Paparazzi Rising
Part 4. Felicidad's Story
“Perdona me, señora…” Felicidad de Fedorias said, trying to protest.
“¿Si?” asked Felicidad’s interrogator sternly.
She realized that if audience been anyone else other than Doña Carnelia Maria Juanita de Belcadiz y Fedorias, La Princesa de Belcadiz—and the only reason she could stay in Glantri City instead of being packed away to Nuevo Alvar—then perhaps she may have had the slightest chance in Pits to get away again.
Surrendering to her sorry fate, she merely said, “Pero, it was not my fault…”
That was the last straw.
The tirade of invectives and rants began. Felicidad had never seen her prima so furious.
“Si, si., hija, it was not your fault! It was not your fault you were expelled from the Great School of Magic for stealing spells from your masters! It was not your fault that you fell in love with every despicable and unsuitable pendejo from here to Wendar! It was not your fault that you and your ambitious Alphatian lover unleashed that lycanthropic curse on your party guests! It was not your fault that you single-handedly ruined the name of la familia Fedorias with your involvement in scandal after shameful scandal! It was not your fault that the whole of Glantrian society now gossips about you, and only invites you to ridicule you and provide entertainment for themselves! All of this was not your fault!”
La Princesa paused. Felicidad knew not to say anything yet.
“Felicidad, it is never your fault!”
Doña Carnelia made that one last statement—more of a verdict actually—which she punctuated with a snap of her fan.
Felicidad was beaten. She could only mumble, “Perdona me, señora… Lo siento. Yo… yo…”
But the Princess was not minding Felicidad. She made an exasperated, impatient gesture with her hand, and a magical quill floating beside her was hurriedly scribbling on a sheet of paper on her desk. With a final wave of her fan, Princess Carnelia sent the sheet of paper flying towards Felicidad’s waiting hands.
“Perdona me, señora. ¿Que es esto?” Felicidad asked.
“There is this syndicate of gossips, rumormongers, and conspirators, called the Paparazzi Glantri. I want you to join them! You will fit right in.”
At first, Felicidad was confused, but La Princesa would not suffer any more foolishness from her.
“Look for that woman, a Caurenzan—Beatriz Dominatore.”
At the mention of the name, Felicidad’s eyes opened wide. Was this not the same woman who embarrassed her atrociously at the party at the Malapietra Estate just the previous night by recounting Felicidad’s fiasco of accidentally transforming her guests into werefrogs?
The Princess of Belcadiz confirmed Felicidad’s suspicions for her.
“A ver, you recognize the name. Bien. Find her. Join the Paparazzi. Find out what you can. At the very least, you can redeem your name from the gossip.”
Felicidad realized there was no protesting now. Before she could rise from her seat, La Princesa gave her one last warning.
“And remember, Felicita, you are working for me.”
