Disclaimer: I don't own the princess Diaries or Nicola and the Viscount. Meg Cabot does. The little poem thing was copied from Firesong, a book that my sister was reading. I just found a copy of the poem lying around.

A/N YAY! I can finally upload my chapters... though why anyone (save Frankie, who might feel obligated to do so) would want to read this rubbish is beyond me. Read at risk of your own boredom. To those that hate this fic, I'll try my best to end this quickly, without ruining the story too much.

When Mia came back from the dance, it was only to hear Queen Anne (A/N I think her name was Anne... I can't be bothered to check.) raving on about how Michael was the perfect consort for her dear Jarre, and how his manners and looks were perfect, and without match, save her own two children, (of course) while Jarre stood by her mother, both of them beside themselves in their desire for Michael to wed Jarre.

I suppose they never considered the little possibility that Michael may not want Jarre, did they? Mia thought bitterly. And why should they? Despite his insubstantial claim', no doubt Michael failed to provide them with a reason to think otherwise. They were so convinced that Michael wanted Jarre, that he must've led them on if it weren't true... but Michael would never lead someone on, unless it was for such a good reason that he absulutely had to... so it's settled. Michael must really like Jarre.

Mia, in her love of poetry, had been incapable of seeing Michael as anyone special in her life. Hoping that Josh had great knowledge of poetry, she tested him. Joy of my days, let me go. Life of my heart, let me go. Days of my life, let me go. As she waited for Josh to complete the little poem, her heart slowly sank. Josh looked at her, puzzled. That's very nice, he said. Mia sighed. Prince Josh, you're supposed to finish it, She told him as gently as she could. Josh smiled. Oh, I see... Pool of my backyard, let me go....swimming.

Sickened of Josh's lack of intelligence and his sadly rated poetic skills, and also of Queen Anne and Jarre's perpetual chatter of Michael, Mia mumbled an excuse that she was tired, and went off to her bed. Her last thoughts before she drifted off were what does it matter to me, who Michael chooses to love, anyway? It is of no concern to me, as I am completely in love with Josh. Convinced, Mia then drifted off.

A/N Yeah, yeah. Short chapter, I know. Stick with me... besides, though my chapters are short, I write really often, so be thankful.