"Nothing happened, except that John's lazy," said Patrick. "He said his bag was too heavy and we found the wheelchair along the way, so we took it."

"That makes very little sense, I know," John added.

Fabio, at another table behind his Acqua Minerale that he had brought from home, made a rather loud and denigrating comment in Italian upon seeing his opponent being wheeled in. Nobody understood him, except Anna, and she replied to him in the same language. She spoke in such a sweet tone that everybody thought she had said something nice, although Fabio's reaction indicated that perhaps it had not been so very nice after all.

"What was that all about?" Patrick asked.

Anna looked uncomfortable with all the stares she received. She wished she had been able to keep her mouth shut and she desperately hoped nobody had been able to understand Italian. "Why is everyone looking at me? I hate that." She looked at John. "Are you wrecked?" She supposed he was merely overreacting in order to get his massage, but she did not want to judge too quickly. After all, it would be unfeeling to make light of any serious pain he might be feeling and he was not really the type to be squeamish. She supposed this act could be qualified as flirting, then, and his behaviour before the match had been -- well, that was more difficult to interpret -- nerves combined with an extra dose of nerves. It was a bit astonishing to see that he could suffer from nerves and even more so that she seemed to be both the cause and the remedy.

"Pretty much." So Anna was still uncomfortable with attention. He wondered if people looked at her because she was the Queen, or because she was just very pretty. It was an idea worth bringing up to her, to see what she would say to that. She either did not know or did not care about her looks, which he preferred -- now at least they were not ruined by any make-up. She did not seem to wear it, ever. He had seen whatever she used, wore and carried, but she was probably so used to having little privacy that she had not seemed to mind if people came to know that about her, as long as they did not know her mind. However, a person's actions and belongings often betrayed more about that person than she wished to reveal with words. Perhaps all those other people only saw small pieces of her, Seton thought, but he had seen more.

He did look a little tired. Poor baby. Anna frowned at herself. Considering that he was nearly two metres tall, he hardly deserved to be referred to as baby. Although he did act like one and she felt she ought to take care of him. It would not do to offer a massage right here in front of all these people. But she could do it differently and he would understand it too, she hoped. "Do you have a personal masseur?" She saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes.

"No." To say this in the euphoric and admiring tone that went with his mood, would sound odd, so he kept his voice rather flat, but nevertheless he appreciated her sly tactic.

"Would you like to borrow one?" she asked. "I have one at the Palace." The Palace sounded better than home, because if she said home, that would imply that she would be there as well and now she left this unclear.

"Is that expensive?" Would she have one there or did she mean herself? From that little sparkle in her eye he guessed that she meant herself, but how on earth was he supposed to go to the Palace?

The rest of the table listened attentively. They found it enormously generous that the Queen would lend out her personal masseur. She was quite a decent woman, in person, and not at all as haughty as they had been assuming beforehand. True, she said very little of her own accord, but her replies were getting longer all the time and she only seemed to be needing a warming-up in order to converse freely.

"Expensive? I don't know. I never pay for it."

No, she would not. "How does it work? How do I get there?"

"Oh," said Anna indifferently. "You just go to the gate and say who you are and then they let you in. I'm going there now, so I can inform them that you'll be arriving."

"I have to give some interviews first," Seton said with regret. He hoped she did not have anywhere to go later on.

"That's alright. The masseuse will have to get ready too, I suppose." She tried not to smile. "Umm…and don't mention the masseuse in your interviews, if you please…"

"Can I come?" Patrick cut in. "I've never been to a Palace before. Will we get to see…your sister, maybe?"

"My sister? It's quite a large building," Anna clarified. "And she might be having dinner in one wing while you are in the other with the masseuse." She did not see why he should want to see her sister. "My sister?" she repeated with a puzzled smile. "Are you interested in my sister?" This idea transformed her features completely and she giggled like a schoolgirl.

The sponsors were amazed. Up to now, she had been very serious.

It was not difficult to get past the gates -- Anna had apparently announced their visit to the guards. He phoned her from the car. "We're in. Where do we go now?"

"You drive around the right corner and then you park where you see all those cars. Someone is having a party tonight, so it's very busy there. Instead of going through the big entrance there, you walk on until you see me."

They found Anna and followed her inside very quickly, since she was wearing no coat. She smiled. "Well, that was easy, wasn't it?" She led them into a sitting room. "This is where Celeste and I live. She's out at the moment." While Patrick slowly wandered about the room, Anna took the opportunity to embrace his brother.

"She's out?" Patrick asked in disappointment. "Am I stuck with the two of you?" He glanced in their direction. Completely oblivious to him, they were. John had it bad, but Anna too. He hoped they would grow out of it eventually, but preferably right now. And they were not even kissing. Was that still to come? Or had they already done that?

"Sorry," Anna said in embarrassment when she realised she had been taking rather long to greet John. "But since Sunday morning it's been --"

"Two and a half days," Patrick supplied. "Not two and a half years."

Anna stuck out her tongue at him and sat down on the couch. John followed her. He looked around himself. "This is not your inner sanctum," he remarked. It was too tidy. He suspected Marie-Celeste had had a hand -- or the only hand -- in fitting out this room.

"No. We share this sitting room. I keep all my rubbish in there," she pointed at a door.

"Where do the rest of the family live?"

