John was glad that he was wearing pyjamas, because Anna slept with the window open and it was rather cold in the room. They had got cold in the sitting room and they had retreated to the bedroom to snuggle under the covers. He could tell that this was one of the few places where she felt completely safe and at ease. She much more relaxed than even last week, when they had not been able to ignore the fear that there might be danger lurking outside, although he had thought her relaxed when they had shared a room then. There was no danger outside now. Perhaps outside the gates, but not within. Anna was all smiles and happiness. "I have to say it's a bit odd to think that I'm lying in bed with a queen," he said.

"I think we can both relax now that you've been accepted by my family," she remarked.

"Did they accept me? How do you know? They did not say anything and I think I'd have been rather offended if they had said so."

"Oh, I know they did. It was the way you answered their questions that endeared you to the younger ones and the way you treated me that endeared you to the older ones." Anna laughed when he blushed.

"Some of them were men, Anna. Don't tell me I endeared myself to men. What would you have done if they hadn't approved of me?"

"I would have chosen for you. How come you weren't already taken?"

"You have to want to be taken and I was determined never to be taken by anyone I met at a tennis court, because they'd either be more interested in what they could gain by marrying a tennis player," he said cynically, "or they'd play themselves and we'd see each other maybe twice a year; and I was never taken by anyone anywhere else, because I never came anywhere else more than once."

"I see what you mean," Anna said thoughtfully. "I had the same thing with aspiring jet set boys, more or less, although I think that when you were younger, you were a lot wilder than me and you probably have more reason to be cynical. I think that when you had your hair up in that strange way, you had your pick of girls."

"Yes. Although you get really bored after discovering that they're all the same, which of course wasn't until after a few. But because I was busy playing and studying at the same time I didn't have much time to meet any girls and it was spread out over a rather long period, so I didn't become wise until I was -- I don't know -- maybe twenty-seven."

Anna snickered.

"Oh, don't laugh. I was very sad at the time," he said humorously. "I was determined to reach the top ten, because every time they broke up with me, it was because they had cheated on me with a top ten player and it's ironic that you should want me when I've never ranked lower in my life."

"Poor darling," Anna comforted him. "I don't care about that ranking at all. I knew you had to have studied," she said triumphantly. "I had wondered about what you would be able to do if you retired, other than go about playing James Bond and so on, and I had figured you'd have to have had a decent education for them to hire you and I suppose your mother would have bugged you terribly if you hadn't gone to university."

"You're quite right about my mother," John smiled. "But I don't know what I want to do, so I just keep on playing until I stop winning enough money to support myself."

"I think carrying on with you is an excellent career move," Anna commented.

"For me?" He did not quite understand what she meant, unless she meant that she would support him financially, but then she should have said me and not you.

"No, for me. I've always wanted to clean out the International Olympic Committee, because its members are too old. By stepping down and marrying a sportsman, I'm making myself very eligible, don't you think?"

He looked at her in surprise. "I knew you had to have some ambitions, but I never guessed which ones."

"Oh, you thought I wanted a family?"

"Something like that…and I guessed you'd want something intelligent to do too."

"As if families are not intelligent work."

"I don't know. I've never had one," he replied readily. "I was thinking more along the lines of PhD's."

"Have you been talking to your mother?" Anna grinned. Mrs. Seton had indeed carefully suggested the possibility to her.

"No."

"Oh. Yes, that's an option too, like the other. Just so you know, they are vague…er…I'm not just -- I didn't just review all sports and players in search for a yummy specimen of roughly the same age to assist my Olympic committee aspirations, only reaching tennis -- the letter T is late in the alphabet -- at age thirty-two only. Heh! Don't worry."

"So I'm not a yummy specimen?" he asked sadly.

"You are! But I discovered you by chance and adjusted my view of the future afterwards."

"Does committee membership come in shared jobs as well?" he asked. "I don't particularly want to be a tennis instructor when I retire, because I'll retire when I stop liking it."

"Probably not yet, but it will if I can have a say in it. I want a few babies too, you know."

"A few? All at once?" John asked interestedly. "In the light of your aspirations it might be useful to have them all in one go."

"Darling, I'd never do that to you," she reassured him. "Now that I've seen how much trouble you have with one three-year old."

He laughed.

John woke in the morning when somebody entered the room. A maid closed the window and turned on the heating and then left as quietly as she had come. It was a quarter to seven. Anna got her room warmed up before she got out of bed -- it was quite amazing. He wondered if anyone would come to dress Anna too. Surely she was capable of that herself? But perhaps she had somebody to advise her what she should wear. Or was it Marie-Celeste who did that? He supposed she would not do it now. She had to know that he was here. Would the maid be shocked if she returned and saw him? He stretched himself out when he realised that he would probably not fall asleep anymore. A short while later Anna's alarm clock went off and she gave it a vicious slap.

"Whoa…" John said in amusement.

"Hey, you're awake too."

"You've got a maid to turn on your heating?"

"Yes. Did you see that?" she asked as if it was the most normal thing in the world to have that.

"I'm glad we were decent!"

"Oh, she wouldn't -- I mean, they've been trained not to look at the beds, I think, but in any case, well…I don't know. I've never had to think about that yet." Anna jumped out of bed energetically and pulled open the door to exchange a few words with someone outside.

