I can’t believe what Ben and I are trying to do… setting Victor up on a date with his assistant? This is crazy, but if anyone deserves another chance at love it’s him. From the way Ben is speaking about their relationship… Victor better go for it.

Ben texts, You should see the way they smile at each other. It's so lovey-dovey it almost makes me want to puke.

I reply,  Oh, but it's okay when WE act all cheesy, hm? lol

Yes, yes it is. People expect that from us... not to mention we're both under the age of thirty. So that helps.

Ben! I accidently snort in laughter to myself. Sami looks over at me like I'm crazy. Just see what you can do and I'll see what I can do okay? If anyone deserves a second chance it's your dad.

Right, he answers, Mission: Get-My-Father-A-Date has commenced. This should be interesting lmao.

I could talk to Paul, my advisor and see if we can get them some alone time once we’re back in the palace. Ben sounds so excited, even through text. I bet he just wants to see Victor happy as much as I do.

“Phones away!” Mrs. Albion, the only teacher in East Creek High with a voice louder than all her students combined, stands inn the front of the class tapping her foot impatiently. In a matter of seconds I have to throw my phone into my bag just like everyone else. The guys stuff theirs in pockets, folders, anything really. Once her class starts you hide your phone or you won’t see it until your parent or guardian comes to pick it up from the principal’s office.

Ash, Mel, Sami and I all exchange glances. It’s the last period of the day, which means it’s going to drag on murderously. I bet we all are thinking the same thing: just get through this and then we can meet up with Avery and head over to the auditorium, make it through rehearsal and then go to the mall. We can do this.

“Alright, since it’s nearing the end of the school year, I thought I would be nice—today we’re simply going to be looking at some speeches that I deem to be historic, passionate, or otherwise very well spoken… and some that aren’t as well presented. We’ll be looking at everyone from King George to President Obama.”

Her eyes skip to me, sitting in one of the middle rows. She doesn’t seem at all phased from the episode a couple weeks ago when I was rushed out of class.

Then, she glances at a few more people before walking over to her computer. She turns on the projector screen and starts clicking away.

In the middle of Martin Luther King’s speech I get a kick to the butt from Mel, who is sitting right behind me. 

When I turn to look back at her she rolls her eyes and passes me a note. Just as I’m about to open it though, Mrs. Albion says something that catches my attention. She’s stopped the video and is talking about the next video.

“Our princess should recognize this one,” she says jokingly. When she clicks on the video titled King Stefan of Chirnova Peace Speech I have no idea what she’s talking about. 

“King Stefan was quite possibly the best royal orator of the 90s. He graduated university after military school with a degree in foreign relations and communications. This speech in particular is one I find very compelling—it is the speech that brought peace to two entire countries. After he was done, as you’ll see, King Maxim of Vladesvya did not even bother making a comment…”

As it starts playing I feel eyes on me; people turning their heads slightly to see my reaction. Although the video is blurry, like most videos of the 90’s on Youtube, I can still see everything. I can see my father—my real father. He’s right there on the screen.

He looks just like he does in the tiny picture I carry in my wallet. His military uniform is decked with pins and medals; his hair is a little unruly, but that’s offset by the way he holds his head so high. And I can hear his voice. I can’t believe I never thought to Youtube-search my own parents.

His voice is powerful, but gentle—easy to listen to. I bet that voice lulled me to sleep more than once as a baby.

“Today we have made great steps in moving towards a new kind of society, here in North-Eastern Europe. It is our governments’ understanding that peace can only come when compromise is reached—and so it has been. Now, it is up to the people…”

I tune out of the speech, focusing in on the right hand side of the shot. My mother is sitting on a throne behind him, next to… oh my god is that Victor? And Victor’s wife? They all look so beautiful and regal.

And Ben… a very young, three year old Ben. He’s sitting there, swinging his legs back and forth like it’s just another day for him. 

And that white thing all wrapped up in my mother’s arms… it has to be me—little newborn baby me. Hell, I was doing royal engagements straight out of the womb. Did they even give me time to nap?

The stares on me grow so intense I feel like flinging my books at the people surrounding me.

“Furthermore, the union between our two families will help this effort to bring the people together.”

Union. Two families. Is he talking about me and Ben?

I can’t believe I’m watching this. How could Mrs. Albion be so stupid? The last thing I need is people seeing what a freak I am—getting engaged to a three year old when I was barely a year old. 

When people start to whisper—that’s when I feel the lump form in my throat. Hearing his voice and seeing their faces at the same time is just too much. And in front of all these idiots?