"A little down the hall…or in town. It depends on how…umm…dominant they are. Some moved out because they didn't like the rules here. Neither do I, but I have to stay here," she smiled. "All I could do was move out of my parents' apartment. We did that when Celeste went to university too. She had more persuading power than I did. She tried to persuade him to buy us a house in town so we could study in peace, but he wouldn't do it. This was a bit of a compromise. And just when I was looking into houses and such, he died. Very unfortunate. So I'm still stuck in this, but since nobody will ever know how I live, it doesn't really matter. Then there are all the common rooms as well…although the servants are all over those, of course."

"Where do you eat?"

"Oh, I eat in the restaurant like I've always done. I could eat in the dining room every day, but I found it too much bother to go over the menu every week. I have a simple taste," Anna shrugged. "And the chefs feel insulted by people with a simple taste. You're hungry, aren't you?"

"Umm…well…a little," Seton admitted. "But I didn't mean to --"

Anna looked at her watch. "It's early yet. I'll get some oil."

"Oil?"

She returned a minute later with a bottle of oil and two towels. "I think it would be best if you lay down on the table," she said, looking at him critically.

"On the table," he repeated. "Don't you have a bed?"

"I do, but I'd rather not take you there." What if Celeste came back? Or if someone else came to see how she was doing?

"The table is too short. I'll lie on the floor," he said.

Anna shrugged. She spread a towel on the floor and gave him one for his head. Patrick watched it all in amusement. "I don't know, but it might work better if you let him take off some clothes."

"Oops," Anna said. "You're right. It's okay to strip now, John. There are no cameras."

"They actually brought that up during the interview," he said as he took off his shirt. "They asked me if you were shocked."

"What did you say?"

"I said how could she be shocked at seeing five centimetres of a tennis short when she's been watching guys play in them for hours? And then they asked me what you said, so I said you said what, no further?"

Anna slapped him and kicked off her shoes so she could sit on her knees more comfortably. "They didn't believe you, I hope?"

"No, of course not. They probably thought you gave me some stern admonition." He lay down on the towel and she began to knead his muscles. "Ow."

"Am I hurting you?" Anna asked in concern.

"Maybe I really needed a massage. That was a sensitive spot there on my shoulder. Am I right and does that oil really have a lemon scent?"

"Yes, you'll be smelling of lemon when I'm done."

"Oh, great," Seton said dryly. "So how are things with the PM?"

"He's being a pain. I haven't spoken to him anymore after that one talk. It's just a waste of time and it only costs me a lot of energy, because I have to be very firm and confident and as you know, I'm not. It's very difficult."

"Has he threatened you?"

"No."

"That means he's probably planning something."

"Does he know you?" Anna asked. "Was it wise to appear in public? What if he sees you on TV and he puts two and two together?"

"We'll see. I don't know if Thalen passed on our names. I handed in my resignation, by the way."

"Good. Why did you have that job anyway?"

"Oh, I was bored. What will you -- ahh --" His body twitched a little when Anna's hands came too near his waist. Her light touch was very ticklish. "-- do when you've got rid of him?"

"I can't stay on for too long," she said calmly. "Celeste will take over. She said she would. She likes it."

Patrick had listened to them in silence. He had not been able to picture his brother as Prince John, consort of Queen Anna, but if she became Princess Anna, it was different. She would not receive so much attention then. He wondered whether he would be leaving here with or without his brother.

As Anna explained what she and her sister had agreed on, Marie-Celeste herself walked in. She stopped in shock upon seeing the scene before her. "Anna! What is going on?"

"I was giving a massage, but I've just finished," Anna said and got to her feet. "I'll be right back. I have to wash my hands."

Marie-Celeste looked from one man to the other and then rested her eyes on the bottle of oil with a distasteful expression on her face.

"Cel!" Anna reappeared, waving her dripping hands dry.

"Anna, what are you doing? You can't --" she sighed and shook her head. "Anna! Don't you ever think? Don't you know we have --"

Anna turned on her heels and stormed out of the room.

"Oh, God," Seton muttered. He picked up his shirt and pulled it back on.

"But you are…" Marie-Celeste said slowly when she recognised him.

"Yes, I am. Excuse me." He went after Anna.

"Where do you think you are going? That's her bedroom," Marie-Celeste protested.

He turned back to her. "I don't care if it is."

"You're not allowed in there."

"We shared a bedroom in her summer house," he said in annoyance and walked on.

Marie-Celeste gasped and sat down. "Anna slept with him."

"Not in the sense you are referring to," Patrick said.

"How would you know? Who are you?"

"He's my brother and he would have told me," he answered. "I asked him and he said they hadn't. So there." He sincerely hoped John had not been lying.

"She's my sister and she didn't tell me anything!" Marie-Celeste cried.

"Then I'm the nicer sibling!"

"He lied to you. He said they shared a bedroom."

"Exactly. So they slept in the same bed. That's not the same as sleeping with each other."

"Oh, sure!" she cried. "Which man would be able to sleep in the same bed as a woman and not do anything?"

"Ahh," he said shrewdly. "Was that your experience with men? Does this mean you apply other standards to your own behaviour than to your sister's?"

Red spots appeared on Marie-Celeste's cheeks from embarrassment and anger. "I am not the Queen!"

"But I heard you were going to be!" Patrick countered. "So why should you be allowed and not your sister?"

Seton bumped into Anna the moment he entered her bedroom. Apparently she was on her way out again. "What are you doing?" she asked when he closed the door behind him.

"What are you doing?" he answered, completely baffled. There was no sign of tears, not even of distress. She was perfectly unperturbed, only curious at what had made him follow her.

