Perfect Princess (3 page)

For nearly a century during the Tang Dynasty, though hardly anyone seems to know it, a woman was emperor of China. Her name was Wu Zetian, and she rose well above her birth rank, which was that of a lowly peasant, by becoming a princess upon marrying the emperor's son. After her husband, who soon inherited the throne, suffered a stroke, Princess Wu stepped in and assumed the administrative duties of governance, eventually being named empress.

By all reports Empress Wu was a benevolent and kind ruler, doing much to elevate the status of women in Chinese society— particularly women belonging to her own family. Empress Wu also siphoned money away from the military and spent it on education reform, and she lowered taxes, an act that rarely makes a regent unpopular with her people.

 

[In Genovia, there are no taxes. That's because the amount of money the tourists lose gambling in Genovian casinos every year exceeds the gross national debt by several hundred million. Gambling can be very addictive, you know, which is why, when I take over the throne, I intend to offer Gamblers Anonymous meetings right in the palace. Only don't tell Grandmère.]

Mia's Random Act of Princess:

Be like Wu: Join your student council. Vote for more spending on arts and sciences than on athletics, except for the girls' teams. When male student council members accuse you of being partisan, say, “What's your point?”

The youngest daughter of Czar Nicholas II, Anastasia was a lively and pretty girl, who lived happily with her parents and older sisters and younger brother… until tragedy struck, that is. Tragedy came to the Romanovs in the form of Rasputin, a so-called holy man who appeared to “cure” Anastasia's little brother of hemophilia, an incurable disorder. The Russian people were a little more skeptical of Rasputin's claims, and the royal family's faith in him shook the Russian people's faith in the Romanovs. Soon, revolution occurred, and the Romanovs were cruelly set upon and shot in cold blood—although it took longer to kill Anastasia and her sisters, because they had sewn the family jewels into their corsets, and the bullets kept bouncing off them.

Which should be a lesson to us all: Never listen to the advice of charlatans.

 

[Also, it is probably a bad idea to wear bras made out of diamonds.]

 

The bodies of Anastasia and her brother, incidentally, were never found, leading many to believe that the youngest Romanov daughter might still be alive today.

 

[If Anastasia is still alive, can I just say, RUN! Get out now while the going is good! Don't let them find you and force YOU to take princess lessons every day, like me! Save yourself!]

Mia's Random Act of Princess:

Be like Anastasia: Be kind to your younger siblings. Take them to the park or to a movie. You never know whether you might need to use one of them as a human shield in the event of an assassination attempt.

Amelia insists that I include a fictional princess or two in addition to the “real life” ones I've mentioned. While I find it quite ludicrous to suggest that there are important tips on asserting one's royalness to be learned from a fictional character, I will admit that, for every Sunday for almost as long as I can remember, I have been mildly impressed by the regal dignity with which the wife of Prince Valiant, the chivalrous gallant of the comics pages, comports herself.

And it certainly cannot have been easy, attempting to live like a noblewoman in an era during which there were no foundation garments or even mirrors. In addition to which, Aleta seems to have a marked preference for togas… very unflattering to all but the most statuesque of women.

However, it must be admitted that Valeta and Karen, Valiant and Aleta's twin daughters, have also proved courageous, if somewhat romantically challenged, princesses. Except for a few lapses during which one or the other of these girls has traipsed off after their father or brother, disguised as a boy with sword in hand, they have shown a good sense that many “real life” princesses today are markedly lacking. In all, I find that the Queen of the Misty Isles and her daughters make for fine, if fictional, examples of royal grace.

 

[The girl who played Aleta in the Prince Valiant movie was the same girl who played Isabel on Roswell. Also, Aleta and Valiant's son, Prince Arn, is married to a totally cool princess, Maeve, the daughter of King Arthur's creepy son, Prince Mordred. But Maeve can't help who her father is— and at least Mordred is better than Darth Vader. Anyway, Maeve is a dog whisperer, just like that guy Robert Redford played in that movie, only with dogs, not horses. Personally, I believe I am a cat whisperer, since Fat Louie will do almost anything I say. Except, you know, get me a soda from the kitchen when I'm busy at the computer. But that's just because he doesn't have opposable thumbs.]

