A/N: This story is based on the movies The Princess Diaries and The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement, which are the property of Meg Cabot and Disney. No infringement is intended. I also want to remind everyone that like I said in my summary, a major character death WILL occur. I strongly suggest you all have plenty of tissues on standby because this story will be very dramatic and intense (but what else is new, right? 95% of my work is dramatic and intense, lol.) If you're here and you struggle with depression or other similar issues, this may not be the best story for you to read since, like I said, a major character death will be happening. I ask you all to please read responsibly. ((HUGS)) to everyone who needs one in these crazy times. God bless you all, and happy reading.
Chapter 1: Unruly Granddaughter
A rather disastrous day I will never forget had actually started out as a lovely warm summer day in June. My granddaughter, Queen Amelia, had just turned twenty-three two days before, and would soon be celebrating the second anniversary of her ascension to the Genovian throne. And it could be easily said that the past two years of my life before then had been the most interesting ones to date. Not the easiest years. Definitely not the calmest or the most relaxed of years. But definitely not boring years, either. My only grandchild certainly hadn't made life any easier for me, it seemed, but she did bring a special kind of zest into my life that I wouldn't trade for anything. But Mia's zest and her lively spirit weren't always enough to endear her to our people. Mia did have her very real drawbacks, and she did have a number of political enemies who looked down on her and made things difficult for her because of those drawbacks.
That day, Mia had had to review the Genovian Royal Guard while riding a horse sidesaddle. It was a ceremony that had to be performed once every year by either the King, Queen, Crown Prince, or Crown Princess of Genovia, and it was something that Mia and I both had come to dread ever since the first time she did it. Mia's first review of the Genovian Royal Guard that she had done during her final weeks as the Princess of Genovia had ended in disaster, and the next two ceremonies were almost as bad. Mia's first reviewing ceremony was ruined by the antics of the atrocious Viscount Arthur Mabrey, who had paid someone off to spook the horse Mia had been riding. (Viscount Mabrey and his young nephew, Lord Nicholas Devereaux, had been trying to steal our family's crown from us at the time.) The next two years, Mia was so nervous that she had some clumsy moments and fell off the horse she was riding. And although I was certainly grateful that my granddaughter wasn't seriously injured, I was terribly disappointed on that unforgettable day in June that she'd failed yet again to properly carry out her royal duties.
"Hello, Your Majesty," said a familiar voice behind me moments after the ceremony officially ended, and I turned and saw that it was Lord Pallimore's wife. Lady Anne Pallimore and her husband had been our family's "frenemies," so to speak, for decades. Sometimes they supported us politically, but there had always been those unpredictable moments where they suddenly stabbed us in the back, as Lord Pallimore did when Viscount Mabrey and his nephew started competing against Mia for the throne. Lord Pallimore had been the one who had pushed so hard to get Parliament to attempt to force Mia into getting married in thirty days or risk forfeiting the throne to Lord Devereaux. He even dared to say before me and before all of Parliament that he wasn't convinced that Mia was the most suitable choice to govern Genovia. He eventually changed his mind and decided to give Mia his support, but his sudden attempt to force my granddaughter into an arranged marriage infuriated me, and it was something I never forgot.
"Hello, Anne," I said with a forced smile. After decades as a Genovian royal, I had forced smiling down to an art. "Would you like to go inside for a nice cup of tea?" I asked her. The thought of having tea with such a two-faced nuisance as Anne Pallimore turned my stomach, but I knew I had to be diplomatic.
"Oh, yes ma'am. I'd love to. Thank you," Anne said with the same kind of forced smile I had just used, and then we went into one of the sitting rooms inside the palace together and I asked Mrs. Kout, the head housekeeper of the palace, to bring us some tea.
After Mrs. Kout brought out the tea and set it down on the coffee table in front of us and left us alone on the loveseat together, Anne looked at me and said, "My heart does bleed for you, Your Majesty. I know exactly how you feel."
"Whatever do you mean, Anne?" I asked.
"The difficult grandchild, of course. My grandchildren are the same way. Like Her Majesty, Queen Amelia, my American grandchildren have also been spoiled and ruined by that horrible country. Americans really are such annoying people. They haven't the slightest sense of class or breeding or propriety."
"Americans have no sense of breeding? What are they, Anne? People or horses?" I asked with a small laugh.
She chuckled then and said, "Oh, Your Majesty, you are so very witty. But sometimes, it really does seem as though even horses are more cultured and have better manners than most Americans. Every time I see Her Majesty spill drinks and food all over herself at state dinners and fall off horses at every reviewing ceremony we have of the Genovian Royal Guard, I just cringe, and my heart goes out to you so much. I know that if one of my granddaughters were on the throne, she'd be as bad about proper etiquette as Her Majesty is."