"I used the wrong bottle. It's Cel's lemon bath oil. I knew she'd get upset about that, but I hoped she wouldn't notice. I'll have to give her mine, now."

"Women!" he exclaimed. "I'm sorry if I'm insulting you, but I don't understand women. Bath oil? I thought it was something serious."

"It is serious. It's her bath oil." Anna bit her lip and stifled a grin. "It will probably start foaming when you take a shower."

He groaned. "I hate bath oil. By the way," he looked around himself. "Your bedroom is not quite what I had expected."

"Oh, that, you mean?" Anna pointed at a shelf full of trophies. "I don't know where else to keep them. In won them when I was young." She listened to the sounds coming from the sitting room. "What are they arguing about?"

Seton had heard Marie-Celeste's words just before he had gone into Anna's room, so he could guess at what they were discussing. "Let them argue," he said.

"Do you propose that we stay here?"

"Yes." He did not know what they should do there, but anything was better than barging in on a discussion of their love life and have them ask him questions. A thought struck him suddenly. Maybe Anna and Marie-Celeste had not talked about it like Patrick and he had. Maybe she would not like it that he had. He had not given that any thought and he frowned.

"What's the matter?" Anna asked.

"Did you talk to your sister about us?"

"No. Should I have?" she asked upon seeing his expression.

"Why didn't you? Did you think it was private?"

Anna looked up at him. He sounded as if he had told someone and he did not know if he had done right in telling. "Who did you tell?"

"Patrick."

"But your whole family knows."

"I told Patrick everything." He stressed the last word. "The details, I mean. The how and when. Are you angry with me now?"

Anna blushed in embarrassment. "I hope it was a rough sketch," she whispered. "Or will you tell him when you go home that you stood here with your hands on my waist and about twenty centimetres between us, then fifteen, then ten --" Anna drew back. "Please? You wouldn't."

"No, not like that. It was more like a general description of what we did."

She stared at one of the buttons of his polo shirt. A general description. She wondered what that would be.

"I'm sorry Anna. He asked me about us and I told him."

"It's alright," she said eventually. "I'm glad you're telling me that you gave away the whole, interesting truth about our love life. I hope he didn't laugh at it."

"Why would he? I think you've been reading far too many of those silly magazines. They're rubbish. And the educational value of such rubbish is nil. There's absolutely no point in reading about -- what was it again that I read? How to seduce a man in six steps, or something. What happened to asking the man in how many steps he wants to be seduced? I might not want six steps. I might want one, or ten, or none at all. You should always ask the undergoer."

"In some cases you can't ask anything if you have no clue that it can be undergone," Anna said cleverly. "And then reading might be useful."

"And that will only make you think you're ignorant. Chuck out the magazines, Anna. Get a subscription to Sport International or something."

"I don't have to. It's in the reading room too," she grinned.

"You have everything, don't you?" he asked. "What do people give you on your birthday? You wouldn't get money."

"My birthday was last month, so don't worry -- you have eleven months. There is something I want for my next birthday, though, but I won't say what it is yet. There's still time." Or maybe it was better to get it in January. "When is yours?"

"Last week. December 21. The day we met."

"That was your birthday?" Anna exclaimed. "And you didn't get anything!" She looked at him pityingly, but he shrugged that he did not care. "What do you think, John -- they're still arguing -- shall we go and have dinner?"

"Would you dare to take me?" John listened to the sounds coming from behind the door. Patrick liked a good discussion and apparently Marie-Celeste did too. It would be cruel to interrupt.

"I shouldn't have to be worried about that in my own home," she mused, unbuttoning her blouse. "But still, it might be better…"

"Anna?" he blinked. What was she doing? Did she want him to give her a massage now?

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

Anna took off her blouse and skirt and hung them over the back of a chair, causing it to fall backwards because of the large number of clothes hanging on it. "Hanging up my clothes." She attempted to restore the chair to its former position with all the clothes, but it would not work so she threw all of them on the bed.

"What for?"

"I'm changing clothes."

"Oh." He wished she would take a while.

She pulled on a tracksuit and a rugby shirt she nearly drowned in. "Now we look like we've been up to something athletic together. Very innocent. They will assume that you're an instructor of sorts."

"Why would you take him to dinner?"

"Why not? I'm quite generous. Come," she took his hand and pulled him out of the room through another door.

They were now walking down a hallway and John expected to encounter some family members or servants any second, but they did not see anyone until they came downstairs. Nobody of the staff paid any attention to Anna. They seemed used to the sight of her and they barely gave him a second glance, except a young man Anna waved at and who waved back.

"It's self-service," Anna whispered when they entered the informal dining room. "Good, isn't it? You can take as much as you want."

"Excellent." He followed her going past the dishes and loaded his tray full of food. The restaurant was almost empty. He supposed that most people had gone home and that it was only the night staff eating their dinner here. There were a few guards in their uniforms, a few lackeys and a few women, all of them wearing nametags. Again they paid no attention to Anna other than respectful nods. Anna pointed towards a table where the young man she had waved at sat together with another young man.

"Wow, were you hungry?" she smiled, looking at his tray as they walked over.

"Yes. And you?" he looked at the amount of mashed potatoes on her plate.

"I went running for a bit before you arrived, but I'm always hungry."

"Hello Anna, is your companion someone you want to hide from the family too?" the young man greeted her jovially.

Anna turned red. "My cousin Charles-Louis and his friend David. This is John. And yes, I suppose that this is the place where we dine with the people we want to spare an introduction."

"But," Charles-Louis clarified. "It must be said that we are the people who matter, so if you are introduced to us, you're part of the in-crowd."

