If I am a Princess in Rags and Tatters
Francis Hodgson Burnett, A Little Princess.
;;
So, for the last year, Mia had lived comfortably with the information that A) her father is a prince, and B) at no point in her future would she have to deal with this in her day-to-day life. Granted, the thought did cross her mind when the doctors confirmed her Dad had cancer, but his reassurances that he wasn't going to die of it, that it was treatable, made Mia put it out of her head. But now – now the whole royalty thing was going to be a Thing for her, wasn't it?
Her Dad wasn't married, as far as she knew, Mia was his only kid – unless something was seriously up, she was a princess. Please god no. DO NOT WANT.
Maybe if she kept her fingers crossed and wished really hard, there'd turn out to be some secret back-up heir who'd get the throne after her Dad.
Oh wait. Mia was the secret back-up heir, wasn't she?
UGGGHHH.
Well, Mia was just gonna play dumb until and unless her father told her so himself. No sir was she gonna ruin her own life just yet.
Besides, she had her own problems, what with her mother dating the teacher of the Algebra class Mia was failing SO HARD she had to stay behind from school every day in an attempt to raise her grade; her body basically ignoring the fact that Mia has definitely hit puberty, and just generally dealing with Lilly and her TV show, as well as other school stuff in general. Mia doesn't need a new princesshood to make her – admittedly really bad – hair go grey before the age of twenty.
But still, she played stupid and asked her mother, "Why does Dad have to fly all the way over here to talk to me about he can't have kids?" mostly because she wanted to gauge the situation annnd – her mother's reaction confirmed it. No amount of crossing fingers and wishing on stars was gonna save her here.
Crap. Mia's a princess.
;
Venting to Nick was the obvious reaction – he'd have an answer about how to handle this situation. It was something Mia'd always admired about him, that Nick always seemed to know how to handle everything.
FtLouie: Did you ever think that the thing you warned me about last year would actually be something that would actually effect me?
HalfAgonyHalfHope: I'd considered it, but it'd always seemed less than likely. Your dad's cancer wasn't a secret. I figured there was a chance, but thought we could burn that bridge when we got to it.
Nick's screen name was a quote from the Jane Austen book Persuasion, one of his favourites. All of Austen's works were actually his favourite – Mia hadn't actually read any of them, she'd tried, but the language was too dense for her. Nick had made her promise she'd try again in a few years and see if she'd like them then – she'd liked the movies of the books though, so at least she'd understood some of his references.
FtLouie: We've gotten to it. What am I going to do?
HalfAgonyHalfHope: You're going to be a princess. Get used to it, because this isn't going anywhere, and there's no escaping it. You have my deepest sympathy.
FtLouie: You're a lord.
HalfAgonyHalfHope: A lord who was raised to be one. Before now, at most you could've been raised to Lady, or Duchess. You're being thrown right into the deep end. Do you think you know how to swim?
FtLouie: Maybe not. Maybe there's another heir.
HalfAgonyHalfHope: Yeah, your second or third cousin or something. But he's a fashion designer – I've met him, and let me tell you, no one in Genovian government wants that guy running the show. It's your dad, and now it's gonna be you. Your fate is sealed. See you in Genovia when they drag you over here.
FtLouie: No way am I moving.
HalfAgonyHalfHope: What, you think they'll let the crown princess and heir to the throne grow up and be educated in ANOTHER COUNTRY without any education about her future job?
FtLouie: I can learn here. New York is the best city on the planet.
HalfAgonyHalfHope: 14th biggest population, 1st biggest ego. If you're not coming here, then your Grandmother is probably gonna come to you. Dowager Princesses are historically the teachers of the female heirs for their roles in the Genovian court.
FtLouie: 1) She's in France, 2) Dad hasn't even gotten here yet, I don't know the full situation, and 3) even if Grandmere comes to NYC, that means I can escape her.
HalfAgonyHalfHope: We'll see about that. Good luck, Princess :p
;
"Lilly, my dad's coming into town for a bit."
