The Royal Treatment (6 page)

Seriously, WHAT IF SHE WAS HERE WITH KARL?

“She’s right over there.” The girl gave a discreet nod, and there was Elsa, dressed in a steel gray Empire-waisted gown, her blond hair wrapped in a loose bun. Disappointment punched me when I realized she was alone. No, it was good. No need to complicate the love triangle.

Okay, Karl had no idea I existed, so it was more like a love line.

“I can’t believe she came,” said the girl. “She’s pretty enough, but I doubt I’d join the scene if I had her grandmother’s reputation to live down. I can’t decide if she’s brave or stupid.”

“She’s not stupid,” I said.

“Wait, I thought you said your throat hurt.” Goldilocks scowled. “And how do you know her?”

I coughed, making my voice scratchy. “She could be nice. I don’t know.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gavin approaching. Goldilocks was still blocking the door to the bathroom. I had nowhere to go. He bowed. “Ladies.”

Goldilocks giggled. I swallowed.

“Millie, may I grant upon you the the honor of dancing with me?”

Grrrrrrrreat. I tapped on my throat.

He shook his head.

“The orphans will have to live with it if I get sick. Tonight, we dance!”

G
avin took my hand and led me to the floor. Like most everything in the time right before the French Revolution, the minuet is pure fluff. Lots of slow turns and twirls and bows and tiptoeing around. The styles then were not particularly masculine, and so it was far from attractive to see Gavin in his ghastly knickers (with bows, BOWS), his chest puffed out as he pranced around the floor.

I did my best to concentrate on the steps I’d practiced over the summer. I was doing well enough until Elsa joined midway through. It was hard not to look at the girl I had pretended to be; but really, everyone in the room was watching her anyway. She moved through the steps with ease, like she’d always been in royal circles and not milking goats just last summer.

We made eye contact once, when she caught me staring. Elsa narrowed her eyes like she was trying to place my face. The scrutiny shouldn’t have worried me—she wasn’t seeing
my
face, after all. But we were still linked in a weird way. Maybe that’s what she sensed.

The costume didn’t help matters much. I might have looked like Millie on the outside, but my insides were still Desi. The hearty meal I’d indulged in with Genevieve did not go well with the tight dress. And Gavin was sweating. And he smelled like a hunting hound trapped in nylon. And did I mention the knicker bows?

The music, thankfully, ended, and I turned to escape.

“Another?” Gavin asked, his eyes bright.

I tried to pull away from his firm grip. “Need to find my aunt.”

“But when will we have the opportunity to dance again?”

“Hopefully never.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh, um, it could be forever!”

The next dance started, this time a bourrée, which was much more lively and quick. The splendor and sounds whirled around me. I felt like I was Donna Reed in
It’s a Wonderful Life,
except in Technicolor. Really bright Technicolor. Like, I-want-to-throw-up-now-the-lights-are-all-flashing
Technicolor.

The colors blurred into blackness. Not good. Not good AT ALL. I searched wildly and made eye contact with Elsa again. She broke away from her partner, rushed over, and hugged me. No,
pretended
to hug me. She was actually holding me up.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your dance, but hi! I’m so happy to see you!”

I was too busy inhaling air to ask how the heck Elsa knew Millie. Not only was this Elsa’s first royal event, but Goldilocks had made it clear that these two ran in very different circles.

“Um, you too?”

“Can I steal her away?” she asked Gavin. “It’s been so long, and I want to make sure we get a moment before the night ends.”

Gavin didn’t answer at first, probably because he was too busy staring at Elsa in complete awe. “Of…of course. And I don’t believe
we’ve
been introduced. I would remember if we had.” He bowed. “I’m Lord Gavin.”

Elsa gave a royal nod. “A pleasure, my lord. I am Princess Elsa of Holdenzastein.”

“The pleasure is mine, Your Highness.
All mine.”
Gavin chortled.

I choked back a laugh. What I wouldn’t give to tell Kylee about this clown.

“Now, please pardon us.” Elsa squeezed my elbow. “I’ll return her later.”

We wove back into the museum lobby and found a bench. The stars winked through the triangular windowpanes of the pyramid.

