Anna looked around her in the small room that was to be her home for the time being. It was small, but she would not be in her room much. The surroundings were beautiful and the grey stones of the buildings exuded peace and rest. It was only a very small castle, but she would be able to sit in the courtyard and the vegetable garden for hours if the weather permitted it. The snow had melted and the world looked brown and dark green again.

Her room only contained a few pieces of furniture. A bed, a table and chairs and a closet, all made of wood. There was a small bookcase for books. She packed her belongings away and went back downstairs, glancing curiously at the other doors. Were there more bedrooms? She decided to ask Eduard. "Are there more bedrooms?"

"Didn't you like your room?" he asked quickly.

"I liked it, but I just wondered what the other doors were."

"They're also bedrooms, but I thought the furniture wouldn't be to your liking. It's rather dark and heavy." He looked at her in concern, afraid that she did not like the arrangements.

Anna smiled. He did his best to make her feel at home. "I like the lighter wood."

"I hope you won't feel bored here."

"No, I see you have a lot of books," she assured him. It remained to be seen if any would be to her liking, but there were so many of them that there had to be a few she could read.

"I can take you into town whenever you want," he said. "The library, the swimming pool, the shops… Now that you're here, I have nothing to do at the Palace."

"Maybe I shouldn't go into town," Anna said hesitantly. "Do you think people would recognise me?"

"Not if you look like that," he said, eyeing her critically. Not with a ponytail and jeans.

"Oh, good. I didn't know you had such a lovely house," she remarked in surprise, staring around herself. She had never even wondered about it and she realised that she had never wondered about anybody's houses or private lives. That was quite shameful and she coloured. She did not even know if he was married or not. It looked as if he lived here alone and he had not mentioned a wife. "I n-n-never…" she stuttered awkwardly. "…w-w-wondered how you m-m-might live and with whom. There are a lot of things that I've never seen before. I learnt a lot in the past two weeks. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Eduard said kindly.

"But my…perspective…was so narrow."

"Sometimes a rough shake can be good."

"I think it helped that they weren't deferential to me," Anna mused. "They were only nice."

He could guess which occasion and which people she meant. "Do you mean they treated you normally?"

She nodded. "Yes, like one of them. Maybe I'm romanticising the whole thing too much, but it was so nice to be away with friends."

"One of whom you liked particularly well."

"How do you know?" she asked immediately. "I never told you that."

"He told me, when I asked him how he had come into contact with you. I found out he knew those other people and it had never seemed very plausible to me that you met John at the tennis tournament. Both of you would have had other things on your mind. He would have been a strange tennis player if he had been picking up women ten minutes before his match. And you…" Eduard paused. "Well, it just didn't seem likely to me."

"But it does seem likely that I should have begun to like him at my summer house?"

"Yes. Much more likely."

"I don't know why people wonder."

Eduard could not say it without saying too much, so he shrugged. "It's what people like to do." There would be a time when he could explain, perhaps, but that would depend on Eliane. He should ask Anna if she wanted to see her mother. "About your mother…"

"Is she coming?"

"No, she isn't. She didn't think it would be safe, but she knows you are here, of course. I phoned her."

"Maybe if you could arrange a safe meeting…" Anna said in hesitation. "But how many people will know that I'm here? Just my mother?"

"Yes."

"Not John?"

"I don't know where he is."

"He had a tournament." She realised that she had no idea where the tournament was actually taking place.

"Where?"

"I don't know. We didn't get around to that point," Anna confessed in embarrassment. "We did talk about it, but it was more about whether he should go or not and if I wasn't angry because he hadn't told me that he had to leave and he forgot to say and I forgot to ask where it was that he had to go. Actually, he never got an answer to his question," she frowned. "Because when we woke up, there was the commotion about the bomb. I suppose he went all the same, then."

"I think so too. I can call him, if you want. I hope they're not tapping his phone."

"Do you think he will be worried?"

"Yes, I think so."

