Now Presenting (I'm No Princess Book 1) Read online

  I’m No Princess: Part One

  Now Presenting

  ALSO BY ELIZABETH STEVENS

  unvamped

  Netherfield Prep

  the Trouble with Hate is…

  Accidentally Perfect

  Keeping Up Appearances

  Love, Lust & Friendship

  No More Maybes Books

  No More Maybes

  Gray’s Blade

  I’m No Princess: Part One

  Now Presenting

  Elizabeth Stevens

  Sleeping Dragon Books

  Now Presenting

  by Elizabeth Stevens

  Digital ISBN: 978-0648438106

  Cover art by: Izzie Duffield

  Copyright 2018 Elizabeth Stevens

  Worldwide Electronic & Digital Rights

  Worldwide English Language Print Rights

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  to stress,

  you, sir, can suck it.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter One

  I shoved my headphones into my bag, my hands shaking along with the vibration of the butterflies in my chest. One last look around my almost bare room told me I had everything I needed either packed or winging its way ahead of me, even if it didn’t feel like it. Besides, it wasn’t like Dad wasn’t going to be able to get me whatever I’d forgotten. We were going to civilisation after all.

  “Anya, come on! You’re going to be late!” Mum called from downstairs.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m… OW!” I winced as I stubbed my toe on the foot of my bed.

  “You right?” Dad yelled.

  “Yep. May have lost a toe in the line of battle, but I’m good!” I hollered back as I shoved my feet in my Converse and picked up my backpack.

  My fingers on the door handle, I said one more silent goodbye to that chapter of my life, took a deep breath to try to steady my nerves, and closed my bedroom door for the last time in I didn’t know how long.

  Taking another breath, I headed downstairs. I was suddenly not so sure about my decision, but I knew I was being ridiculous.

  Because a promise was a promise, and I’d promised my dad that I’d live with him after I finished school and go to university in his home country. And I missed him dearly, even with Skype and the many times he visited. So, part of me was excited about spending all that quality time in Gallyr. It was like half of my life was there and I’d never really experienced it. It had been doubly true since my older sister had decided to up and leave me to live with him four years ago. But she’d always been the elegant one.

  I heard Mum chuckling, “…of course, Max. And how does the evil stepmother search go?”

  Dad huffed. “Shut up, Annie. I’m far too old to be looking for a wife.”

  Mum laughed again. I was going to miss her laugh. “But who will try to steal the girls’ riches when you die?” She sobered. “Besides, I thought Rex was adamant?”

  I could just picture Dad’s shoulders twitching. “He is. But I’m avoiding the subject.”

  “Oh, Max. You’ll be right. You’ve always been more stubborn than him anyway.”

  Dad gave a reluctant chuckle.

  That was the thing about my parents. They weren’t together by any stretch of the imagination – hell, they weren’t even in the same country anymore – but they were good friends. When they had been together – the product of which was my sister and me – they’d known it wasn’t forever; Dad had his obligations and Mum hadn’t wanted any part of that, and they’d both accepted the other’s decision and lived for the moment. They’d still decided to have us and make it work as best as they could for as long as they could. And even if they couldn’t have forever, they still cared about each other and they cared about us.

  It was on the last step that my traitorous feet betrayed me yet again. One got caught behind the other and I tumbled towards the floor. Strong arms went around me protectively and I looked into Dad’s deep green eyes with a smile.

  “God, you’d trip on a flat surface,” Mum said, fondly exasperated as she pushed hair off my face.

  “Can and do,” I replied before looking back to Dad as he stood me up. “Thanks.”

  He smiled back at me. “No problem, kiddo. Now, come on. Even private planes won’t wait forever.”

  “Gasp! But what if Rex is running late?” I teased.

  Dad’s smile grew more rueful. “The king can order them about as much as he likes. The unknown daughter of a duke? Not so much.”

  “Even when that duke is the king’s best friend?” I countered.

  “Anya, stop dawdling and get going,” Mum said firmly, but she was smiling.

  “Jeez, the power of finally having the house to yourself has gone to your head,” I laughed, hugging her fiercely.

  She hugged me back with equal gusto. “You just be safe, be good and be smart. And try not to yell at your sister.”

  I rolled my eyes as we pulled away. “Yeah, yeah. Let her do her.”

  Mum kissed Dad’s cheek and started ushering us outside where my suitcase was already in the waiting car.

  “Tati…” Mum sighed exasperatedly, pulling out the old family nickname. “Where’s your dress?”

  I looked around and saw no one had it. Both my parents were looking at me in frustration. I gave them a sheepish grin.

  “Uh, upstairs?”

  “Way to sound so sure. Go and get it, and be careful with it. You need to look nice tonight… Tomorrow… Whenever it will be,” Mum said as I ran back inside.

  I grabbed the garment bag hanging on the back of my door and ran downstairs again, this time managing not to fall over my feet or injure myself further.