"Why? It's not your birthday, or your mom's, and unless he actually just want to yell at you in person about your Algebra grade-" Lilly's face was all scrunched up as she tried to read the Spanish-written signs on the subway.
"He wants to talk to me about this whole infertility thing, I guess. It's probably a shift in perspective for him or something." Mia was twitchy, and trying to hide it. She drummed her fingers on the subway pole she was holding for balance.
"Well that's telling. He's probably got unresolved issues with his parents, if he's concerned about being a parent himself."
"Duh. Grandmere is a huge pain in the ass." And if Nick's foreboding IM was accurate, she'd end up being an even bigger pain in Mia's.
Lilly cocked an eyebrow at Mia. "Well, I can't comment on that, given that I've never met your grandmother. I wonder if your father is afraid of losing his youth. My mom says that many men equate losing their virility with losing youth."
"I wouldn't know about any of that. I'm just irritated that he's going to be staying at the Plaza. I hate having to go there; the staff seems to have a vendetta against me. Last time I was there, they wouldn't even let me in the door because I was wearing shorts, and it literally took me calling my dad from the concierge to even get in past the lobby. I'm going to see him tomorrow."
"Well, maybe this just means he's going to spend more time with you, if he's re-assessing his whole existence as a parent post- this."
Mia had a gut feeling Lilly was right. Just probably not for the reasons Lilly was probably thinking.
;
As per Mia's prediction about the Plaza, she was held at the entrance by the doorman despite the fact she was wearing her school skirt instead of shorts, probably because the uniform made it clear she was a minor. It took Mia waving over the attention of the concierge and spitting out her father's name for them to let her in. Perks of royalty, maybe.
Meeting her dad at the Palm Court was something she'd always enjoyed doing as a kid, because the atmosphere and food always made Mia feel fancy, like a princess being doted on in a palace. The irony was not lost on her. Her dad looked . . . maybe not nervous, but uneasy when he saw her, but he hid it well enough to give Mia a hug before sitting down.
The standard conversation minuate occurred, and Phillipe started in on the conversation Mia had been expecting for about three days. "Mia, I want you to know the truth. I think you're old enough now, and the fact is, now that I can't have any more children, this will have a tremendous impact on your life, and it's only fair I tell you. I am the Prince of Genovia."
Mia just sipped some tea, keeping her eyes wide and face unsuspecting. Like she had no idea what he was saying. Like this was completely new information. "So . . . I'm a princess now? Because I'm your only kid?"
"Ah – yes." Phillipe nodded. "Your mother and I agreed when you were born that a palace is no place to raise a child – as my own upbringing can attest. Of course, I wasn't expecting her to raise you in an artist's loft in Greenwich Village, but I will admit that it doesn't seem to have done you any harm. In fact, I think growing up in New York City has instilled you with a healthy amount of scepticism about the human race at large – something that never hurts to have. What I'm trying to say is, your mother and I thought that by not telling you, we were doing you a favour. We'd never envisioned that you might actually be required to succeed me to the throne. But . . . well, you're right, honey. You are the heir to the throne of Genovia."
Mia just sat in silence, letting her expression tell it all. Uncomfortable and pretty far from happy.
"Mia, I'm sorry. Honey, you'll be able to make something out of your life despite this. You can come back to New York and visit your mother and friends as often as you want, but, honey –"
Mia cut him off, her expression immediately changing to a scowl. "No way Dad! I'm not moving to Genovia or whatever you're about to say. I'm staying in New York. End of story."
"Mia –"
"No! No way! I can't! I won't! First of all, I'm only decent at French, and mostly only when Grandmere's the one speaking. It's why I only average a B in French class. I'm not moving my entire life to a country where I don't speak the language well, where people are going to judge me for my accent when I know that European people don't like Americans very much – and, what, am I supposed to leave Mum and Fat Louie and all my friends behind? No!" Mia was speaking quickly, all her attention being paid to making sure her father understood that No Way Was She Moving. She was getting angry.
"Mia, sweetheart, you have to understand –" Phillipe was gaping like a fish. Mia was probably giving away her position of the situation – maybe her dad was realising that Mia was more aware and prepared for this argument than he was.
