Not Your Average Princesses Read online

  The floors were stark and cold, but there was a sofa and five pet beds clustered together in the center of the hangout area that helped make it look more homey. Without hesitation, each of the princesses’ pets raced forward and claimed a bed, then snuggled in for much-needed afternoon naps.

  “Look! All our pets are already becoming best friends!” Hera cried happily.

  “The bestest,” Rhea said in a sarcastic voice.

  After a quick glance at one another, the five girls all ran into the room and began fighting for turf. “I call this pod!” Luna screamed, shoving Hera aside to get to the pod on one end of the room before any of the other girls could claim it.

  Rhea hastily grabbed the pod at the other end of the room. Juno settled in beside her. Athena took the sleeping pod in the middle of them all, and Hera floated toward the only one that was left. She flopped down on her bed, bounced a few times, and announced, “This is going to be so fun! Like a giant sleepover! I’ve seen movies about sleepovers,” she said, frowning. “But I’ve never had one.”

  In fact, none of the girls had ever had a sleepover. None of them had shared a room or argued over a bed in their lives. They had never listened to the sounds of someone else snoring nearby, or made their own bed in the morning, or slept under a blanket that hadn’t been custom-made for a princess.

  “Where are all the closets?” Luna asked, stepping out of her pod and scanning the area. “Where is my closet?”

  “Does it matter?” Rhea snapped at her. “The only clothes you have are the ones you’re wearing and a few nasty dresses inside your hamper. Why would you need a closet?”

  Luna choked back a sob as the grim reality of their situation hit her. “And the servants?” she asked.

  Athena shook her head once.

  “The chefs?” Luna asked, gulping. “The gardener? My chambermaid?”

  “We’ve got Chamberlin,” Rhea pointed out helpfully.

  Hera reached toward Luna and rubbed her back. “It will all work out,” she promised. “We just need to keep a positive attitude.”

  “How about you feed your positive attitude to a space rat?” Juno said, her words coming out a little more harshly than she’d intended them to. “I, for one, have no interest in sitting here braiding each other’s hair and pretending that nothing is wrong.”

  No one said anything. For many long minutes, the room was silent. Suddenly, a tinny blast of music broke through the quiet. Four heads swiveled around to glare at Luna. She had her communicator out and was streaming a cheesy love ballad at full volume.

  Luna shrugged and said, “What? If we’re stuck on this horrible planet, we might as well have music.” She flopped back onto the couch and sang along.

  The other girls shared surprised looks—Luna could sing. And clearly, she knew it. She was singing loudly enough for half the planet to hear her. Even though the song sounded good, after a few verses, the silly lyrics began to grate on the other girls. “Can you turn it down?” Athena asked.

  “Nope,” Luna said with a shrug.

  “That wasn’t actually a question,” Athena said. “What I meant to say is, ‘turn it down!’”

  Luna acted like she hadn’t heard her.

  Before they could argue about it further, Chamberlin raced into the room. “What is that ruckus?” he shouted over the music.

  “‘Sprinkle of Roses,’” Luna said. “You are seriously out of touch, Chambermaid. It was number three on the Galaxy Top Twelve last week. And if Geela hadn’t taken over the radio stations, it would have climbed to number one this week.”

  Chamberlin massaged his temples. “But where is the sound coming from?”

  Luna wiggled her communicator in the air. “This adorable little box is called a communicator,” she said slowly as if speaking to a toddler, explaining the obvious. “The inhabitants of my planet use it for ordering takeout, listening to music, watching TV, booking their spa appointments, and sending messages.”

  Chamberlin groaned. “Give it to me.”

  “Excuse me?” Luna growled.

  “Geela could be using your communicator to track you,” Chamberlin explained. “How many of you have communication devices with you right now?”

  One by one, each of the girls raised their hands. “Obviously, that’s all of us,” Rhea said. “I don’t go anywhere without mine.”

  In a flash, Chamberlin reached into the nearest pod and grabbed the pillow off Juno’s bed. He shook the pillow out of its pillowcase and held the case out toward the girls. “Drop them in,” he ordered. “All devices in here, no exceptions. From now on, you are to have no communication with the outside world. No devices that might help Geela track you to Borana. No social media, no messaging, no interaction with anyone except your fellow princesses and me. Period. Got it?”

