AN: I finally updated! Is anyone still reading this? Thank you so much if you are! I'm sorry
to say that I've been experiencing severe writer's block with this story, and I still am.
It's just that I've been busy with another of my stories, and as a result, this one's been
on the backburner. So, if you want to help me out, then please send me ideas on what you'd
like to see happening in this story! I'm not promising that I'll use them, but I might just
get inspired. You'll get full credit for the idea if I do use it though. Anyway, enough of
my rambling. On with the story!
Ash
********************************************************************************************
Surprisingly enough, they agreed with me. Mother nodded and motioned for me to
take a seat. "You are right," she said. "We need to tell you about her."
"Is she...unstable?" I asked delicately.
Mother nodded reluctantly. "As a child we thought that she was very emotional,
but at the onset of puberty led us to believe that there was something very
wrong with her," she said.
"The doctor diagnosed her with Bipolar Manic Depressive Disorder," Father
added. "It was necessary for her to be medicated regularly.
"Why am I just finding this out now?" I asked. "If she is so seriously ill,
why did you not find it necessary to tell me?"
"As long as Beryl takes her medication, she is, for the most part, fine,"
Mother said.
"What happens when she doesn't take it?" I asked.
"You are witnessing it," Father told me.
"Can you not force her to take it?" I inquired. "Give her an injection?"
Father burst out laughing. "Good God, Serena, sheis not a horse," he exclaimed.
"Legally, she is not a minor in this country, so it is her choice."
I smiled in spite of the serious nature of our conversation. Hearing my father
refer to Beryl as a horse, was very amusing. I nodded, urging him to continue.
"When we believed that she was the princess, she willingly took her medication,"
he went on. "But when she found out that she was not, she shut down, refusing
any food or drink."
I nodded in understanding. "And her medicine as well," I realized.
"Eventually, she had to be hospitalized, due to malnutrition, and she was put
back on medication," Father continued. "Ever since you arrived, she has had
counseling sessions to try and deal with her situation."
"But it is not working, is it?" I guessed. "She is not dealing very well."
"No, she is not," Mother confirmed.
"Can you not place her somewhere where she can have more help and supervision,"
I asked.
Father shook his head. "Think of the tabloids that would descend upon Beryl
like vultures," he replied. "Discretion is absolutely necessary."
I nodded, resigned to the fact that I would have to live with Beryl for the
time being. "I do not suppose you could lock her up in the dungeon?" I asked
hopefully.
Mother tried to give me a stern look. "Serena, there hasn't been a need to use
the palace dungeon since the 1800's," she informed me. Her lips twitched as she
tried not to smile. "Besides, the dungeon is a part of the palace tour."
I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face. It was comforting to know
that my parents had a sense of humor.
"We will talk to security," Father promised me. "We will have guards keeping
watch on your rooms."
Just then, Mlle Aino opened the door and walked in. She curtseyed to my parents
and then to me. "You have a telephone call, your Majesty," she told me.
"Thank you," I replied. I curtseyed to my parents and then headed to my room to
take the phone call. I picked up the receiver and pushed a button, transferring
the call to my room. "This is the Princess."
There was a long pause on the other end of the conversation. "Happy birthday,
Serena," my American father said quietly.
My eyes widened with surprise and I quickly switched from French to English.
"Father! I mean...Mr. Tsukino...I mean..." I trailed off, not really knowing
what I could call him.
"Sweetie, Ken is fine," he told me.
"Ken." The name seemed odd, coming out of my mouth. This was the man who I
thought was my father for almost sixteen years, and now I was speaking to him
like a barely knew him. "How are you? And Mo...Ilene? And Sam?"
"We're fine," he replied. "We all miss you very much."
My eyes started to water. "I miss you too," I said softly. "What have you been
up to lately?"
"Nothing too interesting," he replied. "We've been watching you on television.
You seem to be adjusting beautifully."
I laughed lightly. "Not as beautifully as you might think," I told him. "It has
been hard at times."
"We're very proud of you, Serena," he told me.
I felt a lump in my throat. "Thank you," I whispered.
"Would you like to speak with Ilene?" he asked.
