just decided to pretend that I hadn't taken notice of her teary eyes (even though they were still pretty red, regardless) as I walked over to the nearest counter to take a seat and a cookie off of the plate closest to me.
"O-oh! W-Will! Sweetheart! Done with your lesson already? How was it?" Mom asked as casually and unaffected as she could manage, forcing a weak, shaky smile upon her tawny face while looking at me.
"Pfft! I wish I were finished with my lesson," I said with a scoff after taking a generous bite of the still warm, moist treat, succeeding in causing several bits of it to fly out of my mouth in the process. "No. Your magnanimous brother only gave me fifteen minutes of downtime before I have get back to continue it or whatever. But at least that Emin guy seems to know what he's talking about with teaching 'Press Dealing 101.'"
Mom's barely visible smile grew a bit more at this, which honestly did make me feel a bit better to have seen. (I'm guessing that our reconciliation is fast approaching at this rate.)
"Oh, is that right? Well, then remind me to thank this. . . Emin fellow for his assistance in preparing my daughter for properly defending herself against parasitic paparazzi in the near future," she remarked, moving over to the rather large, fancy looking fridge. "Oh. Sorry. . . Sensitive subject, I know. I was just never all that fond of the media, myself, when I. . . well, you know."
I tried my best to hold in the heavy exhale that was rapidly rising within my chest and yearning to escape my lips upon hearing this, because I knew it'd most likely only make my mother feel worse than she obviously did already.
Annoyed with her still, yes I am.
But all of this current drama and such isn't really her fault, you know? Sure, she'd birthed me, brought me into this "destiny" as princess and never once bothered to tell me about that for seventeen years. And even if (or when, rather, I guess I might as well admit) I manage to make up with her about that, I still won't ever forget it or entirely forgive her for it.
However, the one thing I do know for sure is that she and I share the wretchedness her brother bestows upon us religiously in common. And his having grown up to become some power-hungry psycho also isn't her fault.
So. . . what I guess I'm trying to say here is. . . I will make a conscious effort to save the majority of my future choler just for Eli alone, and not direct it at Mom anymore.
There! Happy, now, you blasted softhearted emotions of mine?? That's the most you will get out of me for now, because I'm just not completely ready to cuddle up with her and be all "Mommy-Daughter"-ish again just yet.
Hey, what can I say? Misery loves company. (Yeah, I know. I can be very bad when I choose to be. . . and also pretty confusing and contradicting, too, as I look over what I'd just written. Hmm. . . Oh, well! It's late, and I'm sleepy. Deal with it.)
Anyhow, back to the kitchen, cookies, and my melancholy mother.
I lightly bit down onto my tongue to help squelch the sigh that I was about to emit at that moment, just as Mom had closed the refrigerator door with a large pitcher of milk in hand.
"Uh. . . right. Well, I suppose you'll have to suck it up like me and just deal, since you are and will be back within the spotlight for some time now," I said with a lazy wave of my half eaten cookie, saying a quick "thank you" after my mom had poured me a tall glass of the liquid dairy product for me. "But at least you can read up on the notes that's being written within my time log thingie to brush up on your former know-how."
Mom didn't say anything for a while after this. At first I thought it was because she might have been growing more and more upset and I'd offended her in some way. But then, once her body and facial features began to relax tremendously, I'd swiftly dismissed the notion.
She smiled warmly, continuing to gaze upon me while I ate the rest of my cookie and stared back at her expectantly, before moving over to me to place a tender kiss atop my head.
Now this, I hadn't been expecting, and nearly choked upon the last of my treat as a result.
"W-what? What'd I do??" I asked stupidly, looking up at her with a perplexed expression upon my face as she backed away a bit.
"Nothing, silly. I'm just. . . just really happy to have you in my life, that's all," Mom replied wholeheartedly, the simper upon her face growing stronger.
I raised an eyebrow at this.
"Uhhh. . . eeeyeah. Only for seventeen years now, Mom," I said sarcastically, although managing to make a faint smile accompany it.
"Well, of course! What I mean is, I'm just blessed to have such a strong willed young woman for my daughter," my mother continued, renewed tears forming within her eyes. "I suppose I never truly realized this before now. . ."
