Read Princess for Hire Online

Authors: Lindsey Leavitt

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Girls & Women, #Fantasy & Magic, #Social Themes, #New Experience, #Social Issues

Princess for Hire (8 page)

BOOK: Princess for Hire
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I followed Lilith into the hallway, feeling like my feet weren’t quite touching the floor. That vaporiness I often felt at home was evaporating fast, almost to the point of a massive happy explosion.

“Now, Central Command, or CC, is where the tech people work,” Lilith told me. “You know, monitoring bubble flight paths, rouge algorithms, Princess Progress Reports, things like that. Ooh, and you still need to get your manual!”

Before I could ask what these things were, we came to the wall of portraits. “That’s the CEO or something, right? What’s her name again?” I pointed at Rainbow Hair.

“Genevieve? Oh, I could write a whole book about Genevieve’s brilliance. She’s the head of the Façade council, and I feel like she’s my personal mentor. When the PPRs are uploaded to our network by the princesses, Genevieve is the one who reviews them for the Court of Appeals. She also monitors all the agents and decides which princesses qualify for our services. She knows everyone who’s anyone and knows all their business. Their private business. If you look at it a certain way, you could say she’s the most powerful woman in the world.”

What I saw next seemed to confirm Genevieve’s power. In three steps we went from Camelot to Façade’s version of Mission Control. Ten casually dressed, surprisingly young employees, each sitting at a large round table, wheeled their chairs from one computer to another, frantically typing and checking the large screen in the front of the room. Graphs and diagrams and numbers flashed on the screen above a large world map with unlit red lights sprinkled across it.

“Who are these guys?” I asked.

“These are people with MP whose special talents are more…technological. I have no idea how we recruit them; they aren’t terribly exceptional. Not like surrogates or agents.”

On the world map, a light in eastern China blinked for a second, and everyone stopped what they were doing to stare. They let out a sigh when it didn’t stay lit.

“MP meter,” Lilith whispered. “You should have seen Meredith’s face when they picked up on your signal.

The strongest one we’d had in a year.”

“Really?”

“Indeed. Now, let’s get you your new toy!”

Lilith led me to an adjacent room, where a cute high school–age guy in a rocker T-shirt and worn Converse was sitting at a desk covered with laptops and crusty coffee mugs. Lilith coughed, and the boy looked up.

“What can I do for you, Lilith?” he said. “And who’s your friend?” He smiled at me, and I felt my face flush.

“Hank, meet Desi Bascomb, our newest surrogate. We came to pick up Desi’s manual.”

“Oh, right.” He ran over to another desk and rummaged through a tower of tangled cords and spare parts. “Sorry for the mess. Things have been pretty hectic. We finished installing that new PPR interface and found out some of the multimedia components aren’t compatible with the Princessnet security shield.”

Lilith raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean in English?”

“Ah well, there’s a programming glitch. When the PPRs come in, the network computers go haywire and start levitating.” Hank smiled when my eyes widened. “Magic and technology follow different rules, so they’re bound to butt heads sometimes. Right now the levitation is totally getting in the way of our monitoring system.”

“So no Princess Progress Reports are coming through?” Lilith asked, alarmed.

“Just for a bit! No worries. Ah, here we go.” He held up a silver touch-screen computer/phone that he carefully placed into my hands.

“Seriously, don’t drop, shake, break, or lose this. This is an exquisite piece of technomagical machinery, and it’s worth some serious dough.” He scratched his chin. “Well, I’ve got to figure this PPR thing out before the Lady Carol wedding, so uh…glad to have you on board, Desi. Peace out.”

We returned to the loud chaos of CC. Meredith was standing in the doorway, her eyes scanning the room.

Lilith enveloped me into a hug and whispered, “Last thing. Meredith may seem hard on the outside, but she’s actually rather soft. Well, her ideas are soft. Limiting. Too…
of the people
for my tastes. So don’t listen to her. Use your training. If you can make it through her boring gigs, we’ll make sure Level Two is completely A-list, all right?”

I pulled away. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Meredith marched over. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere.”

Lilith gave me a tiny wink. “Just showing Desi around. She’s such a quick study, we had some extra time.”