“I hope that wasn’t presumptuous of me, but you looked like you needed some help in there. Here, I’ll get you some water.” Elsa left, returning with a tall glass. She waited until I was done gulping before she spoke. “I’m Elsa.”

So they didn’t know each other. I dabbed at my forehead with Millie’s lacy handkerchief. “Millie. Well, Princess Millie.”

Elsa’s face reddened. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to titles. I’m close enough to the royals I know that we don’t use them.”

Close to the royals
. Close to Prince Karl. The words sliced through me. I painted on a smile. “You saved me. You can call me whatever you want.”

“Do you feel all right now?”

“Yes. Corsets.”

“Silliest invention ever. I cheated and went into the early nineteenth century with my costume.”

“Your dress is gorgeous, by the way.”

She fingered the fabric. “Thanks. My nana made it, actually. But if anyone else asks me the designer, I’ll make up someone that sounds really French.”

I laughed. I liked her. She was how she seemed in her journal—down-to-earth. Funnier than I would have thought, and more assertive.

“So who are the royals in your social circle? Any…cute boys?” I asked. I knew what her answer would be. I knew it would hurt to hear it. But I still had to ask.

“Oh, just family.” Elsa’s voice was guarded. “This is one of my first events.”

Was the cute-boy question too personal? I wanted Elsa to feel comfortable around me. Around Millie. Despite the two-year age difference, I could see them being friends. So I did what Millie did best: I chattered. “I’m traveling with my aunt this season. She’s big on keeping her schedule packed. It’s been fun, but these events can get old. Always having to be ON, you know? And some of the people are…well, you met Gavin.”

“I’m sure he’s a nice enough boy, but…” Elsa shuddered. “Those bows on his pants were horrific.”

“I had drama with him in the past. This girl at school told him that I liked him, so he went and blabbed that around and acted way better than me and…Sorry.” Wow, I was getting good at this rambling thing. “It’s a long story.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to sit back and listen for a while. I’m on display tonight, what with this being a debut for me. I almost feel like it’s not real, you know? Like I’m only pretending to be someone else. Do you ever feel like that?”

It’s in my job description.
“I think that’s part of being royal. Putting on airs. Which is why I’m so grateful that you saved me from having to pretend to care what Gavin was saying.”

“You can pay me back someday.” Elsa jumped up from the bench. “Now, speaking of putting on airs, I need to go talk to another of my nana’s enemies and try to repair old wounds. I hope we meet again, Princess Millie.”

Elsa melted back into the throngs, smiling and chatting like she’d worked similar rooms million of times. I found Auntie Ostrich and stayed with her for the final hours of the party, gabbing to her friends about Millie’s frivolous life details (string beans are
way
better than peas!). The corset and constant conversation exhausted me, enough that I nearly cried tears of relief when my Rouge timer went off while Auntie Ostrich and I were in the hotel elevator, on the way up to our suite.

“What’s that sound?” she asked.

The timer hardly made a noise. It just vibrated. Sheesh, aren’t old people supposed to have hearing problems?

“Nothing.” I clutched my purse tightly. “Must be my dress rustling.”

The elevator door opened. Auntie’s bodyguard took her hand and helped her out. I ran over to the door of our penthouse suite, the only door on the floor.

“Be patient,” she scolded me as the bodyguard slid the key into the lock. “Your anxiousness is hardly ladylike.”

I could feel the corset loosening, which also meant the rouge was wearing off. My clock had struck midnight, and I had to get away from Auntie Ostrich before she saw me turn into a pumpkin.

“I have to…I have to use the little princess room,” I said.

Auntie Ostrich wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Gracious! Then hurry. Go change and wash up as well. And when you return, we must have a talk about your vulgarity.”

I’m sure Millie wasn’t going to like her welcome-home lecture, but what could I do? I turned to my room.

“Millie?” Auntie Ostrich paused. “Are you feeling well? You seem…well, you seem
taller.”

“I’m fine,” I replied, but Millie’s voice sounded too much like my own. I yanked open the door and locked it behind me. “Just had a long evening.” I called.

The bubble was already waiting in Millie’s room. Auntie Ostrich pounded on the door. “Now you have me concerned. Did something make you ill?”