"Who's out there?" John asked in surprise.

"The maid, in case I need her. I need more towels."

He sat down on a chair, looking baffled, and shook his head as if that would make all of this more normal. There was something preposterous about the maid having to sit there just in case Anna needed her.

There was a knock at the door and the maid entered with the towels. She handed them to him. "Your towels, sir."

"Thank you." He looked at her uncertainly. "I'm not supposed to tip you, am I?"

"No, sir."

"I don't understand anything of this place," he confessed.

The maid disappeared and he went into the bathroom where Anna was already busy getting herself ready. "You don't understand anything of this place?" she teased.

"It's absurd. It's like a ten-star hotel."

It was cold, so Anna chose to wear trousers again. She preferred them to skirts anyway, because she always twisted her ankles on high heels. But she looked just as smart as if she had been wearing a skirt. She took John downstairs to have breakfast. He had said that he preferred to get up with her, although he would have been free to stay in bed if he had wanted to, but the fact was that he had no idea what would happen if she left him there alone. There was no point in staying there without her and at least now she could tell him how he was to get out of this building. Perhaps if he tried on his own he would be arrested by security who thought he was a burglar.

Breakfast was in a special room, one with a television set. "So I can watch the breakfast news," said Anna. "It saves time."

There was also a newspaper and John read that.

"Ha, I read here that it's not unthinkable that you might fall prey to true love," he said. "How very kind of them to allow that possibility."

Anna got up and read over his shoulder. "Hmm…I think this was written before yesterday…flirting in public…"

"We did flirt in public."

"No, I flirted with a talking display," she reminded him. "Alexandra thought it was haunted," she giggled.

"Alexandra thinks you are dull," he said, expressing his doubt about the validity of Alexandra's thoughts.

Marie-Celeste woke up early and turned on the light to see what time it was. It was barely eight o'clock and far too early to get up. She looked at her companion and observed him. Patrick was sleeping on his stomach and his face was turned in her direction. She noticed how some locks of his hair fell over his forehead and how the end of it curled slightly. In peace, his face was rather attractive. Come to think of it, his body too, well, the parts that were not under the covers. He had been right that her mind was in the gutter. She was despicable. She began to recite poems to keep her mind on other things.

But it was impossible. She was hopelessly attracted to him.

"Patrick, marry me," she demanded as soon as his eyelids fluttered.

They flew open and his blue eyes stared at her in amazement. "Say that again?"

"M-M-Marry me." She was a fool to blurt out such stupid things without thinking. He did something to her that confused her.

He studied her carefully. "Do you want to take that back?" he proposed.

"Please."

"Consider it unheard," he said gallantly. "We wouldn't last half a day together without fighting." He crawled towards her and leant over her.

"Go away, Patrick." Maybe she had always been attracted to him, she mused. They had fought because he confused her.

"Say please."

"I'm not asking you for a favour. I'm telling you to go away." Marie-Celeste closed her eyes. He should either go away or kiss her, but not torment her like this.

"Marie-Celeste, marry me."

She did not reply. And now he was teasing her. What could she say when she had just retracted her own proposal? She did not know what he meant.

"We're ideally suited."

"Gahh!"

"Once you find yourself you'll know I'm right." He had thought she had made the connection, but it had obviously been a little too early. Even so, she was on the right track.

"Of course!" she said sarcastically. "Every woman who doesn't fall down at your feet is deluded, isn't she? It's never because you are the problem."

"I know I'm the problem," he grinned mischievously when he saw that her eyes were still closed. He turned his head and lowered his cheek onto her lips. "Please don't kiss me, Cellie."

She gasped and struggled to free herself from the confines of her sleeping bag, but he stretched himself out on top of her and rested his head on her shoulder. "How dare you!" she nudged him, but he did not move. Only her arms were free, but the rest of her body was immobilised. Perhaps she would frighten him away if she pretended that she loved him. Love was not the same as attraction. If she had loved him, she would not have been so confused, but attraction alone was bad. He seemed to be afraid of receiving proposals, given the speed at which he had asked her if she wanted to take it back and his own proposal was more a proof of his not caring for her at all. "I love you, Patrick." When he rolled off the sleeping bag, she zipped it open and sat up straight. "I'm odd," Marie-Celeste remarked when it did not feel as if she had told a lie. "I wonder what a psychologist would make of me."

"Someone who's confused by her attraction to me," he said quietly. "It was good that you met me."

She had been looking at his body, because he was only wearing shorts, but his words stunned her so that her eyes travelled up to his face. "Attraction?" she brought out.

"Unwanted, but undeniable." He grinned. Surely she had to know that she had been studying him extensively?

"And it was good that you met me? What do we do now?" she asked when he put his arms around her.

"I'm going to kiss you," said Patrick. He rejoiced inwardly that she did not deny or protest and he smiled broadly. "Don't tell me you don't know that the kiss comes after the embrace."

"I know that! But I meant when we're dressed?"

He groaned. "I don't care. Maybe we won't get dressed at all."

"But you're playing," she pointed out.

"What's all this nervous chatter?" he asked and kissed her softly. "You're not afraid of me, I hope."