Marie-Celeste paid remarkably little attention to facial expressions and nuances in people's tones, Patrick noticed when she accepted unquestionably Eliane's obvious lie. No wonder she had not noticed that he did not hate her. She was completely insensitive to the whole undercurrent of emotions that accompanied a statement. For a while he wondered why on earth she did not see such things, but then he accepted that she did not and began to wonder about Eliane's words.

Eliane said she did not know where Anna was. She had emphatically denied knowing it. Patrick was not fooled. He suspected that she knew it very well, but that for some reason she did not want to tell Marie-Celeste. What would Marie-Celeste do with the information? Perhaps that would pose a problem. In all of her efficiency, Marie-Celeste would perhaps unwittingly allude to the fact that she knew. The corners of his mouth turned up and he placed a kiss on her cheek.

It took Marie-Celeste by surprise, because she had been thinking of how to put pressure on Malling and the Commissioner to get them to find Anna instead of leisurely going around telling her that they had lost Anna. "What?" she cried to Patrick.

He grinned and dragged her into a niche. Life was improving now that he could limp without crutches again. "Let me tell you a secret."

"There is a lackey down the corridor!" she hissed.

"Well, good! That's why I pulled you into a niche, sweetheart."

Actually, Marie-Celeste did not care very much what the lackey thought of them now that she was in the niche.

"Whoa…" Patrick said in amusement. "I meant what I said…I wanted to tell you something, not kiss you."

"Well, what?" she asked impatiently.

"Your mother knows where Anna is."

"How do you know?"

"I just know." He held her back when she moved as if she wanted to leave the niche to ask her mother. "No, don't. She's got her reasons for not telling you."

Marie-Celeste was hurt. "Why? I'd never tell anybody."

Patrick pulled her onto the wooden seat in the niche and put an arm around her. "I know." He now had to convince her that her mother had been right not to tell her, which was perhaps even more difficult than convincing her that he loved her.

John was out of the tournament fairly quickly -- he had got used to being beaten early on and the week before had merely been an exception. He did not like it, although he was glad that he could return home. The flight home took far too long and when he had to change planes, he strolled around a little. There was no hurry, because it would take another while. He bought a drink and sat down to check his phone. Among others, he had missed a call from a number he did not know.

He called the number and discovered that it was the Count's.

Could you go to a public phone and call again? The Count asked.

Thinking that it might have to do with Anna, John obeyed, although he had no idea how the man could be connected to Anna at this moment. She had been taken to France.

"Charles de Gaulle. On my way back."

"15:35. Why are you calling me?"

Anna! It could only be Anna who wanted to know where he was and whose name could not be mentioned. John's heart beat faster. "Have you -- have you spoken to her?" he asked quickly.

John lowered his phone in disappointment. Why had the Count not said more? And how could he have spoken to Anna? There had been nothing in the papers about a return. Had she returned in secret? He wanted to go home that instant, but he would have to exercise a little more patience.

The Commissioner decided not to tell Malling about his talk with Eliane. He thought she was a sympathetic woman, and really, if the Royals thought they could handle things better, then they should. They would have a considerable expertise in moving about incognito, something that he had not yet considered. Perhaps he should not worry if Eliane had put her expert on the case -- the middle-aged man -- and clearly she knew how to keep a secret, because Marie-Celeste did not know anything.

He concentrated on the reports on his desk. A great part of the force was concentrating on Anna's case and they produced so many reports that he could barely keep up. It was a good thing that he had meetings with some of his subordinates. That was quicker than reading all of the reports.

He had also had a Chief Inspector in with a St Schmidt, who claimed that a certain Frey was posing as Seton. Not really knowing what to reply, he had said that there certainly was a great resemblance, but that the men were two different people. He hoped that this had satisfied Schmidt.

Then there was an embassy demanding extra police officers to guard a hotel, as if there was not a shortage already. He really could not spare the manpower for that and he passed on his apologies, explaining that the entire force was working on urgent cases of national importance.

They had made a few arrests, but not yet caught any big fish. Nevertheless, he hoped that Anna would be safer now, considering that the ones they had arrested had been responsible for carrying out all the criminal actions so far. Now they would only have to find out a link to the brains behind it.

