Maggie Malone Gets the Royal Treatment (6 page)

When I Am Nearly Killed by a Scone

My mouth is hanging open and I'm wondering what I could possibly say to make Princess Penelope hate me a little less when I hear a man's voice coming from the front of the limo.

“Everything all right back there, Your Highnesses?” he asks, lowering the glass between us just a few inches.

Penelope glares at me.

“Oh! Umm… we're grand, thanks,” I say. “Just joking around, you know. Giving each other the old punch in the gut.”

“Very well,” he says, raising the glass again.

“Oh, so that's how it's going to be now?” Penelope says. I don't have time to ask her what she means by that, because right then, we pull up in front of Winfordshire Abbey.

I have never seen a building like this in my life! It's the size of thirty churches all smushed together, with towers and arches and ten thousand spiky things sticking up out of the top. It looks like a fort or a fortress, and not one tiny bit like the Buffalo Lodge where Grandpa Flannery's gotten hitched at least half a dozen times.

A man in a fancy red suit and hat opens the limo door, and I get out and join the other bridesmaids. There are six of them and they are all wearing the same buttoned-up baby dress as me and Penelope. Crowds of people are lined up behind metal gates, screaming at me like I'm a famous rock star or something. I notice that Penelope hasn't gotten out of the limo.
That's weird. Maybe she's really nervous or got snatched up by aliens or something.
I won't tell you which one I'm hoping for.

I grin like a crazy person and lift my right arm to give the famous princess wave. I keep smiling and start tilting my head and turning my hand left to right. I'm really getting into it when out of nowhere, Amelia rushes over, puts a giant silk cape over my shoulders, and practically pushes me into the abbey.

What
gives? That was really fun! I was having my first real Princess Mimi moment!

“Unfortunately, it seems you've sat in something vile and it has attached itself to your backside,” Amelia says, looking horrified.

“What? How could that have—“ I crane my neck around to have a look. I feel dizzy when I see it: a blob of…it looks like
peanut
butter
…the size of Texas smeared across my butt. And it just so happens I am
deathly
allergic to peanut butter.

“Oh my goodness, Amelia, I can't…” I gasp, grabbing her arm to keep myself from falling. “I can't…breathe
.
And why is the room spinning like that? Who turned off the lights? I'm going to die! I'm going to
die
!!!”

“Princess Wilhelmina, get hold of yourself,” she says sternly, gripping my shoulders. “As disastrous as this is, I am fairly certain that a bit of molasses is not going to
kill
you.”

“Molasses?” I ask. “What is? But how? I didn't—”

Just then Princess Penelope bursts into the abbey.

“Oh, Mimi, I heard what happened,” she says. “How terribly awful of me to leave my scone on the limousine seat like that. Is there anything I can do? I am so,
so
very sorry.” The funny thing is, she doesn't look—or sound—one tiny bit sorry.

“What's done is done,” Amelia says. “It's a good thing the Crown Cape lives here at Winfordshire Abbey.”

“She gets to wear the
Crown
Cape
?” Penelope spits, her face turning practically purple. “All day long? Surely you don't mean in the
actual
wedding
?”

“Have you another idea, Penelope?” Amelia asks, pointing at my backside.

“But the Crown Cape belongs to Her Majesty the Queen!” Penelope cries. “If Mimi wears it, everyone will think she's the queen's favorite.”

“So be it,” Amelia says, turning from Penelope and fastening the cape's jeweled clasp at my neck.

Penelope squares her shoulders and looks me dead in the eye.
You'll be sorry
, she mouths before marching off to join the rest of the bridal party.

Is
this
royally
happening?

“Try not to sit in anything else sticky,” Amelia scolds as she steers me to the altar where the wedding party is lining up for pictures. “There's no backup Crown Cape, you know.”

Half of England is standing in near-perfect rows across the altar of Winfordshire Abbey. Amelia leads me to one side and I fall into line, toward the back.

“Lovely, brilliant,” says the photographer. “But Princess Wilhelmina? Kindly move to the front row, center. Yes, right there in Princess Clementine's spot. We mustn't let that Crown Cape get lost in these photographs. That's it. Now a bit to the left. Ah, jolly good! A few close-ups of you now for the media, Princess Wilhelmina.”

Something
tells
me
Princess
Penelope
is
going
to
make
me
pay
for
this
, I think, taking a deep breath and plastering a smile across my face.