"Not at all," Marie-Celeste answered and kissed him more wildly to illustrate her point.

"An alien force has been at work here," said John to the washing machine. Someone had hung up his bedclothes. It had not been one of his brothers, since they did not do each other that favour. They merely left the wet laundry on top of the machine. He opened the machine to see who had used it after him. Patrick. Not Patrick himself, definitely. He took his bedclothes upstairs and returned with the previous days' tennis clothes. He only had a few favourite shirts and if he did not get beaten today, he would need clean ones tomorrow. Bad luck for Patrick if he had meant to fill the machine with more clothes from the basket that stood waiting in front of the machine. He had missed his chance. John put in his clothes and found that there was still space. Why not be kind and add some of Patrick's clothes? It was such a waste to turn on a half empty machine. He personally became rather annoyed if another of James' girlfriends used the washing machine to wash just one shirt. James always seemed to seek out such unthinking and careless girls.

As he climbed the stairs he realised why that dark blue Mercedes with the special number plates came to be parked around the corner. That fact combined with the fact of his sheets having been hung up could only mean one thing and he was not at all surprised when he ran into the thing in question at the top of the stairs. "Hello Marie-Celeste," he said as if it was the most normal occurrence in the world to encounter her.

She was just leaving and she looked a little anxious for his reaction. "Hello," she said quickly.

He gave his sister-in-law a good-natured smile and continued his way up the stairs that led to his flat, leaving her to wonder what he was thinking. It did not concern him what she was doing here, though he would think about it, he would never ask her. He noticed she was staring after him in confusion when he turned to look back. "Thank you for hanging up my sheets," he called down.

"D-D-Don't mention it," she replied and quickly left the house before he could ask more. Why did he have to live in the same house? He would be thinking all sorts of things now, probably the same as what she suspected him of, and she had almost been tempted to tell him that she had kissed Patrick and nothing more, but as long as he might be thinking that she had only come this morning to do Patrick's laundry, it was safest not to say anything. Fortunately, Patrick had cleared the snow off her car when he had gone out to buy some bread. Even if John had seen the car, he would not know that it had been parked there since last night.

He did wonder about it, but he assumed that he would hear it from Patrick soon enough if there had been any progress. Perhaps they had not sorted it out yet. After all, this was no ordinary girl Patrick was pursuing. He would have to like to become a prince if he decided to marry her and Marie-Celeste would not step down as easily as Anna would. It was best not to interfere. He sat down and checked his email, something he had forgotten to do for a few days, what with the other things that had been on his mind. There was one from his father, sent the night before.

John laughed. Poor Dad! Dolly Poodle, also known as the woman who lived at number 16 with a poodle who was usually kept far away from his parents' dog and who was probably not even called Dolly, was someone you would not want to walk with. Another email from his father arrived just after he had read this one.

He laughed again.

He told himself that he ought to keep in mind that his father would never forgive them if he and Patrick got married on two different occasions and actually he would not like to be exposed on two occasions either. The brother of the bridegroom could never stay away, assuming that Patrick would marry Marie-Celeste, but why should he not?

"Was that your friend, Madam?" asked Eva when she and Anna were doing some work in the car. They had all seen John when they had assembled in the breakfast room before their departure.

"Yes. Did you think I'd have two of them?" answered Anna. "I suppose you read in the paper that I kissed someone yesterday too. It's one and the same person."

"Yes, we read that," said Eva with a smirk. "The Count and the Baroness were duly shocked, but they are in the other car, fortunately, so they cannot counsel you about it."

"I don't need any counselling," said Anna.

"I got a joke in my email," said the chauffeur. "And it made me think of you, Madam."

"Do I want to know?" she asked. "Is it bad?"

"No, it isn't bad."

"Well, then, amuse us."

"Alright. Once upon a time there lived a king. The king had a beautiful daughter, the princess. But there was a problem. Everything the princess touched would melt. No matter what, metal, wood, plastic-anything she touched would melt! Because of this, men were afraid of her. Nobody would dare marry her --"

"I never had that problem!" Anna squeaked in protest. "This made you think of me?"

"Well, I don't know any other princesses," the chauffeur defended himself. "Shall I stop?"

"No, I want to know the end of it now. Go on, George."

"The king despaired. What could he do to help his daughter? He consulted his wizards and magicians. One wizard told the king, 'If your daughter touches one thing that does not melt in her hands, she will be cured.' The king was overjoyed. The next day, he held a competition. Any man that could bring his daughter an object that would not melt would marry her and inherit the king's wealth. Three young princes took up the challenge. The first prince brought a very hard alloy of titanium. But alas, once the princess touched it, it melted. The prince went away sadly. The second prince brought a huge diamond, thinking that diamond is the hardest substance in the world and will not melt. But alas, once the princess touched it, it melted. He too went away disappointed. The third prince approached. He told the princess," George paused and cleared his throat. "'Put your hand in my pocket and feel what is in there.' The princess did as she was told, though she turned red."

"Don't stop there, George," Eva urged. "What's in his pocket?"

"She felt something hard. She held it in her hand. And it did not melt!!! The king was overjoyed. Everybody in the kingdom was overjoyed. And the third prince married the princess and they both lived happily ever after. Question: What was the object in the prince's trousers?"

