Royal Rebel Read online

  Hi! I’m Lily and I’m going to be a totally awesome fashion vlogger!

  There’s just one small thing that might stand in my way.

  I’m a princess.

  But a princess can do whatever she wants, right?

  Wrong.

  Because one day I’ll be Queen of Waldenburg.

  And if there is one thing a future queen does not do, it’s vlog about fashion…

  So I just have to make sure I don’t get caught – but keeping a secret this big isn’t easy…

  Royally yours, Lily xoxo

  To my readers, this one is for you…

  Always follow your heart – and remember: there is a queen in every one of us!

  Royally yours,

  Carina xx

  In loving memory of the real Alice.

  Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter ONE

  Chapter TWO

  Chapter THREE

  Chapter FOUR

  Chapter FIVE

  Chapter SIX

  Chapter SEVEN

  Chapter EIGHT

  Chapter NINE

  Chapter TEN

  Chapter ELEVEN

  Chapter TWELVE

  Chapter THIRTEEN

  Chapter FOURTEEN

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright Page

  WHAT? I lean in close to my laptop and peer carefully at the small black numbers.

  150 views…

  I stare for a moment more, then rub my eyes. Late last night there were only eight views…I’m sure.

  I pull my pyjama sleeve down over my wrist and use it to wipe at the screen, but the number doesn’t change. So, no, it definitely isn’t smudged chocolate. I pull back with a sharp intake of breath.

  Maybe it’s a mistake?

  Maybe something is wrong with my computer? After all, I’ve never had a video go beyond twenty views before.

  I reload the page and what I see makes me jump back from my computer and bring my hands to my mouth in disbelief.

  210 views…

  HUH? Sixty more people have just watched my video in the time I’ve been staring at the screen!

  Okay…this is no joke. My latest Tiara Girl video is already getting WAY more views than my three previous videos put together!

  I only filmed the video yesterday afternoon, on my phone. I propped the phone up on some books and talked my way through three different hairstyles: a high sleek ponytail, a half-up/half-down style with a couple of cute hair clips and an amazing French braid that went front to back but then wrapped round the head.

  Coco, my cocker spaniel, is in the video too, and I even braided her brown topknot (it is pretty long). So I guess that’s actually four hairstyles, although Coco’s doesn’t really count because she’s not going back to school. But she did look really cute! I put some pink-gold glitter around my eyes and we wore matching pink tops (both of which I made myself). Then I added some stars and captions to the video before uploading it late last night.

  One word:

  LOVE!

  Of course I might be a tiny bit biased…but seriously, I dare you to watch it and not agree that it’s the cutest thing ever.

  And now over two hundred people have seen the video!

  I stand up, throw my fists in the air and dance in a circle before leaping onto my bed. I start bouncing up and down, singing at the top of my lungs. Coco, after a moment’s confusion, picks up on my excitement, leaps onto the bed and shimmies and barks beside me, her tail wagging happily.

  “I’m a vlogger! A real, live vlogger!” I laugh as I spring up and down. “Tiara Girl, I love you!”

  I tell myself I’ll become the best, most amazing and totally awesome fashion vlogger anyone has ever seen! Nothing will stop me. NOTHING!!!

  At that moment I hear a knock on my bedroom door, followed by a clipped voice. “Your Royal Highness? Time to get ready for school. You’re expected at breakfast in twenty minutes.”

  All the excitement suddenly zaps out of me and I fall onto my rumpled sheets like a limp balloon. Coco licks my face as I sigh.

  Ugh! That! And just when I’d forgotten…

  That is the one small detail that might possibly stand between me and my whole fashion-vlogging dream.

  Personally, I could work around it. I mean, I don’t think it’s that big a deal…

  Okay, maybe it is… I guess it depends how you look at it.

  Anyway…what I forgot to mention is that…er…umm…I’m a princess.

  Yeah, I know, it adds a twist.

  And you’re probably asking yourself, what’s the problem? A princess can do whatever she wants, right?

  Wrong.

