Chapter Text
PROLOG
I don’t think anyone’s ever ready for the moment the world shifts around them.
Even when you’ve seen it coming. Even when you’ve rehearsed every word, every breath, every blink — it still catches you.
The royal publicist was still talking. Something about duty to clarify public record and her own words, in her own voice, bla bla. I wasn’t really listening.
I was too busy watching the blitz flicker under the velvet curtains, or maybe I was too busy staring at my reflection in the dressing room mirror, like it might tell me something I didn’t already know. Like, literally, I don’t even know what am i doing here.
It’s crazy, why am I nervous right now? I’ve stood in front of flashing lights since I was fifteen. I've done award shows, world tours, red carpets. I’ve sung in front of millions and barely blinked. But right now? My palms are sweating. My stomach feels like I swallowed an entire volcano on this planet, and it erupted all at once.
Well, okay — maybe I’m not nervous. Just... something. Ugh. I don’t even know how to describe it.
Anxious?
Exposed?
Anger?
I dont know it more like when you trapped in a dream where I showed up to school wearing that T-rex baloon, except it’s real life, and I’m about to tell the whole world I’m secretly a princess?
Why am I even doing this?
Should I go back? I could go back. Right now. Just sneak out the back hallway, grab a hoodie, and fly to Alaska? Russia? Should I go back? I could. I could tell them I changed my mind.That I’ll release a written statement. That my schedule’s suddenly full. Or that I got food poisoning from a questionable shrimp cocktail, amnesia — anything.
But no…. That would look pathetic.
And stupid.
And also... I think I’d hate myself for that.
***
The knock on the door is soft.
“Your Royal Highness?” the assistant calls. “They’re ready.”
There it is again.
Your Royal Highness.
I used to hear that title all the time when I was younger — called by bodyguards, staff, by tutors, said carefully at garden parties. Then it disappeared, right around the time I did.
For the past ten years, I’ve just been Amanda Gabriella.
Popstar. Billboard chart-topping, tour-slaying, slightly-messy, very-glam Amanda Gabriella.
But behind the scenes, I’m still me, like when I visit my parents' house or when I play with my nephew, like deep down I know that I am and always will be a princess. And actually, it's giving Hannah Montana vibe, only more complicated.
***
The hallway outside is lined with velvet carpet and subtle security. As I walk through it, every footstep feels louder than it should. My chest tightens. I take one last breath as I approach the doorway.
And then—
Boom.
Flash.
The world explodes. They’re all there.
Cameras. Lights. Phones. Lenses so big they could capture my soul. I blink through the spotlight and feel my whole body brace for impact.
I keep walking.
It’s like muscle memory now — shoulders back, chin up, small smile. Not too big. Not too cold. Just enough to say: I’m here, and I’m in control.
Even if I’m totally not.
From here, I could see their… I don't know hard to read because it's mixed with so many expressions like confusion and also shock, anda full question mark like I know they totally didn't expect that I'm gonna be here at all. Actually, I also hope I'm not even here.
The podium waits in the center of the stage, perfectly lit. A single microphone, I step up.
The noise quiets just enough for my voice to carry. I grip the sides of the podium like I’m afraid I might float away.
“I know there have been questions. For years.”
“So here’s the answer.”
“Yes. I’m Princess Gabriella Amanda Alexandra Harrington. Daughter of Liliana of Cambridge.”
Silence.
And then—
Flash. Flash. Flash. Flash.
A tidal wave of camera shutters.
“I’ve always known.”
“I wasn’t hidden. I was protected. I was given a choice, and I took it. I built my life in private. Well, not so private because at the end of the day, I'm still a global singer, but why I decided to stand here today is not because I’m asking for a crown or validation. It’s simply I'm here because, as Harrington, this names have weight. And I’m done leaving mine on silent, and from now on, I will proudly carry it on my shoulder.
And also, I want to clean up my name. I’ve seen the headlines. The interviews. And for the record, no, I’m not engaged. And I haven’t authorized anyone to speak on my behalf, romantically or otherwise.”
When I step down, I swear I can still hear my heart pounding louder than the press who were asking some questions, hoping that I will have a Q&A section, but no, I’m done. At least for now.
But for the first time in months, it’s not fear.
It’s freedom. And I am proud of myself for doing it.