That’s my father there on the screen. That thought begins to settle in my head. He was a king—a great one. And my mom, she’s right there too—holding me tightly to her chest and staring down at me fondly.

Determined not to cry in front the entire class, I avert my eyes and try not to listen. My fascination has turned into complete mortification. 

It’s a miracle when the video stops, and Mrs. Albion—totally ignoring my discomfort—goes on to tell the entire class about how his speech united two countries and brought peace, however short-lived, to the region. However, there's one part I know she's intentionally leaving out.

The part where I'm promised to Ben as some ridiculous way of uniting the countries.

I feel Mel tap me on the shoulder and ask me if I’m okay. All I can do is nod… I’m really not.

“For homework I want you all to pick one person you’ve seen today and write a two page review of their speech,” Mrs. Albion finally wraps up the class. “I’ll let you go early today but just remember on Monday we’re starting the next big assignment!”

Everyone is out of the room in seconds—including me.

The girls swoop down onto me as soon as we get out into the hallway.

“Are you okay? Albion was just being a bitch,” Mel insists. “You know how she hates royals, right? She used to rant about how they do nothing and—.”

“Not helping,” I mumble as we continue down to the music wing.

Albion has been a bitch before but nothing like this. She had to have known it would trigger something in me. I’m not having a panic attack, but it feels pretty close to it. 

“You should be really proud,” Sami says quietly, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Your parents were so amazing, and they helped a lot of people… and your dad sure knows how to knock out a speech.”

“Knew,” I correct her. “We’re talking past-tense here.”

“So what?” Mel pipes up from behind me. “Anna, don’t let people like Albion get the best of you. You’re better than that.”

And so I try not to let it get to me. Rehearsal lifts my spirits because Mitch is cracking jokes left and right. It’s good to be back. But still, that video stays in the back of my mind; his voice; all the faces. I text Ben about what happened, but he doesn’t answer. I bet he’s in therapy again.

By the time we’re on the way to the mall Ben still hasn’t answered me.

“Did you see the video?” I ask Gabe and Marc.

Gabe, who was just inside the doorway when it happened, locks eyes with me through the rearview mirror. “Yes… and I believe it would be in your best interest to go home and see if you can find some other videos of your parents.”

I raise an eyebrow, “What?”

Why would I do that? Subject myself to more emotional breakdowns? Watching those videos will only make me cry more; think more—and I’ve been on such a roll lately.

“I think it’s about time you really looked into who they were. You need to pick your patronages in a few months, so you should ask Kassy for a list of the ones they did… don’t pass up the opportunity to learn more about them just because you think you’re going to get emotional. Getting emotional is normal.”

Marc’s words sit with me for a while. In silence, I contemplate them and eventually sigh in surrender.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I don’t know how many times I’ve said that to the two of them, but it’s a lot. 

But for now I can focus on better, less emotional things. As soon as we step foot into the mall I instantly feel a lot better. The girls remind me that we still have to find bathing suits. I want to tell them that Victoria’s Secret sent me five pairs of perfectly fitting bikinis, but Kassy advised against it. She says that even though our royal family accepts gifts—because apparently we used to be a pretty poor royal family—it’s not good to brag about it.

And so my friends have no idea I already have half the stuff in all the stores we go in. But hey, I’m good at pretending. I can roll with this.

People stare as we try on clothes, but it’s nothing compared to the way people stare at me in Chirnova and Vladesvya. A few iPhone cameras are pointed my way, and a few cashiers ask me if I’m “that princess that’s supposed to be dead” but other than that it’s a peaceful shopping trip.

"If it's like this here just imagine how many people are going to stare at Disney World," Mel mumbles as we walk down the corridor.

I throw a grimace her way, to which she replies, "Well on the upside you can wear sunglasses without looking like an idiot."

"Yeah, you'd be surprised how many people don't recognize celebrities just because they have sunglasses on. It's basically a fool-proof disugise," Sami says matter-of-factly.

Avery snorts, "Unless you have the paparazzi following you."

"Well, then let's hope no photographers over-step their boundaries," I cross my fingers and wish. Some magazines and news stations have mentioned my team going to nationals, but I don't think it's a story that'll attract much attention. That's good, because that means that they won't bother sending photographers. As for the free-lance paparazzi... well, they're my biggest enemies. They don't care how good the story is, they just want pictures.

I’m actually exhausted when I finally get back home. Upon walking through the door, my mom tries to shove a plate of food in my face.

“Did you eat?” She asks, “And did you have a good time?”