"That's the end?" the bodyguard asked.

"Guess," said George. "I hope you're not going to fire me now, Madam, for telling such jokes."

"No, of course not." The average age in this car was perhaps thirty-three. They were young enough to stand such jokes. The average age in the other car was nearer to fifty. George should not have told it there.

"I think it's an ice cube," said the bodyguard after thinking very hard.

"An ice cube?" George asked. "How come?"

"Well, she melts everything that can't be melted, so what she can't melt is probably something that would normally melt."

They snorted. "Why would he have an ice cube in his pocket?"

"I have no idea what it could be," Anna said innocently. "Tell us."

Eva snickered. Anna had turned as red as the princess in the story. Of course she had no idea. "Come on, George. Tell. I'm sure it's not what I first thought of."

"And what was that?"

"Well, you can figure that out for yourself. It's probably what you first thought of when you read it."

George cleared his throat again. "They were M&M's, of course. They melt in your mouth, not in your hand. What were you thinking?"

They snorted again and Anna spent the rest of the trip wondering why the princess had turned red if she had felt M&M's. Unfortunately there was no satisfying answer to that.

They were only fifteen minutes late at the school. The programme had looked interesting to Anna, except perhaps the play that she was to start with, but it turned out to be very entertaining and fortunately she was not offered any biscuits or cake until after the play. If she did not always urge the Count, who was in charge of preparing her trips, to have the hosts limit their culinary offerings; she would grow very round. As she stood listening to the headmaster telling her about the school's performance over the past few years, he was approached by a woman who tapped him on the shoulder and who whispered something in his ear. His expression turned very grave immediately and from the quick glance he gave her she knew that the news had something to do with her and that it was not good.

What is it? Anna wanted to cry, but she kept silent. Her eyes followed the woman, who walked over to the Count, whose expression became very serious too. He always looked serious, but this overdid his normal expression, even. It spelt mortal danger. "Is something wrong?" she asked the headmaster in a tight voice.

"No, Madam," he said reassuringly.

Anna shook her head nervously. "I sense -- I know there is. Is it to do with me?"

"We don't know."

"But what is it?"

The headmaster exhaled. "We received a bomb alert."

It was as if she had received a slap in the face. Every time she got back to her feet, there was something else threatening her. "A bomb alert?" Anna repeated. "But then you should evacuate the school. What did they say?"

"That there was a bomb."

"Madam," said the Count. "I think it is vital that you leave the building."

"I know," Anna's hands trembled. "But…"

"The students will not notice," the headmaster assured her.

"Until they blow up," she said sarcastically. How could he say that the students would not notice? That was ridiculous. There were several hundreds of them. How could he allow several hundreds of children to stay in a building where there was a bomb? How could she leave if he did that? Her single life in return for three or four hundred? Their parents would agree with that swap for sure.

"I will order them to evacuate once you are out," he said, noticing her skepticism.

"What a relief."

"I don't want to create any panic. You know what would happen. They would run out in all directions and we'd lose track of who is where and if everyone left the building, because there are always a few who'd grab the opportunity to sneak off into town in the chaos."

Anna's lady in waiting, the Baroness, brought her coat. The students, who did not know the ins and outs of the programme, did not know what she was going to do, but they knew she would have to be here at the end of the day anyway. Any absence in between had probably been arranged, so they were not really curious.

The headmaster exchanged a few words with the deputy headmaster, who was to be in charge of the evacuation, pretending that it was a fire drill until all students would be safely out of the building. All classes would assemble on the playing field, where it would be decided on where they would go next, because it was too cold to keep the children waiting outside.

Anna let the Count talk with the headmaster about where they ought to go. She was too worried that there really was a bomb and that it would go off in the next few moments or when all the students were still in the school. She was so caught up in her own thoughts and fears that she would not even have been able to answer any questions.

A police car arrived and the policemen roped off the entrance to the school. The students would leave by the side entrance. Anna did not see what happened next, because the headmaster took them to a little café a short distance away where they would be safe. She was not entirely comfortable with that. It seemed such a coward act to hide in the warmth while all those children would be standing out in the cold. For a while she said nothing and stared at her coffee cup as she tried to imagine why anyone would place a bomb in the school. It had to be her. It was her fault. She swallowed. And she was here, safe and warm, while everyone else was freezing or in danger of being blown up. "Where are the students going?" she asked, interrupting the Count's flow of speech.

"The students will remain on the playing field," said the headmaster.

"Then either we go there as well or you get them to a warm place," she said decidedly.

He looked at her in alarm, because he had no intention of spending two or more hours out in the cold while police dogs searched for explosives. "Three hundred and fifty students, Madam?"

"Divide them up in smaller groups. Per class? That shouldn't be too difficult. I'm sure they'd love to sit in a café for a few hours. How many classes are there? Twelve or something like that? I'm sure you have twelve cafés or pubs in this town. This one for instance could easily accommodate a class." She looked around herself. "It's early. There won't be many customers."

He acquiesced, because he preferred to stay inside, and called the deputy. "The class teachers will decide on where they take their class," he said when he returned. "They have done a roll call so they know they have everyone."