  The girls nodded solemnly.

  Although it hurt to have their contact with the outside world severed, the princesses all knew Chamberlin had a point. Their communicators were equipped with technology that could easily bring in unwanted attention. One wrong move and Geela would be after them again.

  With a minimal amount of whining, they each threw their devices into the pillowcase. Then they trailed along after him and watched—horrified—as Chamberlin threw their devices into the ship’s incinerator. The fire raged, shooting out blue and purple sparks as the girls’ devices—and the internal chips, trackers, and memories—were melted and destroyed.

  It was necessary, but that didn’t mean it was any less difficult to say goodbye. Without their communicators, the five girls now had no way of connecting with the outside world, no way of keeping up on fashion or gossip, and no way of ordering clothes or takeout.

  And to make matters worse, Juno no longer had a pillowcase. Life outside the Pentangle Galaxy was neither fun nor fair.

  CHAPTER 2

  Late that night, long after Chamberlin’s usual bedtime, all five girls, the assortment of pets, and their butler were all camped out on the couches in their space transport’s living room. Because there was nothing else to do—no communicators, no media players, no elegant dinners, no royal obligations—the six of them were lounging around watching the only holo-screen Chamberlin had installed on board. It wasn’t the way any of them would usually choose to spend their free time, but it was better than staring at a blank wall. Sort of.

  “This is all garbage,” Athena said, flicking her finger across the enormous 3D images to change from one show to another. Her finger paused and she jumped back from the hologram when she landed on the Geela Romance Network. She scowled at the figure in the center of the living room. For there, in the middle of them all, was a life-size hologram of Empress Geela wearing a long black shift dress, her cruel mouth set in an unconvincing smile. “The Empress?” Athena scoffed. “Is she serious?”

  “She’s trying to find love on a reality show,” Rhea explained. The girls all stared at the hologram, transfixed, as a good-looking alien wearing a tuxedo and metallic space helmet materialized beside Geela. The empress linked arms with him, then led her date toward a sleek transport, telling him that they would be having dinner on the planet Tik-Tik tonight.

  “Who would want to go on a date with her?” Luna wondered aloud. “She’s awful.”

  Juno, who had been doing crunches on the floor, kicked at the empress’s lifelike figure and said, “Isn’t a reality show the perfect place for an evil empress to find her soul mate? She controls the network, so I’m sure she can figure out some way to get at least one of these guys to fall in love with her.”

  Athena flicked her hand to change the channel again, landing next on an all-day marathon of Geela’s Rocky Remodel. Geela was in the process of remodeling her fortress, and the renovation show took viewers inside her massive home as construction crews demolished and redesigned the spaces to her very bizarre specifications.

  On PBC—the Pentangle Broadcast Corporation—a new episode of Dancing with the Empress was just wrapping up. Geela had earned perfect tens acros
s the board for her swing, space-crunk, and tango performances. The audience, which was made up of the empress’s paid employees, clapped wildly as she took a bow and collected her trophy. As soon as the credits rolled (Executive Producer: Geela, Director: Geela, Creative Director: Geela, Wardrobe Supervisor: Geela), an episode of Cooking with G! began. “Tonight,” the host announced, “Geela will be making meteor meat stew! Yum yum!”

  Athena angrily jabbed at a button on the bottom of the device, and the hologram of the empress melted away. “How did she manage to take over half the galaxy?” she griped. “All these shows are either about Geela’s life or house or hobbies, or they actually star her!”

  “Half?” Rhea said. “More like all. She controls all of the television stations and every single one of the production companies now. She also pays off the music networks to be sure they don’t say or sing anything bad about her. She’s taken over the entire galaxy’s media outlets. And now she’s taken over control of our people, too.”

  Hera sighed. “I miss my favorite show, Meditation with Tranla. It was such a relaxing way to end the day.”

  “Yeah, well,” Juno snapped. “Now you’ll get to meditate with Geela and her Android army. There’s no way the cold-hearted empress is going to let a fruity-tooty character like Tranla teach meditation on one of the networks she’s controlling.”