  On its own, being a princess wouldn’t be such a problem if it wasn’t for one other little detail… I’m also first in line to the throne of the Queendom of Waldenburg.

  Yup, that small fairy-tale-like queendom high in the mountains between France and Germany. Well, I’m its princess and my mum is its queen.

  And according to my mum (Her Majesty Sophia XII, Queen of Waldenburg, if you want to be technical), if there is one thing (actually, according to my mother there are many, but for the sake of simplicity I’ll stick to one here) a princess and future queen does not do, it’s vlog about fashion…

  So if my situation sounds tricky, that’s because it is.

  And guess what? I think it’s about to become a lot trickier…

  Okay, I bet you’re dying to ask me a bunch of princess questions. I know this because almost everyone I meet asks me what it’s like to be a princess and live in a palace.

  I’m always a bit tongue-tied when asked though, because for me it’s my normal life. Like, I don’t know anything other than being a princess… Having said that, I know I’m lucky to live in such a beautiful house…er, palace…with my mum and dad and grandmother. And Coco, Cupcake (my pony), and Zoë (my guinea pig).

  So what’s the palace like?

  Hmm…I guess the best way to answer is with a list.

  I like to write lists. I may as well let you know this now because you’re going to come across a lot of them. So here’s the first one…

  1. It’s set on a chunk of rock jutting out from a high mountain. And the castle has lots and lots of towers and turrets – so, yeah, it looks really dreamy.

  2. Oodles and oodles of people work at the palace. There are footmen and cooks, cleaners, housekeepers, butlers, drivers, ladies-in-waiting, gardeners, security guards, soldiers, a grand chamberlain, and even a press office. I would have to write a whole new list in order to include them all. Basically, if you live in a palace, don’t expect to ever be alone.

  3. Also, I’m not exactly sure how many rooms there are in the palace but I remember Grandmaman once said it was over eight hundred. Some of them, like the Guards Gallery, are large enough that, if she wanted to, Mum could have a tennis court and stadium benches put in. Others are just big enough for a tiny sofa and table – what Grandmaman calls a boudoir. She says that hundreds of years ago my great-great-great-great- (I’m not sure how many greats) grandmother Adelaide created the tiny light green and gold boudoir and made it big enough for only one person – herself – so that she could have some peace and quiet. Today Grandmaman likes to sit in the boudoir while she solves her sudoku puzzles.

  4. The most impractical thing about living in a palace is the distance you have to walk to get anywhere. For example: a midnight snack. The palace kitchen is still in the cellar (as it has been since 1580), so getting a snack is no easy thing, trust me. It takes me something like fifteen minutes (ONE WAY!) to walk from my bedroom on the second floor of the Renaissance wing, to the kitchen in the cellar of the west wing. When you live in a palace you really have to try hard not to forget anything when you leave your
bedroom because it might take you half an hour just to go back and fetch it.

  5. The palace has a ghost and his name is Eberhart. He’s a German count who married a Waldenburg queen four hundred years ago. Legend has it he married her in the hope of taking the queendom from her, but when his plan was discovered the Queen’s Mountain Guard cornered him on the battlements of one of the castle’s many towers and pushed him into the ravine far below. People sometimes see his ghost as it runs along the battlements (spooky!). It is said he is waiting to avenge his death and will one day strike down a Waldenburg queen. As Crown Princess I can’t say that this makes me very enthusiastic about sitting on the throne.

  Anyway time to get ready for breakfast.

  After jumping off my bed I hurriedly dress in my school uniform: navy and green tartan skirt, white blouse, maroon tie and navy blazer. If you asked a psychologist, she’d probably say that my need to vlog about fashion stems from my school uniform. Not that I dislike it, but…it’s a uniform. And it’s not even a nice one. Is it any wonder I have to spend my free time expressing my own personal style?

