Playing Princess

Playing Princess 1.3

“You may as well board here at Greenwood, you know.”

Leonard lay splayed out across one of the small cushioned chairs in the corner of the library while I sat on the floor, surrounded by an array of books that may help me find more on the history of the Devereaux Royal Bloodline.

“I just need a bit more information, that’s all,” I said simply and thumbed through the pages quickly. “Why do you think I look like her?”

“You could lead a double life without knowing it,” he suggested lazily, sitting up straight when the library passed us by with a disapproving look. “This Devereaux girl could be your secret alter ego. Maybe you sleep-live.”

“Sleep-live?” I echoed disbelievingly and cocked an eyebrow at him. “There’s no such thing.”

“Think about it: you have no idea any of the Princess’s life happened because you think it was all a dream,” Leonard coaxed, giving me an eager grin.

“No.” I snapped the book shut and tossed it at him for him to put back. “You’re a lousy cousin, Leo.”

“At least I came along – Kyle didn’t even bother,” he grumbled and got up to put it back on the shelf.

“No, Kyle is at Chess Club,” I corrected. “You’re just being grumpy because I needed a ride and as usual, mum isn’t home.”

“You’d think with a successful mother like yours, you’d be living large like the Devereauxes.” He slumped down next to me and picked up the photo I had photocopied in colour at the library. “I’m sure this is you. I’d bet my life on it.”

“Well you’re about to lose it because I’m one hundred percent sure that that isn’t me,” I told him firmly and sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Kyle would be much more useful.”

“Hurtful,” he whinged quietly, earning yet another disapproving stare from the librarian. Seriously, this was her second time passing us in less than a minute: she must really hate me or Leonard. Probably the latter. “I’m not going to lose my life because I know this is you. You just don’t want to admit it.” He shook his head. “And I think we are very close cousins, Astrid. I would know if this was you or not.”

I smacked him upside the head with a hardcover book and glanced over my shoulder, relieved to find the cranky woman was looking away, talking with whom I recognised to be my Spanish teacher. “Seems like we’re not so close,” I mocked. “Otherwise you’d notice her eyes are brown and mine are blue.”

Leonard’s brow creased as he held the picture closer to his face, eyes widening just like Peyton’s did on Friday after winning her tennis match. “No way!”

Nodding, I picked up another book on the country of Aldern and flipped through to the politics and government section. “It’s all about monarchies and the name of the family who rules but nothing specific about them!” I growled in frustration and snapped it shut. “These are too old and historical. You found anything?”

“Apart from the fact that she had brown eyes like Peyton and you have blue? Nah, nothing at all.”

“The internet was down at the library yesterday but I think it should be fine today,” I said thoughtfully and slipped my phone in into my hand, turning on the Wi-Fi. “Do you think I should tell my mum about this?”

Leonard snorted. “What’s to tell? I mean I personally think it’s just a coincidence.”

“To be honest, nothing this uncanny of a resemblance can be ‘just a coincidence’,” I shot back and typed in the words Aldern Devereaux Royal Family into Google. “But I do not believe the sleep-living thing.”