  “Tranla is not fruity-tooty!” Hera said. She pursed her lips into a scowl and folded her feet up under her body. “She’s inspiring! Just because you don’t take the time to reflect and turn off the noise, it doesn’t mean meditation is not a beautiful thing.” Suddenly, she brightened. “Hey, how about I lead all of you in a short guided relaxation session right now?”

  “Dream on, Hera,” Juno laughed. “I’m more of a pull-up and crunch kind of girl. Keeping physically strong is the only thing that’s really going to help when it’s time to fight back against Geela.”

  “Fight back against Geela?” Chamberlin blurted out, chuckling nervously. He shifted and took a sip of tea, but spit it back into the mug when he realized his drink had gone cold. He missed the stay-warm mugs he had had back at the palace. “Don’t be silly. We have no plans to fight. Our job is to wait in safety and then return when all of the danger has passed. Get comfy, young ladies. We could be here for a while.”

  “You want us to just sit here on Bore-ana and do nothing while our families and people are under attack from that evil empress?” Juno growled. “I think it’s you who’s being silly.”

  “Yeah,” Athena said. “Geela has taken over our planets, she’s controlling all the media in the entire galaxy, and she’s trying to brainwash the inhabitants of the Pentangle that she’s some kind of amazing leader, masterful dancer, and celebrity chef. But all she is … is a tyrant! It’s totally insane. She’s not a hero!”

  “Totally. We are the heroes. The people of our planets should be looking up to us, the royalty,” Luna said. “Dancing with Princesses would make a much better show. Obviously.”

  Rhea shook her head. “I don’t think that’s quite what Athena and Juno were trying to say, Luna. We want the people of our galaxy to be free to watch the shows they want to watch, and to listen to the music they love, and to live in freedom—not cower in fear under Geela’s controlling thumb. Anyway, how can we be considered heroes when we all ran away from our homes and our people at the first sign of danger?”

  “This discussion has gone far enough,” Chamberlin said, standing up. “As I’ve explained to each of you, the kings and queens of the Pentangle came up with their plan to evacuate the five of you before Geela took over your planets. They all agreed that it is paramount to keep you hidden. If Geela were to find you…” He trailed off. “Well, it would be a very bad thing indeed. Dangerous, dangerous.” He shook his head and scowled.

  “I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree, Chamberlin,” Juno said. “I’m going to fight, and there’s not much you can do about it.”

  “This is not a fight for five young girls,” he announced, stomping his foot. “You are princesses. Royalty. You are duty-bound to act in a way that is appropriate to your title.”

  “You did not just say that!” Juno snarled. Chamberlin cowered under her fierce gaze.

  Athena crossed her arms and scowled at her long-standing butler. “How can you tell us what kind of behavior is appropriate to our title when everything about our world has just changed?”

  “Are you saying that princesses are supposed to sit on a throne and look pretty?” Rhea scoffed. “Because that would be a seriously boring life.”

  “Is looking pretty really such a bad thing?” Luna asked under her breath.

  Hera broke in, “We need to be strong for our people. We need to protect them, and ensure that the world is safe and happy. If that means I need to fight back against Geela, that’s what I’ll do.” Then she looked at Chamberlin and added, “But I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.”

  Grumbling, Chamberlin turned and shuffled toward his bedroom. “This conversation is over,” he declared. It was becoming increasingly clear to the old butler that he was very much out of his league. Five teenage princesses—all of whom were used to getting their way—were obviously more than one old butler could handle. Ah well, he thought, slipping into bed. He was the only one who knew the code that would start the transport. Unless they tricked him somehow, no one was going anywhere or fighting anything.

  He slid his dark eye mask down over his face, trying to tune out the sound of the girls bickering in the bedroom next to his own. He could hear Luna ordering the other girls to fetch a glass of warm milk for her. Chamberlin chuckled. These young ladies would have to get used to a whole new way of life out here on Borana—and fast, or he would very likely fail his mission.