I nod to both and push the plate away. All I can do is mumble, “It was great.”

Unlike the days right after I got home, she doesn’t follow me upstairs. She used to, when I was a nervous wreck about Ben. But now she tends to just let me sort out my own emotions.

And that’s just what I have to do again.

The first thing I do is flip open my Macbook. If I’m going to watch videos of them, I need to do it now before I lose the determination. Marc and Gabe’s encouragement is still fresh in my mind.

Upon typing in: King Stefan and Queen Evangelina into the search engine of YouTube, I find that there are over 1 million videos—ranging from ones about me to old 90’s videos of them. I pick the first 90’s looking one I see. Turns out it’s of my first photo shoot as an infant. 

There I am, swaddled up in my mother’s arms. My parents are looking down at me like I’m made of pure gold. I’m looking up at them like I don’t have a care in the world.

I listen to the reporter talk about how frantic the birth was, but how now the country finally has an heir to the throne. 

Then my dad starts talking again. I slip on my earbuds to hear his voice better. Maybe it will actually calm me down, instead of making my anxiety worse.

It does.

With the new earbuds I just got for the plane ride down to Florida next week, I can hear him so clearly—it’s almost like he’s right here with me. Instead of tears streaming down my face, I'm smiling.

“She’s got my eyes, but she really looks more like Evie,” he says with a smile. I smile at the nickname he gave my mom. It’s pretty clear these two loved each other very much.

And then, for the first time in my life, I hear my biological mother’s voice.

“She’s named after his grandmother and my mother—Anna and Maria. It’s a good thing she’s a girl, though. We were having a tough time agreeing on the boy names.”

Her voice is sweet and soothing. For some reason it sounds… better to my ears than mom’s does. 

With lightening speed I click on the best looking video in the related section. This one is of them attending a gala in Denmark. My mom looks so beautiful in a plain black gown. The magnificent tiara and jewelry she’s wearing makes up for it’s simplicity. Dad looks dashing as ever, in his military dress uniform. 

I watch as the video rolls of them interacting with other royals. Most of them are related to my family tree, so kisses on the cheek are exchanged often. 

Their smiles look so genuine. They look so happy… did they know about the plot Dmitry was cooking up back then? Did they know that there was a conspiracy to kill them? I mean, Ben and I have known about every assassination attempt, so it only makes sense that they knew too.

I spend a little more time than I originally intended looking and listening to them. I don’t even notice when mom creeps up behind me until she places a hand on my shoulder.

She tugs one earbud out of my ear and says, “I was waiting for you to do this.”

It’s kind of awkward. I love her, and dad—but I just really wanted to know what my “real” parents looked like and sounded like. Is that wrong? It feels wrong somehow.

“Did Gabe and Marc tell you?” I ask, picking at my nails—the nervous habit has come back again.

She sighs, “Yes, and that wasn’t very considerate of your teacher. You know, some people are going to be like that, Annie. They’re going to try to get to you. But, on the upside, it’s finally convinced you to research them.”

“You’re not upset?” I ask quietly. She and dad have been my parents, so it must be at least kind of hard to watch me look at other people. Does she think I don’t appreciate them anymore?

“Upset? No, why would I be upset? Honey, it’s perfectly normal for you to want to look at them,” her hand gives my shoulder a squeeze. “They definitely are something to look at,” she jokes.

I manage a small smile, but the sting from what happened earlier today is still there. Albion is definitely on my shit list now.

“Why don’t you get some sleep, honey? It’s already eleven and you have practice in the morning.”

Sleep sounds so unappealing right now, but instead of protesting I give her a kiss on the cheek goodnight and shut my laptop. 

My phone lights up as she walks out of the room. It’s Ben, and he apparently is being kept up all night for tests.

That means another sleepless night for me, too.

———————

*this chapter is not edited, my apologies but I just wanted to get it up for you guys*

Okay, so the picture on the right is my sad excuse for a photoshop of Anna’s parents together. Just remember that they were in their early twenties when they had Anna, so naturally I picked younger actors… oh, and Chris Pine has the exact color I imagine Anna’s eyes being! :)

I know this was kind of boring, but don’t worry the next update will be better because the girls are heading down to Florida for Nationals! And you know how much Anna just loves airports *sarcasm*. 

Thanks again so much for reading, and let me know what you guys think! I love receiving comments! & don’t forget to vote :D

P.S. What would YOU like to see happen to Anna and the girls in Disney World? Give me some help brainstorming some shenanigans up for future chapters!