Well, wasn't that nice. I mean, a bit discouraging to find out that it's only now that my mom had completely taken notice of what I am and am not capable of, but still. Kinda nice. Also kinda after school special too, but nice.
Maybe Mom's about to get a visit from her "Aunt Flo" or has already, if you know what I mean.
Either way. . . those fifteen minutes alone in the kitchen with my mother and not having been bothered by anything or anyone else for the time being was. . . just like old times, before royal duties, protocol and the stress of it all.
And in those mere fifteen minutes, for the first time in a very long time, I'd honestly felt like. . . "home," and that everything was going to be all right. . .
6:15 pm. - 8:15 pm.
Effective Public Communication Mastery with Min Wen
Now this part of the lesson I wasn't too irked about (You know, having to go back to continue my lesson and stuff), but mainly because it gave me some pretty good insight and ideas for my ten minute speech for my Public Speaking class.
I'm thinking that I'm definitely going to give Miss Min Wen a call to help me with it alongside Ryan, for sure.
Every little bit helps, right?
Profound Verbal and Non-Verbal Communication Skills
§ Communication Skills: What Your Body Language Really Says About You §
It is not always what you say that makes the greatest impression or most difference, but what you yourself exude as an individual. The following guidelines are sure to help effectively transform yourself into a confident, captivating and engaging public speaker:
(Good, because I'll otherwise need a miracle to manage that, because every single thing listed I either cannot do for long, or do not do at all)
● Walk in confidently. Your entrance is all an act and your performance starts from the minute you stand up or walk into the room. Grab their attention straight away by giving off an air of confidence.
● Stand up straight. Posture is key.
● Keep your head held high.
● Make eye contact with your audience. Doing so further engages said audience, keeps their attention and makes you appear more convincing.
- ALSO-
● Do not stand or sit with your weight to one side or legs crossed. Doing so will give the impression of being imbalanced, which can lead to your audience subconsciously thinking that you are unsure of yourself and what you are saying. As a lady of nobility, it is wise, if seated, to drape one leg behind the other. This position exudes grace, elegance and ennoblement.
● Do not lean into or slightly over the podium or hold your notes tightly. This can make you appear to be nervous and unconvincing.
● Do 'visual sweeps.' This act involves looking all round the room, into the furthest corners and to the front row and back again. Catching people's eyes for a few seconds will keep them interested and listening.
● Do emphasis your point and use tone and gestures. This will help captivate your audience and convince them that you as speaker know what you are talking about. (Helpful Trick: If you want the audience to agree with whatever it is you are speaking about, open your arms in an expansive gesture. This act grants an inviting ambiance about you. Also, a downward gesture, such as tapping the podium or downward shake of a loosely closed palmwill reinforce the point you wish to get across.)
● Do vary the speed and rhythm of your voice. A monotonous voice will bore the audience and thus swiftly lose their attention. So allow your voice to rise and fall naturally during the delivery and try to inject enthusiasm and emotion into your voice to convey the point.
● Do keep the delivery of your speech strong and captivating all the way to the end. Keep your voice slow and strong! Don't be tempted to speed up as you approach the end of your speech.
● Do finish your speech with a hand outstretched 'over to you' gesture and a smile. This indicates to your audience that you've finished speaking and that you expect a positive response from your audience.
My God, am I ever going to need to work overtime with all of this! I mean, what part of this equation don't you people get?
Will Vandom + Talking in Public to Millions of People equals VERY BAD.
Have you seen me do my speeches at school? I never emphasize my point. I never vary the speed and rhythm of my voice. And I most definitely never make eye contact with anyone in my class!
Here's my list of "do's and don't's:"
● Don't vary the speed and rhythm of your voice. Just babble your ass off until you've made it to the very end of your speech.
● Don't make eye contact. Doing so will only increase the nausea you already feel to be up there in the first place, and make you run the risk of hurling your cookies all over the podium and anyone with the misfortune to be sitting within the front row.
● Never take any Public Speaking course for as long as you'll live. This will make your life a whole lot easier.