  I quickly message my BFF Leonie Leonberger about my super-exciting Tiara Girl viewer numbers. As I’m texting, Sandra (who used to be my nanny and now looks after my clothes and helps me pack my suitcase when I travel and stuff), comes in to ask me if I need any help. What Sandra really means, though, is Let me have a look at you and make sure you look like a princess before you step out of the palace. Sandra likes things just so. Even if I am only going to school.

  I put a clip in my hair and assure Sandra everything is under control, while checking that Zoë has enough fresh water in her cage. Then I run from my bedroom to the middle of the baroque wing downstairs (by running I can do it in five minutes instead of twelve) with Sandra following behind at a brisk walk.

  I meet about five maids along the way and even though I’ve told them they don’t need to curtsy to me, they still do. “You will be a queen one day, Princess Lily, so you can begin getting used to it now,” Sandra says with a smile, as she catches up with me in the ballroom. I’m scuffling with Coco to get the tennis ball out of her mouth – she’s carried it all the way from my bedroom.

  Yes, there is a ballroom in the palace, and, yes, if you saw it, it would remind you of Beauty and the Beast. It’s long, two storeys high, and white, with lots of glittering gold plasterwork. The ceiling is painted with pink cherubs and a hazy blue sky. Enormous mirrors line one side of it and large windows the other. There are two huge fireplaces at either end of the room and crystal chandeliers hang in two lines along the ceiling. The only thing missing is the handsome prince. Ha ha! That was a joke: in Waldenburg we only have princesses!

  I finally get the ball away from Coco and raise my arm to throw it.

  “You really shouldn’t be playing with balls in here, Your Royal Highness, if I may say so.”

  “But why not?”

  I briefly wonder if all thirteen year olds have someone telling them what to do all the time. Or am I the only one? Because sometimes – like now – it really feels like I’m the only one.

  “Because you might hit someone, or something, accidentally.”

  “But who besides us is going to be in the ballroom at eight in the morning?” I laugh and stand in front of Sandra, then throw the ball backwards over my head. By the time I see Sandra’s eyes widen in horror, it’s too late. I turn just in time to watch the ball bounce off the forehead of our Court Master of Ceremonies.

  And now he has a big red mark there.

  I apologize but he’s amused. Still, Sandra can’t resist saying, “I told you so, Princess Lily,” as we step out of the ballroom.

  She has a point, so I don’t say anything, and run down the corridor instead as Sandra waves goodbye.

  Finally, I reach the small dining room (there are three dining rooms in the palace – the small one is the one we use when it’s just us) and open the door. There I find my grandmother speaking to Alice (aka Alice Victoria, Countess of Vendelstein, Mistress of the Robes to the Royal Court of Waldenburg).

  “Good morning, Grandmaman!” I say as I rush in, Coco at my heels.

  I come in so quickly that I catch the footman standing outside the dining room by surprise. I hear him jump behind me, too late to stop the door from slamming shut. My grandmother and Alice wince at the noise.

  “Sorry!” I say.

  “Lily, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, a princess does not rush – anywhere.”

  “But I’m late!”

  “Precisely my point, my dear,” Grandmaman answers as she turns her face up for me to kiss. “A princess never rushes because a princess is never late. And she’s especially never late because she’s been throwing balls for her dog in the ballroom.”

  WHAT? How come Grandmaman always knows everything?

  She is wearing a lilac dress, with matching coat and hat. A large multi-gemstone brooch on her swishy coat and sapphires at her ears provide a dazzling touch of colour. I can smell her rose scent as I lean in. “Punctuality is the politeness of queens,” she reminds me. “Now, say good morning to Alice.”

  Have I mentioned that Grandmaman always has to have the last word? I tell you, the whole princess thing is only easy in the movies.

  Alice has been my mother’s Mistress of the Robes since before I was born, and before that she was my grandmother’s Mistress of the Robes. So that tells you how long she’s been around. Earlier in her career she was also a general with the Waldenburg army, so she’s a stickler for protocol – at times she even corrects Grandmaman.

