A/N- Sorry you guys, I know I haven't updated in a while for this story. I would have updated sooner, but the document that this story was under wouldn't upload, so I ended up cutting and pasting. This starts out with Mia's POV, and changes whenever you see that little line thing. Lilly makes an appearance, but it's waaay ooc, so forgive me for that.

Btw, on the samurai/Zorro issue, we've got two for Zorro and one for a samurai, and one undecided. Thank you, guys.

Chapter 5

Who the hell came up with the concept of curtsying? I swear, whenever I find them, I will KILL THEM.

And it didn't help my concentration any that Michael and Dad were busy whispering in the corner and looking over a funny piece of paper.

"Amelia!" Grandmère yelled. "Pay attention! You can't even curtsy properly, you will need this knowledge for the ball!"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes for the fifth time that day and said, "Yes, Grandmère," and went through the paces again.

Finally when I got out of there, Michael escorted me back to the limo, but for some reason, he seemed to have an unusually tight grip on my arm. Not that I normally minded when he held me, it's just that…well he was cutting off my circulation and I was starting to get a little dizzy.

"Michael?"

"Yes?" He asked. He didn't look at me, he just kept looking around suspiciously.

"Y-you're kinda h-hurting me," I winced as I pointed to his white-knuckled grip.

He smiled apologetically at me, but didn't loosen up. "I'm sorry, Mia, but this is just a precautionary measure."

"Michael, I highly doubt that some Euro-Trash terrorist is going kidnap me on my way out of the Plaza hotel."

He looked at me grimly and said, "You'd be surprised."

She just scoffed, like I was trying to scare her or something.

Truth is, Philippe and I combed that stupid letter from top to bottom for everything. We gave the letter to forensic scientists and asked for DNA testing on that strip of ready made glue that they have on envelopes.

I dropped Mia off at the loft and gave her specific instructions not to go anywhere tonight unless she called me to escort her there. She however just rolled her eyes and smiled. "Okay, Michael."

"Promise," I demanded.

She gave an exaggerated sigh and huffed, "I promise. Now go back to the Plaza before you end up staying over the night."

When I was sure she was safely inside the loft, Hans drove me back to the hotel.

From the tales that my mom and dad told, a bodyguard can never be too careful. It is our duty, after all, to protect those who we are hired to guard. If something happened to Mia, I'd probably curl up and die.

That, and my career would go down the tubes.

Wait, since when did I care more for Mia than I did about my own well-being?

Shit, I'm being selfless again.

I pretended like it annoyed me that Michael was being so bossy and protective, but actually I was thrilled to pieces. I nearly died when he made me promise not to go out without telling him. I mean, how sweet can you get?

I just wish they told me about that stupid letter. I know it was a terrorist letter. I mean, why else would dad and Michael be flipping out so badly? It's not like I can't handle the news or anything, because I've almost come to grips with being a princess, and I know that high profile political figures go through this kinda stuff all the time. I mean, my father's received, what, at least twenty-seven terrorist threats. And as far as I can tell, none of them have come true.

Who'd want to kill the princess of Genovia anyway? Seriously, the fate of my small principality isn't going to determine the fate of the world. I don't have overwhelming political power in the UN like England or the U.S. Why don't these people bother someone else, like Tony Blair, or George Bush? I think they'd get more out of it.

So all in all, I'm not that worried. Michael's got my back.

I totally trust him.

I can't stop pacing. It's a habit. An annoying habit, especially to Hans and Philippe.

"Michael, you're going to wear a hole in the carpet," Philippe muttered irritably. "I'm her father. I should be worrying worse than you, but I'm not."

I looked at him. "How could you not? You're daughter's being threatened by a terrorist!"

He sighed. "I get threatened by terrorists all the time and nothing ever happens. I've got good security, and I hired good security for my daughter. I'm sure she'll be fine."

I sat down on the bed and tried to think of something other than Mia's impending doom. How about I call my sister? I haven't talked to her in a while. She may be a little know-it-all and domineering, but she means well. Most of the time, anyway.

I pulled out my cell phone and walked out into the hall. I dialed her number, praying she'd pick up. "Hello?"

"Lilly!" I cried out in relief. "Oh thank god. I need to talk to someone."

"Hey Michael. I thought I could sense your perverted thoughts an ocean away."

It's weird. We always joke about us having this weird mind connection, but as much as we joke, it's strangely true.

"How are you and your boyfriend, what's his name…Horace?" I hadn't even mentioned that fact that she never told me about him, I could just read her thoughts.

Of course, Lilly wasn't surprised. "Boris, Michael, Boris. And he's fine. He's playing a concerto for the Royal family on Tuesday."

"You're not going to dress him up, are you?"