But Mia's preparation for the argument didn't mean she wasn't as upset as she would have been without her fore-knowledge. Tears had formed in her eyes and were starting to drip down her face.
"What I understand is that you and Mum have LIED to me my entire life, and the ONLY reason that you're telling me the truth NOW is because it's become necessary to YOU. At NO POINT did you even think that my DAD being royalty was something I might need to know before now, and your way of telling me all of it is by also announcing that I have to move across the planet to another continent so I can be of use to you. Instead of being HAPPY at the home and city and country where I've spent my ENTIRE LIFE. No. No WAY."
And, well, with that last word, Mia threw herself out of her chair, snatched up her schoolbag and raced out of the building – and her long legs meant that she was out all the doors of the Plaza and on the street before Phillipe was able to leave the Palm Court.
Mia sprinted down the busy street, dodging people on the sidewalk and only barely managing that. She threw herself down the entrance to the subway system, knowing that she'd get home before her mother arrived back from her studio, no matter how frantic her father was when he undoubtedly did call her.
;
Barricading herself in her bedroom wasn't difficult – some quick snagging of food from the kitchen, plus some for Fat Louie, a brimming water bottle, and a chair wedged under the door handle so it couldn't be opened from the outside, and she was untouchable. Her mother wasn't home before Mia'd gotten there, but there was no way Mia was coming out of her room. She had her cat, her things, a private bathroom, and a computer she immediately turned on to contact the only person in her life that could possibly understand what was going on in her life right now without needing two hours of explanations.
FtLouie: So the thing happened.
FtLouie: It was a disaster.
HalfAgonyHalfHope: It's 10 at night right now for me. What, did your dad pull you straight out of your school?
FtLouie: I have math review after school for an hour every day. I met with Dad after. Can you FOCUS please?
HalfAgonyHalfHope: On what? Your dad is a prince. You're a princess. This is going to affect you for the rest of your life, and therefore it will be that much harder. Welcome to the world of being a Young Aristocrat. It sucks.
FtLouie: What am I going to do? Dad told me that he was a prince, and then immediately announced that I have to MOVE to GENOVIA.
HalfAgonyHalfHope: Told you so.
FtLouie: You're being very unsympathetic. I don't want to move!
HalfAgonyHalfHope: One upside: you'd see me a lot more.
His light sarcasm radiated through Mia's computer screen.
FtLouie: OK, true. It would be cool. BUT, one downside: I'd be living full-time with GRANDMERE!
HalfAgonyHalfHope: Fair.
HalfAgonyHalfHope: Look, you can talk your dad around to your side. He loves you. He wants this to be something that will work. But you have to compromise with that. You can't sit around complaining that you have to be a princess, even when it sucks (and it will!), otherwise you're just going to be miserable. This all sucks, but you have to own it. Tell your friends.
FtLouie: How? I can't tell my friends! Lilly's anti-royal! She'd NEVER understand!
HalfAgonyHalfHope: Maybe not. But would you rather have no one to talk to about all this?
FtLouie: I have you.
HalfAgonyHalfHope: Thank you, but I think you'd feel better being able to talk to someone whose life isn't six hours ahead of yours. I'm supposed to be getting ready for bed right now.
;
It took Mia being barricaded in her room for almost four hours before it sank into her parent's brains that no, Mia was Not willing to move to Genovia to learn to be a princess in a future she didn't want; and her father was just going to have to deal with that fact.
"This can either be a discussion on my terms or not one at all, Dad!" Honestly, she was mostly just quoting some of Nick's IMs, but she figured they wouldn't know about that. "It's MY life you guys want to uproot, which means I should get the final say!"
When they eventually coaxed Mia into the living room, Mia was scowling and fully defensive; her parents were desperate and uneasy.
Mia bit into her cheeks and squeezed her eyes shut – the pain hurt, but it stopped her tears from spilling. She was angry – and she was right to be! – but she hated making her parents upset with her. How was this fair?! How were her parents expecting she'd be happy about this?!
