Page 31 of The Prince's Green Card Scheme

When we finally emerge from his room, he calls one of his staff to take me to my own room. He actually calls them servants, and I chalk it up to being a translation error. There’s no way a modern royal family actually have servants in the way I would imagine. Surely, in the modern world, servitude is an outdated concept.

The longer I’m here, the more I realize I don’t know the first thing about modern royalty. I don’t know what they do. I don’t know who they are. I don’t know whatI’msupposed to do. This is a whole world that’s always felt magical and alien to me. Like something out of a novel rather than real life.

Under any other circumstance, I might be almost excited that this was my real life now. For all intents and purposes, I’m a princess. Somehow, it’s nothing like the movies make it seem.

The woman who takes me to my room is called Maria. She’s a short woman on the older side, her hair graying, her smile kind. Her skin is olive, tanned and kissed by the sun, making her seem radiant and alive, and her eyes are a luscious dark brown. They’re the kind of eyes that make you trust them immediately.

She doesn’t say much as we head down the corridor. I try not to look around too much, not wanting to seem like I’m gawking. But in my head I am.

Everything here is so pristine. So polished. The wallpaper looks expensive. The carpets are thick and ornate. Every single one of the light fittings is the same, each bulb matched to a perfect luminosity, each screw the same perfect shade of bronze.

How much upkeep must go into a house like this? How many staff do they have?

“Here you go,” says Maria, unlocking and opening a door. “All of it is yours.” She gestures for me to step through and, taking small steps, I do.

I have to bite my lip to hold back from gasping when I see it.

It’s a huge room. The ceilings are high and slanted, the curtains a deep eggplant color. The bed is made more crisply than any hotel bed I’ve ever seen. There are trims of gold on the sheets, and the royal crest is embroidered on the pillows. All of the furniture looks like it has been custom-made to match, and the room is nearly as big as the apartment me and my mom share at home.

A sudden stab of guilt hits me right through the heart. I hope Mom’s okay. I haven’t spoken to her in a few hours, not since I landed and texted her to tell her I’m okay. How am I going to explain any of this to her when I get home? Knowing her she’ll probably just laugh.

She’s mother-in-law to royalty now.

“Please, make yourself at home,” says Maria, spreading her arms out wide to emphasize her point. “There is a bathroom and a fridge in here too. If you need anything at all, just call me or one of the other staff members. We’ll bring whatever you need. If you’re hungry, we can find you something in the kitchen. If you’re bored, I’m sure we can find something to entertain you.”

I have no words, so I force out a, “Thank you,” and keep staring.

All of this is way too much for my brain to comprehend.

“It is my pleasure,” she says with a wide grin. “Please let me know if you have any questions or need anything.”

“Honestly, I just don’t want anyone to take any special time out of their day for me,” I say. “This is all… well, it’s great, obviously, I’m grateful for it. It’s just… a little overwhelming.”

“I understand,” says Maria, her grin twisting into a wry smile. “When I first began my work here, in my home there lived my parents, my husband’s parents, my husband, our children. Our home was comfortable, but it wasn’t big. But the royal family pay a very generous wage, and since then, we’ve been able to move our parents out and get the big space for our children that I wish I could have had growing up.

“I couldn’t have asked for more from them in all the time I have been here. But my first day of being here, I had that exact same expression that you have right now on your face. The open eyes and the open mouth. This surprise that anything can be so… so… oh, what’s the word?”

“Opulent?” I suggest. “Fancy? Way too extravagant?”

She chuckles. “All of those things, yes. You’ll forgive me that I haven’t spoken in English in a long while. I don’t get to practice very often.”

“It sounds perfect to me,” I say.

“I always wanted to learn better.”

“It’s way better than my Bellamari. I should have tried harder to learn, but I never found time. I only really know the basics.”

“That’s better than most foreigners,” Maria says warmly. “But trust me, ma’am, you’ll quickly get used to this feeling of being overwhelmed. And we are not going to treat you like you’re anything other than what you are. Some people might act a little more respectful than you want, but working here? All it does isshow us how normal the royal family are as people. if you ask anyone to just use your name, then they will. You will see it. It is not like all those American movies you have seen, I promise.”

I let out a laugh, relieved and embarrassed all at the same time. How did I get myself mixed up in this?

Suddenly, all the hours of sleep I’ve missed come crashing down onto me, and I stumble over the bed, slumping down on it with a sigh, throwing my backpack on the ground. “Believe me when I say this is beyond my wildest dreams. This isn’t something I ever imagined wanting at all.”

“That’s young Paolo for you,” Maria says. “That boy is always thinking of these big schemes. It is why he got kicked out in the first place.”

“Can I ask more about that? Or is it some sort of, like, state secret?”

Maria throws back her head and laughs heartily “Oh, no. if you go to ask any citizen of Bellamare about Paolo Gallinari, they would say the same thing. Exile was always coming to that boy.”

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