"The out-crowd, Louis," Anna corrected.

"No, no, no. Anyone who has the Queen's approval is automatically in, Muppet. If David ever gets me to say yes, you must be our witness."

Seton wondered how bad the rest of the family was that unsuitable friends had to be kept away from them. It was an unpleasant feeling to know that you were probably unsuitable. The rest of the family seemed to sponge off the Queen, considering that he did not know any of them so they probably did not work for their living and they still had elaborate dinners every night.

"I will," Anna smiled. "But what's keeping you?"

"Oh, I don't know really."

"It's my cat," said David. "They hate each other and I'm stuck in between. Are you still coming with us Friday night? Louis said you promised."

"Where to?"

"The premiere of the play I'm in. I won't be with you there, but we're going to a New Year's Eve party in the theatre afterwards. You can bring whoever you want. Louis has got ten tickets."

"Alexandra wants to come too," said Louis ominously.

"Oh no," said Anna. "Is it one of those wild parties?"

Seton knew Alexandra was Anna's other sister, who was almost fifteen years younger than Anna. He did not know that Alexandra was a party girl. In fact, he did not know anything about her other than that she existed.

"No, she promised to behave herself."

"What does my mother say about it?" Anna asked.

"She said it was alright."

Anna sighed. Her mother was completely incapable of keeping Alexandra in line. "Don't take Alexandra. She will misbehave if she knows I'm there. She's hated me ever since I forced her to either study or work."

John was halfway through his mashed potatoes -- real ones, Anna had assured him, no instant rubbish -- when Anna put down her knife and fork and stared over his shoulder at the entrance. "Celeste is angry," she said. He turned, but could not detect any signs of anger in Marie-Celeste as she approached their table with Patrick in tow. He supposed that was because he did not know her as well as Anna did.

"Are you sure you and Celeste aren't twins?" Charles-Louis asked. "You go for the same type of man."

"He's my brother," John explained. If Marie-Celeste was indeed angry, he was not so sure that she went for Patrick, but it was amusing to hear Louis say that nevertheless.

"Couldn't you have told us you were going?" Marie-Celeste hissed politely at Anna.

"We didn't want to interrupt your conversation," Anna said innocently. Patrick grinned sardonically, but said nothing. "Will you join us?" she asked.

Patrick immediately left to get some food -- apparently he shared his brother's big appetite -- but Marie-Celeste remained standing beside their table. "I don't like it that you left me alone with…with --"

"-- My brother," said John. He wondered what had gone on.

Celeste ignored him completely. Anna concentrated on her carrot salad. It was amusing to see Celeste so discomposed. She ventured a sly glance at Patrick, but he had his back towards her.

"We waited for you to come out, because we didn't want to interrupt you. Finally he -- not me -- looked and he said you were gone," Marie-Celeste said in a huff. "And then he told me to look for you, because he said he could not leave without his brother. He gave me no choice -- he would either have to stay the night here himself or let his brother stay the night with you."

"And what is wrong with that, Cel?" Anna asked, slightly offended. Did her sister want to decide for her that she could not let John stay the night? That would only make her ask him. "I might have invited John to stay without Patrick's knowledge."

"Anna, you wouldn't. You can't do that in your position."

"Wouldn't you?" Anna said angelically. "From the way you speak about him I conclude that you wouldn't, which I like since I'd be jealous, but I'd prefer it if you didn't speak about John as if he weren't present. He's sitting right across from me and he can hear you insult him quite clearly."

"I'm not insulted," John said calmly. Marie-Celeste was merely a concerned sister, but one who should learn that she should not make any decisions for her sister anymore.

"You ought to be glad that Mama never comes in here," Celeste said to Anna. She did not often come in here herself. Anna had never understood that she was weakening her position by not eating in their formal dining room if she was alone. The fact that Anna did not eat here more often than twice a week, because she was usually otherwise engaged, did not matter much to Marie-Celeste. It was the principle that mattered. Anna ought to keep her distance and not flaunt her lover -- despite what lover's brother claimed -- in front of everyone and neither should Louis, for that matter. Not when not all of the family had been allowed to take a stand on the subject. She suspected that most of them did not even know about David yet. The family could not risk any divisions at the moment.

"She would be shocked at seeing Her Royal Holiness converse with commoners," Patrick commented as he sat down. He had discovered that it gave him a perverse pleasure to rile her by calling her a Royal Holiness.

"Will you not interfere?" Marie-Celeste asked. "We can all do without your comments, thank you." And especially without that title. He was mocking her and she had never been mocked before. It was not at all nice to be mocked. It left her rather at a loss for words.

However, Patrick did not care. He saw that everyone, even Anna, was suppressing a smile and supposed that he was only giving Marie-Celeste what she deserved. He did not mind giving her more. "I agree with you, actually. I don't think it's at all acceptable for the Queen to display her new flame so openly and especially not the way they are dressed, which is obviously proof of a careless nature and the need to put on some clothes in a hurry, without giving any consideration to the impression this will make on the public, whose sordid little minds will jump to all sorts of undesirable conclusions in the instant they perceive their sovereign in such a state." He was well dressed himself, although he had absolutely no objection to tracksuits, which she would not know.

John saw that Louis and David were nearly under the table, but that both Marie-Celeste's and Anna's eyes had widened during this speech. He did not care if Marie-Celeste believed Patrick, but Anna should not and he winked at her. She still looked incredulous.