  But Chamberlin knew better than anyone that failure was not an option. He had promised the kings and queens of the Pentangle that he would watch over the princesses and protect them with his life. Months away from retirement, and he had been given the most difficult challenge of his career.

  Just as Luna’s angry footsteps stormed down the hall toward the kitchen, Chamberlin drifted off to sleep, hoping the morning would bring sunshine, a ship full of happy and easygoing girls, and some much-needed relaxation.

  CHAPTER 3

  “I’m next,” Luna announced, pushing past Chamberlin to step into the only bathroom on board the space transport. The bathroom door whooshed closed, leaving Chamberlin alone in the chilly hallway. The butler sighed and returned to his room, bath caddy hanging loosely by his side.

  Chamberlin had been waiting to get in the shower for several hours, and every time he thought it was finally his turn, one of the girls beat him to the bathroom door. The shower had been running for nearly four hours straight. He was beginning to suspect that when he finally got his chance to wash up, there would be no hot water left.

  As far as Chamberlin was concerned, the first morning on Borana had been nothing short of a disaster. Juno was the first girl awake, at the stroke of five-thirty. As was her morning custom, Juno turned on loud, angry music and launched into a workout. Of course, the music had woken up the other girls, who were less than pleased about the early wake-up call. There had been a lot of groaning and yelling—and several thrown shoes.

  Rhea and Luna both preferred to stay up late and sleep in, so five-thirty was an unacceptable hour in their minds. (And Luna, of course, was upset about not having her customary morning juice delivered for the second morning in a row.) Hera didn’t particularly mind waking up early, but Juno’s grunting and blood-pumping music had gotten in the way of her relaxing sun salutations and rosehip tea. Athena was indifferent about the time on the clock, but she hated not having her privacy first thing in the morning. She hated people seeing her in her vulnerable, just-awake condition.

  As soon as it was clear that no one would be getting back to sleep, the girls began fighting over the shower. Then there had been a slew of arguments about whose job it was to clean up afte
r breakfast. Every one of them left their dishes on the table when they had finished eating, obviously expecting that the mess would magically disappear and be dealt with. The girls’ room was already messy, and Hera had reluctantly informed the others that she didn’t know how to tie her own shoes (someone had always done it for her).

  The constant bickering had gotten louder and louder as the morning went on, and the smell in the kitchen began to seep out into the common rooms. Lunch was still hours away, and every single one of them was on their very last nerve. They hadn’t been together for twenty-four hours, and it already felt like an eternity.

  Early in the afternoon, as a treat and an attempt at distraction, Chamberlin had opened up the crates of supplies and disguises he had brought along for the girls. “These are just some things that will help get us through until you can all return home,” he explained. Inside the crates they found a random collection of clothing and fabric, kits of hair dye, crafting supplies, a dozen pairs of ratty shoes and boots, and several very out-of-date music players.

  The girls removed everything from the boxes and laid it out in the transport’s living room. “Ugly, uglier, and ugliest,” Luna said, surveying the selection of clothing with a scowl on her face. “Where and when did you get this stuff, Chamberlin? Were all of these things in some sort of Borana grade school lost-and-found bin back in 2016?”

  Chamberlin frowned at her. “I did the best that I could. You may choose outfits from this supply or wear the clothes that Athena brought for you. The only thing you need to know is, you will no longer be allowed to dress in your usual clothing.”

  “Some of these things are sort of pretty,” Hera said, pulling out a length of silver fabric. She rubbed the fabric against her face and said, “This feels like evening bramble rose petals!” With a sunny smile, she added, “And it will be nice to have some music to listen to.”

  Rhea dug around at the bottom of the box and extracted a sewing kit. She grinned, holding the kit up like a prize. “Anyone care if I tear this stuff up and make it look like it came from a store instead of the trash? I can make a few alterations to everything and it might be halfway decent. I could totally design a cute disguise for each of us.” She looked at each of the other princesses and added, “I think I can come up with something that will suit each of your styles, but that is just far enough from your regular clothes that we’ll all look really different. I learned to sew when I was nine. It was part of my formal princess training—but making all those silly quilts and skirts was immensely dull, so I convinced my tutors to let me study fashion design instead. I practiced my skills on the palace employees.”