My father, the Prince of
Genovia, and his mother, the Dowager Princess, have rented the Palm
Court for the evening in order to throw a Thanksgiving banquet for all
of their friends. Despite my strenuous objections, Dad and Grandmere
refuse to leave New York City until I have learned everything there is
to know about being a princess . . . or until my formal introduction to
the Genovian people the day before Christmas, whichever comes first. I
have assured them that it isn't as if I am going to show up at the
castle and start hurling olives at the ladies-in-waiting and scratching
myself under the arms. I mean, I am fourteen years old-I do have some
idea how to act, for crying out loud.
But Grandmere, at least, does
not seem to believe this and so she is still subjecting me to daily
princess lessons. Lilly recently contacted the United Nations to see
whether these lessons constitute a human rights violation. She believes
it is unlawful to force a minor to sit for hours practising tipping her
soup bowl away from her - 'Always, always, away from you, Amelia!' - in
order to scrape up a few drops of lobster bisque.
The UN has so far been
unsympathetic to my plight, but that, I believe, is only because they
have never actually met Grandmere. Were they to witness for themselves
the frightful visage ~ made all the scarier by the fact that years ago
Grandmere had her eyeliner permanently tattooed on to her lids, not to
mention the fact that she shaves off her eyebrows every day and then
draws on new ones in black pencil — hovering over me during these
torture sessions, they'd send over a hostage negotiator before you
could say Kofi Annan.
It was Grandmere's idea to
have what she calls an 'old-fashioned' Thanksgiving dinner featuring
mussels in a white wine sauce, squab stuffed withfoisgras, lobster
tails, and Iranian caviar, which you could never get before because of
the embargo. She has invited two hundred of her closest friends, plus
the Emperor of Japan and his wife, since they were in town anyway for a
world trade summit.
That's why I had to wear
ballet flats. Grandmere says it's rude to be taller than an emperor.
8:00 p.m. - 11:00 p.m.