"So I guess you figured I'd be a doormat about this then, huh?" The words were blurted out, all in a rush, the most New Yorker sentence Mia could muster, and also a total accusation.
"Mia – Mia, honey, no." Helen was probably trying really hard to get a sentence together, but Phillipe beat her to it.
"The plan was to move you to Genovia because you are the Genovian Princess – it was the most logical decision. You can't rule a country you don't live in, Mia."
"I don't WANT to rule a country, Dad! I don't want to move – you aren't giving me an option, but you could at least pretend like you aren't FORCING ME to live a life I've NEVER wanted!" Mia yelled.
Helen had taken the role of mediator – a role she was never very comfortable with, but this was clearly a conversation of two extremes. "Okay, okay. Phillipe, you need to tone it down, because this isn't getting us anywhere." Phillipe looked offended, but Helen ignored him, pulling their daughter onto the futon next to her. Mia refused to make eye contact. Helen brushed Mia's loose hair behind her ear.
"Okay, how about we start from the top. Mia, when you were born, your father, his mother and I all agreed that I would be the one to have custody of you – your father needed to marry someone appropriate and have children, and I'd never wanted that sort of thing-" Phillipe cut Helen a stare, which she ignored. "Although one could argue that fourteen years would be long enough to find a woman who did," Helen cut Phillipe a glare, which he valiantly ignored, pretending he wasn't the same man who had a new supermodel girlfriend every three weeks whose names Mia never bothered to remember the moment the woman was gone; "because we wanted you to grow up as a normal girl, free of the complications having a royal father would bring you."
Mia just glared at the blank TV.
"The plan was to tell you when you were eighteen, or when Phillipe got married or had another child to be heir, whichever came first." Mia scoffed, but said nothing. Helen continued, "but now things have changed, honey, and so our lives do to."
That got Mia's attention, in the form of a glare. "Our lives, Mom? You're not the one who's going to be uprooted to Genovia. What, you're going to give up art, and your life here in New York and live the rest of your life as a Duchess in Genovia or whatever, walking one step behind me and Dad forever? You'd hate it. I'd hate it too, but I also don't get a choice."
Helen nodded, acknowledging the unfairness. Phillipe sat down on the chair next to the futon and decided that, since Mia was – if not calmer, then unlikely to scream and lock herself back in her bedroom – and interjected, "But I think the initial plan of relocating you to Genovia will have to be scrapped, given your . . . feelings on the subject –" Mia snorted. "So, instead your Mother and I have agreed that your royal training will happen here, in New York."
Mia snapped her head to face her father. "What?" she breathed, her eyes wide circles. Helen smiled gently, like trying to reassure Fat Louie into getting off the top of the cabinet.
"You're going to stay here, in New York, to finish your time at high school, and we'll continue with the same arrangement we've been having since you were a child, with your school breaks being spent in Genovia. We can reassess as time goes by, but the point is that, barring my own untimely death, your life will be as normal as a princess in training can be."
"What does that mean?" Mia was squinting with suspicion.
"You'll have a bodyguard – should we deem it necessary, mostly when you're in Genovia, unless this is all found out – the plan is to keep this as something of a secret from the general public, if we can. You'll be driven to and from school, and after school will be your lessons in how to be a public figure in the capacity of my heir."
"Princess lessons – what would those mean?"
"Oh, the usual things, dancing, etiquette, speech-giving, that sort of thing."
"Grandmere's already hammered a lot of that into me. It's literally all she does when I'm under her thumb at Miragnac."
Phillipe blinked. "Oh. Well, I'm sure my mother will find more to teach you."
What? Grandmere was in France.
Still, this was all a better outcome than Mia was expecting, so she agreed to it all.
;
The next day at school – thankfully, bless fully, a Friday – Mia was . . . not out of sorts, or upset, but she was kind of listless and lacking in attention. Her friend, Tina Hankim Baba, was the first person to bring it up in a way that got Mia to actually admit there was something wrong.
