But then all her brothers died of the plague, too—which didn’t bother her too much since she hardly knew any of them either.
But that meant she was the next in line to the throne.
So the nuns made Amelie pack up her stuff and go to the palace to be crowned princess of Genovia. Which Amelie really wasn’t too happy about, since she had to leave her cat, Agnès-Claire, behind.
Because cats aren’t allowed at the Palais de Genovia (it’s amazing how the more times change, the more they stay the same).
And when she got to the palace her dad’s brother, her uncle Francesco, whom no one in her family really liked on account of that time he kicked their dog, Padapouf (dogs ARE allowed in the palace), was already there bossing everyone around.
And, if I remember my Genovian history correctly (and believe me, after enough torturing from Grandmère, I do), Uncle Francesco—who became Prince Francesco the First after Amelie’s death (actually, he’s Prince Francesco the ONLY, since he was such a horrible person that no one in Genovia ever named their kid Francesco again after his death)—was disliked by everyone, not just his own family. He was the worst ruler Genovia ever knew, due to his attempting to tax the populace so heavily after the plagues in order to make up for his lost tithes that many of them starved to death.
He also had a reputation for profligacy (as his nearly thirty illegitimate children, all of whom tried to make a claim for the throne after he died, proved). In fact, during Francesco’s rule, Genovia very nearly became absorbed into France, as the prince owed so much money due to his gambling debts, even losing the crown jewels in a card game with William III of England at one point (they weren’t recovered until nearly a century later, when a cagey Princess Margarèthe seduced them away from George III, who was rumored to be not quite right in the head).
Anyway, thanks to Francesco basically thinking he was already prince, even though he wasn’t—yet—poor Amelie didn’t have anything to do. So, like any bored teen with no one to talk to—all the ladies-in-waiting were dead of plague—she went to the palace library and started reading all the books there. A bit like Belle in Beauty and the Beast, actually! Except the Beast was her uncle, so no chance of a love connection.
And instead of dancing teacups and candlesticks, there were just pustule-covered chancellors and stuff.
That’s as far into her journal as I’ve gotten. It’s so boring I probably wouldn’t go on.
But I want to find out what happens to the cat.
I—
I just got an e-mail. Check it out:
CHEERGRL: Hey, Mia! It’s me, Lana. Hope you had fun last night doing whatever. You missed an AWESOME party. You can see photos from it at LastNightsParty.com. OMG, on the way home I thought I saw your friend Lilly making out with a ninja or something at Around the Clock. But what would she be doing with a NINJA? I definitely partied WAY too hard. So how are those Louboutins from Saks working out for you? Too bad you can’t wear stilettos to school. Well, TTYL! ~*Lana*~
So Lilly’s romance with one of Kenny’s muay thai fighter friends continues! If you can call what they have together a “romance.”
When is Lilly going to realize that she’ll never find the emotional fulfillment she’s looking for in a relationship that’s based on pure physical attraction? I mean, what kind of muay thai fighter can keep up with Lilly on an intellectual basis? She’s going to toss him to the curb as soon as he opens his mouth.
It’s sad, really. You would think the daughter of two psychoanalysts would be able to recognize her own pathology for what it is.
But I guess since Lilly’s not in formal therapy, like I am, she thinks she doesn’t have a problem.
Ha!
Which reminds me—school tomorrow.
And I haven’t done any of my make-up work.
I wonder if I can get a note from Dr. Knutz? Please excuse Mia from her homework. She is depressed. Sincerely, Dr. Arthur T. Knutz.
Yeah. That’d go over great. Especially with Ms. Martinez—
OH MY GOD. Another e-mail from Michael just popped into my inbox.
Okay, I have got to stop having a panic attack every time this happens. I mean, we’re friends now. He’s going to write to me. I’ve got to stop losing it when he does. I’ve got to be normal. I can’t keep hyperventilating just because he’s reached out to me through cyberspace.
I’m sure he’s not writing because he’s realized what an awful, terrible mistake he’s made, saying he just wanted to be friends, and that he wants to get back together. I’m sure that’s not it at all. I’m sure he’s just wondering why I never replied to his last e-mail.
Or maybe I’m on some kind of forward list of his, and this is just some update on his eternal quest for an egg sandwich in Japan, or whatever.
Well. I guess I better click on it, or I’ll never know.
Maybe I’ll just wait for my heart rate to go down a little….
SKINNERBX: Dear Mia,
Hey, heard you had bronchitis. That sucks. Hope you’re feeling better now.
Things here are still good. We’re already working hard on the first stage of the robotic arm—or Charlie, as we’re calling it. I’m even starting to get used to the food, though baby squid isn’t really my idea of a snack. I understand my sister’s been giving you a hard time. You know how Lilly is, Mia. She’ll get over it eventually. You just have to give her space.
I know you’re feeling under the weather and probably swamped with homework and princess stuff, but if you get a chance, I’d love to hear from you.