Marie-Celeste's face was inscrutable when she turned around and walked to the buffet.

"Oh oh oh!" Patrick shook his head when she was gone. "What a priceless hypocritical prig! I had the most wonderful discussion with her about what you were doing in Anna's bedroom. She assumed the worst and though she was getting sick of me, she dared not disturb you. Of course I kept urging her to do so, saying that you were much more decent than she was and that she ought not to judge Anna by her own standards. And when I threatened to walk in, she nearly exploded and she was furious when we found the room empty. Of course she was secretly relieved, but she could not be agreeing with me, now could she?"

Marie-Celeste enjoyed a dinner with people her own age much more than with her older relatives, who were always interfering and telling her what to wear and that life had been much better in the good old days, although she did not speak much, preoccupied as she was. It was not that she had something against Pierre -- or John, as he was now called -- but she could not help being concerned for her sister. She had only known the man for a few days before she had declared herself to be in love with him. There were some people who did that all the time, but Anna was not one of them. Anna had always been extremely critical and cautious, and now she seemed to have abandoned all caution. She herself had always been cautious not to invite male friends over and to meet them elsewhere, and therefore not much of that had leaked out.

Consequently, Anna's imprudence was completely incomprehensible to Marie-Celeste. Did Anna not know that being seen with a man would automatically lead to rumours about an engagement? And if you were not certain of your choice, it would be very difficult to become certain, with all the attention that would be devoted to it. She tried to gauge how certain Anna was, but it was next to impossible to guess the depth of Anna's feelings.

Since she was sitting next to John, she could study him unobserved. She could forgive him for his outfit. His brother had told her that he had been playing tennis, which meant that he could be a relatively public figure, depending on how good he was. That would make the transition less great. There was very little that did not count in his favour, she realised, except his birth, but in these days it was not of vital importance anymore.

"I have to talk to you," John whispered to Marie-Celeste when he caught her looking at him.

"Why?" she whispered back. It was pretty impolite to whisper in company.

"What are you worried about?"

"Anna. You must refuse if she asks you to stay."

"Anna knows what she's doing," he replied. "She won't ask me." He stated it as a fact, not as a regret. "Don't think she's not thinking. She's probably thinking more than usual."

"What if she does ask you?" Marie-Celeste persisted.

"If she insists that I stay, I'll stay. Surely you must know that an unhappy Anna will make herself completely unpopular?"

"You don't sound too much in love," she said, referring to his detached manner and wondered if it was not too insulting to say so. "If you don't mind my saying so."

The corners of his mouth curled up. "If I don't mind? You've already said it. You think your sister is acting strangely, but what do you think my family think of my behaviour? You're worried that she loves me more than I love her and that I'll break her heart, aren't you?"

Marie-Celeste nodded.

"Does that mean," he asked cautiously, "that I shouldn't be worried that she loves me less than I love her?"

Anna did not ask him to stay, not wanting to disturb the concentration of a man in competition. She would see him again on Thursday. Tomorrow, he and Patrick would play doubles, but she did not think it was wise to attend all of his matches all of a sudden. Besides, she needed a day to catch up with the paperwork and the job.

There were always boring meetings to go with the procedures, negotiations about the exact phrasing of the statements and the like.

The press had got wind of it now too and they remained in attendance outside the Palace and the Parliament buildings. She could not go from one to the other without being photographed, but the nearer she came to the end of her reign, the less Anna minded. It would only be a little while longer now.

There had been quite a lot in the papers about the day before. If Seton had merely beaten a seeded player there would not have been half so much attention devoted to him, but all of his smiles and his visit to Anna's box before the match had increased his information value considerably. They praised his attitude and though nobody believed that Anna had urged him to pull down his trousers lower, they all liked him for saying it and for not revealing what she had said. It would after all be ungentlemanlike to reveal the Queen's private words.

They had even liked Anna -- for lending cachet to the tournament, for sitting through three matches and for showing she could laugh. But her behaviour was discussed in more detail on the society pages, although there they were not so much interested in the fact that she had watched tennis as in the fact that she had seemed to like John Seton.

Her mother never read anything but the society pages and Anna was sorry that the whole episode was described there. She would have no peace until her mother had grilled her on the subject. Fortunately, her mother and her aunts had not been up yet when she had had breakfast, so she had escaped them quite nicely. Only Celeste had been there with her and she had spelt out all the articles, concluding that whatever they were doing, they had certainly known how to stage their first meeting.

The reporters barely moved aside when she arrived at the Parliament that afternoon, so eager were they to catch a glimpse or a word. Anna usually looked straight ahead or at the ground when she was being led through crowds.

"No tennis today, Anna?" someone called out.

She was startled and looked up to find the face that belonged to the speaker, but she did not know where. The speaker repeated his question and she focused his eyes on him, slowing her pace so suddenly that Marie-Celeste following her collided with her. The man had said Anna and that was why he had caught her attention. It was hard to block out someone who was calling your name. Sports and politics was a rather strange combination. Surely the reporters would all be specialised in one of those fields and not in both?

"Was Mr. Seton at the Palace last night? Did he dine with you?"

Marie-Celeste was always quicker to reply than Anna. If they asked, then they knew. What did they want? If she denied it, they would assume that something was going on, but that would be just a little too quick. "What does this have to do with politics? We dined with four relatives," Marie-Celeste said indifferently. And it was more or less true. They were either relatives or future relatives of Anna's -- thank God that Patrick would not be her brother-in-law, but he would be Anna's. Anna certainly seemed to have a serious intention to make him that.