I think it's safe to say that my list wins, hands down, don't you agree?
8:15 pm. - 9:15 pm.
Supper with King Elisud and Honored Guests, Emin Evgar and Min Wen
That word bothers me, now that I think about it. "Supper," I mean. It just sounds so goofy and. . . old.
Like Eli.
So I guess it fits, then.
I remember asking my mother the difference once when I was younger, and she said something about how "dinner" is considered to be when you eat between three to six o'clock in the afternoon. (You know, when old people do, no disrespect.) And then "supper" is when you eat between six to nine o'clock in the evening.
Either way, it's stupid to me. Who cares what you call it? You're eating regardless, right? And I doubt it'd offend anyone to call a meal you ate at eight o'clock "dinner" instead. Then again, it most definitely would offend stupid Eli and every other royal guest he'd invite and I was present to say so.
Whatever.
Why was I talking about this? Must be because my mind is deteriorating. That is, I've absolutely hit the wall and dead on my feet right now, even though I'm lying down on "my" bed as I write this. And I still have yet to complete my homework, and it's nearly midnight.
We can certainly rule out a full night's sleep yet again tonight then, huh?
But back to "supper time."
The meal, yet again, was fantastic, and with the added spice that was my hunger I was practically scarfing it down, regardless of the fact that this time around there were more people present (like my mom, Emin and Min) or the unimpressed looks Eli kept giving me from across the table.
"Ah. . . ahem! I daresay that Princess Wilhelmina is rather. . . famished! Wouldn't you say so, Princess?" he asked with a forced smile, trying to hide his flustered nature while Emim and Min both gave polite, genuine smiles of their own in acknowledgment.
I didn't bother to answer. Didn't have to, thankfully, since Emim, such a cutie, cleared his throat and said, "Well, if I may say so, Your Majesty, I myself have been rather prone to 'lose it,' if you will, on days when I have worked so hard and finally have eaten a home-cooked meal."
Thank you, Sir Handsome Emim. I shall knight thee my official Eye candy once I am queen.
9:15 pm. – 10 pm.
Dessert and Coffee with King Elisud and Honored Guests Emin Evgar and Min Wen
Guess who got to sit next to Mr. Evgar? Yep. Admittedly the highlight of my vigorous evening. Even found myself a bit shamelessly giggling at some of the things he'd say, too. Screw it if it wasn't "princess-like" of me to do, but the guy really is handsome.
I mean, I could just really be attracted to him because he really does look like an older Caleb, but I'm also almost eighteen.
Hint, hint.
Yeah, right. Even if I were really serious about that, like Mom would ever let me date a man who's around fifteen years or so my senior. Or Eli, for that matter, even though he's not my father.
They'd both have aneurysms.
And speaking of Mom again, even though when I'd left her earlier today she seemed to be doing better, at neither dinner (Oh, excuse me, supper) nor dessert. . . Oooh, wait. Let's talk about dessert, first.
The actual dishes, I mean.
This time they were dishes that were in further honor to our guests. The first was some Baklava, a pastry that's made of layers of this flaky, thin sheet dough which is either filled with chopped walnuts or pistachios before sweetened with syrup or honey.
It wasn't that bad. Was slightly too sweet for my taste, but mainly because my piece seemed to have been soaked within the honey longer than anyone else's or something. I would have loved to have fed it to Emin, though (who said this was one of his most favorite dessert dishes).
Oh, wow. Did I just say that aloud, or written, rather? Insert-monstrous-blush-here.
Uh. . . yeah.
And then after that was a small serving of mango ice cream had been brought out, which was even better than the Baklava. Never had this before, either, but I'm glad that I had. Min could seem to tell I hadn't, and said that maybe one day she'll make me some, homemade.
I mean, this one had also been made fresh, but Min said that her mother, before she'd died, had given her a special secret recipe that she would love to share with me.
I'd thought that was really touching and sweet, especially since it was something obviously considered sacred and treasured from a loved one. . .
All right. Back to Mom.
Our kitchen break together didn't seem to comfort her for long, because she was acting like a zombie all throughout dinner and dessert, only briefly smiling or offering quick replies here and there whenever either Emin or Min would politely and respectfully engage her.
