Overnight Princess

A story of how I went from being plain old Becky (Cooper to Si) to being Princess Rebecca of Ishramnia. Of how I gave up my normal life to follow in my late fathers footsteps.


2. The letter

When I came to, I was in my bed. ‘Thank God, it was a dream.’ I thought. But when I sat up I saw there was a note on my bedside table. ‘Sweetheart, I hope your okay. I should’ve told you before, but I was worried about how you’d react. Lee managed to electrocute himself so I’ve taken him to A&E. if you want to get in touch with your Gran she left her landline at the bottom of your letter. Be back soon. Love Mum xx’ So it wasn’t a dream. I’d phone – Gran, later. First I had to phone my best friend in the entire world. She was coming over later, but I needed her now. Dialling her number she answered on the third ring. “What gives, I was sleeping!” Codi yelled. “Sorry, but well you know how I’ve waited all my life for my father and his family to get in touch? Well, turns out his dead but he was a prince. My Grandmother – the Queen I guess – sent me a letter today.” I repeated the letter and all of what my Mum had told me. “And now, I’ve got the number to the family, who I’ve always wanted to know and yet I can’t bring myself to call it.” I finished. Codi had been quiet whilst I told her, except for the odd gasp. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Out of curiosity, is Jordan there?” I laughed. Jordan was my step-brother – when Jon was sixteen he got a girl pregnant. She didn’t want the baby, so Jon said he’d raise him. And of course Codi fancied the pants of him. I think what appealed her most was the fact that he had his own flat and car. And the fact that he was older (twenty) “Nope, why would he be? He might be dropping by later.” I replied, trying hard to stop myself laughing. She sighed and said, “Okay. Wait, did you say he might be dropping off later?” she ended her sentence hopefully. “Well, he IS my brother; we’ve grown up for the last twelve years together.” I said. It creeped me out how Codi changed around him – but then again, whenever he picked me up from wherever or he was around when my mates where, they all swooned at the knees. It was really annoying. However, J took it all in his stride and even flirted back a bit. However he always told me that he didn’t like any of them; not like that anyway. “I’m going to get changed. Be around in five minutes.” With that she hung up. I looked around me. I’d walked into the kitchen, and saw the breakfast that Mum had been preparing. I also saw my letter. The letter, telling me everything. I hadn’t read it properly yet, since I had only wanted to know if it was from my Dad. I grabbed a can of coke out of the fridge and made myself a sandwich. Sitting down in the lounge, my breakfast in front of my, I took a sip of coke and started reading the letter. Here, I’ll stick a copy in my diary.

Dear Rebecca,

This is your Grandmother. I hope your mother has told you about your heritage. However, since she asked me to stay away, I’ll assume otherwise. Your father, has died. He was the link to the throne once I had died. It was such a shame that he didn’t know you. However, his cousin Steve informed me of his English lover – your mother. I sent her a letter asking whether he had fathered a child whilst he had been with her. She replied with a certain language I shan’t repeat. She said that she was carrying a child; however she didn’t want the man who abandoned her to have anything to do with you. We tried to track you, however your mother changed her name and her look, dying her hair and wearing contacts. Since your father died, you are the next in line for the throne. You are lucky. Your cousin, William, asked that you be left alone. Henry agreed. They had grown up with the paparazzi and they hated it. It caused the death of their mother, Diana, after all. The rest of the family – the English royal family, in case you hadn’t guessed that yet, - said that you should be informed when you were eighteen, as they wished they had been. If your father was still alive, I’m sure he would have flown to England to meet you today. If you wish, you may call my Palace and I shall fly to England as soon as I can. I hope you take this better than your mother did, by trying as hard as possible to get away. It took me eighteen years but I finally found you. Your mother sent a few pictures up until you were six. Then for some reason they stopped. However, when you turned nine they started again. Your father was buried with a copy of each of these photos. You were his pride and joy. In case you were wondering, he never married nor had any more children. Whenever I asked him why, he simply replied, ‘Because, she cant replace Becky.’ He has met you a few times – as have I. I don’t know if you remember, but we brought you home for a week. Your mother had gotten married and was on her honeymoon. She agreed to let us have you for the week. We have photos from that week here, if you’d like to see them. There is also the first photo we had taken after you called your father, Daddy. It broke his heart not seeing you but he had to0 respect your mother’s wishes. He loved you more than anything and I know it would please him greatly if you came home. You’re a Princess, Rebecca. Your duty, is to take the throne. However, your father’s last wish was to give you the choice. Lead your old life as normally as you do now, or come and be a princess. So, it’s up to you. Please get in touch. I haven’t spoken to you in twelve years. My one grandchild. Here is the Palace’s number; 2456 7486 5456. I hope to hear from you soon Becky.


Gran x

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