  Which is why Alice has been handpicked by my mother to teach me all about my future role as Queen of Waldenburg. Of course, I learn a lot from my mum and grandmother. But because Mum is so busy running the queendom and because Grandmaman still keeps a pretty packed official schedule (despite having abdicated – FYI: that’s basically a fancy word that queens and kings use instead of “retirement” – in favour of my mum), Alice steps in regularly.

  In fact, starting today, after school, Alice will be teaching me everything about being a Crown Princess and Queen-to-be in my new Princess Class. I’m starting Princess Class because on my fourteenth birthday (which is about six months away) I will “come of age”, as Grandmaman puts it. This means that from the day I turn fourteen I will officially begin my royal duties. It’s a Waldenburg royal tradition: every Crown Princess for the last nine hundred years has done the same. This makes it difficult (okay, impossible) to say, Umm, actually, Mum and Dad, I don’t really feel ready to start my royal duties just yet, do you mind if we wait until I’m sixteen? I think the castle would crumble before that happened.

  Of course, there’s already a lot of princess stuff I know, like how to wave from the balcony of the palace and who I should curtsy to… So in fact my Princess Class will focus more on the Queen-to-be stuff, like how the Waldenburg government works, signing laws into existence, and Waldenburg foreign diplomacy.

  Yeah, I know, it’s not exactly what fairy tales are made of.

  But I’m sure Princess Class will be okay. Besides, despite her frosty reputation, Alice is actually very nice. Really. Even if she can go on for hours about royal protocol.

  1. A princess must always be on time. She can be five minutes early, but never five minutes late.

  2. A princess must always be friendly. Alice says people never forget the moment they meet a real-life princess, so if you smile and are friendly they’ll always think well of you – and if you don’t they’ll always think ill of you. “But what if I’m just having a bad day?” I asked Alice once. “Princesses never have bad days,” she answered.

  3. A princess must always dress well. Unfortunately for me, being well dressed is nowhere near the same as being fashionably dressed. Well dressed, says Alice, means looking appropriate for whatever royal function I’m expected to attend. So, for instance, I should know to wear a bright-coloured dress to the palace summer garden party, or Waldenburg traditional
folk costume for Waldenburg National Day. Being fashionable (i.e. wearing my favourite customized jeans or a cool top), on the other hand is for fashion magazines. I once asked her what was so wrong with that. I thought she was going to faint before she straightened her already straight back, turned to me and said, “Fashion magazines are common! You on the other hand represent nine hundred years of Waldenburg history.” Then she gave me a look that would make lemons seem sweet.

  “Well, I really must go now, Lily. I have to open that new museum in the Mont Chermoix district,” Grandmaman says as a footman pulls her chair out from behind her and she stands to leave. I kiss Grandmaman goodbye and only sit back down after she has left the room.

  I hear a shuffling of papers as Alice places her reading glasses onto the tip of her nose and goes over her notes. As Mistress of the Robes, Alice’s official role is to coordinate the schedules of my mother’s ladies-in-waiting and see to it that my mother’s wardrobe and jewellery are in order. She also sometimes accompanies my mother on her state visits and is present at all official Waldenburg events.

  Because today is Monday, Alice is present during my breakfast to give me a rundown of the coming week’s schedule. This will include anything that I might have to do, like answer letters from young Waldenburg citizens, or pose for a new official portrait. She’ll also remind me of anything big my mum has going on, like trips and official events, especially if they’re taking place in the palace – so I don’t accidentally open the wrong door and surprise Mum while she’s talking politics with the King of Bhutan, for example.

  “Your mother and father are still away, so tonight you’ll have plenty of time for homework. Plus, don’t forget, we will have your first Princess Class later.” Alice looks up. “Tomorrow, your parents will return from their state visit to Brazil. And on Friday evening your mother is hosting a reception for two dozen new ambassadors and their husbands and wives. Several of our ministers, and the Mayor of Waldenburg and her husband, will also attend.” Alice pauses briefly and eyes me over her reading glasses. “Your mother called me this morning, Lily; she thinks you should join her for this event. She thinks it’s time…and I agree.”