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Duchess of Northumberland.” With more click-clacks, the Duchess was gone. The Princess stuck her tongue out at her retreating back.
    “Victoria!” the Baroness scolded. “What a rascal you are!”
    “I’m sorry.” The Princess glanced at Liza. “Tell me Lehzen, I study so many languages, why not German?”
    The Baroness shook her head. “The people do not want a German Queen; they want a British one.”
    “The Queen’s guests will speak the language she, I mean I, choose.”
    “All the more reason to be gracious. Queen Elizabeth spoke six languages.”
    “But who wants to be like Elizabeth? So mannish. And she had black teeth.” The Princess ran her tongue delicately over her small teeth. “No wonder she never married.”
    “They named an entire age after her,” said the Baroness with a sidelong smile. “You should be so fortunate!”
    “A Victorian age. It has distinction,” murmured the Princess. “It’s a good thing they didn’t change my name. Liza, did you know last year it was proposed in Parliament that my name be changed to Charlotte after my dead aunt. But it came to nothing.” Victoria giggled. “Imagine, a Charlottian age!”
    “Victorian is much better,” Liza agreed.
    Dabbing the corners of her mouth with a linen napkin, the Princess smiled.
    “Victoria,” the Baroness began. “Don’t—”
    “Be familiar. I know, Lehzen.”
    After breakfast Princess Victoria’s school day began. Geography with Reverend Davys came first. The reverend was a bald elderly man, with one tuft of soft white hair on his chin. At first Liza thought his face seemed stern, but then she noticed the laugh wrinkles at thecorners of his eyes. He was not smiling this morning, however; the Princess had not learned her capital cities.
    “Princess, what is the capital of Spain?” he asked.
    Madrid.
    “Lisbon!” the Princess said.
    “Princess, no, it’s Madrid,” the reverend said. “Of which country is Lisbon the capital?”
    The Princess put her hands on her hips. “Obviously, I thought it was Spain.”
    “Princess, lack of preparation is not an excuse for rudeness.”
    Liza was impressed; this reverend was not overawed by the Princess’s rank.
    “What does it matter?” the Princess asked, shrugging her shoulders. “Spain hasn’t been important in centuries.”
    “It may become so again. And in any case, Lisbon is not the capital of Spain.” The Reverend beckoned to Liza, “Maid, fetch an atlas so Her Highness can look it up herself.”
    Liza placed the atlas on the table. Princess Victoria was pouting and barely looked up.
    “Portugal,” Liza mouthed.
    “What did you say?”
    Liza widened her eyes, trying to warn the Princess.
    “Liza, speak up,” the Princess insisted.
    “Portugal,” Liza said in a low voice.
    Reverend Davys appeared behind Liza’s shoulder. “So, Princess, your maid’s grasp of European geography is better than your own?” he asked with a hint of humor in his voice.
    The Princess turned an annoyed look on Liza.
    “Your Highness, I was just trying to help,” Liza said.
    The reverend said, “Perhaps a little friendly rivalry is just the thing for you, Princess. I wonder I never thought of it before. Why don’t we play a game?”
    The Princess, her miff forgotten, clapped her hands. “I love games; I am very good at them.”
    With a slight smile, the reverend said, “I’ll call out the country, and you girls can compete to answer first. Egypt.”
    “Casablanca,” shouted the Princess.
    “Cairo,” Liza said.
    “One to the maid,” said the Reverend. “France.”
    “I know that one! Paris,” said the Princess.
    “The score is tied,” he said. “Russia.”
    “Moscow!” crowed Victoria.
    “St. Petersburg,” corrected Liza.
    “Two for the maid.”
    “Bother, Liza. How do you know all this?” the Princess asked. She stood up and stalked to the window, her arms clasped across her chest. Liza stared after her, dismayed her future Queen was acting like