Meredith looked skeptical. “Well, that’s good news, because Desi’s got an important assignment we need to get to. Let’s go.” She motioned for me to follow, and huffed away.

“Remember everything I taught you, Desi dear,” Lilith said. Then she lowered her voice. “It might be the only help you get.”

Chapter
9

M
eredith waited for me in the hallway. “Training.

Good?”

“Great! Lilith is—”

“Awful. I know. Sorry you had to deal with her.”

“No, I think she’s amazing. Really helped me out. Totally warm and—”

“Condescending?”

“Informative, actually,” I said.

Meredith raised her chin. “Right. Opinions on that matter vary greatly, but some of us aren’t as good at reading people as others.”

I shrugged. As far as I was concerned, Lilith was easier to read than Gracie’s flash cards, and so…
not
Meredith.

“Did you find your missing sub?” I asked.

“Yes, thank you, and I don’t need your cheek,” Meredith snapped. “Only a mild case of hypothermia. And thanks to her, you have a gig that’s probably above your level.” Meredith surveyed the empty hallway and opened the door next to Central Command. A broom closet. “Get in.”

I followed her, wondering what level of crazy she had finally reached.

“Princess Simahya is Level One, but that’s only because she’s the youngest sibling and slightly…odd.”

“Odd?”

She huffed. “Contrary to what Lilith may have taught you, odd royals are royals too.”

“Meredith, I never said—”

“Now”—she cut me off—“since we’re running late, I’m going to have to break protocol and launch from here. Don’t tell. Just another outdated rule.” Meredith pointed her phone into the darkest corner and leaked the bubble out. “Come on. You need to rouge up soon. And you can read about your first job while we fly.”

Once we were safely in the air, Meredith gave me a quick tutorial on my manual and made me promise to guard it with my life and only read it in a safe, private place. The constant possibility of a Sub Spotting might have scared me if I hadn’t been so pumped about the device itself. I had to get one of these for school!

The home screen was divided into sections that each had a cute icon. A sun for the weather, a compass for the GPS system, a tiara for princess mail (with a message already there!). Some even had little captions underneath, like the lipstick for beauty and health tips (top energy bars for the sub on the go); a high heel for royal fashion (a crash course on the four C’s of diamonds); a horse for royal skills (how to shoot an arrow without killing your princess); and best of all, a winking eye for gossip (scandals of Lady Jana: the lady-in-waiting who just can’t wait).

I couldn’t resist clicking on the winking eye first. Shots of various princesses splattered the page, organized by region. For each princess there was a message board where subs could anonymously post helpful nuggets. I read through a few:

Fturagent3: Princess Jamelia says she’s a vegetarian, but then what’s with the McDonald’s wrappers under her bed?
OrngNewPink: Duchess Olivia is totally anal about her tan lines. Follow her tanning schedule exactly. Don’t do what I did and try to cheat with self-tanner. Worst PPR ever.
SportySub: Baroness Anne and the Duchess of Watershire are STILL not talking after the Poodle Incident. In fact, steer clear of all pooches. Things could get catty.

I did a search on Princess Simahya and came up with one comment:

AfricanPrincess: She’s really quiet and likes to eat. A LOT. If you shut your mouth except when you’re shoving food into it, you’ll do fine.

What a mean thing to say! I considered posting this, but was too excited to read the message waiting in my inbox. I clicked on the e-mail and instantly the full details of my very first royal adventure filled the screen.

At the top was a photograph of the palace (yeah, PALACE), and I kid you not, half of Sproutville could have fit inside. Flamboyant gardens surrounded the compound, and loads of expensive cars lined the driveway.

In her profile picture, the princess was looking down, like she was scared of cameras. And if it hadn’t been for the title above her name, you’d have thought she was just a regular, kind of pudgy teenager.

Next, she’d posted a family picture with all her siblings’ names and ages captioned below. It was a beautiful picture of everyone but Simahya, who had her eyes closed and wasn’t smiling. Even her father, middle-aged with a round stomach and bulbous nose, looked handsome in it. And too bad for Simahya, she looked nothing like her beautiful mother—but her older sister, Nabila, did.

