Princess Mia

This was totally the wrong thing to say, however. Grandmère was practically breathing fire when she replied in her princessiest tone, “For your information, Domina Rei is one of the most influential women’s societies in the world. How can you not be aware of this, Amelia? They are like the Opus Dei of women’s organizations. Only not religiously affiliated.”

I had to admit, this got me kind of interested, in spite of myself. “Really? That secret society in The Da Vinci Code? The one where the members whip themselves? Lana’s mom keeps a weird metal spike wrapped around her leg?”

“Of course not,” Grandmère said with a sniff. “I meant figuratively.”

This was disappointing to hear. I have never met Lana’s mom (and she clearly knows nothing about me, because in her letter, she mentioned how much Lana has appreciated my friendship over the years, and how regrettable it is that my busy royal agenda has kept me from attending more of the parties she knows Lana has invited me to at their place. Um. Yeah.), but the idea of any member of the Weinberger family with possible spikes digging into her fills me with great joy.

“And,” Grandmère went on, “I know I’ve told you about Domina Rei before, Amelia. The Contessa Trevanni is a member.”

“Bella’s grandmother?” Grandmère hasn’t mentioned her archenemy, the Contessa, much since the Contessa’s granddaughter, Bella, delighted the entire Trevanni family by running off last Christmas with my pseudo-cousin Prince René and getting, well, knocked up by him. (Grandmère says it’s more polite to say enceinte, which is the French term, but hey, he really did knock her up. I mean, hello, has no one in my family heard of condoms?)

After a stern talking-to by my dad (and, I suspect, an exchange of cash: René was just days from signing a television deal for a new reality show, Prince Charming, in which a number of young single girls were to compete for the chance to date a real-life prince…namely, René), René finally married Bella. Sadly for her grandmother, the wedding took place in a quiet private ceremony, since René took so long to finally pop the question that Bella was obviously showing, and they’re still sensitive about that kind of thing in Majesty Magazine.

Now Bella and René are living on the Upper East Side in a penthouse the Contessa bought them as a wedding present, attending Lamaze classes together, and looking as if neither of them could be happier.

Grandmère is so jealous that Bella got René instead of me—even though I’m still in high school, hello—she could plotz. Basically, we never speak of it.

“Audrey Hepburn was a Domina Rei, as well,” Grandmère went on. “As well as Princess Grace of Monaco. Hillary Rodham Clinton. Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor. Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis. Even Oprah Winfrey.”

A hush fell over our conversation then, as it always does in polite society whenever Ms. Winfrey’s name is mentioned.

Then I said, “Well, that’s all very nice, Grandmère. However, like I said, this really isn’t the best time for me. I—”

But Grandmère, as usual, wasn’t even listening.

“I, of course, was asked to join years ago. However, due to a complete misunderstanding involving a certain gentleman, who shall remain nameless, I was ruthlessly black-balled.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, that’s too bad. I—”

“Fine. If you must know, it was Prince Rainier of Monaco. But the rumors were completely false! I never even looked at him twice! Was it my fault he was so fascinated by me that he used to follow me around like a puppy? I can’t imagine how anyone could have thought it was anything other than what it was…a simple infatuation a much older man bore for a young woman who couldn’t help sparkling with wit and joie de vivre.”

It took me a minute to figure out who she was talking about. “You mean…you?”

“Of course me, Amelia! What is wrong with you? Why do you think he married Grace Kelly? Why do you think his family allowed him to marry a movie actress? Only because they were so relieved he agreed to marry anyone after the heartbreak he experienced when I rejected him….”

I gasped. “Grandmère! You turned him gay?”

“Of course not! Amelia, don’t be ridiculous. I—Oh, never mind. How did we even get on this topic? The fact is, the Contessa Trevanni will eat her own head if you give the keynote address at her women’s society’s charity gala. They’ve never asked her granddaughter to speak. Of course, why would they? She’s never accomplished anything, except to get pregnant, which any half-wit can do, and she’s such a namby-pamby, she’d probably freeze up at the sight of those two thousand impeccably groomed, successful businesswomen staring up at her—”

I gasped again…but this time for a different reason. “Wait…two thousand?”

“We’ll have to make an appointment at Chanel right away,” Grandmère blathered on. “Something subdued, I think, yet youthful. I do believe it’s time we fitted you with a suit. Dresses are fine, but you can never go wrong with a really good wool suit—”

“Impeccably groomed, successful businesswomen?” I echoed, feeling slightly faint. “I thought they were all like Lana’s mom…society wives with full-time nannies and cooks and maids—”

“Nancy Weinberger is one of the most sought-after interior decorators in Manhattan,” Grandmère interrupted coldly. “She completely furnished the apartment the Contessa bought for René and Bella. Let me see, now, the Domina Rei colors are blue and white…blue’s never been your best color, but we’ll have to make do….”