This caused Lana, who was standing next to her mom, to snicker into her tulle stole.

But I realized there were no hard feelings when a second later Lana took me by the arm and said, “Check it out. They have a chocolate fountain over at the buffet. Only it’s low-cal, because it’s made with Splenda,” then added, when she’d dragged me out of earshot of her mom and Grandmère, “Also, they’ve got the hottest busboys you’ve ever seen.”

Anyway. I’m supposed to give my talk any minute now. Grandmère made me go over it with her in the limo. I kept telling her it’s way too boring to impress anyone, let alone inspire them. But she keeps insisting drainage is what the women of Domina Rei want to hear about.

Yeah. Because I’m so sure Beverly Bellerieve—of the prime-time news showTwentyFour/Seven —wants to hear all about Genovia’s sewage issues. I saw her out in the lobby just now, and she smiled at me all big and said, “Well, hello there! Don’t you look grown-up!” I guess remembering that time my freshman year we did that interview and—

Oh my God.

OH MY GOD.

No. That is NOT what he meant when he told me—in no way did he mean…

No. Just…

But wait a minute. Hesaid not to be like Pancho. Hesaid to do what Princess Amelie would do.

She meant for Genovia to be a democracy.

Only no one knew that.

But that’s not true. SOMEone does know.

Iknow.

And right now, at this very moment, I am in the unique position of being able to let a couple thousand businesswomen know as well.

Including Beverly Bellerieve, who has the biggest mouth in broadcast journalism.

No. Just no. That would be wrong. That would—that would—

My dad would KILL me.

But…that woulddefinitely not be like Pancho of me.

But how can I? How can I do that to my dad? To Grandmère?

Well, who cares about Grandmère? How can I do that to my dad?

Oh, no. I hear Grandmère—she’s coming to get me. It’s time—

No! I’m not ready! I don’t know what to do! Someone needs to tell me what to do!

Oh, God.

I think someone already did.

It’s just that it’s someone who’s been dead for four hundred years.

PRINCESS DROPS BOMB OF DIFFERENT KIND

For immediate release

Princess Mia of Genovia—most recently in the news after a brush with nitrostarch in her Albert Einstein High School chemistry lab sent her and two others (including the princess’s rumored royal-consort-of-the-moment, John Paul Reynolds-Abernathy IV) to the Lenox Hill Hospital emergency room with minor injuries—has dropped an explosive of her own: that a newly discovered four-hundred-year-old document reveals that the principality of Genovia is a constitutional, not absolute, monarchy.

The difference is a significant one. In an absolute monarchy, the viceroy—in Genovia’s case, Princess Mia’s father, Prince Artur Christoff Phillipe Gerard Grimaldi Renaldo—possesses the divine right to rule over his people and land. In a constitutional monarchy, the ceremonial role of a royal heir (such as the Queen of England) is acknowledged, but all actual governmental decisions are made by elected head of state, usually in conjunction with a parliamentary body.

Princess Mia made this startling revelation at a gala to benefit African orphans given by Domina Rei, the exclusive women’s organization known for its charitable good works and high-profile membership (including Oprah Winfrey and Hillary Rodham Clinton).

Princess Mia, in an address to the New York chapter, read a roughly translated selection from the diary of a princess of whom she is a royal descendant, describing the young woman’s battle with the plague and an autocratic uncle, and her drawing up and signing of a Bill of Rights guaranteeing the people of Genovia the freedom to elect their next leader.

Unfortunately the document was lost to the ages in the chaos following the Black Death’s deadly journey up and down the Mediterranean coast—lost until now, that is.

Princess Mia’s description of her delight in being able to bring democracy to the people of Genovia is said to have brought tears to the eyes of many members of the audience. And her reference to a famous quote by Eleanor Roosevelt—herself a member of Domina Rei—brought the princess’s audience to their feet in a standing ovation.