"I can't trust him! I've told him a million times that the practice of tucking sweaters in one's pants is a huge fashion no-no, but he won't listen to me."

I chuckled. Lilly and Mia could be best friends if they ever happened to meet each other.

"How's your job going?"

I sighed. "I handled my first terrorist letter."

Lilly laughed. "Gee, what a milestone. You need to put that in your photo album, under 'Baby's First Terrorist Letter'."

"I'm just really worried, that's all."

"About what? Michael, it's not about your personal safety. As a bodyguard, you've got to put the needs of the person your guarding above your own."

"I know! I'm worried for Mia, that's what I meant."

"Is she worried?"

"No. We didn't even tell her about the letter."

"Oh, by the way, I saw you on the news."

I raised my eyebrows. "I'm on the news in London?"

"Well, when Princess Mia was outed, it was worldwide news. They got footage of you carrying her through those reporters. And as your sister, it is my duty to inform you that she is way out of your league, so don't even try."

Inwardly I winced, but I knew Lilly could sense it. "Ah ha!" She cried out. "I knew it, you do have feelings for your charge!"

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," I muttered gruffly. "She twisted her ankle when we were going through and she would have gotten eaten alive if she just stayed there, so I had to help her out."

But of course, Lilly wasn't gonna buy that. "Uh huh, sure Michael. Just keep telling yourself that."

I needed a serious change of subject, so we talked about Mom and Dad and what was going on with their jobs.

I missed Lilly. As much as I complained about her and her stupid psychoanalyzing, she was my sister, and we shared this weird, unspoken connection.

When I hung up, I wanted to go over to the loft, to see if anything had happened to Mia. Right when I was going to tell Hans to bring the limo around, I decided against it. Maybe I was being obsessively protective. I needed to stop worrying about her. If she was fine, then I should be okay with it too.

The next day when we picked her up for school, she rushed out to meet me with a piece of toast in her mouth.

"Hi Michael," She said, though her words were muffled.

She was absolutely adorable. She had her hair strangely done that day, like pigtails or something, and she looked like she was four. I tugged on one of them and smiled. "Hi Mia."

She made a face at me and she got into the limo. I followed her and closed the door, making sure no one was running after us or something. As soon as she was buckled up, she began munching on her toast. She tore off a piece and offered it to me. "Want some?"

I shook my head. "No, that's okay."

She looked so content, just sitting in the limo with her pigtails bouncing and munching on her toast. She noticed that I was staring at her, and raised her eyebrows while drawing back self-consciously. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Taken aback, I stuttered, "L-looking at you l-like what?"

"Like I'm your favorite niece or something."

Somewhat relieved, I laughed and pinched her cheeks. "Because you just look so cute!" I put on that stupid little voice that grandmothers use when they're cooing at their already mature grandchildren.

And then all of a sudden, I felt the impact of the situation. I was touching her cheeks. Her skin was smooth and soft. I wondered what the skin on her neck felt like…

NO! I screamed in my head. I immediately pulled back, embarrassed at my contact with her.

An awkward atmosphere settled over us. Desperate for something, anything to talk about, I said, "Uh, I know you're probably wondering why I was being so weird yesterday."

"It was a terrorist letter," She answered for me as she licked the crumbs off the tips of her long, slender fingers.

I looked at her incredulously. "How did you know?"

She smirked. "It was kinda obvious, wasn't it? I mean, you and dad were huddled up in a corner whispering to each other over a piece of paper. Then you deicide to go all Kevin Costner on me. What else could it have been?"

"So you're not freaked out or anything, are you?"

"Nah. I trust you Michael."

Those four words made my morning.

I think it's cute, Michael worrying about my personal safety and all. I know it sounds vixen-ish for me to say that, but how many times do I get to stay stuff like this?

The day was going about rather normally. Lana and Josh obviously overcame whatever was going on between them, because she was chipper in the morning. I just wanted to roll my eyes when she and Chelsea talked about how wonderful their boyfriends were. Josh and Scott had nothing on Michael.

Wait, what was I saying? Michael wasn't my boyfriend. He was my bodyguard. Damn wishful thinking.

During biology, my lab partner, Kenny smiled as I walked in. "Hey Mia."

I smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you, Kenny."

He raised his eyebrows. "What for?"

"For treating me like a normal girl and not a princess." I huffed. "Everyone calls me princess now. I just want to be a normal person."

He smiled again. "I can only imagine."

We went through our normal exchange during biology: he would take the notes and I would copy his homework. It was a wonderful, symbiotic relationship. Well, I don't really know what I do, but Kenny doesn't complain. Note to self: find out something I can do for Kenny.

When school ended, Michael walked up to me. "Whywere you flirting with Kenny?" He accused.

