The Harebrained Royal Heir

ANNOUNCER:  I present Her Royal Highness Princess Ivory Eugenia Barbie Margaret Dollie Alexandra of the House of Dummschaff, Crown Princess of the Kingdom of Allwettia

PRINCESS:  As you all know, I will soon be Queen, if everything goes right.  My poor father, King Rudolph, known to you commoners as Rudy the Wolf, is dying.  He has had one of these attacks at least once a year for the last 20 years, so there is always a chance that he’ll come through this one.  In that case, I shall remain Crown Princess, and my only duties will be to look good, get married, produce some royal kids, and show up at all the right ceremonies.

You wouldn’t want my life.  Believe me.

By the way, I love a joke as much as the next person.  But will whoever has been posting all those “I’ve had Ivory” notices all over the place, please stop it!  I have never had casual sex in my life.  Well, okay, I’ve had a few encounters with strangers just for the fun of it, but only a few.  And I have never had an illicit affair.  What?  Well, that one doesn’t count.  The Duke and I were only long-term friends with benefits.  We could only get together, anyway, when the Duchess wasn’t home.  Hmm?  No, that one doesn’t count, either. ... Neither does that one. ... Oh, just take those signs down!

You over there – what did you say?  Something about the apple not falling far from the tree?  Well, let me assure you that my father’s reputation is grossly exaggerated.  If he had bedded as many women as everyone says, he wouldn’t have had any time to do anything else.  And the first person who makes a wisecrack from THAT will have his taxes audited for the last 20 years!

It seems that everyone wants to know how much energy I will put into ruling the kingdom.  According to rumor, I have never shown any desire to do any work or anything requiring thinking.  Well, that’s why a Queen has advisors, secretaries, and servants.  After all, I can’t do everything myself, and I can’t think of everything.  It’s much more pleasant if I can trust everyone else to do things right so that all I have to do is sign things and show up at the right parties and balls and whatnot.

Yes, please?  Why, of course, I will be a real monarch!  I will not be a figurehead, even if other people are doing all the real work.  Anyone who has any ideas of taking over my job will be fired.  I plan to keep all the power, with as little trouble to myself as possible.

What will I do for poor people, you ask?  Well, poor people don’t dress well, and they live in such awful houses.  I’m sure they are chagrinned to appear in public.  I will have high walls built around all the poor districts of every city and divert all roads away from poor villages.  This way, the poor can hide from everyone with dignity, and we won’t have to know they are there.

Yes?  No, I will decidedly NOT be imprisoning the poor inside ghettos.  They simply won’t be able to go through the gates unless they are properly dressed.  I can’t help it if they don’t have the money to dress like billionaires.  They’ll have to share, or something.

I beg your pardon!  That remark was not necessary!

I think it’s time for me to flounce out now, so I can go to my room and sulk in peace, like the princess I am.  Good-bye, all.


Inspired by a writing prompt by Jenalyn Cloward Barton
Posted on Facebook’s Writing Prompts Group on May 14. 2018,

“You may be the rightful heir to the throne, but you’re definitely not the right one for the job.”


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