"Yes please," I said quietly. I heard the phone being passed and then suddenly,
the voice of Ilene Tsukino came over the line.
"Serena?" she said.
"Hi," I replied.
"How are you, dear?" she asked.
"Fine, I suppose," I replied. "I miss you so much."
I heard her voice hitch slightly. "I miss you too, Serena," she told me. "I saw
your birthday party on the news today. You looked very beautiful."
"Thanks," I said. "And thank you for all of my lessons. They have been very
helpful."
"I'm glad to hear that, dear," she replied. "I told you they would be useful."
"But you probably never thought that they would be used for international
diplomacy," I remarked with a laugh.
She joined in my laughter. "No, I never expected that," she agreed. "How is
Prince Darien?"
I couldn't help smiling. "Darien is great," I replied. "He is...the man of my
dreams."
"I'm glad he makes you happy," she told me.
"There is something I want to tell you," I said. "About Darien and myself."
"What is it?" she asked, concerned.
"We are getting married," I replied quickly, as if saying it fast would keep
her from hearing it. "On my eighteenth birthday."
"Honey, that's wonderful!" she exclaimed. "I'm so happy for you!"
I almost started crying with relief. Her approval still meant the world to me.
"I want you all to come to the wedding," I told her.
"Of course we will," she promised. "I'd love to see you on your wedding day.
Would you like to speak to Sam?"
"Of course," I replied. I heard the phone being passed again.
"Serena?"
I smiled at the sound of Sam's voice. "Hey, Sam," I said.
"Do I have to call you 'Your Highness'?" he asked warily.
I laughed. "No, of course not," I told him. "At least, not unless we are in
public. And even then, I would not expect you to."
"Cool. So what's it like over there?" Sam inquired.
"It is the same as where you are," I replied. "The weather is pretty much the
same."
"What about the people?" Sam asked.
"They are really nice," I told him. "You would like it here."
Sam laughed. "Is that a royal invitation?" he asked.
"You bet," I replied with a laugh. "It would be an international insult if you
did not visit me."
"You sound different," Sam told me.
"Different? In what way?" I asked curiously.
"Your voice," Sam replied. "You've got an accent. And even though you're not
speaking the way I'd expect a princess raised at court to speak, there's
something more...dignified about your speech. I haven't heard you use a single
contraction."
"I am...I'm sorry, Sam," I said softly. "You wouldn't believe how much I've been
lectured about my speech and mannerisms. It's a pain in the rear."
"Now that's more like it!" Sam exclaimed with a laugh. "Now say 'Don't come
around here no more'!"
"I am not saying that!" I protested laughingly. "I've never spoken like that and
I have no intention of starting."
"I miss you," he said, suddenly serious.
"I miss you too," I replied softly. "There's no one here to get into mischief
with."
"Well now I'm definitely coming to visit you," Sam promised with a laugh.
Just then, there was a knock at my door. "Hang on, will you?" I said to Sam. I
raised my voice and switched to French. "Enter."
Lita opened the door and came in. "Pardon me, your Highness, but you have an
appointment in thirty minutes with Mlle Meiou," she informed me.
"Thank you, Lita," I replied. She curtseyed and left. "You still there?" I asked
into the phone.
"Oui, mais, peut-tu parle en anglais, s'il vous plait?" Sam replied teasingly.
"Oops," I said sheepishly, switching back to English. "Sorry, Sam."
"No problem," Sam responded easily. "You have to go?"
"Yeah, fittings with the designer," I told him.
"Boy, if I had a nickel for every time I heard that excuse," Sam remarked with a
laugh. "Don't be a stranger, Serena. We're not blood, but you're still my sister."
I felt my eyes well up with tears again. "Thanks Sam," I said, my voice choked
with emotion. Sometimes I couldn't believe that Sam was only twelve years old.
Times like these made him seem wiser beyond his years. "Bye for now. Give everyone
my love and tell them I miss them."
"I will," Sam promised. "Bye sis, I love you."
"I love you too, Sam," I whispered before hanging up the phone. I sat on my bed
for a few minutes to compose myself. It wouldn't do for me to be too emotional
while I went through my daily routine. Taking a deep breath, I stood up and walked
out the door, leaving Serena Tsukino in my room.
to say that I've been experiencing severe writer's block with this story, and I still am.