When I Sort of Save the Day

After ten kajillion pictures—and as many evil glares from Penelope—it's finally time for the actual Royal Wedding. The moment I've been waiting for! Sure, I'm a little nervous—but really, how badly could I mess this up?

Even though it's the size of a mall, Winfordshire Abbey is packed like a can of sardines with women in crazy hats with feathers and wings and gigantic bows and men who look like they just stepped out of
The
Nutcracker.
This Wincastle place sure has a weird sense of style.

All of us big-fat-baby-dresses are in the back, being paired up with our escorts. An orchestra starts playing this creepy, sleepy music as Amelia shuffles us into position. She fluffs the Crown Cape so that it drapes perfectly around my shoulders, with the bottom pooling softly at my feet.

Suddenly the organ plays three sharp notes, and every person in the abbey stands. You could hear a pin drop in this place. A side door opens and in walks Clementine's uncle, Prince Alexander, and on his arm is Her Royal Majesty Queen Millicent III. She's, like, the mother of all royalty! My mom has a plate with her face on it and I'm right here in the same room with her. I swear, sometimes this whole MMB thing is hard even for
me
to believe.

Once Her Royal Majesty is seated, it's showtime. Prince Henry and I are second in line, just behind the flower girl and the ring bearer. Princess Penelope and Lord Harold are right behind us.

The flower girl, Princess Sophie, is the cutest little thing I have ever seen. She's got these rosy cheeks and this golden blond hair that she gets to wear down (lucky!). Of course she's wearing the big fat baby dress too—but she looks like an angel in hers, especially with that pretty wreath of flowers on top of her head. It looks like a halo. Her brother, Prince Valdemar, has the same golden hair and a dusting of freckles across his little button of a nose.

It's hard to believe these two kids might be running a whole country someday. They're just too cute for words.

The organ strikes up a new song, and the lady in charge of the little kids gives them a gentle nudge. Prince Valdemar has his arm linked in Princess Sophie's. They look like a miniature bride and groom. I just want to pinch their adorable little cheeks.

“No, Henrietta!” Princess Sophie says suddenly.

“What do you mean
no
?” Henrietta, Princess Sophie's governess, asks.

“I'm not going!” Princess Sophie says, even louder this time.

“You're
not
going
?” Henrietta whispers back, confused.

“I am not going down that aisle and you can't make me,” Princess Sophie says. With her British accent, she sounds exactly like that bratty I-want-an-Oompa-Loompa-
now
girl from
Willy
Wonka
& the Chocolate Factory
.

“Of course you are, dear,” says Henrietta, giving her another push.

“Am not, am not, am not!” Princess Sophie screams. She's waving her arms and jumping up and down, and people in the abbey begin to turn around. Poor Prince Valdemar is looking down at his shiny shoes and trying not to cry.

“Princess Sophie, I have had
enough
of
this
behavior
,” Henrietta whispers angrily, grabbing her tiny arm. “You are expected to act like a lady at all times, and you will obey my orders, do you hear me?”

“I am not going and you cannot make me, Henrietta hog face!” Princess Sophie yells this last bit at full volume, and the entire abbey full of guests gasps at the same time. Now every head is twisted around to watch the show. Henrietta's nose does turn up a bit at the end, but I think “hog face” is a little harsh.

“Princess Sophie,” I whisper, kneeling down. “What's the matter? Are you nervous about going down the aisle?” She nods her head and a tear slips down her cheek.

“I am too,” I tell her with a wink. She smiles a thin, close-lipped smile. “I'll bet Princess Clementine is more nervous than both of us put together, don't you think?”

Princess Sophie nods her head and wipes the tear away with the back of her hand.

“And what do you suppose would happen if
she
refused to go down the aisle?” I ask her.

“There wouldn't be a royal wedding at all!” the little princess mumbles, looking down sadly.

“We wouldn't want to give her any ideas then, would we?” I ask.

“No, I suppose not,” she agrees. “But I still can't do it.”

“Of course you can,” I tell her gently.

“But I haven't any teef,” she says, looking up at me and opening her mouth widely. She's got a huge hole where her two front teeth should be.

“Oh, sweetie, you lost your front teeth!” I say, all excitedly. “That's fantastic! Congratulations! Have you shown Princess Clementine yet? That's very good luck on a wedding day, you know.”

“It is?” she asks, looking a tiny bit hopeful.

