The Heiress Club

Chapter 1: House Manners

The view from my room is stunning. The front of Arbourne with its carefully trimmed hedges and fields, is already beautiful enough, but it doesn't truly do it justice. From my window on the third floor of Manners House, I can see down to the golf course and the small lake right on the edge of Arbourne property. When I look closely, I catch sight of a graceful glass building—their greenhouse—in the distance. At Arbourne, you get what you pay for. And you pay for a lot.

They've even furnished our rooms for us, at least with the basics. They allowed us to call in and order things directly to the school, promising to set it up for us. They delivered. The elegant cream bed and mattress I ordered are arranged in the corner opposite of a matching desk and wardrobe. I've decorated my room as I see fit with a luxurious persian rug resembling the night sky and various other trinkets, and piled my cream suitcases back into the assistant's car. Sparky left to attend the new parent coffee.

Compared to other places, it's a tad small, but my room also exits into a common room which I share with two others, along with a bathroom.

Suddenly, I hear a scuffling, and a door slams open. Speak of the devil! That must be one of my roommates.

I hear a string of rapid-fire Spanish and decide it's a good time to enter the common room. Why not?

Immediately, I'm greeted with a mountain of suitcases toppling onto the floor of the common room. A girl my age with honey-blonde hair in an elaborate braid stands, looking at her mom exasperatedly. "Mamá! Look what you've done!" she protests exasperatedly.

"You're the one who wanted to bring it up on your own," her mom fires back. I swear I've seen her before—there's something familiar about the curve of her nose and the sweep of pale brown hair.

"It was fine until you tried to help," the girl sighs, turning towards me. She sees me, and her eyes widen.

I wave sarcastically. "Bad time?" I joke.

Her cheeks flush red. Her mom turns to me, and then it hits me. I have seen them before! It's la Reina Mariana and Infanta—

"Esmeralda," her mom, the queen of Spain, reprimands, "introduce yourself!"

"I was going to! Hi, hello," Esmeralda, the third princess of Spain, says with a nervous glance in my direction. "I'm Esmeralda."

I grin. Interacting with royalty isn't all that nerve-wracking if you know the right people. "Yeah, I know. Daniele and Gaetano told me all about you."

In an instant, her nervousness falls away, and her face lights up at hearing those familiar names. "You know the twins? Are you Italian?" she exclaims.

Daniele and Gaetano are the twin sons of the prime minister of Italy; they've met Esmeralda at numerous diplomatic events before. I nod. "Valentina Bianchi. It's nice to meet you. I guess we're roommates."

Valentina shakes my hand vigorously, and I wait politely to see if the queen wants to offer as well. She does, but her handshake is lighter, and she looks over me as if appraising me. I suspect her appraisal went well because she turns to Esmeralda with a smile. "Well, you certainly got lucky with your roommate. I'm glad you two share friends. I'll be leaving for the coffee now; have fun, girls."

Esmeralda waves at her mom, beaming. As soon as her mom leaves the room, she rolls up her sleeves and springs into action, hauling the suitcases upright and shoving them over to her dorm in a very unladylike fashion. It allows me to really look at her. Her elaborate braid and similarly formal dress are awkward on her wiry body. She looks like she'd be more at ease in golf clothes or riding gear than the muted red cocktail dress she currently wears.