  Mum shook her head as she patted my shoulder and pushed me towards the car. I passed Dad my garment bag and got in beside him.

  “Go. Let me know when you get there and have a good time tomorrow tonight!”

  I glared at my mother, wondering if she’d momentarily forgotten which daughter she was looking at. “Really? You think I’ll have fun at a state dinner?”

  “It is your first, Tati. Try to have a good time and don’t punch anyone please. Preferably not your sister and especially not a prince…”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I’ll try.” And I closed the door.

  Mum waved enthusiastically as we pulled away from my childhood home. It wasn’t like I was never coming back or I wouldn’t see her again – she was coming to visit for Christmas which was only like a month away – but the butterflies were back and my heart raced.

  I’d spent a lot of my childhood sick, watching life from the sidelines, watching as Lia grew and played and laughed. She was the happy sister, the be
autiful sister. I mean we could have been identical twins. But Lia was still the beautiful one, the one who turned heads and made people smile. Me not so much. I was the unfortunate sister, the one with all the piercings and the sad eyes. I was the one who was going to dye her hair black and get another tattoo as soon as Mum had left after Christmas when she couldn’t moan about what I’d done to my beautiful hair or berate me for getting another meaningless tattoo – not that she could talk, she had a few. I think she just didn’t want to admit I was growing up.

  The car took us through the familiar Adelaide streets to the airport. We drove through town, past the Adelaide University campus that my best friend’s Jenn and Bea were going to go to, metres away from Rundle Mall where we’d spent at least every Friday afternoon since Year Eight meeting the boys at the Malls Balls, past the new hospital I’d thankfully never had to see the inside of, and out into the western suburbs.

  At the airport we didn’t have to go through the building or customs, the car drove right out onto the tarmac and parked near a smallish plane. It was white, blue and purple, the Gallyrian coat of arms plastered on the tail. Someone in an orange vest came and dealt with our bags while a steward dressed in the Gallyrian blue and purple came to take my garment bag and welcome us.

  “Your Grace, lovely to see you again. This must be Lady Tatiana?” he asked. His nametag read ‘Giles’.

  In Gallyr, the eldest child regardless of gender was allowed to use their parent’s ‘spare’ titles as a courtesy title, and any subsequent children were given the honorific. Hence Lia was the Countess of Malmont and I was Lady Tatiana.

  “Sorry we’re late. And yes, it is. Tatiana, say hello to Giles.”

  “Hi, Giles,” I said, holding my hand out automatically.

  He looked at me the way people do when they’re comparing me to Lia. But it seemed, for once, I wasn’t found wanting. Giles shook my hand.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Lady Tatia–”

  “Anya please,” I interrupted.

  Giles threw a look to Dad, who rolled his eyes. “Tati, we talked about this. And, you agreed.”

  I sighed. “Okay, okay. But how about not until we get there?”

  I could see Giles was hiding a smile and I gave him one with full-force while Dad deliberated. Mum always said that his years in Australia had mellowed him out, but there were times that the stuffier noble in him was obvious. I was just hoping that this wasn’t one of those times.

  Finally Dad sighed. “All right. Giles, meet Anya. Anya, Giles.”

  “Nice to meet you, Anya.” Giles bowed his head and he let that smile grow a little.

  I nodded mine in return. “Likewise, Giles.”

  Dad muttered to himself about the sense in me going to live in Gallyr as he headed for the plane. But he knew me and I knew he didn’t mean it.

  “You’re not your sister, are you Anya?” Giles asked, but there was none of the usual scorn or surprise. In fact, I liked to think there was respect instead.

  “No Giles, I’m not. Was it the jeans that gave it away? The fact I haven’t brushed my hair today? Or the many ear piercings?”

  Giles chuckled. “Well they factored in. But actually, it is your eyes and your smile.”

  And with that bombshell, he headed for the plane as well. I trailed after him, wondering what the hell that meant. It sounded like it was meant as a compliment, but no one had ever made a compliment out of my eyes or smile being different to Lia’s.

  I turned at the bottom of the steps and snapped a quick awkward selfie, making sure to get the tail of the plane with the coat of arms in the picture. As I walked onto the plane, I uploaded it to Instagram with the caption ‘so long, RAdelaide #privatelyf #diplomaticmission’. As I put my phone in my pocket and found a seat amid the surely unnecessary opulence, I thought about Giles’ parting words.

  Lia and I both had hazel eyes, although hers tended more towards this gorgeous emerald fleck and mine went a sort of muddy poo brown with poo green smudges that seemed to be trying to mirror Dad’s brilliant green and failing epically. Everyone said Lia’s eyes were beautiful, that they shone with mirth and a happiness that infected others. On the odd occasion someone mentioned mine, it sounded like the only thing I infected people with was discomfort and depression. My eyes had been described as leeched of happiness, a faded mimicry of my sister’s – that was dear old Great Gran, the old bat who never had a nice word to say about anyone except Lia, especially after Mum had refused to marry nobility.