Anna smiled. Celeste had not said anything last night. She wished she would have, because then she would have known if Celeste approved of her choice, but if she now called him a relative, then surely it would mean she accepted him. She looked particularly mischievous when she realised that Celeste had classed Patrick among her relatives.

Thalen, who was a bit of a coward at heart, had received Seton's resignation. Apart from that, he had received word that Malling had returned from his holiday and that Raine had demanded an internal inquiry. Internal inquiries were tough. His actions would not pass a close scrutiny, he knew.

He had seen Seton was out playing tennis as if nothing had happened, but he could not count him out. The PM had told him Anna was a softy who could not take any decisions herself, so this meant that Seton was pulling some or all of the Queen's strings and he probably had a firm hand in her decision to dismiss the Prime Minister. He had followed the news very closely, to see whether he would publicly be nailed and he could only be glad that they had not come out with the truth yet. For some reason Seton had chosen to play it another way, but even he could see that if the PM persisted in his stubbornness, Seton might very well tell Anna to come clean with the story. They were keeping in touch; that was evident from the pictures in the paper. Seton was a cool customer to use a tennis match to instruct the Queen on how to handle next.

However, Thalen reflected, if he informed the PM about this alliance, the PM would order him to get rid of Seton and that was something he did not want to do. The PM had got him into enough trouble as it was. He was the one who had got his hands dirty while the PM was playing innocent. He broke out in sweat when he realised that he might very well be the next target on Seton's list. He had read that the Queen had met with the Minister of Home Affairs, who was technically his superior. She would only have done so if she had the intention to dismiss him as well. He had not yet heard from the Minister, but that would only be a matter of time. Her Majesty was not known to have friendly chats with politicians. She was not known to have friendly chats with anyone unless she was forced to. There must have been something powerful behind it. He wondered what Seton had threatened her with. But no, when he looked at the pictures, he decided that it was more likely that Seton had succeeded in wrapping the Queen around his little finger so she would do exactly what he told her to do.

Perhaps an honourable resignation was the only option.

It had always been a known fact that the Setons had double passports, but since they had always played for the wrong country and there were other players to focus on, they had never received much attention from the national press. However, with the current lack of national tennis pride, they were generously adopted as fellow countrymen, who due to some juvenile lack of insight had opted to play for Great-Britain and not for their mother's country. The press was quite ready to forgive them for it.

Because there were no other matches of national interest going on, the television broadcast concentrated on Seton & Seton versus two Czechs with unpronounceable names. The Czechs had never played together and they were no match for the two brothers. It was a rather boring game to look at and at 5-0 the commentators switched to gossip.

"They are both playing very well this week, aren't they?" one commentator said.

"Ahh, but he won't smile so much now, he told me this morning. He was bothered by too many schoolgirls yesterday!" said the other. "And he doesn't like all that attention."

"Hoo, no wonder Rizzi was so irritated. Not only was he beaten, but he also lost his fans, poor guy! He also said the referee had rigged the match to please the Queen."

"Ha ha! But we shouldn't be surprised at that, really. He's a notoriously bad loser -- always pointing his finger at others instead of himself. Chakka!" The Czech service was broken once again. "He got fined for cursing on court."

"Did he now? He got fined a few tournaments ago too. The best is yet to come: he also said that the Queen was being unfair by lending Seton her masseuse."

"Her masseuse?"

"Yeah. Oh, 5-1, do you think they're being nice to the Czechs?"

"Nah, they are never nice to their opponents. Just because John smiled yesterday doesn't suddenly make him compassionate. I used to play against him in my younger days and you could never count on him to lose his nerve in the tiebreak. What about the masseuse? Was that before or after the match?"

"Oh, after -- 30-0. Geez, are they in a hurry or what? I wouldn't want to get hit by one of their balls! Oh, excellent return!"

"But what happened with the masseuse?"

"The rumour goes that she lent him her masseuse and that he went to the Palace to get a massage."

"Oh right. And my name is Mickey Mouse. That's just about as likely."

In such a crisis, Anna could not escape a close questioning of her reasons and motivations. Parliament had already asked the Prime Minister why she wanted to dismiss him, but he was good at rhetoric and had trained as a lawyer, so he kept evading the real question. Now they had asked Anna to explain herself. It was only logical, since she might be insane -- she would not be the first insane monarch in history. Anna had once discovered a web-site that listed all crazy monarchs. It would have been amusing had she not known that she could trace her lineage back to a few of those listed.

As yet she had not told anyone she wanted to resign herself. They would take her much less seriously if they knew that. The two politicians she had told the truth would not talk -- she hoped -- because she had assured them they would lose her support if they did. They would have less incentive to stay silent if they knew the Queen was on her way out too.

The Chairman of the Chamber bade her welcome and spoke some introductory words and then Anna was invited to speak. Her fingers trembled as she adjusted the microphone to her height -- the chairman was a very short man -- trying to delay speaking for as long as possible. All the familiar nervousness about speaking to an audience returned and she could barely breathe. "I want to dismiss the Prime Minister because he has shown disregard for my safety and disrespect for my person, while it is his job to ensure the safety of the Queen and not to endanger her life." Someone else might have made much more of it, but Anna never used many words, nor did she ever use any strongly emotional language. It all came out rather flatly.

Naturally there were questions. "Is there no better way than to dismiss the Prime Minister, Madam?" asked a Member of Parliament. "Perhaps you should get more protection."

