"What... what is the meaning of this?" he asked.
"It's all my fault, Your Highness," Ingrid spoke up suddenly. She rushed forward to stand in front of the king and queen and gave a quick curtsy.
"Ingrid, no," Carina said, stepping forward and standing next to her friend. "You're not taking the blame for this. It was my fault."
I could tell Carina was shaking as she faced her parents, but she did her best to hide it. She lifted her chin and faced the music like ... like a true princess.
"Mom ... Dad ... I'd like you to meet Julia Johnson," Carina said, looking at me. "I paid her to impersonate me on my last night in the States so that I could go to a rock concert."
The queen's face fell in shock while the king quickly turned from red to a seriously disturbing shade of purple. Carina stepped back from him, anticipating a meltdown.
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"Are you trying to tell me that this ... this ... person has been living in our home for the past two days pretending to be you!?" the king shouted, looking at me with so much disgust I wanted to slap him, king or no king.
"Yeah!" I shouted, moving away from my mother and toward the royal family, my skirts sweeping behind me. "And you couldn't even tell the difference!" I said right to his face.
Carina looked at me, her mouth open and her eyes welling up with tears.
"How dare you speak to me that way!" the king shouted.
"Wait a minute, you really didn't notice she wasn't me?" Carina asked, a tear spilling over. She moved away from her parents, looking at them like they were aliens. "Did you, Mom? Did you know?"
"Carina, of course I knew," the queen said, walking up to Carina and wrapping her up in her arms.
"But Dad didn't," Carina said, looking at her father, who finally seemed to realize what he'd done. He averted his gaze from his daughter and wife, clearly ashamed.
"Carina--"
"I know, go to my room, right?" Carina said, crying freely now. "You just want me out of your sight. Like always!"
She pulled away from her mother and ran right by me and up the stairs. Ingrid turned to follow, but the queen laid a hand on her shoulder.
"I think her father and I should go," she said softly,
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looking at her husband meaningfully. Then she turned to Markus's father, who I'd forgotten was even in the room. He stood, hovering by the front door, clearly wishing he could disappear.
"Maurice, would you please go in and make our apologies to our guests?" the queen asked. "Everyone is welcome to stay to dinner, but I don't believe we will be joining them."
"Of course, Your Majesty," Markus's father said with a quick bow.
Then the queen extended a hand to me. "I am Victoria, queen of the Republic of Vineland," she said.
I took her hand and curtsied as Carina had taught me to do. "Julia Johnson," I replied. "And may I present my mother, Sharon Johnson."
My mother shook hands with the king and queen. "I'm sorry we have to meet under such ... distressing circumstances," the queen said, smiling at my mother. "You know what it's like to have a teenager in the house."
"Absolutely," my mother said. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
The queen continued to smile at my mother, and then her eyes traveled up and rested on the red hat my mom was wearing. There was a moment of awkward silence in which my mother looked at me like, "What's up with this woman?" and then the queen spoke again.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Johnson, I was just noticing your lovely hat. Wherever did you get it?"
My mother reached up to touch the soft felt and blushed. "Oh ... I made it," she said.
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"Really?" the queen asked, obviously impressed. "It's beautiful. Anyway, would you and Julia like to stay for a few days while we sort this all out?"
"We'd love to," my mother said, looking at me again. I grinned back at her.
"Miss Goedecker," the king said, turning to Ingrid, "would you make sure our guests get settled in the east wing? We're going to go talk to our daughter."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Ingrid said with another curtsy.
Then Carina's parents started up the steps, arm in arm, talking in hushed voices. I looked at my mother, who was still blushing. But then she seemed to remember why, exactly, we were in a castle in a foreign country and her mouth settled into a straight line. I swallowed hard.
"So ...," I said. "You wanna kill me now or later?"
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***
Chapter 33
I was facedown on my bed, crying my exhausted eyes out, when I heard my parents approaching along the hall. The last thing I wanted was for them to find me having what they would call "one of my tantrums." Maybe they'd witnessed my breakdown in the front hall, but now I had to pull myself together. I was tired of being a big baby in their eyes.
I sat up, wiped my face with my hands, and pulled myself to the edge of the bed, swinging my legs over the side. The moment my bedroom door opened, I stood up to face them.
My mother walked in first. She swept right across the room and enveloped me in a hug. I grasped her back and held my breath to keep from crying again. When I saw my father, I turned away automatically. I couldn't even look at him.
"Carina, I don't know where to begin," my mother said, sitting down on my bed and pulling me beside her. I could smell the lilac scent of her perfume, and it was bizarrely comforting. "Are you all right? The thought of you alone in that city for the past couple of days ..."
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"I'm fine, Mom," I said wearily. "I took care of myself."
I glanced at my father, who was just sort of hovering in front of us, clasping and unclasping his hands. He pressed his lips together and looked away when he caught my eye. I'd never seen my father look so uncertain of anything in his life.
"What happened over there?" my mother asked. "What were you thinking, running away like that?"
Of course that was what they wanted to talk about. They wanted to know how I could have been so selfish and stupid and irresponsible. But my mother knew how I felt about the way my life was constantly planned out for me. This couldn't have come as that much of a shock to her. I was sure she was disappointed but not all that surprised. So why weren't we talking about my father and the fact that he didn't even know that Julia wasn't me?