"Are they all out then?" Anna asked.

"Yes."

That relieved her. It still did not relieve her to know that she was being threatened, but she more or less knew that already. She leant her face in her hands and thought about what she could do next. If there was one thing she could not do, it was break down. If there was no bomb, it would have been just to get her to break down and she would not bend. She had to stay strong, although it was difficult. Would John be playing already? She did not want him to hear this on the news and then wonder if she was safe or not. She had to tell him herself, so she took her phone and sat down at another table to talk in private. "I'm safe," she began. "But there was a bomb alert."

"I suppose they're going to look for the bomb now," she said calmly, but she felt she could not stay calm for much longer.

"In a café."

"But if there is no bomb I have to finish my visit," she choked.

"You don't think so?" she asked and rubbed her eyes. Life was so difficult sometimes. What should she choose? "I can't just run away, can I? Then he'd get what he wants, wouldn't he? He'd have succeeded."

"Yes."

"Yes," she sobbed.

Anna swallowed. "No, you go and play and don't think of it. Please? I'm alright. I just wanted to tell you that I'm alright. I didn't cry until I called. I was very calm."

Good girl, John said encouragingly.

"I don't think I'm in any danger. I mean, I could have been killed in a far easier way if he had really wanted to get rid of me. Bombs are more to scare people, aren't they?" She hoped she could convince herself of what she said. "But I mustn't show that it worked."

"You can't…"

"I don't want you to…"

"I hope so," she said, unconvinced.

Anna breathed haltingly. "Yes."

"No! You play. I'm alright."

I don't want to feel that I'm selfishly abandoning you, John said doubtfully.

"You're not. Go and play. I'm alright," she repeated, wiping her face dry with her sleeve. Unladylike, but she had no choice. Her paper tissue was already soaked. "I'll see you tonight."

"Yes!"

Anna's throat became constricted again. "I love you too," she croaked. "Bye." She cried for a while after she had hung up and then went to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face.

When she had got herself back in order, she returned to the others. They had been watching her with interest. To all, even the ones she was closer acquainted with, it had been a revelation to see her cry and they were a little subdued when she returned and sat down. They did not know what to say to her now. It would have been easier if she had not shown any emotions at all.

"Shall we continue our work, Eva?" she asked, her voice only a little bit unsteady. "This is an excellent opportunity." If they had not just seen her cry, they would have thought she was completely emotionless to suggest work at this moment. Her next words did even more to disprove that. "I'd rather spend the evening with my boyfriend than working," said Anna.

More than a few eyebrows were raised. "May I point out to you, Madam, that it's not very wise to say such things," said the Count warningly.

"But it's the truth," Anna said tersely, bent over one of the papers. "And it would hold true for any human being, so why should I be any different in that respect?"

"And it doesn't interfere with your work," Eva remarked. "You work much faster because you're anxious to finish."

"Thank you, Eva. And it's not a weakness, but a strength," she said to the Count. "But then you probably don't understand me, because you're man and you wouldn't know what a good man looked like."

The headmaster's ears burned and his eyes were bulging. The respectable Queen was talking like a lovesick fool.

"He drove me home on Friday, Madam," said George. "He's nice, if I may say so."

Anna smiled as if nothing could make her happier.

After John had spoken to Anna, he called Malling and asked him if he knew anything about the bomb. It turned out that he did not. Which means that it's either an idle threat or done by some group of which we don't know anything, said Malling.

"Well, I rather think you do," said John. "I think it's the PM trying to scare her."

"I don't know. He's crazy. Can't you get him for it?"

"I asked Hendrik to record T's phone calls. I don't know if he got anything useful. The PM might have phoned T. And even if you can't prove anything, just do something about him."

"Oh, great." John ran a hand through his hair. "So I've got them after me now?" As if his life was not tough enough at the moment. Troubles always came in threes.

"Thanks. So I'm safe? Or should I move in with my girlfriend permanently, behind the high and guarded gates of Parkview Palace, Home for the Elderly?"

"Never mind."

"Did anyone ask him to come and mediate at all or is he just butting in?" John asked suspiciously. "Next thing will be that he's booked himself a suite in the Palace as well."

"Shouldn't they negotiate with Anna?" He would call Anna. He was not sure she would like to have to entertain a president all day, but then perhaps it was just himself who would not like it if she had to entertain important visitors. "If I hadn't called you, she would never have known that she'd find that man in her home."

"Ridiculous," John commented. "They would force her to put him up? I'll call her to see if she's heard anything about it yet. Will you look into the bomb case or should I do that myself?"

I'll give it top priority, Malling assured him. But I thought you had resigned? It was just like Seton not to trust that anyone else could do the job properly. He would sign back on if he thought that would help. It was a pity that they had lost him, but that generally happened when marriage appeared on the horizon.

"I did, but not completely as long as Anna is not safe."

Anna was just arguing with the Count about the President when her phone rang. "Yes?" She was glad she could break off the discussion for a while, because she was getting frustrated that she could not speak freely due to the headmaster's presence and say that she absolutely did not want any high visitors staying with her at the moment.

"I just heard that too! How do you know that?"