"No!" Anna said vehemently. Now that she had reached a stage in her life when too much protection would seriously hinder her personal life, she was not going to accept an extra bodyguard. "Protection can be bribed."

"Your Majesty, I'm afraid I cannot take your notions as anything other than delusional," said the Prime Minister.

Anna stared at him. Was he calling her mad? She shook her head slightly in incredulity. She was not mad. He was the one who was not normal.

"Bribed, indeed! Who would bribe them? Are they not selected especially? They are supposed to be above bribes, but how would you know that they can be bribed if you did not bribe them yourself?"

The hall gasped. Anna shook her head a little faster now. She was still stunned. "How dare you say something like that?" she cried.

"Because I have evidence, Madam, that you were behind your own abduction in a desperate attempt to gain sympathy. You bribed your bodyguards, you took a little holiday, you faked a video message, and then you returned smiling as if nothing had happened --"

But Anna did not hear any more. There was a buzzing and whirring in her ears. With a shattering crash her glass hit the platform when she swept it off the desk. She opened her mouth, but no sound would come. The mix of such strong emotions as anger and shock was too much for Anna, her body collapsed and fell, with a thud when her head hit the floor. The hall gasped even louder now and people started to run forwards.

Marie-Celeste had been as stunned as Anna. Only now did she find her voice. "Anna!" she cried. She really wanted to do something to the Prime Minister, but she could not do it when Anna was lying there. Dead? Alive? Unconscious?

I apologise for MC's language (@$#$) -- she is of course an otherwise very civilised person, so I doubted whether she should say it, but I guess she was livid. It should strong enough to express anger, but not strong enough to be vulgar. (And it could not be written out, because I know Jimmy bleeps it). Well, as long as you don't think MC has suddenly turned into a fishwife. ;)

Marie-Celeste was not the first to reach Anna, but she was the first to kneel down beside her. Anna's eyes were closed. Her fall had not been hard enough to do much harm, but Marie-Celeste wondered if she might have a concussion. She had never seen anyone faint before and she did not know what to do.

Everyone wanted to see the fallen queen up close. A man pushed his way through the crowd that had gathered. "I used to be a GP," he announced, kneeling beside Marie-Celeste. He quickly examined Anna. "Any medical problems that could cause fainting?"

"Nothing but that lying @$#$ of a Keller," Marie-Celeste said viciously. She did not care that half of the bystanders heard her.

"She'll come to in a minute. I don't know how hard she hit her head, though. She might have a headache."

"Can we take her away from here?"

"She might be able to walk."

The PM was looking rather smug and Marie-Celeste glared at him. "Are you proud of yourself, you liar?" she called out furiously. "As if anyone would believe you!"

"As if anyone would fall for this show," he countered, gesturing at Anna's motionless body with an expression of contempt. "Isn't that a sign of guilt?"

"You'll pay for this." She returned her attention to Anna, who opened her eyes and moaned.

"My head!"

The ex-GP looked concerned. "Does your head hurt, Madam?"

"Ohh," Anna blinked. "Yes."

"A lot or a little?"

"Hmmm?" Anna tried to sit up, but fell back when she felt dizzy and nauseous.

The doctor supported her head so she could not hit it again. "What do you feel, Madam?"

"I feel nothing," Anna said flatly. "Empty. Numb. Cold."

Marie-Celeste took Anna's hand. "Are you paralysed?" she asked anxiously.

"No. Crushed. How could he --"

"Don't think about it," Marie-Celeste said reassuringly. "Not now. He's not worth it. Nobody will believe him. Nobody will think that you did that."

The doctor had caught her wince when she had tried to sit up. "You should go home and lie down." She seemed genuinely upset at the PM's words and it had been a heavy accusation. He understood how it could have been a blow to someone. It was impossible that it was true. Anna would have been too cool to faint if she had really had the nerve to fake her own abduction. It took a different sort of person, not at all this woman with her bewildered brown eyes. She looked completely lost. Anna would have disliked to know it, but she inspired a lot of sympathy when she looked devastated. "Take her home," he advised Marie-Celeste. "And call her doctor to examine her properly."

"There is no grain of dishonesty in Anna," she said pleadingly. "Believe me."

"I believe you."

"Anna, can you walk?" she asked.

"No," Anna moaned.

"You'll be carried," she beckoned the men that had accompanied them. "Get a stretcher. I hope he's not of your party," she said to the doctor.

He hesitated. "Actually, he is, but that doesn't mean I'll support him in this."

"I don't care anymore," said Anna. "I can't take this much evil."

Anna was taken to the hospital, examined closely and put to bed there just in case. She had not spoken another word, because it hurt her head and it made her dizzy to think. Marie-Celeste sat wondering what to do. Anna could not defend herself now and even if she could, it would be tough. Perhaps they should just let the PM spread his unbelievable story and expose himself as a liar. Who would believe him? Who could have misinterpreted Anna's reaction? Who could think that she had enough acting skills to fake a shock and faint? She wondered if she should speak on Anna's behalf, but her sister might not like it.

Her mother was having a fit about Anna's condition, which she ascribed to the day before. Marie-Celeste guessed that most of her mother's grievances originated in the fact that Anna was now unavailable for questioning. "Who is this man Anna was in the papers with, Celeste? Should I be worried?"

"Mama, you should be worried about Anna's head."

"Did she fall on her head yesterday already? Was she hit by a tennis ball?"