I garbled a reply before sticking one leg into the bubble. The last thing I saw was another bubble nearby and the real Millie stepping out. She froze when she saw me. Who knows what she saw—half Desi, half her. I mouthed, “Pretend you’re sick,” before I disappeared into Meredith’s office.

I better not have blown my cover in those last few moments. Sub Spottings are HUGE deals at Façade. I looked to Meredith, who sat at her desk, fuming.

“Sit down,” she ordered.

I sighed. Unlike Cinderella, it seemed I hadn’t made it out in time.

M
eredith pounded her hand on the desk. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I couldn’t get away! We’re lucky I didn’t start to transform in the elevator. Couldn’t you guys give me more notice? Millie told me not to get caught by her aunt, and now I’m sure—”

“No one cares about
that
.”

“I care! I was doing great before the Rouge wore off, and that’s saying a lot considering how stupid the whole thing was. Dumb paintings and corsets and silly dancing and—”

“I’m not talking about your
gig
. You didn’t have a large overlap. You weren’t Sub Spotted.”

“I’m not going to get sub sanitized then?” I shuddered at the idea. Sub sanitizing involved having a sub’s entire experience washed from memory.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Sometimes the Rouge schedule is off—that’s not your fault.”

I slumped into the chair opposite Meredith. The way we transitioned in and out of these jobs was risky. It would have been awful to make it through all the rest of the night’s craziness, only to change back into Desi and blow Millie’s cover. “Then why are you…interrogating me?”

“I’d like you to explain this.” Meredith held out a silver business card. Printed in red ink on very thick paper were the words,
Please call Genevieve.

I took the card and flipped to the back. There was a symbol of an Egyptian beetle and nothing else. “No contact information. Haven’t you guys thought of cell phones?”

“That calling cards gives you
permission
to call upon her if you need to. With this card, all you have to do is say her name out loud and she’ll contact you. She didn’t give
me
one until I was an agent. So I’d like to know what went down at Dorshire Hall that would make her bestow one on a spanking-new Level Two.”

“Noth…nothing. We talked about magic. The history…general stuff.”

“Well, it couldn’t have been
too
general. She’s taken an interest in you. She wants you to report back if you have any magical occurrences. Did you have anything magical happen on this last job?”

“No.” Dancing with Gavin was anything but magical. “I tried, actually, but nothing came. I used common sense and Millie’s princess profile. Same stuff I did as a Level One, except everything went more by the book.”

“Humph.” Meredith sat down on the couch and rubbed her temples. “So we’re clear here, you didn’t say anything about
me
to Genevieve. Anything that could hurt my chances at this promotion. Anything…personal.”

I widened my eyes. The anger and suspicion all made sense now. She thought I’d snitched about her prince. “Meredith. Of course not. I would never say anything bad about you. We did talk about your hair. And Genevieve said you were a hardworking sub.”

“Good.” Meredith shot me another murderous look. “Because if you ever did—”

“I’m not Lilith.”

Meredith blew out a breath. “You’re right. You’re not.” She paused. “Well, you have that card. Be careful with it. This agency…You don’t have to tell them everything. You never know how the information, or even your talents, might be used. So think before you speak. Understood?”

“But I have nothing to hide.”

“Of course
you
don’t.” Meredith pushed her chair back. “Well! You should probably change before you get back to your play auditions. Your clothes and gift basket are by the couch. Take out what you need, and I’ll drop the rest off in your bedroom on my way out of town.”

“All right,” I said slowly. The only thing that scared me more than Meredith being feisty was Meredith faking nice. After she closed her office door, I changed back into my jeans, ditching the Shakespeare T-shirt for one of my new tops—robin’s egg blue with ruffles down the neckline. Most important, it was a lightweight fabric that would save me from further sweating disasters.

Because of the Law of Duplicity, I’d only left the high school theater bathroom a second before, so it was still empty when I exited the bubble. It always took me a moment to realize where I was, what time it was.
Who
I was. Desi. Back to Desi, who was still in the middle of auditions.

Auditions. Stress! Still…better than a Gavin chat. Kissing Lilith’s feet would be better than a Gavin chat.

I splashed cold water on my face, patted it dry with a scratchy paper towel, and thought of the luxurious hand towels waiting for me in my basket. And the calling card in my back pocket. I pulled it out and rubbed my fingers over the embossed lettering. Would I ever use it? What would happen when I called Genevieve? Did she only want to know if I felt magic at work, or at home too? And why did Genevieve give it to
me
of all people?