“Do one thing every day that frightens you,” Princess Mia advised her audience. “And never think that you can’t make a difference. Even if you’re only sixteen, and everyone is telling you that you’re just a silly teenage girl—don’t let them push you away. Remember one other thing Eleanor Roosevelt said: ‘No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.’ You are capable of great things—never let anyone try to tell you that just because you’ve only been a princess for twelve days, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“It was completely inspiring,” commented Beverly Bellerieve, star of the news journal television showTwentyFour/Seven , who has announced plans to devote an entire segment of her show to the small country’s transition from monarchy to democracy. “And the way the Dowager Princess Clarisse, Mia’s grandmother, reacted—with open, nearly hysterical weeping—left not a dry eye in the house. It was truly a night to remember…and definitely the best speech we’ve ever had at a gala that I can remember.”

Neither the dowager princess nor her granddaughter was available for comment, after being whisked away immediately following the event in a limo to destinations unknown.

Calls to the Genovian Palace press office and Prince Phillipe were still unanswered at press time.

Friday, September 24, 11 p.m., limo on the way home from The Waldorf-Astoria

You know what? I don’t care.

I really don’t. I did the right thing. I know I did.

And Dad can yell all he wants—and go on saying that I’ve ruined all of our lives.

And Grandmère can swoon on that couch and call for all the Sidecars she wants.

I don’t regret it.

And I never will.

You should have HEARD how quiet that audience got when I started telling them about Amelie Virginie! It was quieter in that banquet room than it was in the school cafeteria today, when Lilly ripped me a new one in front of everyone.

And there were about twelve hundred more people in the room tonight than there were this afternoon!

And every single one of them was gazing up at me, totally enraptured by the story of Princess Amelie. I think I saw TEARS in Rosie O’Donnell’s eyes—TEARS!—when I got to the part about Uncle Francesco burning the books in the palace library.

And when I got to the part about Amelie discovering her first pustule—I TOTALLY heard a sob from Nancy Pelosi’s direction.

But then when I was describing how it’s about time that the world recognize that sixteen-year-old girls are capable of so much more than wearing some navel-bearing outfit on the cover ofRolling Stone , or passing out from partying too much in front of some nightclub…that we should be recognized instead for taking a stand and coming to the aid of a people in need…

Well. That’s when I got the standing ovation.

I was basking in the glow of everyone’s congratulations—and Lana’s mother’s reiteration that I’m welcome to apply for membership in Domina Rei just as soon as I’ve turned eighteen—when Lars tugged on my sleeve (I guess Domina Rei does let men into their events if they’re bodyguards) and said my grandmother was already passed out in the limo.

And that my father wanted to see me at once.

But whatever. Grandmère was totally just overcome with the emotion of finally being asked to join a club that has been snubbing her for the past fifty years, or whatever. Because I totally saw Sophia Loren go up to her and issue an invitation to join. Grandmère practically fell over herself in her eagerness to say she’d think about it.

Which is princess for, “I’ll call you in the morning and say yes but I can’t say it now or I’ll look too eager.”

Dad yelled at me for likehalf an hour about how much I’ve let the family down and what a nightmare this is going to be with parliament because it looks like our family has been hiding it all along and how now he’s going to have to run for prime minister if he wants to continue any of the initiatives he’s had planned and who even knows if he’ll win if some of these other losers run and how the Genovian people are never going to be able to adjust to being a democracy and how now there’ll be voter fraud and how I’ll still have royal duties anyway only now I’ll probably have to get a job someday because my allowance will be cut in half and he hopes I’m happy knowing I’ve basically just single-handedly destroyed a dynasty and how am I aware that I’ll be going down in history as the disgrace of the Renaldo family, until finally I was just like, “Dad? You know what? You need to take it up with Dr. Knutz. And you will, as a matter of fact, next Friday, when you and Grandmère accompany me to my appointment.”

THAT brought him up short. He looked all scared—like that time that flight attendant was claiming she was pregnant with his baby, until he realized he’d never met her before.

“Me?” he cried. “Coming to one of your appointments? With my MOTHER?”

“Yes,” I said, not backing down. “Because I really want to talk about how on your mental health assessment you checked offA little of the time in answer to the statementI feel as if true romantic love has passed me by when just a couple of weeks ago you told me that you’ll always regret having let Mom slip away. You totally lied to Dr. Knutz, and you know if you lie in therapy—even to MY therapist—you’re only hurting yourself, because how can you hope to make any progress if you’re not honest with yourself first?”