"Mia," she had to gently snap her fingers a couple times to get Mia to look up from her lunch, "Mia, is everything okay?"
Mia looked at Tina from where her attention had been on her salad. She wondered – what to say? Tina was easily the sweetest friend she had, and she'd definitely never judge Mia for her new princesshood the way Lilly definitely would; she'd probably be super excited over the situation. They'd made friends the first week of freshman year, when Mia had decided to sit with Tina after realising that the reason she sat alone was because people made fun of the fact Tina had to have a bodyguard – her super-rich father was terrified of Tina being kidnapped or something, so she had to have Wahim follow her wherever she went – school, home, the bookstore just two blocks away from her apartment building.
Mia'd become friends with her because, honestly, she could relate. Not in a major way, not at the time, but she'd realised that in another life, if Mia had been raised as royalty, instead of Nick telling her about it when she was thirteen (and now her Dad making it official), Mia'd probably grown up with a bodyguard following her every step. And to have people make fun of her for something her Dad had decided? That was just straight up mean. So, that second week of classes, the first Monday, Mia'd sat with Tina and beckoned her friends to join her once they got into the cafeteria. And it was friendship from there on.
So, was everything okay?
Uh.
"Yeah, no, I'm fine." Mia lied. She hated doing it to Tina's face – not the way she hated lying to Lilly, but Tina's big brown eyes always made Mia feel guilty when she looked right at them and told a fib. "My Dad's in town now, and we have dinner last night and talked about his whole – situation; I guess I'm just kinda bummed that he's taking it so hard."
Tina smiled sympathetically. "Yeah, I can get why he'd be bummed that he can't have more kids, but maybe you guys can look on a – well, not brighter side, but an optimistic one: he's got you, and why he want more than that?" Coming from someone else, that could easily be an insult, but Mia took it in the good faith it was meant in, and she smiled at the complement. Tina continued, "Besides, maybe this means he'll find more time for you, you know? You'll see him more often."
Mia thought about the threatened Princess Lessons. "You're probably right, Tina."
;
Friday night was Helen's date with Mr Gianini – which was in no way an awkward conversation to have between Mia, Helen and Phillipe, not at all – so Mia and her father had dinner together in a far more relaxed restaurant than the Palm Court that night.
"Does it have to be Grandmere who teaches me?" Mia didn't want to sound whiny, but there was really no helping it. Clarisse Renaldi was her keeper for all her summer breaks, and as such, Mia'd already had basic etiquette drilled into her from a young age – Grandmere had been lecturing her on the proper way to sit, stand, sit down in a skirt (of any length) without being 'immodest' – which just means not letting your underwear show; walking in high heels, dining etiquette of all varieties (while also making it clear that Mia's vegetarianism was not something she approved of), horse riding (honestly one of the few joys Mia ever had at Miragnac); and the most recent summer gone she'd hired a vocal coach to teach Mia how to sing, of all things, three times a week; and whenever Viscount Mabrey wanted Nick to 'have company' (which in hindsight was translated as: have my nephew be in close proximity and confidence of the Dowager Princess and Genovia's unofficial heir, whom my nephew is close in age with and with whom he gets along well, therefore giving me some leverage with our Crown Prince), semiformal dancing lessons also occurred in Miragnac's ballroom – although they often only lasted as long as Grandmere could be bothered, at which point Nick and Mia dissolved into silliness and goofy dance-offs and Grandmere went off to smoke her cigarette and have a Sidecar.
So how much 'princess training' was Mia going to have to suffer, if she'd already been forced to cover the basics of it all?
"Yes, Mia." Phillipe sounded tired, as if Mia's ongoing assertiveness about her situation had drained him. Perhaps it had, what with Phillipe still being in recovery from chemotherapy and all. Mia felt bad for basically haranguing her cancer-survivor dad, but if he thought he could uproot her whole life without asking her opinion about it, then she only had minimal sympathy. "It is the duty of the Dowager Princess, whomever she is, to be heavily involved with the raising and education of the heir to Genovia. It's what we've been doing for generations."