The bathroom door swung open, and I shoved the card into my back pocket.

Kylee grinned when she saw me. “What’s taking you so long?”

Just had to use the bathroom. Oh, and hop over to Paris.

Exciting things are always
more
exciting when you can talk about them, not lock them away. I swallowed back the urge to tell Kylee everything. “Um…just easing my nerves.”

“I saw Reed!” Kylee said. “He did such an amazing job. He’s like…who’s that New Zealand actor? The tall one? That’s going to bug me. Anyway, I sat two rows back from him and almost got up the nerve to say hi, which I’m going to count as a win.…Hey. Where did you get that shirt?”

Whoops. I was so glad to be free of the sweat trap, I didn’t even think about a costume change explanation, especially to someone as observant as Kylee. I tugged on the hem.

“I brought an extra. My
SHAKESPEARE ROCKETH
shirt was so tight, it got all sweaty. Besides”—my laugh rang out high and false—“it’s the theater! Costume changes are part of the deal.”

“I’ve never seen you wear it before.”

“It’s new.”

“It’s cute. Where did you get it?”

“My mom bought it for me.”

Kylee came closer and checked the back tag. “Desi, it’s by Floressa Chase. That shirt had to cost over a hundred dollars.”

“Really?” I fingered the fabric. “My mom probably got it on sale.”

Kylee shook her head. “Anyway, they’re about to call people to do to partner readings. You ready?”

I pushed my hair away from my face and smoothed out my shirt. It’s amazing what a quick stint as a princess can do for your acting confidence.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Kylee and I linked arms and walked into the theater.

I stayed up that night, worrying about Genevieve’s calling card, picturing the look on Meredith’s face when she said to be careful. Be careful of what?

And I had other questions to consider. Was I in trouble? Did Genevieve trust me? Was Façade reconsidering my advancement? They had to be pleased with my performance. Aside from the messy bubble exit, I’d done everything Millie asked. And my other clients were happy—I saw firsthand how well I’d positively impacted Elsa’s life. And the customer is always right. Right?

It was past midnight when I finally fell asleep.

By four the next afternoon, I’d swigged three Mountain Dews to give me the energy to face the cast list being posted any minute in the high school cafeteria. I took a seat away from the cliques and stared at the mural of the school mascot, the Spud (which was a large potato. Yes, the other teams always threatened to mash us. At least we weren’t the Boise Beets). After five minutes of examining the Spudster, I got out the new BEST list Meredith had sent that morning.

The tasks read more like a celebrity-assistant checklist than a mastery of royal skills. I could check through them in weeks, rather than the months it initially took me to prepare for Millie:

1. Acting
   
2. Celebrity gossip
   
3. Familiarity with the fashion industry, including relevant designers and their point of view
   
4. Fashion design and basic sewing skills
   
5. Yachting
   

This princess was going to be awesome, but the list still had its challenges. Yachting? How do you practice yachting in Sproutville? And I designed my own T-shirts, but I didn’t follow the latest trends. Plus, I could hardly sew on a button.

My gaze returned to the Spud as I strategized ways I could fit BEST into my schoolwork. My view was soon blocked, however, by Celeste and Hayden. I gave them a polite,
why-are-you-standing-here
smile.

Hayden pulled out a seat and sat at my table. “Hey, Daisy.”

“You don’t need to sit by her.” Celeste rolled her eyes. “We’re already on the edge of dorkdom as eighth graders here, no need to go completely geek.”

“Sorry, babe.” Hayden stood. “Can we hurry, though? I have practice at five.”

“I said I have to ask her something.”

“Hi,” I finally said. “I’m guessing I’m ‘her,’ right? So I’m sitting right here in case you want to have a conversation
with
me instead of
about
me.”

“Oh.” Celeste flipped her hair. “Your mom was supposed to give me a ride home, but I’m going to Hayden’s practice instead. But tell her we’re still on for my fitting next week. And we have to turn in our head shots for the pageant Web site.”

“Sure. I love being your messenger girl.”

Either my sarcasm was lost on Celeste or she chose to ignore it, because I went right back to being invisible. “Now that
that’s
over with, I need some candy.”