Grandmère's Random Act of Princess:

Be like Aleta: Don't dismiss the awkward, “geeky” boys in your class. It's entirely possible that one of them might discover he is actually a long-lost prince whose parents were forced to give him up for his own protection… just like Valiant!

While many mock the story of the Princess and the Pea for portraying a heroine who is so absurdly sensitive that she can feel something as small as a pea through a twenty-foot pile of mattresses, I do feel it ought to be pointed out that by pea, the narrators of this tale are not referring to the soggy things you and I frequently find upon our plates in restaurants. Indeed not! Such a pea would of course be crushed beneath the weight of all those mattresses, and rendered undetectable to anyone, even a princess.

The narrators in this case mean an uncooked, dry pea. Of course only the most sensitive of us would be able to feel such a pea beneath so much padding. But feel it we would. Because princesses, besides being used to the finer things in life, are extremely sensitive creatures… incredibly giving and uncomplaining, but still very, very sensitive. You will note that the princess in the story of the princess and the pea was quite reluctant to share with the queen the truth about her restless night…. She did not want her hostessto feel badly, after having offered such kind hospitality.

This is as it should be, of course. A princess sensitive enough to feel a pea through a dozen or more pieces of bedding ought also to be sensitive enough not to insult those who've shown her kindness.

And that, if you ask me, is the REAL meaning behind the story “The Princess and the Pea.” Yes, we princesses are sensitive to the slightest discomfort… but also to the smallest slight, and we behave accordingly, in order to spare our subjects the pain we ourselves are feeling.

[Whatever. I keep my diary under my mattress at night, and I have never had an uncomfortable night's sleep because of it. And my diary is quite lumpy, considering all of the pictures of Michael I've glued into it.]

Grandmère's Random Act of Princess:

Be like the princess in “The Princess and the Pea”: Be sure to get eight hours of sleep every night, if not more. A princess must be well rested in order to properly govern her people. Late-night revelry, while all right for heiresses, pop stars, and supermodels, has no place in the life of those aspiring to one day rule the throne.

Princess Rosagunde is perhaps the most important woman in Genovian history, being, in fact, the country's founder. It was Rosagunde who fought against the Visigothic warlord Alboin. Alboin was a dreadful young man who took it upon himself to descend upon Italy in the year
A
.
D
. 568 and kill everyone who stood in his path to the throne. One of these unfortunates was poor Rosagunde's father, a general in the true king of Italy's army.

After dispatching the brave general, Alboin declared himself king, and when his gaze fell upon fair Rosagunde, he decided then and there to make her his queen.

Most young women, of course, would have been thrilled at the prospect of ruling a country the size of Italy, but Rosagunde was still understandably upset over the foul murder of her father. It didn't help matters that, on her wedding night to Alboin, he attempted to force her to drink wine from her father's skull in a sign of fealty to him, the new king.

Rosagunde had no choice but to do as he asked, but she got justice the old-fashioned way, by strangling Alboin in his sleep later that night with her long, flaxen braid.

The real king of Italy was of course so grateful to Rosagunde for ridding his country of Alboin's horrid presence that he made her princess of Genovia, a small strip of beautiful land along the Mediterranean coast, over which she went on to rule wisely and well for many, many years.

 

[I can only hope that in the face of such hardship I will show as much bravery as my ancestress Rosagunde. So far, considering the whole flunking Algebra thing, it's not looking too good. Were a foreign invader to kill my father and force me to drink wine from his skull, I would have a hard time strangling him with my hair, because it is still only chin-length. I'm really trying to grow it out, though, just in case.]

Grandmère's Random Act of Princess:

Be like Rosagunde: While it is often the best strategy to kill your enemies with kindness, there may come a time when your life—or maidenhood—is in actual peril. This is why a passing knowledge of Krav Maga or karate is highly suggested for today's modern young princesses.