Well, I called someone about that bomb, John said vaguely. Which he said he would investigate and he told me that the President was coming to mediate in the conflict between you and the Prime Minister.

"Conflict? There is no conflict. He has to go and that is it. There is no need to mediate, perhaps only about whether he'll be exiled or not. I have to go home now," Anna said. "I don't like the way they're forcing me to host a guest, besides, have you ever seen the security measures they insist on? I won't have it." She shot the Count a determined look. She had to go home. She did not want half the staff to be frisked upon arrival.

Will you tell the embassy to get him a hotel suite? John wondered.

"I'd prefer that, but I was told that it would be a political statement if I said so. He may come to stay, but on my terms. I don't think I'm particularly renowned for my hospitality, so I don't think I have to uphold some reputation. What do you think about it?"

The Count's eyebrows shot up. She was asking somebody for advice? Who was she speaking to?

"A dangerous lunatic? The fool! I suppose that's a reason to have him over," Anna said reluctantly. "So he can see that it isn't true."

"No, she's not there. I wish she was, because she's much better at being firm than I am --"

Oh, I don't know about that, John grinned. Unless you moderate your demands, I think you'll be a force to reckon with.

"But do you like that? Do you think I could get away with it?"

Anna frowned. "Yes, you're right about that. Thank you for that one. That's one argument in favour of a hotel suite."

He laughed. I don't suppose I'd have to suggest to you that you could make a table of pros and cons?

Her eyes sparkled. "Now that's a really good idea!"

John trusted that Anna would be able to handle the situation adequately. She had gained in confidence and she was not as likely to be overruled anymore. He was glad for it and went to look for his mother to give her his phone while he played, so that if Anna should call again, she would at least have someone she could talk to. "Mum, could you keep my phone with you when I play? If Anna calls…"

Mrs. Seton laughed. "I just read that Anna doesn't talk. And what she wearing Friday night?"

"A very nice dress."

"Transparent?"

"Well, it had a kind of netted split up to here," John said, indicating his upper thigh. "But there was a slip in the same colour under it now, so there really wasn't anything transparent about it. And it was netted at the shoulders, as if it were a sleeveless dress, seen from afar. It must have been cold, because she had a scarf."

His mother looked amazed that he was able to describe a dress. "It sounds like you inspected it very closely."

He grinned self-consciously. "Of course. If they have it in white, I don't mind if she gets married in it."

"Well, this article here calls it a sexy net dress." His mother gave him the article.

"Yes, it was rather sexy," he agreed.

Should Anna indeed remain serious about this relationship, we have to prepare ourselves for PRINCE JOHN. He is destined to become a good deal more popular than the taciturn Anna, who has never been known to utter anything spontaneous in public. However, the chances are that Anna is the same untalkative person in private as she is in public. It remains to be seen whether Seton would like to her declare her love in the robot-like way she delivers her speeches, but perhaps even more net and less dress will remedy this.

"Ugh," he said when he had read it. "Couldn't they have come up with another adjective beginning with S for the headline? I don't know how they come up with those nonsensical theories all the time. They make me sound like some idiot who only likes her if she shows any skin. Mum, why did you buy this magazine?"

"Don't you know that I always cut out articles that mention you?" she teased. "Where is she today?"

"She had to visit a school and there was a bomb alert. She's going home now because they want her to host a president in the Palace and she doesn't feel like it, so that's why I'm giving you the phone. She might call for some reason."

"Is she alright?" Mrs. Seton asked in concern.

"Yes."

"Poor girl. She's got too many problems at the moment," his mother shook her head pityingly. "Your father came up with a luminous idea last night, he thought, and it's really too bad that it's not practicable. He emailed you, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'd prefer to be there. You're my son, after all." Mrs. Seton kissed him. "No, go and play and I'll talk to your girl if she calls. I know you, so I'd know what you'd want to say."

Anna had expected the Palace to be crawling with men with guns and earplugs, but it turned out that she ought to be glad that she had ordered that nobody was to be allowed through the gates without her permission, the usual deliveries excepted. She was afraid of anyone whose intentions she was unsure of and she preferred to keep those outside of the gates. Upon her return, she was notified that a delegation from the embassy was negotiating with her chief of security in the small gatehouse. He had not dared to admit them, even though they were probably bona fide.

He came to her office as soon as he heard that she had returned. "What do they want?" Anna asked.

"They say that staying in the Palace is less of a security risk than staying at a hotel."

"But?" she sensed there was more.

"They insist on taking over." There was no other way to put it. "They want you to reduce the staff by at least fifty percent during the president's stay and everyone on the premises may be subjected to body searches at all times. Furthermore," he continued, but divined from the look on Anna's face that perhaps he had already said enough for her to make up her mind about it. "They require access to all rooms. All rooms." That would be including Anna's private apartments and also the private apartments of the other family members. It would certainly cause a riot.

Anna nearly burst out of her skin. "Never! Who do they think they are? I won't go along with that. People who work here have never done me any wrong. I don't want them to be treated like criminals all of a sudden. Tell the embassy so. And if they tone down, still tell them no, because I'm sure they'd be lying."

Her security chief looked relieved. He did not particularly like to be bypassed by foreigners and he knew he would not have any say in anything if they took over security matters. "I thought you'd say that."