Hayden nuzzled her neck. “I can give you some sugar.”

It took every ounce of self-control not to gag. Luckily, a girl walked into the cafeteria with a piece of white paper in hand, which she stuck on the announcement board. Celeste forgot my invisibility and looked at me, wide-eyed. “Do you think that’s—”

I shot out of my chair. “The cast list.”

We rushed over to the glowing white paper. Celeste pushed her way through the crowd. “Peaseblossom! A fairy! I’m one of the main fairies! OMG, I’m going to look so fabulous.”

Hayden snatched her to the side and proceeded to give her a victory kiss. Great. There were probably two parts actually going to eighth graders, and of course Celeste got one of them. Now she would have to squeeze rehearsals in between all her time bonding with my mother and practicing her pageant wave. I shrank back from the crowd, waiting for a turn.

Someone tapped my shoulder and whispered, “Did you see your name yet?”

I glanced back at Reed, who wore a confident smile and a vintage plaid shirt. “I’m too nervous.”

“Do you need some muscle?”

“I’ll wait.”

“Oh, come on. You’re dying to know. So am I.” Reed tugged on my arm and led me through the mob. I bit a hangnail as he scanned down the female sheet.

“That’s too bad.”

“I’m not on there, am I? Now I’m going to have to listen to Celeste go on about her fairy-ness—”

“Oh, no. You’re on there. It’s too bad for that Celeste girl. She’s going to have some serious jealousy issues.”

“Really? Why?”

“Look at the top.” Reed gave my arm a playful squeeze. “You’re Titania. The Queen of the Fairies.”

My stomach dropped down into my intestines, where it proceeded to do a dance and twist itself around all my other organs until my entire body was one inner-dancing bounty of glee. I breathed deeply, trying to control the frenzy of emotions that were overtaking me. It wasn’t like the buzzing I’d felt during auditions. No, this was a Moment. A real-life, nothing to do with subbing or Celeste or anyone but me
Moment.

I got one of the girl leads. As an eighth grader.

Seriously, aside from the whole job-as-a-substitute-princess thing, this was the biggest news in my life. Weren’t fairies usually petite like Celeste? I hope the boys weren’t short. Boys. I hadn’t even scanned those yet. Celeste was already in front of the list.

“I’ll talk to someone.” She turned to Hayden and made a pouty face. “You have to get a part! I’ll be so lonely without you.”

Hayden could barely keep from smiling with relief. “I know, it’s a bummer, but I have soccer and stuff.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist. I caught a bit of their conversation as they walked toward the cafeteria doors. “I just want to be with you all the time.”

“Me too, babe. But you’re going to be hot as a fairy.”

“I know, right?”

They were so perfect for each other. It was almost embarrassing to think I had ever had a crush on that guy. Or been friends with Celeste. I felt like an entirely different person now. One who was STARRING IN A PLAY!

I stood there, in that cafeteria, until the crowd left and the noise quieted. When only a few stragglers remained, I got the courage to look at the cast list again. It was still there.
Desi Bascomb. Titania, Fairy Queen
.

I touched my name on the white paper.

Reed leaned against the wall, a smile playing on his lips. “Making sure it’s real?”

“You do you see my name up there, right? It’s not my wish turning into some alternative reality.”

“You’re a queen. Almost as good as an ass.”

“Sorry?”

“The ass. Donkey. Nick Bottom. The comic relief of the play.”

“You’re Bottom?”

“Yes. He’s the one who wanders into the forest and gets a donkey head halfway through, but you still like me, which is sweet. Kind of hurts that it’s all because of the love potion, but you’re married, so it’s probably for the best.”

“I know what happens in
Midsummer
. It’s just…you’re…you’re
Bottom
?”

“Hee-haw.” He tapped the sheet of paper, right by his name. “Gotta get going. See you at rehearsal.”

What Reed didn’t say was that Titania and Bottom had a kissing scene. And true, in a play with mixed identities and affections, there is bound to be kissing. But I hadn’t even considered the possibility of Reed and me kissing. Again and again. It wasn’t anything like the dunk tank incident—this was conscious, live, in-front-of-everyone (including my best friend)
kissing
.

Shakespeare was suddenly a lot more interesting.