“Oh yes,” I say, scrambling to make up a good story. “Yes, when someone in the wedding party loses a tooth just before the wedding, it's a sign that the bride and groom will live a long, happy, smiling life together.”

“I didn't know that!” she says with a big grin.

“How lucky is Princess Clementine?” I ask her. “And all because of you. Now don't forget to smile really big when you walk down that aisle, so everyone can see all of that good luck.”

She nods at me, then slips her arm back through Prince Valdemar's. He's grinning like a fool.

“Leave the smiling to me, Valdemar,” Princess Sophie tells her brother, giving his arm a nice tug.

“Well, look who just saved the day,” Princess Penelope hisses into my ear. I pretend not to hear her. Right now, all I care about is getting down this aisle without tripping or fainting, like you always see on TV.

When I Am Practically Strangled to Death

Princess Sophie is really working the crowd with that smile, so it takes her and Prince Valdemar about a year to get to the altar. The waiting is killing me. Let's get this show on the road, people! I only have one day as Princess Mimi, and I'd rather not spend it standing in the back of an abbey, even if it is a really famous and beautiful one.

Finally the little kids are at the altar. Amelia gives me a weak smile and a tiny nod.

“Princess?” whispers Prince Henry, offering me his arm. Not to be all gushy, but Penelope was right: Henry is way cuter than Lord Harold. In fact, he might be the cutest boy I have ever seen. Way cuter than Jake Ritchie and maybe even cuter than Justin Crowe. I link my arm with his and smile nervously. My knees are wobbling and my hands feel like two wet noodles. I can feel Penelope's hot, angry breath on my neck, but there's nothing I can do about it.

Settle
down, you silly stomach butterflies. I won't let you ruin my royal moment!

With my arm linked in Prince Henry's, I take my first step forward. At least I try to, but suddenly I feel as if I'm being strangled and I start to tip backward. I squeeze Prince Henry's arm tighter, gasping for air, and try to straighten back up.

Am I fainting? It happens all the time in weddings on that show
Real
Funny
Videos
. Usually it's the groom who goes down, though, and normally it's during a really boring part of the wedding. I haven't even made it out of the gate!

I try to take a step again but something is seriously strangling me.

That
wicked
witch
is
trying
to
kill
me
, I realize.
She's wrapped her paws around my neck and I'm going to die right here in Winfordshire Abbey. In this hideous, horrible, big fat baby dress! With a kazillion people watching!

She wouldn't do that, would she? I mean, she's definitely awful, but I think murder is too evil—even for Princess Penelope.

I wave my one free arm wildly. It's as if there's a rope around my neck and someone is yanking on it as hard as they can. It's no use fighting it; the pull is too strong. I'm starting to see stars and the room is beginning to spin. I'm tipping back and I can't stop it, and everything feels like it's in slow motion.

I
hope
my
underwear
isn't showing when I land
, is all I can think. I stop waving my free arm and use it to hold down the front of my big fat baby dress, just in case.

Wow, the ceiling of this abbey is amazing
, I notice as I continue to tip.

Right before I hit the ground, Prince Henry figures out what's going on and sweeps me back upright. His arm locked tightly with mine, he gives the back of the Crown Cape a nice tug with his other hand. I can breathe again! I shake my head to get some blood back into it. The abbey comes back into focus and I realize I'm not going to die in a big fat baby dress. Oh, happy day.

“I beg your pardon,” Princess Penelope whispers sweetly into my ear. “It seems I was accidentally standing on the Crown Cape! Silly, careless me. Carry on, please.”

“You, Penelope, are rotten to the core,” Prince Henry hisses over his shoulder. “You always have been and you always will be. You are a disgrace to the crown and to all of Wincastle as well. If I weren't a gentleman, I'd tell you precisely what horrible hopes I have for you.”

Prince Henry turns to me, his face a sea of big green eyes with the sweetest smile I have ever seen. “Now, if you are ready, Princess Mimi, I'd be honored to walk a true princess down the aisle as she deserves.”

I nod furiously, because I don't trust myself to speak at the moment and I don't know what else to do. I don't dare look back at Princess Puckerface, that's for sure. Instead, I take a deep breath and take my first actual step down the aisle. I am arm-in-arm with the handsomest prince in all of England, the Crown Cape swishes prettily behind me, and not one person in that abbey knows about the Texas-size stain across my backside. My smile must be even bigger than Princess Sophie's.
Good
always
beats
evil
, I think in my head.

It turns out, evil doesn't give up all that easily.