It's just that I've been busy with another of my stories, and as a result, this one's been
on the backburner. So, if you want to help me out, then please send me ideas on what you'd
like to see happening in this story! I'm not promising that I'll use them, but I might just
get inspired. You'll get full credit for the idea if I do use it though. Anyway, enough of
my rambling. On with the story!
Ash
********************************************************************************************
Surprisingly enough, they agreed with me. Mother nodded and motioned for me to
take a seat. "You are right," she said. "We need to tell you about her."
"Is she...unstable?" I asked delicately.
Mother nodded reluctantly. "As a child we thought that she was very emotional,
but at the onset of puberty led us to believe that there was something very
wrong with her," she said.
"The doctor diagnosed her with Bipolar Manic Depressive Disorder," Father
added. "It was necessary for her to be medicated regularly.
"Why am I just finding this out now?" I asked. "If she is so seriously ill,
why did you not find it necessary to tell me?"
"As long as Beryl takes her medication, she is, for the most part, fine,"
Mother said.
"What happens when she doesn't take it?" I asked.
"You are witnessing it," Father told me.
"Can you not force her to take it?" I inquired. "Give her an injection?"
Father burst out laughing. "Good God, Serena, sheis not a horse," he exclaimed.
"Legally, she is not a minor in this country, so it is her choice."
I smiled in spite of the serious nature of our conversation. Hearing my father
refer to Beryl as a horse, was very amusing. I nodded, urging him to continue.
"When we believed that she was the princess, she willingly took her medication,"
he went on. "But when she found out that she was not, she shut down, refusing
any food or drink."
I nodded in understanding. "And her medicine as well," I realized.
"Eventually, she had to be hospitalized, due to malnutrition, and she was put
back on medication," Father continued. "Ever since you arrived, she has had
counseling sessions to try and deal with her situation."
"But it is not working, is it?" I guessed. "She is not dealing very well."
"No, she is not," Mother confirmed.
"Can you not place her somewhere where she can have more help and supervision,"
I asked.
Father shook his head. "Think of the tabloids that would descend upon Beryl
like vultures," he replied. "Discretion is absolutely necessary."
I nodded, resigned to the fact that I would have to live with Beryl for the
time being. "I do not suppose you could lock her up in the dungeon?" I asked
hopefully.
Mother tried to give me a stern look. "Serena, there hasn't been a need to use
the palace dungeon since the 1800's," she informed me. Her lips twitched as she
tried not to smile. "Besides, the dungeon is a part of the palace tour."
I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face. It was comforting to know
that my parents had a sense of humor.
"We will talk to security," Father promised me. "We will have guards keeping
watch on your rooms."
Just then, Mlle Aino opened the door and walked in. She curtseyed to my parents
and then to me. "You have a telephone call, your Majesty," she told me.
"Thank you," I replied. I curtseyed to my parents and then headed to my room to
take the phone call. I picked up the receiver and pushed a button, transferring
the call to my room. "This is the Princess."
There was a long pause on the other end of the conversation. "Happy birthday,
Serena," my American father said quietly.
My eyes widened with surprise and I quickly switched from French to English.
"Father! I mean...Mr. Tsukino...I mean..." I trailed off, not really knowing
what I could call him.
"Sweetie, Ken is fine," he told me.
"Ken." The name seemed odd, coming out of my mouth. This was the man who I
thought was my father for almost sixteen years, and now I was speaking to him
like a barely knew him. "How are you? And Mo...Ilene? And Sam?"
"We're fine," he replied. "We all miss you very much."
My eyes started to water. "I miss you too," I said softly. "What have you been
up to lately?"
"Nothing too interesting," he replied. "We've been watching you on television.
You seem to be adjusting beautifully."
I laughed lightly. "Not as beautifully as you might think," I told him. "It has
been hard at times."
"We're very proud of you, Serena," he told me.
I felt a lump in my throat. "Thank you," I whispered.
"Would you like to speak with Ilene?" he asked.
"Yes please," I said quietly. I heard the phone being passed and then suddenly,
the voice of Ilene Tsukino came over the line.