I'm sure this less-than-princess-like behavior annoyed Eli to have witnessed, but what can you do? I suppose this is just going to be my mother's newfound personality in regard to everything from now on.Or, maybe she was just fine, but purposefully acted that way because she knew that it'd bother her brother.
If that's the case, I'm going to have to say a resounding "rock on" to that.
Alas, this is all up to debate, and is merely my observation and presumption.
10 pm. - 11 pm.
Review of second princess lesson
Same as the first lesson. Went over what I'd learned during this second lesson before Emin and Min were escorted out of the suite by Eli, just as Mom had retired to her bedroom for the remainder of the evening, having cited a migraine as the cause. (Mmhmm.)
When he'd returned, he told me how he hopes that not only has the first lesson sunk in for my and "our" kingdom's sake, but this lesson especially, so that it will "spare yourself the embarrassment for saying or doing something you will most assuredly regret at a later date. But we will see whether or not you have retained anything once I have tested you at the next lesson, of course."
This guy is so asking to get slapped.
And then, because I was thinking and fantasizing about doing so, that's when I'd brought up his daughters again. (You know, because I had grown irritated with him all over again and stuff, and the familiar emotional relation had made me remember them.)
"Because I did your stupid lesson as you'd asked and had 'played nice' with my instructors and all that, as was part of the 'deal,'" I reminded him as he was about to leave me for the rest of the night (which I always welcome, of course). "Now, tell me more about your daughters and why I honestly should do another thing more that you say."
At this, I could briefly catch Eli's body tense up, although not really in aggravation. At least, that's not how I'd perceived it, honestly. It was more so as though the topic was a sensitive one.
But I didn't get why, because it was already brought up and spoken about earlier that same day. . . although, now that I think on it, he had seemed a bit tender to the subject during that time, as well.
Whatever.
Regardless, Eli turns around, looks at me with suddenly tired eyes before saying with a small, tight smile, "Wilhelmina, while I am aware of what I had. . . more or less 'promised' you earlier, I am going to have to ask that it wait until the morning -- Or, after you've returned from school, rather, perhaps. It is late, and I must retire for the evening for my press conference in the morning to do a bit of. . . 'damage control,' if you will, for my regrettable outburst during your swim meet yesterday. I am sorry for that, I will say. . ."
Whoa.
Did Eli just actually not only admit to being wrong, but had taken responsibility for his crazy actions AND apologized for it??
And to ME??
Wow.Now I'm scared.
He must have sensed my honest alarm, because next he goes, "Yes. I have apologized. I am certain this comes as some unnecessary shock to you, Wilhelmina. However, I am not an unreasonable man, after all."
Right.
"Anyhow, since it is clear to me now that I will be barred from going any further with you in regards to your princess preparations as they were, I will display my compromising, generous nature by striking a true deal with you."
This peaked my intrigue.
"'True deal?' What deal? And will I even like it? And why are you avoiding the subject of talking about my cousins?" I asked, one question right after the other without much breath or space in between.
"I think that you will at least give it some thought, yes, and I am most certainly not avoiding discussing about my dear children -- Your cousins," Eli responded with a tired sigh and air of slight offense to the notion. "There is simply far too much to hammer out in their regard in just one day -- And again, as I'd said, it is too late within the evening to do so. Anyhow, while there are technically four potential princesses altogether who can ascend the throne after I have eventually stepped down, you alone are still recognized by Marsilian law and its citizens as its true future rule as I have already stated --Numerous times, I might add. That cannot be changed. However, being that you so clearly wish to make this entire transition as well as process abundantly difficult for all involved no matter what. . . I will offer up this deal: Up until the day of your eighteenth birthday -- January 19th, as it is to my understanding -- you will no longer give me grief over how you do not wish to be Marsily's future queen. You will abide by any and all advisement I bestow upon you, as well as attend every last princess lesson."
I was speechless. Was he actually giving me. . . an out?
I didn't have time to think on that, because Eli continued.
