Another note: Okay. Let me clear a few things up here. First off, I actually rather liked the movie and book. I simply didn't like the way it was done, and decided that I could do it better. Whether my version is in fact better is up to you, the reader, to decide. And this story IS related. By the way, I'm going with the version where the father is dead, since that was the version I experienced first.
"A revolution? Me?"
Queenie nodded solemnly. "Na Mersu, our intelligence agency, is woefully inept. Otherwise, I wouldn't have bothered you."
"What does NAMERSU stand for?"
"It doesn't stand for anything. It means "all-seeing" in Lechan, the indigenous language of Genovia."
"Do you guys speak Lechan?"
"French, mainly. Some of the peasants up in the mountains still speak it." Queenie looked at her watch. "Your half-sister Mia is going to be here in a few minutes. Please do not discuss this with her."
"I won't," I promised.
The door slammed. "Grandmere, I'm here!" shouted someone.
Queenie rolled her eyes and gave a regal little sigh of disgust. "Come in, dear," she called, in high, fluting, accented tones much different from the sharp, unadorned voice she had been using with me.
A girl entered the room. I scanned her.
Private school, obviously. I could tell by the uniform. She didn't seem to be too popular. Popular girls always wore makeup, and she wasn't. Even just the way she stood, heels out, toes in, told me that she was totally unaccustomed to people noticing her.
Peoplewatching is a skill I've had a long time to develop.
She barely took notice of me. "What are we going to do today, Grandmere?"
I smiled brightly and held out my hand. "Hi. I'm Rachel."
She stared at me in disgust. "Um, who are you?" I could deal with the disgust. A sheltered thing like her would naturally have not had a lot of contact with lowlifes like me.
Queenie cleared her throat. "This is Rachelle Winston."
Mia game me a false, ephemeral smile. "Great to meet you."
"Rachelle, this is Mia Thermopolis, Princess of Genovia. You are directly under her, as you are a duchess."
A duchess?
Mia set her books down on the upholstered chair. While she was busy with this, I whispered to Queenie, "A duchess? But my dad was a prince."
"I plan on telling Mia that you are her cousin," Queenie told me. "I think that would be easier for her to deal with. Besides, in the Genovian monarchy, there can only be one prince and one princess. If Mia dies, you would take over. You're like a spare princess."
"But I'm the eldest," I protested.
"Yes, but you are also illegitimate." Which was a good point.
"When did you find her?" Mia asked Queenie, ignoring me.
"Just found out today," I said.
"Which is why she has a lot of catching up to do," Queenie added. "You're progressing quite well, Mia. Instead of me teaching you, why don't you help Rachelle."
"But I hardly know anything yet," Mia protested.
"Then you can watch," Queenie snapped. Mia sulked and plopped herself next to her bookbag.
Satine came out bearing more tea and some brownies. "I just baked these," she murmured.
Mia grabbed a brownie and a cup and proceeded to stuff her face while Queenie looked on in horror. "A princess does not eat like a pig," she said.
I took a brownie and bit off a corner, keeping my eyes locked on Satine's. I closed my eyes and swallowed it with a sigh of ecstasy, slowly licking my lips to catch the crumbs. Then I started sucking on the bitten corner, letting my tongue flick out just a little bit.
Satine almost dropped her tray.
"Watch how Rachelle eats her brownie," Queenie lectured. "She takes little bites and *savors* it."
"She was *sucking* on it," Mia pointed out.
I shrugged. "Well, it's good chocolate." I raised my eyebrows at Satine, who blushed and hurried into the kitchen.
"Let's see how you would walk through a crowd," Queenie said.
I placed my brownie on a tray and demonstrated the strut I had developed for walking through the halls and the streets at night. Head held high, not looking at anything except for straight in front of you, large quick steps like you're in a hurry but you're taking your time. When you walk like this, paper airplanes miss your head, Scotch-taped "KICK ME" signs won't stick to your backpack, jocks get out of your way, and freshmen ask you for directions.
Queenie applauded delicately. "Bravo, and without any lessons either. Mia?"
Mia got up, shooting me a resentful look, and crossed the room with a stride that made her look like a teacher trying to break up two kids in a knife fight.
"Good," Queenie approved.
After a long afternoon of being polite and flirting with the maid, I headed back to the shelter. Queenie had offered to let me stay at the embassy, but I wanted to get my stuff.
I arrived just in time to see a body being carried out to an ambulance on a stretcher.
I pushed my way to the front of the crowd. "What the hell happened? Somebody tell me what happened."
"Johanna got in a fight with her ex-boyfriend," someone said. "He had a gun."
My heart stopped. Johanna dead?
I raced to the stretcher and looked under the sheet. It *was* Johanna.
I let the sheet fall. I couldn't believe it. This was the girl who, just this morning, had given me an orgasm before breakfast and then broke the nose of a guy who tried to feel me up.
A paramedic peered into my face. "You know her?"
"She's my sister," I lied. "We were staying here after our mom kicked us out." Tears started to well up in my eyes. I wiped them away.
He patted me on the shoulder. "Why don't you ride in the ambulance with your sister?"
They didn't do much to try to save her. The medic gave her a few jolts from the defillibrators, then just shrugged. "Nope. Sorry."
I was aghast. "That's it? That's all you can do?"
"Under the penniless-chick-off-the-street health plan, yeah. If she was covered, it'd be a different story."
I got an idea. "My grandmother is the Queen of Genovia. If you can save Johanna, she will reward you handsomely."
The medic peered at me in disbelief. "I'm sure."
I fell to the floor and started begging. "I swear to God she is. Look!" I showed him the pendant.
"You could have stolen that."
"With the security around the embassy? Not likely. PLEASE do something. I don't want her to die."