I stared at him incredulously. "What? Where the hell did that come from?"

"You were all over him during biology!"

"Michael, he's the only guy to treat me like a person and not a princess. Other than you of course," I added quickly as I spun the dial on my locker.

"He probably just wants you to think that, to get you to like him or something."

I rolled my eyes. "Sure."

"I'm serious, be careful around him."

I shut my locker and smiled at him. "Okay, Michael. I'll be careful around fifteen-year-old guys with strange anime fetishes."

"Mia," He warned.

I giggled. "Look, Michael, I don't feel anything for the guy. He's a nice person with a big heart and brain that lets me use his biology notes. Nothing more."

He still didn't look too convinced so I held his hand and smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry. I'll be fine. I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

I finally shut him up and we both walked back to the limo. Today Grandmère said she had a special surprise for me. I didn't really want to find out what it was, knowing her, but I was getting loads and loads of thank you letters from Greenpeace. I couldn't let them down, could I?

I really, really don't like that Kenny kid. Something about his pasty appearance and goofy smile just irks me.

I don't think Mia took me seriously with the warning. I know what kids like Kenny are after: they think with their dicks and masturbate to porn when they're parents aren't home. I didn't want Mia going out with a loser like that.

Then again, I didn't want Mia going out with anyone period, but that's something completely different.

Oh goddammit, why am I so protective over a fourteen-year-old, other than the fact that I'm her bodyguard and am getting paid to do this?

I looked across the limo and saw Mia's blonde head bent over a book, trying to do her homework. "Is that algebra?" I asked.

She nodded and started erasing her paper in a frustrated manner. "Michael, could you help me? I don't understand what they're talking about!"

I smiled and crossed the limo to sit next to her. "See, that's the problem here, you're doing FOIL all wrong."

I continued to help her with her homework until we got to the Plaza. She shoved her books into her backpack and sighed. "I really don't want to go to princess lessons today."

I chuckled. "Do you ever want to go to princess lessons?"

"Well today Grandmère said she had some sort of 'big surprise' and she had that evil grin on her face. I'm kinda scared to tell you the truth."

I helped her out of the limo and said, "I'm pretty sure it's illegal for her to bake you and eat you, if that makes you feel any better."

She grimaced and said, "I'm pretty sure that wasn't it, but thanks for the reassurance."

"Any time."

When we got to her grandmother's suite, she was immediately whisked away to some obscure room. Philippe came up to me and showed me another envelope, from the same terrorist. This time, I wasn't as concerned as yesterday, but still very wary.

AAAHHH!

Okay, okay, I just have to breathe really, really deeply. In…out…in…out. Everything's gonna be fine…I don't look too terribly…

Oh who the hell am I kidding, I look like Lana!

What am I gonna do? I can't go to school looking like this tomorrow! I'll be the laughingstock of the whole school! I look like a total wannabe!

This is so not good!

Dear Prince Philippe,

My second letter, has hopefully reached you before this wonderful ball that is being planned in your daughter's honor. Understand that I have not forgotten my threat. You will receive a letter later this week entailing my demands. If they are not met…well you can use your imagination.

Yours truly,
The Civilian

Philippe and I looked at each other warily. "How does he know about the ball?" He asked. "Clarisse refuses to divulge that information to anyone."

"Mia just wants to forget that it's happening, much less acknowledge it."

At that moment, Clarisse walked in with a triumphant swagger. "I'm pleased to introduce my granddaughter. Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo, princess of Genovia."

A reluctant Mia came out from the other room with two other frilly men behind her.

I felt like my knees would come out from underneath me. Mia was pretty to begin with but somehow they had transformed her into an angel. They put on a touch of makeup to make her face sweeter. Her hair was in loose, gentle curls around her face and just below her shoulders, and her gray eyes were lined which made them look huge. Her slender figure was wrapped in a simple, yet elegant dress of fine, wine-colored silk.

Philippe smiled and said, "Mia, you look beautiful."

She scoffed and said, "I look like the inside of a Fig Newton."

"Nonsense, Amelia. Sebastiano designed this especially for you. And I think Paolo did a wonderful job with your hair and makeup." Clarisse reprimanded. She turned to me and gave me a sly smile. "What do you think, Michael?"

"Y-y-you look g-g-great," I squeaked.

She smiled at me and I swear I really was going to collapse that time. "Thank you, Michael."

And she turned around and went back into the room to get changed.

When she was gone, I turned to Philippe only to find him smiling slyly at me. "What?" I asked, trying my best to stop shaking.

"Nothing."

A/N- I'm soooo sorry! I'm total crap at writing a terrorist letter, so please review and give me some tips if you have them!