"Yes. Of course, it had been my hope that all of this would have been taken care of and you would have fallen into the groove of things, if you will, well before having found out about your cousins -- and then therefore take on the mentality that you currently possess. However, what is done is done. You and I are both far too old for such steady quarrels that regularly manifest between the two of us -- As well as too noble, at that. So there it is. My offer."
Pausing a moment to mull everything over, I slowly licked my lips before speaking.
". . .And then what? On and after my birthday. . . I can just stop all of this and tell you that I quit -- which I am going to, by the way? That I'm not going to be the official queen or whatever?" I cautiously asked, for the first time feeling a bit hopeful that this catastrophe would finally end.
Eli didn't seem to share within my growing delight, however, for he simply let out a heavy exhale, his face falling a bit.
". . .This. . . is what I am saying, yes. As I've said, it is evident, and painfully so, that I cannot force you to rule our country, even if the truth of your birthright is apparent to all. But, make no mistake. You are still a princess and so shall you remain until the end of your days. And, once more, now that the entire world knows of your existence, you will not be able to escape the celebrity status that comes with it. . . even if you choose to escape your destiny," he trailed off with another, even more hollow sigh, before ushering forth a quick "goodnight" from his lips that was barely audible.
And then he left the room.
CAN YOU BELIEVE IT????
I think I might actually be free!!
No more "you have to rule!!"
I totally knew that I wouldn't have to! I knew it!
I mean, my mom hadn't, and she's the first born between she and Eli. And I just knew that I wouldn't have to, either (even though I hadn't been aware of my trio of cousins who could fill in for me during a time when I'd thought that there wasn't anyone to do so beforehand)!
Goodbye caged prison that is my "duty to the crown" or whatever!
Hello good ol' freedom!!
I mean, it still sucks that my life won't truly be normal ever again (negating the lack of normality it'd already possessed due to being a Guardian of the Veil, of course) for all of the reasons that Eli had said, what with the whole planet knowing who I am and stuff.
But I think that if Mom could have managed to have camped out in peace for the last few decades, then so can I. . . even if I'm also now living within the advanced technological age, where information can spread like wildfire within seconds.
But who cares??
I'm freeeee!!!!
I cannot wait to tell the girls tomorrow!! They're gonna be so psyched! Especially since I won't have to quit being a Guardian or something anymore, either.
I think it's safe to say that life is finally starting to look up.
--
End of Chapter Thirty Four
(A.N. Gasp. Another "twist?" Go, fig. LoL I hadn't really really intended to end it this way or make it be like PD with that whole compromise that Clarisse had made with Mia in the movie and stuff on whether or not she'll choose to ascend the throne of Genovia and blah blah. But then again, it's also not REALLY really like that, either, so...okay. LoL I JUST know that I have a billion more twists and turns before this bad boy's finished, lemme tell ya. LoL I hate this chapter. LoL That came out of no where. LoL Anyway, and I know that someone's gonna be like, "What about the cousins? I want to know more!" No worries! That's the next chapter, trust. Just didn't want to put it in this one because this ending was better. Uh...what else. Oh! Several things! Please go to my profile, and read the recent updates I've made in regard to this story, such as the forum thread I've created for assistance in creating a soundtrack to this story. See the very last link at the bottom of my profile for that, and to suggest tracks YOU think would go good with this story or person within the story. Thanx! Oh, right. And Eli and what he'd said in French and stuff. I'm more fluent in French of the several other languages I can speak than I am in Greek, so if mistakes had been made on the Greek end, sowies. My 'rents are French, not Greek. LoL Anyway, Prime Minister Kyriaki does not exist. Made him up out of respect to the real/current Prime Minister, Konstantínos Alexandrou Karamanlís. Anyhow, Eli had merely said – with other things being said on the other end, of course, hence the pauses -- "Excuse me. . . Yes. . . Yes. . . Thank you. . . Goodnight." And then in French while yelling at Will, he'd essentially said, "Damn it! What is this?? Ohh, my God! You want me to go crazy!! It's true!!" Just a little funny moment for ya, there. LoL Well, I always laugh anyway, whenever one or both of my 'rents start ranting in other languages. LoL)