"Of course! Let him go to a hotel!" She was silent for a minute as she thought. "I want you to stick to admitting only people on that list I made. Nobody else without my personal permission. I don't care about friends of other members of the family. There was a bomb threat today so I cannot be too careful. If my relatives have any friends that are not on the list, then those friends may be checked, especially if they've never been here before."

"Yes, Madam."

"I'm not sure why the President should want to talk to me, but he may do so by phone. I won't leave the Palace to meet him anywhere." Anna was suddenly reluctant to leave, seeing the outside world as a danger zone. She would be more comfortable if she stayed home.

"She won't have you," the embassy man said bluntly. "First we weren't allowed into the Palace and then she refused to go along with our security measures. She trusts her staff, says the top security guy, and it's clear that she doesn't trust us."

"Did you get to see her?" asked the President's personal assistant.

"Are you kidding? And if the President wants to talk to her, he may call her, because she's not leaving the Palace. Apparently there was a bomb threat today."

"Against her?" the President asked with interest.

"That hasn't been revealed yet, but it was at a school she was visiting, so we may assume that it was directed against her and not against one of the students."

The President did not need his advisors to know that this was a serious business. He did not like bomb threats either and fortunately he had not received any so far. He could understand her reluctance to leave. He would lock himself up too, with double the number of guards. "Do we have her phone number?"

"Yes, I got that."

"Then call her for me."

"Madam, it's the President," said Eva.

"That's quick. Put him through," Anna answered.

"Not so well." She waited until he would speak again. Phoning had never been her favourite pastime. She never knew what to say if she could not see the other person's face and gauge his mood, especially if she did not know him.

I understand that you received a bomb threat and that you would prefer me to stay in a hotel. He spoke as if the two were connected.

"Yes, I would. I object to your security measures."

"No. I don't know how you're feeling towards me. I've heard that you think that my friend is a dangerous lunatic. Perhaps you feel the need to save me from him. Perhaps your security men would feel the need to shoot him if they encounter him in the hallways."

Your friend? The President was slightly puzzled. Oh, the man you're said to be in love with, Your Majesty?

"Yes." Anna did not want to elaborate on the 'said to be' part. There would not be any use in that. He would simply think that she was heavily under John's influence -- a stupid, lovesick woman.

He was rather direct, in private. It made her wonder if he was alone. He probably was. The advisors would probably have urged him to use a little more diplomacy. But what could she reply to such a statement? She could only deny it, but how much weight would her words have? Probably nothing at all. "He's not dangerous."

Anna sighed. "He is not influencing me," she said tersely. "And you shouldn't interfere in matters when you obviously don't know what's going on. If the Prime Minister tries to have the ruling monarch kidnapped, isn't it my duty to dismiss him? I have the power to dismiss prime ministers who don't function, as they should. I could ask my secretary to fax you a report and I suggest that you read that before you take any further steps," Anna said abruptly. "Good day." She called for Eva and asked her to fax the report. It would be a waste of time to continue talking to him. An objective report would do much more to convince him. And since he had been alone and she had spoken so softly that the rest of the room had not overheard her, their conversation had been quite private and it would not matter that she had been rude. She hoped.

There was not much more that she could do now. The situation had taken less time than she had anticipated. Perhaps she should have stayed at the school, in case there was no bomb, but this had to be handled too and she could not go back anymore now. "Please give my apologies to the school and do you think they worked hard to prepare for my visit? Would they be disappointed if I didn't come back?"

"Of course they have worked hard," said the Count.

"Do you think I could go back tomorrow?"

"That is very odd." Which meant that it had never been done before.

Anna shrugged apologetically. "Oh."

"Madam," said one of her advisors. "It might be an excellent idea. People would appreciate you for it."

"I don't really want to be appreciated. I don't do something just to be appreciated."

"I'll take it up with the headmaster. They haven't found a bomb yet," said the Count. "It might be safe if they don't find anything." He was not so sure about it, but if Anna insisted, he would bend. He had to get used to this new determination and the fact that she would no longer automatically do what she was advised.

"What statement should the Information Service give out?" asked the IS man when there was a lull in the conversation. One always had to be quick to take advantage of that, because everyone always wanted to speak at once. Anna could not speak to them all separately, because some of their interests coincided. If she went to that school again, her publicity department needed to know. Everything she did would have an influence on something else. He kept in mind that he was not allowed to make up statements himself anymore. He would get into serious trouble if he did and he preferred not to find out how serious tat trouble would be.

Anna looked a little taken aback. She had not thought about that yet. There was so much to think about. "Say…umm…well, that it grieves me that schoolchildren should be the victims of any actions levelled at me."

He scribbled down the message. "Literally?"

"Yes, you may use it literally."

"Madam," said her PR advisor. "It's not certain whether the threat was aimed at you."

"If it was aimed at the school, why choose the day that I would be there?" she retorted. "If they did not want to harm me as well? It has to be me. Oh, and add that I'm really sorry that I should be the cause of their ruined day."

"You can't say that, Madam."

"Why not?"

"Because you're not the cause."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not."