I stared up at him, but he wouldn't even look at me. My heart hurt like my legs always did after a long ride or a marathon fencing lesson. Like it had been used too much and just couldn't deal anymore. Like it wanted to collapse.
"Mom, I know you're mad and I'll explain everything," I said. "I'm just so tired.... Can we talk about this in the morning?"
I just wanted them to go. I wanted my father gone so that I could stop feeling like this. Mom looked up at Dad with a question in her eyes, and for a moment I thought they were really going to give in. I was sure my father didn't want to wait around for me to remind him of what he'd done.
"I think we should talk about it now," he said.
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Suddenly a flash of anger took all the exhaustion right out of me. "Fine!" I said, standing. "If you want to talk, then let's talk about the fact that you didn't even realize that there was a stranger right under your nose! How do you think that makes me feel, Father?"
My eyes were brimming with tears again, but I wouldn't let them fall.
"That's exactly what I think we need to talk about," my father said, finally looking me full in the face.
I was so taken aback that I sat right down again.
My father took a deep breath and let it out his nose, his nostrils flaring. "Carina," he said. "I'm sorry. I ... I cannot possibly imagine how much I've hurt you. I truly am sorry."
I think my jaw hit the floor.
"Your mother always talks to me about how my traveling affects you. How my not being here affects you, but I've always told her ... and you ... that it's the way things are," my father continued, starting to pace. He walked over to the door and then faced me directly. Another firs
t. Eye contact during conversation was a big thing with my dad. "I never saw my father. He never saw his. That's the life of a royal son or daughter. That's the way it always has been."
"But that doesn't make it right," I heard myself say.
My father turned to look at me and my mother. "But that doesn't make it right," he repeated.
I swallowed hard, unable to believe what I was hearing. Was my father really taking the blame for something? Was he actually admitting he was wrong?
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"I was going to go back to Africa in a couple of days, but I think I'll cancel that," my father said. "The three of us have a lot of talking to do."
Oh, great, I thought instantly. A lot of talking. But then I realized it actually was kind of great. I had never heard my father talk about ditching a commitment. Never. My parents exchanged a smile and I let one tiny tear spill over.
"Carina, I won't pretend what you've done wasn't wrong," my mother said, taking my hand. "And don't think that you aren't going to be severely punished," she added, causing my stomach to turn. She squeezed my hand and looked up at my father. "But maybe something good will come out of all this confusion."
She stood up and gave me a hug, then ran her palm along my face, looking at me in that motherly way that always made me feel like I was five years old. But for the first time in a long time, it didn't make me flinch. Then I turned to my father, and suddenly he wrapped me up in his arms. My face was pressed against the medals he always wore on his breast for public events, but I didn't even care. My father was hugging me. Even Ingrid would never have believed this.
Maybe something good has already come out of this, I thought, smiling at my mother. And I could tell from the mistiness in her eyes that she was thinking the same thing.
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***
Chapter 34
The conversation with my mother was shorter and a lot less shower-scene-from- Psycho than I'd thought it would be. She made me explain everything. She grounded me for six weeks, and then she told me we would talk more in the morning. The flight had made her extremely tired and she wanted to lie down. So Ingrid took her up to a room in the east wing and I went off to find Markus. (I figured my grounding wouldn't officially start until we were back on our native soil.)
The palace was huge and I could think of only one place to look. If Markus wasn't there, I knew I would never find him. I wasn't sure which way I would be better off--finding him or never seeing him again. But I had to at least try to apologize. I owed him that much.
After a few wrong turns I finally found my way to the library. I opened the doors as quietly as possible and stepped into the dark, silent room. The air was cold and a chill ran down my arms, bringing up goose bumps on my skin. I wrapped my arms around myself and tiptoed into the room.
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"Markus?" I whispered.
There was a sudden movement a few feet away from me at one of the tables. My heart hit my throat and then a study light clicked on. Markus sat there, staring up at me, his face half shadowed, half bathed in the light.
"Who are you?" he asked harshly.
I walked over and pulled out the chair across from him. He followed me with his eyes as I tucked my skirt under me and sat down. I reached up, pulled the tiara from my hair, and placed it on the table between us. Markus looked at it blankly.
"My name is Julia Johnson," I said. "I'm sixteen years old ... I live in L.A. and I go to a school called Rosewood Academy. I'm not a princess. I'm not even rich."
His eyes narrowed at the last part, like money was the last thing on his mind--which I could imagine. I cleared my throat and sat up straight.
"I'm sorry I lied to you," I said, my voice shaking. "I'm sorry I pretended to be Carina. I--"
"Why did you do it?"
"She ... she wanted to get away ... see what it was like to not be a princess," I said, raising my shoulders.
"And you? What did you get out of it?" he asked.
I really didn't want to answer that question. I watched him for a moment, hoping he'd relent, but his expression never changed. It was like he was a stone version of his formerly animated self.
"I... she ... she paid me," I said, looking down.
"You did this for money?" Markus said, standing up and almost knocking over his chair.