Even her personal information read like she was trying to rush through it so she could go back to being unnoticeable.

Princess Simahya bint Zafir bin Sultan al-Dhayrif (Everyone just calls me Simmy)
Age: 13
Hometown: Al Hayrah
Favorite Color: Orangish Reddish Yellow. Ish.
Favorite Book: The Trumpet of the Swan by E. B. White. Or any romance. Especially ones with strong women and shirtless men.
Favorite Food: (with pictures of three different dishes below it). Sweets. Also chicken with nuts in spicy marinade. And fresh-baked rosemary bread. Wait, do I have to pick one?
Family Background: My father is Sheikh Zafir. As sovereign prime minister, he oversees oil distribution for the entire western coast, so he’s never around. My mother is also gone a lot—she’s flying in from Europe just in time for the charity event. Queen Raelena is visiting! Plus, all of our aunts and uncles and cousins from both sides of the family are staying with us this week. Fifteen women and only twelve bathrooms. Yikes! I’m SO glad you’re coming.
I have two brothers and a sister, Nabila, who thinks she’s in charge of everything. Seriously, don’t sneeze unless you have her permission. Actually, just avoid her if you can. Also avoid Mrs. Farahani, our family PR coordinator. She and Nabila are always telling me what to do. Wish I could tell them a thing or…Never mind. Follow their lead. Or not. Whatever.
Cultural Traditions: We’re Muslim, so don’t dress, um…provocative. Not that I could look provocative. And since I’m the youngest girl in the whole family, I have to show extra respect to everyone. (You’ll see why I don’t talk all that much.)
Anything Else We Should Know: What, like interests? I’ve played the French horn since I was little, but only in the privacy of my room. I’m maybe, well probably, well definitely good enough to play for others, but no one around here would want to hear it. And I love American soap operas. Oh, and ducks. I’m a big fan of ducks. Just check out my room.

The bubble bounced once or twice before skidding to a stop. I realized the jewel on my rouge compact had already turned green. My hands shook as I brushed on the powder.

“We’re here?” I held up my manual. “This is all the info I get?” Meredith looked up from her laptop. “What do you mean?”

“If I’m going to inhabit Simmy’s character, I need more important info than horns and ducks. What about religious customs? And memories and inside jokes and all of that?”

“I’m so tired of that Method nonsense. Look.”

Meredith lowered her voice. “This wouldn’t have been something that Lilith would mention, but you can also use your MP as a kind of…compass. It takes some finessing, of course. I’ve found my MP to have its own frequency. When my mind is wan-dering, I can’t tune in. But when I focus on the princess’s needs, I mean really focus, everything else shifts away and I can sense what the princess would feel. It’s a very Zen experience. You just have to be careful to channel, not meddle. Besides”—she pointed at me with a green pen—“if Simmy thought you needed to know her entire history, she would have put it in there. Do you follow?”

“I guess so. But what if she was in a hurry?”

“You’re going to be okay as long as you pay attention. You learn the most by listening and reading between the lines. And lucky for you, Simmy is quiet and awkward. Easy.”

“Oh, er…thanks for the tips.”

“All right. Well, off with you,” Meredith said. “See you in a few days.”

Days?
Feeling light-headed, I slid out of the bubble and into a grand, mirrored hallway. The color scheme was totally King Midas—gold on gold on gold. On gold. The fragrance of exotic flowers overpowered me.

I hid in a shadowy alcove while the Royal Rouge took over. The strangest part was how
surface
the transformation felt. In addition to the itchiness, I felt an occasional tug or pull. For some reason my elbows itched the most.

And I swore I heard the faintest buzzing as it happened, like an electric razor was shaving all the Desiness away from me.

When the sensation stopped, I stole a peek into one of the nearby mirrors and almost jumped back from my reflection. I touched my/her/our hair. Darker, coarser, longer. My waistline and thighs were more potato than string bean. Orange fabric bunched together in what I could only guess was a dress. I smiled at her. She smiled back. Her mouth was wide and braces-free. I wondered if that meant I could eat caramel.…

BOOK: Princess for Hire
3.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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