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" Anna cried. "Just write it down!" She tapped her fingers on the table and considered whether she should say anything else. She had made a list of arguments against the President's stay and looked them over. Perhaps she should make a statement about that as well. "I think I should say something about the President. I regret…" she dictated and scribbled down a few sentences to try them out. "That I cannot offer him the hospitality that I would otherwise have offered him, but we are not a hotel and we cannot suddenly accommodate important guests in a satisfactory manner without lengthy negotiations and preparations in advance."

"In other words, don't invite yourself? That is rather rude, Madam."

"Isn't it rather rude to expect me to put up with him too?" she countered. "I don't care if people think that I'm rude." She looked at her notes again. "I appreciate the President's efforts to mediate," she dictated. "And I trust that once he has acquainted himself with the circumstances --"

"Implying that he doesn't know what's going on?" her political advisor interrupted incredulously. "He's got a staff of advisors."

"Who are either not informed themselves or they are not informing him correctly," said Anna. "I've heard that I'm under the influence of a dangerous lunatic. With all due respect, I don't believe they're very well informed."

"Who told you that?"

"The so-called dangerous lunatic himself. He was rather concerned about his safety, as you can well imagine. The ones of you who've seen him would agree with me that he is as far from being a lunatic as anyone in this room."

"I'm assuming that you mean your…hmm," said the Count, who did not really know which term to use for someone like that. The man had looked very respectable and reliable, but he did not know whether he was such a good choice for Anna. After all, he had very cheerfully said that he was going to take a bus home. A bus! The Count had been shocked, perhaps even more by this than by the fact that the man had presumably stayed the night. Young gentlemen of the upper classes tried out many things, but public transport was usually not one of them. How could a queen associate with someone who used public transport? It was quite unthinkable. Of course the matter of his staying the night, presumably not in a guestroom, was not very respectable, but it could have been obscured from the public if only the man had not been determined to take the bus that stopped right across the street from the front gates. To his suggestion that he take another bus around the corner, the young man had said something about not wanting to transfer that he had not really understood, but apparently people had to change buses sometimes. "I only saw him very briefly this morning, so I cannot vouch for him, but I wonder how he knows that he's being seen as a dangerous lunatic?"

Anna frowned. "Well, some of you might guess how he knows and the others will just have to accept that he has ways of finding out such things. I can't say much about it. But I believe I was in the middle of preparing a statement before we got distracted. And I trust that once he has acquainted himself with the circumstances," she repeated. "He will see that it is of the utmost importance to appoint a new prime minister --"

"And the Prime Minister will say the exact opposite," said the political advisor.

"I hadn't finished yet," said Anna. "And that we are perfectly capable of solving this problem by ourselves. Exit President."

"Do you want to include those last two words in your statement, Madam?" said the Information Service man.

She rolled her eyes. "No, but let me read what you have, in case you've included more of those asides."

"Yes, Madam. You'll receive a copy before it goes out."

"Excellent. Should I say something else?"

"The world would like to know if you are really having a relationship with that tennis player. That's what half the calls are about."

Anna sighed and stuck out her tongue in exasperation. "I thought the media agreed that I do? Why should I confirm something everyone already knows?"

"But Madam, everyone knows it's only speculation on the part of the media. They will not completely believe it until the Palace confirms it."

"Oh, as if that hasn't been confirmed enough already!" she exclaimed.

"But people will keep wondering as long as you are not officially engaged to him."

"I'm not going to get engaged just for the presents or the party. I don't want any presents and I don't like parties. And I believe that whatever we have is a thing between him and me," Anna blushed. "It's nobody's business whether we are engaged or not and how long or short it will be until we're married." She twisted her fingers. "It concerns nobody except our families and the people who work here, so that they won't be as surprised as the maid this morning when I asked for extra towels," she grinned in a slightly embarrassed way. "But he's not something like a new car that I can make statements about. Do you understand? You can't say the same as 'the Queen has a new car and she's going to drive in it,' or perhaps you'll let people figure out for themselves that I'm going to drive in it, because it's the obvious thing to do. You can't make such one-sided statements where there's another person concerned. If you say I've got a relationship, people will assume that I'll be engaged and then married, and they'll be waiting and pressing for the engagement. But what if I don't plan on doing either thing? I'm not saying that that's the case, but it might be. And the other complication is that people will automatically assume that he'll become Prince John and I might as well tell you right now that he doesn't want that. Do you see the complications? I can't say what will happen. It depends on several people and it's too early to say anything concrete about the outcome. What if I abdicate and Marie-Celeste says she doesn't want to succeed? You'll end up with Alexandra who's only seventeen or with a republic. Or I might stay on with a miserable husband, or we might fire half the staff and dispense with ceremony altogether, or I might invent a new construction which keeps the job and my private life strictly separate and whereby my husband is not automatically a member of the Royal Family and whereby he may keep his own life. The possibilities are endless."

The others had listened interestedly. The Count saw his suspicions confirmed. People who took buses were not likely to conform to ceremony. "Are you saying that it's out of the question that he'll ever be an ideal consort?" her PR advisor asked.

"I couldn't say that with absolute certainty, but I do know that you'd have a lot more explaining to do. About discharges from hospitals and the like." A smile spread across her face very slowly. "He thought I was being bothered too much, so he took me out of there."

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