"Amelia never drops things or trips and falls on purpose, Anne," I quickly reminded her. "She never means for any of those things to happen."
"Perhaps not, but with all due respect, Your Majesty, Queen Amelia is far too careless. And quite frankly, her continual carelessness is an embarrassment to our whole nation. And I can only imagine how embarrassing it must be to you as our former ruler. If she had been properly trained from childhood like you and I both were, she would have far more self-control, and all of these mortifying incidents would never happen."
"Properly trained from childhood? Again, Anne, it sounds like you're talking about an animal and not a person. What do you expect me to do? Send Mia to obedience school like a dog?" I asked her pointedly. I was trying to stay calm and maintain my dignity and my sense of propriety, but it was becoming more and more difficult to do so. And it was becoming so difficult because in a dark corner of my heart, I was having the same thoughts and feelings as Anne. I did love my granddaughter, of course, but I truly did find her continual clumsiness and carelessness to be terribly embarrassing. And having Anne shine a spotlight on it like she did was so very frustrating.
Anne chuckled once again and said, "Of course not. Don't get angry, Your Majesty. As I said, I'm in the same boat you are. My own grandchildren are equally embarrassing. And not just with their horrible manners. My granddaughters are making choices in love that are just as embarrassing as what Queen Amelia appears to be doing with the Duke of Kenilworth."
"What are you talking about? What is Mia doing with Andrew?"
"You mean you don't know? You mean you haven't heard all the rumors?"
"What rumors, Anne?"
"People are saying that they're secretly engaged; that they're planning on running off and eloping without telling anyone."
"Don't be silly! That's ridiculous!" I insisted.
"Is it really so ridiculous, Your Majesty? After all, Queen Amelia is young. And furthermore, she is half-American. What American twenty-three-old girl doesn't at least consider running off and doing something crazy with her love interest? It's not as if she was raised here in Genovia, you know, where we teach our children discipline and propriety. She was raised in America of all places. If I were you, Your Majesty, I'd keep a very close eye on her. I never will forget when she was caught sleeping on the ground beside young Lord Devereaux mere days before she was supposed to be getting married to Duke Jacoby. As a Genovian citizen myself, I was absolutely mortified. I can only imagine how it must've made you feel. And then last year, our young Queen abandoned Lord Devereaux and went back to Duke Jacoby. Forgive me for being so blunt, Your Majesty, but after what happened last time, I personally believe that young Duke Jacoby is a fool to put his trust in Queen Amelia again. I know I certainly wouldn't if I were in his shoes."
"Well if you'll forgive me for being so blunt, I don't think you're being fair. When I was nineteen, I wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of having to spend the rest of my life with a man I didn't love. Just the thought of going through with an arranged marriage scared me to death, and I was even more scared of having to become the Queen of Genovia. In the weeks and days before my big royal wedding, I actually fantasized many times about running away from it all with a young man I'd gone to school with whom I'd had a crush on at the time."
"You fantasized about it, yes. But you didn't do it. You were tempted to act foolishly and irresponsibly, but you didn't give into the temptation. And you didn't give in because you were strong. You didn't give in because you understood the concept of duty. You didn't give in because you were willing to put your country before yourself. You and I are old school. We were brought up right. We were raised here in Genovia, in a culture that taught us to put our duty to our country and our duty to other people before ourselves. Queen Amelia gave into the temptation to be wild and foolish because she wasn't raised with a strong value system like we were, Your Majesty. She was raised in a culture that taught her to put herself before everyone else. She was raised in a culture that's very spoiled and selfish and weak."
"Are you saying that Mia is spoiled and selfish and weak?" I asked, just barely concealing the anger I was feeling.
"I'm saying that she needs to grow up and realize that her actions carry consequences, not only for herself but for you and for every member of her Genovian family, and for every citizen of Genovia. I do love my American granddaughters, but I know that if any one of them were ever on our country's throne, it would be both a horrific embarrassment and a disaster for Genovia. And forgive me, Your Majesty, but as a Genovian citizen, I must voice my concerns and I must be very blunt with you. Your Majesty, with all due respect, you simply must get that unruly granddaughter of yours in line, and you must do it soon before she makes our whole country an international laughingstock like she did that morning when she was discovered lying on the ground next to Lord Devereaux while she was still engaged to another man."
"As the Queen Dowager of Genovia, I appreciate it when a Genovian citizen shares his or her concerns with me. I will definitely speak with my granddaughter about everything you've said," I told her rather icily.
"Thank you, Your Majesty. Thank you so much. At least you still care about our country's overall reputation."
I said nothing in response, and I said very little to her during the remainder of our tea together that day. But as much as our conversation infuriated me, I knew that she did have a point, and I knew that I would definitely have to have a stern conversation with my "unruly granddaughter."