why I’m so lucky to be working with you now! You see, and this is just between us girls, I usually get the high-profile, elite jobs. Sometimes, if I see enough promise, I might take a Level Two. So keep that in mind after your Level One performance review. Surely you can do dressage, yes?”
Thanks for nothing, Cunningham Stables. “No.”
“Any instruments? Archery? French literature?”
“I like theater,” I said, feeling myself vaporize.
“Well, acting is the most important skill,” Lilith said kindly. “But don’t worry, we’ll catch you up. Girls with MP are naturally fast learners. And far more mature than other girls. Besides, Level One really is the ideal practice turf because no one pays attention to those far-flung new royals and ugly ducklings. Now, I’ll bring out the tea set. It’s time to get down to business.”
Back in Idaho I’d sat through ten months of Mom’s charm school wondering When am I ever going to use this? Well, question answered. With my mom it was all about local beauty pageants, and with Lilith it was about having tea with the Crown Princess of Japan. Lilith walked me through dinner and tea etiquette and the specific protocols that varied by culture and order of eminence—like, if you’re a princess at a state dinner, no one may eat before you’ve tasted the food. Dream come true, right?
“That was fun, wasn’t it? Let’s move on to impersonation. My favorite.” Lilith cleared away our delicious tea (I remembered not to slurp, but got a pinched look when I inhaled a pastry). She perched herself on the edge of my desk.
“Now, a good sub is like a Method actor. Here, let’s try one role. Now, pretend you’re Princess Desiree, a girl with a wild-child rep, and I am your haughty great-aunt Lady Lily. We’re at a…let’s say a new exhibit at the Louvre. Here we go.” Lilith blinked and smiled a cool, perfectly royal smile. How did she do that? I swear her features all but morphed into a nosy aunt’s. “So, Desiree, sweetheart! You look divine. How are things at school?”
“I…I, uh…Wait, I’m the princess right now, right?”
Lilith nodded demurely. “Do you need a moment to get into character?”
“Oh! Of course, sorry.” I bit my lip and thought hard about this imaginary Desiree. Would a bad girl give her aunt snark? No, this might be the aunt who gives her the good presents. Better to ease into it. “School is, well, busy,” I said, attempting a wild-child smile.
“Wonderful!” Lilith cooed. “Oh, Desiree, I worry about you so. How are your classes, dear?”
“They’re…challenging. I really love art history, especially the Impressionists—”
Lilith rapped a ruler on the desk. “Oh, Desi. No no no. I understand, of course, your motives, but hon. You have no idea if this girl knows a Picasso from a Pissarro.”
“But they are at an art museum. And her classes must be hard.”
“Hmm. You’re on the right track, but to be safe, you should never be so direct. What if I say, ‘Oh? What do you think of Clement Greenberg’s stance on modernism?’”
Clement who? “Uh…”
“See, you’re stuck. Now, when you get in a bind like that, strategies include: coughing until someone offers you a beverage, changing the subject, or my specialty, flashing a royal jewel that somebody is bound to compliment. Worst-case scenario: fake laryngitis. Now, let’s give this another try.” With one blink, she flashed back into character. “So tell me, dear, how are your classes?”
This was tough. What if I didn’t answer the question at all? “Well, you know how it is. Same old. I get so tired of learning sometimes.”
Lilith patted my hand as if to say good job, but stayed right in character. “What’s this I hear about Duke Wellingford’s daughter and the dog walker? Poor thing, she must have no self-esteem because of her looks. A dog walker! Can you believe it?” Lilith sniffed.
“Maybe she really loves him?” I said, uncomfortable
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