The medic sighed and gave Johanna another shock. Nothing. "It won't work anyway. The bullets went through her head."
"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THAT?!"
"You didn't ask."
"A revolution? Me?"
Queenie nodded solemnly. "Na Mersu, our intelligence agency, is woefully inept. Otherwise, I wouldn't have bothered you."
"What does NAMERSU stand for?"
"It doesn't stand for anything. It means "all-seeing" in Lechan, the indigenous language of Genovia."
"Do you guys speak Lechan?"
"French, mainly. Some of the peasants up in the mountains still speak it." Queenie looked at her watch. "Your half-sister Mia is going to be here in a few minutes. Please do not discuss this with her."
"I won't," I promised.
The door slammed. "Grandmere, I'm here!" shouted someone.
Queenie rolled her eyes and gave a regal little sigh of disgust. "Come in, dear," she called, in high, fluting, accented tones much different from the sharp, unadorned voice she had been using with me.
A girl entered the room. I scanned her.
Private school, obviously. I could tell by the uniform. She didn't seem to be too popular. Popular girls always wore makeup, and she wasn't. Even just the way she stood, heels out, toes in, told me that she was totally unaccustomed to people noticing her.
Peoplewatching is a skill I've had a long time to develop.
She barely took notice of me. "What are we going to do today, Grandmere?"
I smiled brightly and held out my hand. "Hi. I'm Rachel."
She stared at me in disgust. "Um, who are you?" I could deal with the disgust. A sheltered thing like her would naturally have not had a lot of contact with lowlifes like me.
Queenie cleared her throat. "This is Rachelle Winston."
Mia game me a false, ephemeral smile. "Great to meet you."
"Rachelle, this is Mia Thermopolis, Princess of Genovia. You are directly under her, as you are a duchess."
A duchess?
Mia set her books down on the upholstered chair. While she was busy with this, I whispered to Queenie, "A duchess? But my dad was a prince."
"I plan on telling Mia that you are her cousin," Queenie told me. "I think that would be easier for her to deal with. Besides, in the Genovian monarchy, there can only be one prince and one princess. If Mia dies, you would take over. You're like a spare princess."
"But I'm the eldest," I protested.
"Yes, but you are also illegitimate." Which was a good point.
"When did you find her?" Mia asked Queenie, ignoring me.
"Just found out today," I said.
"Which is why she has a lot of catching up to do," Queenie added. "You're progressing quite well, Mia. Instead of me teaching you, why don't you help Rachelle."
"But I hardly know anything yet," Mia protested.
"Then you can watch," Queenie snapped. Mia sulked and plopped herself next to her bookbag.
Satine came out bearing more tea and some brownies. "I just baked these," she murmured.
Mia grabbed a brownie and a cup and proceeded to stuff her face while Queenie looked on in horror. "A princess does not eat like a pig," she said.
I took a brownie and bit off a corner, keeping my eyes locked on Satine's. I closed my eyes and swallowed it with a sigh of ecstasy, slowly licking my lips to catch the crumbs. Then I started sucking on the bitten corner, letting my tongue flick out just a little bit.
Satine almost dropped her tray.
"Watch how Rachelle eats her brownie," Queenie lectured. "She takes little bites and *savors* it."
"She was *sucking* on it," Mia pointed out.
I shrugged. "Well, it's good chocolate." I raised my eyebrows at Satine, who blushed and hurried into the kitchen.
"Let's see how you would walk through a crowd," Queenie said.
I placed my brownie on a tray and demonstrated the strut I had developed for walking through the halls and the streets at night. Head held high, not looking at anything except for straight in front of you, large quick steps like you're in a hurry but you're taking your time. When you walk like this, paper airplanes miss your head, Scotch-taped "KICK ME" signs won't stick to your backpack, jocks get out of your way, and freshmen ask you for directions.
Queenie applauded delicately. "Bravo, and without any lessons either. Mia?"
Mia got up, shooting me a resentful look, and crossed the room with a stride that made her look like a teacher trying to break up two kids in a knife fight.
"Good," Queenie approved.
After a long afternoon of being polite and flirting with the maid, I headed back to the shelter. Queenie had offered to let me stay at the embassy, but I wanted to get my stuff.
I arrived just in time to see a body being carried out to an ambulance on a stretcher.
I pushed my way to the front of the crowd. "What the hell happened? Somebody tell me what happened."
"Johanna got in a fight with her ex-boyfriend," someone said. "He had a gun."
My heart stopped. Johanna dead?
I raced to the stretcher and looked under the sheet. It *was* Johanna.
I let the sheet fall. I couldn't believe it. This was the girl who, just this morning, had given me an orgasm before breakfast and then broke the nose of a guy who tried to feel me up.
A paramedic peered into my face. "You know her?"
"She's my sister," I lied. "We were staying here after our mom kicked us out." Tears started to well up in my eyes. I wiped them away.
He patted me on the shoulder. "Why don't you ride in the ambulance with your sister?"
They didn't do much to try to save her. The medic gave her a few jolts from the defillibrators, then just shrugged. "Nope. Sorry."
I was aghast. "That's it? That's all you can do?"
"Under the penniless-chick-off-the-street health plan, yeah. If she was covered, it'd be a different story."
I got an idea. "My grandmother is the Queen of Genovia. If you can save Johanna, she will reward you handsomely."
The medic peered at me in disbelief. "I'm sure."
I fell to the floor and started begging. "I swear to God she is. Look!" I showed him the pendant.
"You could have stolen that."
"With the security around the embassy? Not likely. PLEASE do something. I don't want her to die."
The medic sighed and gave Johanna another shock. Nothing. "It won't work anyway. The bullets went through her head."
"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THAT?!"
"You didn't ask."