The Queen of England

Chapter 2 Denmark

I nearly drop the phone. Laila can't be serious. She can't be.

But I know she is.

"They're....dead?" I echo.

"Yes, Brittany. I'm sorry to have to tell you." Laila says.

"What...what do we do?" I ask.

"We have to return to Denmark. No one is running the country right now, and we need to get back to decide what to do next." She says.

"When?" I demand.

"As soon as possible. I'll be getting on a plane tomorrow to Copenhagen. I'm assuming you'll be meeting me there soon." She says.

"Laila, we're engaged! How are we going to run Denmark when we're supposed to move to England and and France?" I demand.

"That can be decided once we arrive. I'll see you soon, Brittany." she says.

***

The plane lands in Copenhagen the next day and I step off. May is right behind me, her hand on my shoulder.

"Hello, princess Berit." The driver of the car waiting for us says.

"Hello." I reply as I get in the back seat.

The car arrives at the palace almost an hour later. The drive was quiet, the conversation consisting only of the driver asking May how our flight was.

I get out of the car and walk into the huge doors, flanked by two guards.

"Here you are, princess. Laila is in the sitting room when you're ready to see her." one says as they open the door to my temporary bedroom.

"Thanks." I say as I go in.

On the bed is a long black dress with white lace trimming on it. Proper princess material, Laila would say.

Groaning, I pull off my jeans and t shirt and slipped into the dress. I hate wearing dresses. But I need to get used to it. I'll be Queen one day. Either the queen of Denmark or the Queen of England.

Once the dress is on, I put on a pair of white slippers and pull my hair back into a bun. A knock comes back at the door and I tell the visitor to come in.

"Princess Brittany, I just wanted to bring you your crown." One of the maids says.

I groan again. This is the last thing I want to do. But I take the crown and place it on my head. Then I look into the mirror. I have only worn this crown once. When I came to Denmark when I was nine.

The maid tells me I look beautiful and leads me to the sitting room. "Thank you." I say. She bows her head and leaves the room.

I find Laila sitting in a chair in the center of the room, reading a book. She closes it as I approach her.

"Hello, Brittany." she says.

"Hi, Laila." I say as I sit across from her.

"Good to be home, isn't it?" she asks.

"This is hardly home. But sure, why not." I reply.

She frowns. "Brittany, I wanted to speak with you about our current dilemma." She says.

"Okay. Hit me." I say.

She glares at me. "Brittany, could you please try to sound a little less like an American?" she snaps.

I roll my eyes. "Please enlighten me, dearest sister." I say sarcastically. If Laila weren't such a bitch, she would roll her eyes at me.

"I have spoken with Father's advisors. They agree that Denmark will need a leader." she says instead.

"And?" I press.

"But as you said, we are engaged." She continues.

"Go on, Laila." I say.

"So I spoke to both the prince of England and the prince of France. I have good news and bad news." She says.

I stare at her, waiting for her to go on.

"The bad news is that the queen of England has fallen deathly ill, the prince doesn't believe she will live much longer." she says.

"And the good news?" I ask.

"The good news is you will still be able to marry into England, and I will run Denmark." She says.

Things brings me out of my chair.

"How is that good news?!" I demand furiously.

"You get to continue father's legacy! You're able to do what he always wanted the both of us to do!" she exclaims.

"You could marry France and let me run Denmark!" I yell.

"You cannot run Denmark and I cannot marry the French prince." She says calmly.

"And why not?!"

"Because I am the eldest and therefore in line for the throne of our country. And it is England who we must honor first, for they will need a queen before France does." She says.

"You're the oldest by like two minutes!" I cry. "And you could marry the English prince instead of me, I'm sure he'd rather have you anyway!"

"He's already spoken to me. He knows that I am not the one to marry him." She says.

"We're twins, Laila. And he's never met us. You could marry him." I say.

Honestly? I didn't want to be queen of anything. But I'd rather run Denmark on my own than marry a man I didn't know and run England.

"I will not lie to the future king of England." Laila says.

Snob.

"Laila you can't just make these decisions without consulting me!" I yell.

"I can and I did. That is enough, Brittany. The matter is settled." Laila says.

I know that I am a princess, and I'm supposed to be proper and well mannered, but let's face it. I was raised in New York City. And this is how we handled things.

I turn to Laila with as much fury as I can muster. "You bitch!" I hiss. Then I leave without another word.

Denmark sucked ass.