A Romantic Notion

Disclaimer: I don't own the Princess Diaries. All recognisable characters, content, or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: As the (as yet anonymous) Crown Princess of Genovia, 14 year old Mia Thermopolis knows she will one day devote her life to the service of her people. Sometimes, such service requires sacrifice. OOC. Eventual Mia/Nicholas. Non-Canon, Arranged Marriage AU.

Rating:

Author's Note: It's been a long time since I read or watched the Princess Diaries. Over a decade, in fact. I thought about refreshing my memory with a reread of the series, but I couldn't bear the thought of all of the adolescent angst I'd subject myself to in the process. As a result, I have no idea what (or whom) is book canon, film canon, Fanon, or none of the above, so just… Go with it. And enjoy.

Part One:

Chapter One:

Without fail, the novelty of high school wears off quickly. It's a dull, unremarkable series of sometimes tedious, sometimes difficult classes, annoying classmates, and occasionally exciting extra-curricular activities, but it's not necessarily awful. It's not great, either, but between my academic and extra-curricular commitments, the tutoring sessions with my grandmother, and the excessive amount of homework I receive each week, I don't have a great deal of time to dwell on it.

In any case, Lilly seems to complain enough for the both of us, and I find myself increasingly impatient with her regular tirades. She goes on - at length - about my lack of free time, my newfound commitment to school (and my extracurricular activities), and my subsequent inability to help her with her Youtube Channel. As a result, I also find myself guiltily grateful that I rarely see her these days, because we have differing class schedules, we don't share the same lunch hour, and she has no interest in participating in any of Albert Einstein High's many and varied extra-curricular activities.

It is, perhaps, part of the problem, but I don't have the mental or emotional energy to find a compromise, and Lilly doesn't even seem to want to. Compromise, that is.

My mother says it's entirely normal to grow out of friendships, to develop different interests, to acquire contrasting priorities and values. People change - relationships too - and it's perfectly acceptable to form new, different relationships with new, different people.

In comparison, my father is clueless. He's learned and worldly, with a military career and a masters degree from Oxford under his belt, but the nature of adolescent girls - and their trials and tribulations - is completely beyond him.

Mostly, he chooses to throw money (or presents) at any personal problems I throw his way, and I can't decide if his utter hopelessness is frustrating or hilarious.

In any case, Lilly has been my best friend since Kindergarten. Most of the time, I'm sure I know her better than I know myself. We've laughed and cried together, she's seen me at my best and worst and at nearly every point in between, and I'm not ready to let her go.

Even with my longstanding crush on her older (and entirely unattainable) brother, however, I don't know how to make her fit in the life I've started building for myself. I'm not even sure if I can, but I'm not about to give up on nine years of friendship without even trying.

I'm just not sure I'll have much of a choice in the matter. Lilly doesn't know about my heritage, or about the birthright that awaits me in Genovia, but I've known about it since I was 10, and I'd intentionally chosen not to speak of it. It's not a secret that can remain quiet forever though, and I wonder if there's any coming back from an omission like that.

Somehow, I'm pretty sure there isn't. Not between best friends.

"You look like you're thinking deep thoughts."

Kenny Showalter drops gracelessly into the bench seat beside my own, and sets about preparing for class. He's tall and gangly, all arms and legs and floppy blonde hair, and he's sweet. He's also an excellent lab partner - reliable, intelligent, prepared to do his fair share of classwork - and at some ambiguous point since the start of the school year, he'd become a friend.

"It's a bit early for that, I think."

"What, did you stay up late watching cat videos again?"

I smile, sheepish. It's only half a lie. "You caught me."

Kenny laughs, but his expression is commiserating. "The procrastination is real, right?"

"You have no idea."

It's not just school-assigned homework I have to contend with, after all. Grandmere's lessons in the government, law, and politics of Genovia - the government structure, judicial system, political landscape, and my eventual (and subsequently dreaded) role in everything - have been augmented by independent projects regarding Genovian History, Literature, Art and Music, and I'm not sure I've ever been so mentally drained in my life.

On the bright side, I no longer have to put up with the mind-numbing hours of etiquette and deportment lessons I've been subjected to in the past, but I'm not sure I have the time to thank God for small mercies.

"Weekend's coming up, at least."

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Do you have plans?" Kenny asks.

"Not really," I reply, and I'm only a little bit embarrassed about my lack of social life. Mostly, I'm looking forward to a quiet, restful weekend - no pressure, no one else's expectations, just me and Fat Louis - but I don't know how to say that without sounding like a total loser."Get ahead in homework, I guess. Sleep. Maybe a Grey's Anatomy marathon. What about you?"

"Comic-Con," Kenny answers, "I'm going with my brother."

"Lucky," I acknowledge, and valiantly try to suppress my envy. I'd wanted to attend, but all of the adults in my life had deemed it too much of a security risk. I'd begged and pleaded, sulked and cajoled, but they'd each stood firm, and I'd reluctantly, regretfully conceded defeat.

Although I've resigned myself to my non-attendance, it's no less a wrench - to hear other people's enthusiasm about it, their plans regarding costumes and guest appearances and all the rest of it, to know I won't be able to join them in all the fun - but I expect the disappointment is something I'll have to accustom myself to in the weeks, months, and years ahead. Comic-Con is not the first event in my life I'll have to miss - because of security concerns, because of prior commitments, because it's unacceptable for a future Head of State - and I try not to resent it. There are worse things, after all, and I'm hardly deprived.

In saying that, it's easier said than done, and the sense of injustice I feel festers.

"Yeah, he surprised me with tickets for my birthday. I'm pretty excited."

"Will you go in costume?"

"Of course. What do you take me for?"

The discussion of Kenny's costume lasts until our teacher makes an appearance, as prompt as ever, and in no mood to humour anyone's shenanigans. She starts the lesson - theory today, including the obligatory, copious amount of notes - and I'm so focused, I can almost forget about Lilly and Kenny and Comic-Con.

But then the bell rings, and Kenny smiles his nice guy smile and bids me a nice morning, and there's a string of text messages awaiting me on my phone. Lilly intends to begin filming for her next video on Saturday - interviewing the owners of Ho's Kitchen about their special discount, reserved only for Asians - and she wants me to be there. For moral support. And camera duty. And just because.

I grimace, unenthused by the prospect. Not because I don't respect or appreciate Lilly's pursuit of equal rights for everyone - regardless of race, gender, sexuality, so forth and so forth - but because I feel there are better ways to go about it than to harass the owners of a small, family-owned convenience store for their business choices.

Also, I've actually learned something from my grandmother's lessons in public relations, and I don't want my involvement in something like that - harassing immigrants, more or less - to come back and haunt me, the family, and the family business (such as it is).

The question is, then: How do I tell Lilly that I categorically refuse to get involved in her most recent 'Shut Up and Listen' video?

Somehow, none of my increasingly important lessons in rhetoric and diplomacy have prepared me for letting my friend down.