Undercover Princess by Connie Glynn Read Online (FREE)
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WELCOME TO ROSEWOOD HALL
There are places in our world in which wondrous and whimsical things seem more capable of happening than anywhere else. You can recognize them because they are thick with an atmosphere that seems out of time and place with the rest of reality. Sometimes they exist naturally, such as hidden waterfalls or secret meadows filled with flourishing wild flowers. Sometimes they are man-made, like empty playgrounds at twilight or dusty antique shops rich with history. But occasionally, although it is rare, these spaces exist in a certain type of person. You may have met such a person yourself. They may not at first glance seem particularly charismatic or especially intellectual, but, as you spend more time with them, it seems they possess the power to change and achieve anything …
Princess Eleanor Prudence Wolfson, sole heir of King Alexander Wolfson and next in line for the throne of Maradova, did not live in one of these spaces, nor was she one of these people, but she was in desperate need of both.
‘I am going to this school!’ Eleanor slammed the brochure on the table with a loud thwack, causing the cups of breakfast tea to wobble on top of their saucers.
Alexander Wolfson didn’t even look up from his newspaper to reply.
‘No,’ he said blankly.
‘I am next in line for the Maravish throne. I think the teeny-tiny decision of which school I attend is something I am capable of managing myself.’
Alexander looked up at his wife, Queen Matilde, who was sitting across the table from him.
She shrugged. ‘She does have a point, Alex,’ she said amiably, delicately dropping a lump of sugar into her teacup and stirring it slowly while stifling a smile.
This was not the parental solidarity King Alexander had been hoping for.
‘See?’ said Eleanor. ‘Even Mum agrees with me.’
Alexander remained firmly fixated on his newspaper, feigning an image of complete composure. He took a sip of tea.
‘Edwina –’ he gestured to their maid – ‘would you kindly take the empty plates to the kitchen, please?’
‘Of course, Your Majesty.’ Edwina expertly stacked the crumb-covered trays and exited the dining hall with a skilled smoothness, her feet barely making a sound on the oak flooring. The large double doors closed behind her, creaking softly as she eased them shut.
Once Alexander was sure she was a reasonable distance down the hall, and safely away from any domestic outbursts, he looked back down at his newspaper and said, ‘My answer is no.’
Eleanor let out an exasperated screech and stamped her foot. ‘You could at least look at the brochure!’ she snapped, snatching the newspaper from her father’s fingertips.
Alexander was forced to look up at his daughter.
Eleanor had always been a challenging child. She was anything but a typical princess; she would take fiery political arguments and sneaking out to loud, rowdy concerts over mild polite conversation any day, and more than anything she despised elaborate formal functions – or at least she assumed she did, having refused to ever attend one. But she was smart, she was confident and she was passionate – and for Alexander that was all far more important than any of the traditional values expected of her. Although occasionally he did wish she’d watch her language around her grandparents.