"Serena?" she said.
"Hi," I replied.
"How are you, dear?" she asked.
"Fine, I suppose," I replied. "I miss you so much."
I heard her voice hitch slightly. "I miss you too, Serena," she told me. "I saw
your birthday party on the news today. You looked very beautiful."
"Thanks," I said. "And thank you for all of my lessons. They have been very
helpful."
"I'm glad to hear that, dear," she replied. "I told you they would be useful."
"But you probably never thought that they would be used for international
diplomacy," I remarked with a laugh.
She joined in my laughter. "No, I never expected that," she agreed. "How is
Prince Darien?"
I couldn't help smiling. "Darien is great," I replied. "He is...the man of my
dreams."
"I'm glad he makes you happy," she told me.
"There is something I want to tell you," I said. "About Darien and myself."
"What is it?" she asked, concerned.
"We are getting married," I replied quickly, as if saying it fast would keep
her from hearing it. "On my eighteenth birthday."
"Honey, that's wonderful!" she exclaimed. "I'm so happy for you!"
I almost started crying with relief. Her approval still meant the world to me.
"I want you all to come to the wedding," I told her.
"Of course we will," she promised. "I'd love to see you on your wedding day.
Would you like to speak to Sam?"
"Of course," I replied. I heard the phone being passed again.
"Serena?"
I smiled at the sound of Sam's voice. "Hey, Sam," I said.
"Do I have to call you 'Your Highness'?" he asked warily.
I laughed. "No, of course not," I told him. "At least, not unless we are in
public. And even then, I would not expect you to."
"Cool. So what's it like over there?" Sam inquired.
"It is the same as where you are," I replied. "The weather is pretty much the
same."
"What about the people?" Sam asked.
"They are really nice," I told him. "You would like it here."
Sam laughed. "Is that a royal invitation?" he asked.
"You bet," I replied with a laugh. "It would be an international insult if you
did not visit me."
"You sound different," Sam told me.
"Different? In what way?" I asked curiously.
"Your voice," Sam replied. "You've got an accent. And even though you're not
speaking the way I'd expect a princess raised at court to speak, there's
something more...dignified about your speech. I haven't heard you use a single
contraction."
"I am...I'm sorry, Sam," I said softly. "You wouldn't believe how much I've been
lectured about my speech and mannerisms. It's a pain in the rear."
"Now that's more like it!" Sam exclaimed with a laugh. "Now say 'Don't come
around here no more'!"
"I am not saying that!" I protested laughingly. "I've never spoken like that and
I have no intention of starting."
"I miss you," he said, suddenly serious.
"I miss you too," I replied softly. "There's no one here to get into mischief
with."
"Well now I'm definitely coming to visit you," Sam promised with a laugh.
Just then, there was a knock at my door. "Hang on, will you?" I said to Sam. I
raised my voice and switched to French. "Enter."
Lita opened the door and came in. "Pardon me, your Highness, but you have an
appointment in thirty minutes with Mlle Meiou," she informed me.
"Thank you, Lita," I replied. She curtseyed and left. "You still there?" I asked
into the phone.
"Oui, mais, peut-tu parle en anglais, s'il vous plait?" Sam replied teasingly.
"Oops," I said sheepishly, switching back to English. "Sorry, Sam."
"No problem," Sam responded easily. "You have to go?"
"Yeah, fittings with the designer," I told him.
"Boy, if I had a nickel for every time I heard that excuse," Sam remarked with a
laugh. "Don't be a stranger, Serena. We're not blood, but you're still my sister."
I felt my eyes well up with tears again. "Thanks Sam," I said, my voice choked
with emotion. Sometimes I couldn't believe that Sam was only twelve years old.
Times like these made him seem wiser beyond his years. "Bye for now. Give everyone
my love and tell them I miss them."
"I will," Sam promised. "Bye sis, I love you."
"I love you too, Sam," I whispered before hanging up the phone. I sat on my bed
for a few minutes to compose myself. It wouldn't do for me to be too emotional
while I went through my daily routine. Taking a deep breath, I stood up and walked
out the door, leaving Serena Tsukino in my room.