Meg — Cabot Royal Wedding [portable]

The baker made the cake out of tofu. (Michael’s attempt to be healthy backfired. It looked like a stack of wet paper towels.) The choir from the Genovian Royal Academy learned the wrong song—they were prepared to sing “Baby Got Back” instead of “Ave Maria.” And worst of all, the tiara arrived.

I am not just Mia Thermopolis. I am Her Royal Highness, Princess of Genovia. And royal weddings are not weddings . They are state functions with better catering. meg cabot royal wedding

One month ago, my handsome, sushi-obsessed, perfect-in-every-way fiancé, Michael Moscovitz, got down on one knee in the middle of a Genovian olive grove (he had an olive leaf stuck in his hair—it was adorable) and asked me to marry him. Obviously, I said yes. I’ve loved him since I was fourteen years old and he was a brooding artist who smelled like paint thinner and justice. The baker made the cake out of tofu