Maggie Malone Gets the Royal Treatment by Jenna McCarthy Page A

and on his arm is Her Royal Majesty Queen Millicent III. She’s, like, the mother of all royalty! My mom has a plate with her face on it and I’m right here in the same room with her. I swear, sometimes this whole MMB thing is hard even for me to believe.
    Once Her Royal Majesty is seated, it’s showtime. Prince Henry and I are second in line, just behind the flower girl and the ring bearer. Princess Penelope and Lord Harold are right behind us.
    The flower girl, Princess Sophie, is the cutest little thing I have ever seen. She’s got these rosy cheeks and this golden blond hair that she gets to wear down (lucky!). Of course she’s wearing the big fat baby dress too—but she looks like an angel in hers, especially with that pretty wreath of flowers on top of her head. It looks like a halo. Her brother, Prince Valdemar, has the same golden hair and a dusting of freckles across his little button of a nose.
    It’s hard to believe these two kids might be running a whole country someday. They’re just too cute for words.
    The organ strikes up a new song, and the lady in charge of the little kids gives them a gentle nudge. Prince Valdemar has his arm linked in Princess Sophie’s. They look like a miniature bride and groom. I just want to pinch their adorable little cheeks.
    â€œNo, Henrietta!” Princess Sophie says suddenly.
    â€œWhat do you mean no ?” Henrietta, Princess Sophie’s governess, asks.
    â€œI’m not going!” Princess Sophie says, even louder this time.
    â€œYou’re not going ?” Henrietta whispers back, confused.
    â€œI am not going down that aisle and you can’t make me,” Princess Sophie says. With her British accent, she sounds exactly like that bratty I-want-an-Oompa-Loompa- now girl from Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory .
    â€œOf course you are, dear,” says Henrietta, giving her another push.
    â€œAm not, am not, am not!” Princess Sophie screams. She’s waving her arms and jumping up and down, and people in the abbey begin to turn around. Poor Prince Valdemar is looking down at his shiny shoes and trying not to cry.
    â€œPrincess Sophie, I have had enough of this behavior ,” Henrietta whispers angrily, grabbing her tiny arm. “You are expected to act like a lady at all times, and you will obey my orders, do you hear me?”
    â€œI am not going and you cannot make me, Henrietta hog face!” Princess Sophie yells this last bit at full volume, and the entire abbey full of guests gasps at the same time. Now every head is twisted around to watch the show. Henrietta’s nose does turn up a bit at the end, but I think “hog face” is a little harsh.
    â€œPrincess Sophie,” I whisper, kneeling down. “What’s the matter? Are you nervous about going down the aisle?” She nods her head and a tear slips down her cheek.
    â€œI am too,” I tell her with a wink. She smiles a thin, close-lipped smile. “I’ll bet Princess Clementine is more nervous than both of us put together, don’t you think?”
    Princess Sophie nods her head and wipes the tear away with the back of her hand.
    â€œAnd what do you suppose would happen if she refused to go down the aisle?” I ask her.
    â€œThere wouldn’t be a royal wedding at all!” the little princess mumbles, looking down sadly.
    â€œWe wouldn’t want to give her any ideas then, would we?” I ask.
    â€œNo, I suppose not,” she agrees. “But I still can’t do it.”
    â€œOf course you can,” I tell her gently.
    â€œBut I haven’t any teef,” she says, looking up at me and opening her mouth widely. She’s got a huge hole where her two front teeth should be.
    â€œOh, sweetie, you lost your front teeth!” I say, all excitedly. “That’s fantastic! Congratulations! Have you shown Princess Clementine yet? That’s very good luck on a wedding day, you