"Anna needs rest. Either you shouldn't talk so much or you should go away." She saw that Anna had her eyes closed, but that she was not asleep. The nurse had given her some aspirin but apparently it did not work yet. The doctor had prescribed bed rest for as long as she kept having a headache and then another day of rest just to be sure. Anna had slipped into apathy and she had undergone all the tests very passively. Marie-Celeste was not certain whether this had been caused by the PM's blow or by the fall. The doctor had said that it was not too bad, but Anna looked as if she had lost all hope of recovery. She was furious herself, but she did not know how Anna felt. Anna said she felt nothing, but to Marie-Celeste this was incomprehensible. Anna should at least feel like murdering the PM.

Her phone went off when she was just outside the hospital. It was Nathalie. She had almost forgotten about her. "What happened? I'm hearing conflicting accounts," Nathalie asked.

"The PM accused Anna of having faked her own kidnapping and then she fainted. She's got a headache now -- a very mild concussion. Have you heard whether anyone believes him?"

"Some do, but I shouldn't be worried about them. What should I write? I know it's not true, but I thought I should consult you first before I write too much. I like your sister," Nathalie sighed. "I hate secrecy, but you know how it is."

"I don't know what Anna wants to reveal," Marie-Celeste said uncertainly, remembering Anna's blank stare. "She's not well at the moment. She was devastated. She thinks everyone will believe him."

"Oh come on," said Nathalie. "They won't. I've spoken to a few who definitely don't believe him. They think he should be dismissed for accusing her. They saw her reaction and they know she was completely taken aback. Something has to be written though, before he gets the chance to polish up his story. I wish I could ask Pierre how far he'll allow me to go, but I don't have his number."

"I don't have his number either."

"Anna has his number."

"How do you know?"

"I heard him say that one of the others put it into her organiser. Could you give it to me?"

"I'm going to have to call you back for that. I'm outside." Marie-Celeste went back inside and looked it up. She glanced at her sister, who was following her actions with her eyes. "How are you?"

"Headache."

"Try to sleep, Anna. It will be alright in the morning." She referred as much to Anna's head as to the crisis.

"No, it won't." Anna's tone was soft and despairing. Although it hurt her head to think, she could not help it. She knew he could twist the story and she also knew how lame a denial from her would come across and she could not defend herself more than lamely, without the support of her four rescuers. And she would not have their support, with Seton gone back to being John, and Raine, Gris and Hegge back to being Thomas. They would not suddenly step forward. But maybe she could not avoid it. She would have to chose between them and herself.

"Should I stay?" Marie-Celeste asked.

"No need."

"Bye Anna. I'll see you again in the morning," she said reassuringly. Marie-Celeste went back outside to call. Nathalie offered to email her the article when she was done, which she accepted gratefully.

Hegge shook his head when he saw the news. They had not considered this possibility at all and he wondered what could be done about it. It was too late to get rid of the Prime Minister in an unobtrusive way now that he had stuck out his neck. It seemed to him that someone ought to stand up for Anna and tell the truth. Anna's words would not carry as much weight now. No, it had to be done by someone of whom it was clear that it was not in his interest to speak up. Someone such as himself. Nobody knew him. It could not be Seton. Seton was too well known now. He should not have gone to play tennis right after it, the idiot.

He phoned Nathalie's newspaper and announced himself as someone who knew the true story behind Anna's kidnapping. Of course they did not take him seriously right away; he had not counted on that either, but he remained patient. "You must have heard what the PM said. Well, I know it's the other way around. It was him who ordered her abduction, not Anna herself. Why do you think she fainted? Because she knows damn well how he did it, only she didn't expect him to twist it around like that. Can you imagine that? I can tell you the whole story, but I insist on remaining anonymous."

"Any nutcase can say that," said the editor dryly.

"True, but you might want to verify the story with the Palace. I'll give you a number and you tell whoever answers that I put my number in her organiser and then she'll know who I am."

"One moment."

"That's okay," said Hegge. "I'll wait."

After a few minutes the voice returned. "Okay, she didn't know you, but she said you were speaking the truth. Can we make a deal?"

Anna heard footsteps coming down the hall. Her room was at the end of a corridor and she could always hear them coming. Up till now, it had been people she did not want to see and she closed her eyes already to feign sleep. It was probably some excited doctor again, for visiting hours would long be over. At least, her family seemed to think visiting hours were over. The last one had left an hour ago and the screaming child that had been accompanying people to a room somewhere down the corridor had also left half an hour ago. She had told Celeste that there was no need to stay, but a hospital was dreadfully lonely when your head hurt too much to sleep.

The footsteps paused briefly at the door, where two bodyguards were seated, but then they entered. It was quite silly to have them sit there when they let any person in a white coat pass, Anna reflected morosely. Anyone who wanted to do something to her only had to put on a white coat and he would be able to do it. As if it was necessary to give nature a hand in killing her -- the number of doctors that had come to see her had been amazing, so she must really be in bad health. That most had come out of curiosity was something Anna did not know. She certainly would not go and visit a patient just to see what kind of pyjamas she was wearing or to see how pale she looked.

The person approached her bed, slowly, but then as he stopped she could not hear what else he was doing and it frightened her a little. What if he was taking out a big knife? Or a syringe? But no, she could not hear anything and the person softly kissed her forehead. "Good folk, Anna," he said gently, moving his chair forward so he could lean onto the bed. "It's alright to open your eyes."

Anna felt guilty, immensely guilty, for her suspicious thoughts and she opened her eyes with a sob. She stretched out her arms and he got up from his chair to sit on the edge of the bed so he could hug her, and then she cried.

Back

Next  

Back To Novel Idea