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"We were about to get thrown out of our apartment!" I responded, standing up myself. "Not everyone lives like you guys do, Markus. Not everyone gets to fly around the world and rent amazing cars and buy property the size of a small country!"
Markus shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor. He clenched his jaw and I knew I'd gotten to him. When his gaze met mine again, there was a question in his eyes.
"Was anything you said that night--" He sighed and looked away. "Was anything about that night true? Or did Carina just tell you to make an idiot out of me?"
"No!" I said, stepping closer to him. I was so relieved that he didn't move away. "Carina didn't tell me to make an idiot out of you. I wasn't trying to make an idiot out of you."
He glanced at me hopefully and I really wanted to just" reach out and hug him, but I wasn't sure if he wanted me to. Standing there, so uncertain, with him only a foot away and still so untouchable, I felt very, very lonely.
"I just ... I didn't expect to ... like you so much," I said, looking up into his eyes. My heart was pounding so hard I could barely hear myself think. "I didn't expect to--"
"What?" Markus said, reaching out and taking my hand. "You didn't expect to what?"
I looked down at our hands, completely overwhelmed by everything. By him, by this moment, by our surroundings, by the fact that no matter what I said, after tonight there was no way I could ever see him again. He was going to be some ministry head in Vineland and I was
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going to go back to being just another scholarship student at Rosewood.
So just go for it, I told myself. You've got nothing else to lose.
"I didn't expect to fall in love with you," I said, tears filling my voice.
"I was so hoping you'd say that," Markus said with a laugh.
I looked up at him and held my breath.
"I love you, too, Julia Johnson from L.A.," he said with a heart-stopping grin. "In one stupid night I fell in love with you."
I laughed and he wrapped me up in his arms, lifting me off the floor. I was so totally relieved that I felt weak and limp and completely dizzy. When he replaced me on my own feet again, I held on to his arms for balance.
Then Markus touched my face with his fingertips, smiled a sweet little smile, and leaned in to kiss me. It was a kiss to end all kisses. And even though I knew it couldn't last, that this night would end and I'd have to leave him behind, I let myself go and decided to live the dream.
For the moment I was really a princess. And Markus was my prince.
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***
Chapter 35
The following day I went, by myself, to the hospital to visit my grandmother. Her eyes lit up when she saw me, and she reached out her hand to hold mine. I sat next to her bed for an hour and told her all about my trip to California and about Ribbit and the bus and Glenn, my knight in a cotton T-shirt. My grandmother smiled and laughed through the whole story, then told me about a time when she was sixteen and she ran off to go skiing in the Alps with some guy named Gustav.
I thought I was actually going to fall out of my chair. Go, Grandmamma!
Finally the doctors told me she had to get some rest, so I promised I would be back tomorrow and headed home. The hospital was pretty much the only place I was allowed to visit for the next few weeks, so at least Grandmamma was a good excuse to get out of the house. Besides, I wanted to pump her for more stories of her crazy youth! Maybe she could give me some pointers.
Not that I was planning on running away again anytime soon. That morning I'd actually had breakfast with
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both my parents (and Julia and her mom)
. My father actually laughed over some of the stories Julia told about what it was like to be me. I think he's really starting to remember the way he felt when he was still a teenage prince. The whole family-esque feeling in the room was kind of cool.
On the way home from the hospital I chewed on my nails until there was practically nothing left to chew on. I had asked Markus to meet me at the palace at two o'clock, and I still hadn't figured out exactly what I was going to say to him. I knew I wanted to apologize for ditching him in the States and leaving him with Julia. And then there was going to be something along the lines of, "Want to go out sometime after I'm off house arrest?" but I wasn't sure quite how to ask. Of course, the thing that was really tying my stomach in knots was the fact that I wasn't sure how he was going to react.
The night before, I had fought off exhaustion and spent hours on the phone with Ingrid, giving her the rundown of everything that had happened with Ribbit and Glenn. Then she'd spent another hour telling me everything that had happened with Julia and Markus. By the time that part of the conversation was over, I think I was even more red in the face than the time I'd gotten sunburned on the French Mediterranean.
According to Ingrid, it was perfectly obvious that Julia was now in love with Markus. My Markus! Hadn't I told her not to speak to him? How had she translated that into, "Take my boyfriend out of the embassy on a secret rendezvous and fall in love with him"?
Okay, I know that when I talked to Julia, I told her that
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I didn't want Markus. But after everything that had happened in L.A., I'd started realizing exactly what I'd be giving up if I turned Markus down. He was handsome, and chivalrous, and smart, and athletic, and kind, and attentive. And apparently it wasn't that common to find all those qualities in one guy! Who knew?
Markus had been in love with me since we were toddlers and there was no way I was giving him up to Julia, no matter how good a friend she'd turned out to be. (After all, I don't think I would have gotten on a plane to a foreign country just to save her butt, or anyone else's for that matter.) Still, all was fair in love and war, right?
B.B. stopped the car in front of the palace and I didn't even wait for him to open the door for me. I ignored his expression of surprise and ran by him into the house. Markus was waiting for me in the south parlor. He stood up the moment I walked in.