"Previous generation's Dowager Princesses weren't GRANDMERE, Dad. Last summer, you know, when she FORCED me to take singing lessons – even though I don't and have NEVER wanted to sing – the lady she hired was the sort of person who made my lift the grand piano and sing to enforce me singing from the 'diaphragm, NEVER the lungs!'"
Phillipe finally bothered to look Mia in the eye. "Is that why the floor was always so scuffed after your lessons?"
"Yeah, Dad." How was that what he noticed? Phillipe sighed, sipping the glass of scotch he had in his hand.
"Mia, I know my mother is – difficult, to put it mildly, but she is a good teacher. She taught me all of my etiquette skills, and now I have a reputation for having never said an inappropriate or ridiculous thing in public in my entire adult life. It won't be torture."
"Grandmere hates me. It will be." Mia bit into her vegetarian pasta, hard, as if to punctuate her sentence.
"My mother does not hate you, Mia. She just doesn't know how to relate to you, and frankly, I'm fairly certain she's stopped trying at this point. So instead, she treats you as she would a peer."
"Dad, how many painkillers are you taking a day?" Mia scoffed. "Grandmere doesn't treat me as a peer, she treats me like I'm a cross between a child and something she scraped off the bottom of her shoe. Not being able to understand someone does not mean you can't treat them well. Grandmere just likes torturing me, and I guarantee that THAT is what my lessons will be. Torture."
;
FtLouie: So, the plan right now is: I spend HS in NYC, live in Genovia during the summer, and apparently Grandmere is coming to NYC to lecture me into becoming a princess so I don't embarrass the entire dynasty.
HalfAgonyHalfHope: So, better than expected?
FtLouie: I guess. Although it did take a three-hour siege of my barricaded bedroom for them to get the message that hey, maybe I'm not very enthusiastic moving to Europe a month into freshman year to be a princess.
HalfAgonyHalfHope: So you've chosen private American schooling over being castle-schooled, huh? I know people who would happily kill you in exchamge for not having to go to private school.
FtLouie: Hey, I might not love my school, but I know I prefer it over whatever I would've ended up with in Genovia.
HalfAgonyHalfHope: No school uniforms?
FtLouie: Very funny.
;
And then, after an uneventful weekend, Monday and Tuesday, disaster came on a private jet to one of New York's airports.
FtLouie: So at what point was anyone going to mention that GRANDMERE was going to be arriving in New York?!
HalfAgonyHalfHope: Wasn't the 'your grandmother will be teaching your princess-ness' an indicator that she'd be involved in this?
FtLouie: Yeah, but I figured that'd be over the summer! Or after Christmas! Or at literally any point that wasn't THE MIDDLE OF THE WEEK FIVE DAYS AFTER MY PRINCESS-NESS IS A THING I HAVE TO DEAL WITH!
HalfAgonyHalfHope: They want to get you started early?
FtLouie: Oh my god, she's going to hate it here. Should I call the president and tell him she's here? If anyone can kickstart World War Three, it's her.
HalfAgonyHalfHope: Mia –
FtLouie: She's literally going to hate every aspect of New York. If she ever comes to the Loft, she's going to lose her mind – she has a fit if she sees two people of the OPPOSITE sex holding hands, if she's here for Pride she will LOSE IT. And dear god, the LOFT?! She'd have an aneurysm! Not just over Fat Louie, because she hates cats, but also Mom's collection of fertility statues – like, they're REALLY explicit! It's also against the law to smoke in restaurants here, and you know how she gets when people tell Grandmere she can't smoke.
HalfAgonyHalfHope: Maybe all these aneurysms will be a final straw and she'll go back to Miragnac and insist on only teaching you when you're in Genovia.
FtLouie: You know my wishes never come true.
;;
SO, yes, this is a replacement of the original second chapter of this story, mostly because I 1) didn't really like how I'd ended that chapter; 2) the original plan was for all of book 1 to be a oneshot, but it turns out I have No Patience, so instead I'm trying for a two-shot rewrite of each book. More or less. The deviations from canon are going to get moreso from roughly the second book onwards.