  I fully expected that moving to Gallyr would be like living with Great Gran; everyone would be praising the ground Lia walked on and I’d just be the unfortunate extra with the shadow of Lia’s beauty. I loved my sister like crazy and we were incredibly close, but I would never pretend to anyone that I was totally fine with the way people instantly fell in love with her beauty and treated me like the Beast.

  Those pestering, nagging doubts started swirling again and I wondered if moving to Gallyr had really been the right choice. I looked forward to it – it was my first time overseas – but there was a gaping uncertainty that marred the excitement sometimes. I mean, I was going to be outed as a Lady, with a capital letter and everything. I was now officially Lady Tatiana Bethany Penrose, second daughter to the King’s right-hand man, His Grace Maximillian Arturos Penrose, seventh Duke of Genovich. The Gallyrian passport burning a hole in my bag even said so, only in slightly less words.

  “You okay, Tati?” Dad asked and I looked up to find him sitting down next to me.

  “Uh, yeah. Sure.” I nodded. But I wasn’t really feeling it.

  Dad took my hand, knowing me better than I even knew myself. “What can I do?”

  “Not be a duke?” I chuckled weakly and his thumb stroked mine.

  “I’m sorry, kiddo.”

  I shook my head and leant into him. “No. I wouldn’t change you for anything.”

  “I know it’s all going to be a big change. But I also know you’ll be wonderful. And you know how much it means that you’re doing it and I finally get to show you off to the court.” The pride in his voice wounded me more than comforted me. I didn’t want to let him down.

  “I’m not Lia, Dad. I’m not going to shine in glittering jewels and look fabulous. You’ll be lucky I don’t fall flat on my face or accidentally throw beer on the crown prince.”

  Dad laughed. “Kiddo, you’re my daughter, through and through. You’ll find a way to survive and you’ll flourish in ways your sister would never manage.”

  My heart warmed at his conviction even if I wasn’t quite sure what that meant.

  Dad and I had always been the closest and, despite him being a born and raised duke, I was far more like him and Lia far more like Mum. They were the graceful elegant girls to Dad’s no-nonsense down-to-earth-ness and my tomboyishness. It made our family balanced, made us work. Until that elegance and the princess fantasies took Lia to Gallyr four years earlier while I stayed home.

  “Yes. But not without maiming someone, I’m sure.”

  Dad snorted. “I concede I worry about people’s safety. But at least I know it will be an accident.”

  “I don’t know. Lia’s spent hours telling me all about Rex and Hilde’s kids… There may be some non-accidental maiming going on there…”

  I felt Dad shake his head. “I can’t really make any comment on that one. The girls are…lovely in their own way. Konstantin would need to get a virus in his software to annoy you to the point of violence. Dominic and Dmitri, though? Granted, they may or may not make you want to punch them occasionally. Actually, Dominic definitely. That boy’s been known to chat up a statue when drunk. But any annoyance on Dmitri’s part would require him to be…present…” Dad’s voice had gone sombre and petered off.

  I hugged his arm. “Is he still…?”

  Dad nodded. “Ja, he’s still…him…”

  I kissed his cheek, knowing how much he worried about all of Rex’s children like they were
my illegitimate siblings. “I’m sure he’ll be okay, Dad.” I had no idea if he would be. I’d never met Rex and Hilde’s kids in person and, despite heavy speculation, no one really knew what was up Dmitri’s butt.

  Dad nodded again. “Try to get some rest. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

  I loved how Dad felt the same as me about all of that royal-ness. That sentence exemplified how thrilled he felt about our upcoming obligation. But his sense of duty and his love for his friend and king outweighed any reluctance he might have allowed himself to feel otherwise.

  “Okay. Don’t worry so much, yeah?” I asked and he nodded resignedly.

  I put my headphones on and stared out the window. I knew he was gone for now, his thoughts heavily on his job and his best friend’s family.

  I knew a fair amount about the royal family of Gallyr. I could have picked them out of a line up in the dark from years of pictures and videos, and I knew all about their personalities. And let’s just say that, as perfect as they apparently all looked on the outside, each of the children was trouble in their own way and caused a certain amount of concern for Dad. The boys in particular.

  In a nutshell: at twenty-three, Crown Prince Dmitri was a born soldier who’d been forced out of active duty by his father and resented the world for it, which he’d mentally retreated from and did so physically as often as his title allowed; Dad often described twenty-one year old Konstantin as a robot, he was the epitome of the kind, elegant, regal prince but there seemed to be little past the shell; and twenty year old Dominic was basically every single rich, self-entitled, arrogant jerk at your local private boys’ school all combined into one sinfully delicious package.

  Unsurprisingly, Lia had entertained the idea of crushes on all of them – she was currently on her…third Dmitri obsession maybe (I tended to lose count) – during her time in Gallyr, so I’d heard far too much of the good and bad of each of them. And I’ll tell you now, neither version of any of them seemed terribly appealing to me.