The Christmas Princess (Princess Diaries Fanfic)

Chapter Eleven

Friday, December 27, later

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god.

Just breathe. BREATHE.

I CAN'T!

I mean, I can breathe but it is not HELPING!

I think something was wrong with the hair dye the hairdresser in France used. It must have some weird substances in. it is the only explanation. Because this ... is not happening. It cannot be happening. Stuff like this does not happen to me. EVER.

Oh my god, what if this is coma? This is coma, isn't it? That hair dye was poisonous! AND NOW PROBABLY EVEN MY ORGANS ARE TOO DAMAGED TO BE DONATED.

I know it is not because of that champagne I drank yesterday. I mean, yeah, I was drunk enough to dye my hair ORANGE but I didn't drink enough to BE THIS DELUSIONAL!

But this cannot be real. It cannot be. It would mean that ... they know.

And them knowing would cause a World War III.

Or at least a mass murder.

Oh my god, how did this happen? I can usually reconstruct my meltdowns but this one ... what did I do wrong? I just don't get it.

There must be some hidden motive behind this. It just must be. Because kindness of this scale does not exist.

Not in the Genovian Royal family. Because this is the blackmail material that will last forever. Now I am forever tied to this royal business. If I ever just think of skipping some royal duty, all Dad has to do is just say 'Hey, Mia, remember that Christmas ...'

This has to be some sort of human rights violation. I am totally calling Lilly, she knows everything about this stuff.

Or ... maybe I should not be making that call. I don't think she would be too happy if she knew ...

I walked down the hall to the dining room. I was so caught up in my orange hair and oversleeping breakfast that I totally forgot to change. So not only my hair was orange and I was late, I was wearing my pajamas.

Hmmm ... maybe this is hangover after all. No way would I forget to dress before walking around the palace if I was sober. I might suck at being a princess but I do know princesses do not attend breakfast in their pajamas.

At least Genovians ones don't. Though personally, I don't really see what's so wrong about that.

I was convinced Grandmere was off to another rendezvous with her desired paramour. What other reason could she possibly have for not barging into my room yet? No, I didn't forget the possibility that I was more screwed than I thought; I just suppressed it. She is totally capable of letting me sleep in before murdering me for dishonoring the family with my new hairstyle.

Anyway, I didn't expect to see her in the dining room. Honestly, I didn't expect anyone to still be there so I just entered the kitchen to ask Pierre for some food.

He was cutting the carrots.

"Hey, Pierre," I said and, oh my god, my voice was far from sounding even remotely sober.

"Princess! You finally got up!" he exclaimed happily (he loves me, for whatever reason), "go to the dining room, I will make you some..."

And then he turned around. His eyes went all big when he realized my hair was pretty much as orange as the carrots on the counter.

Seriously. What was I thinking yesterday? If our chef reacted this way, I am too afraid to even wonder how Grandmere will react. She will finally get a heart attack. Oh my god, I will kill my own grandmother.