Mrs. Seton glanced over the covers of the magazines in the supermarket. She had taken to doing so after her sons had become interesting material for the tabloids. As she looked through them, she became agitated by yet another ludicrous article. This time it was about a woman who claimed to have had a child by John fifteen years ago. She showed it to her husband, who only laughed. "Fifteen years ago? He didn't even know how yet!"

"But they shouldn't be allowed to print this!"

"We could sue for libel," he said indifferently. "And they'll place a rectification in the next issue, but it won't make a difference. Nobody is going to believe this article anyway. It's absurd! But I'll have our lawyer demand a settlement," he soothed his wife.

The two mothers joined up for a shopping expedition. After all, if one of their children did not obey their wishes, then certainly the other would, they reasoned as they inspected prams and baby beds. "Do you think we need one?" Mrs. Seton asked.

"We?"

"In case they come to stay. I think I'll need one."

Eliane looked a bit sad. "Then I'll never need one, non? If we live in the same building."

"Do you have to live at the Palace? How old are you?" Mrs. Seton asked curiously. That Eliane was younger was obvious, but she could not be very much younger. "Now that your youngest is almost eighteen, you may get rid of them all at once."

"I'm fifty-three. Get rid of them?" Eliane said, slightly alarmed.

"Out of your house, not out of your life. When your job is finished, you can start looking after yourself. It's just you then. You don't even have a husband to make your life difficult," Mrs. Seton said, although her husband did not make her life difficult at all.

"Yes, I do -- even if he's dead."

Somehow it did not sound as if it was grief that was holding Eliane back, Mrs. Seton noted, but something else was. "He can't stop you from enjoying yourself. You can do what you like. Or are you worried about public opinion?"

"Yes."

"Why? I'm sure everybody would understand if you took a trip around the world or if some widower took a liking to you. You're only fifty-three. You were very young when you had Anna."

"Yes. Too young."

Something was plaguing her companion, Mrs. Seton noticed. "It might be easier if you talked to somebody about it," she said kindly.

Eliane gave her a furtive glance. "No, I can't. They would think differently of me if I did." But the secret was beginning to be too much for her and she realised she would have to talk to somebody soon, a disinterested party who would be able to give her some advice. "I made a mistake in the past."

Mrs. Seton changed the subject when she sensed that Eliane did not want to talk about it yet. "Have you heard from Anna yet?"

"Yes."

"Where is she?"

"With her father," Eliane said with a bitter chuckle. There. She had said it and skipped the whole introductory explanation. It was a relief, but she feigned an interest in a shirt to hide her relief, although she barely saw what she was looking at. She would not even be able to tell its colour.

This stunned Mrs. Seton and she did not speak for several moments. Eliane could not mean that Anna was in heaven with Alexander, or something like that. Anna could not be dead. Eliane would have said so before and she could not be so heartless as not to care at all. What did she mean?

"I knew you'd be shocked."

"Is she dead?"

"Dead?" This puzzled Eliane. "What do you mean?"

"Her father is dead."

"No, Anna is with him."

"Eliane! You can't just say that and not explain!" Mrs. Seton exclaimed with huge eyes when Eliane walked on calmly to inspect another rack of clothing. She almost dragged her off to a place where they could have a quiet drink. "Tell me!"

Eliane took off her bracelets and put them on again thoughtfully. "Promise me you won't think about Anna any differently after I tell you." She continued when the other woman nodded. "I was about to become engaged when I -- how do you say it? -- fell in love with another person. What can I say? I wasn't strong enough to fight and I didn't even know if it was worth a fight, so I did nothing and I got married. He went away and I had Anna and I never told anyone she wasn't Alexander's. Only he and I knew, not even Alexander. Then I didn't see him for more than fifteen years, but when he returned I was married and we never talked about it, until Anna disappeared. We have come a little closer now," she said wistfully.

The mysterious lover had to have been an inmate of the Palace and possibly a family member. In a flash a few things fell into place and she had a strong suspicion of his identity. "He's a nice man," Mrs. Seton remarked.

Eliane lifted her head sharply. "Rina, how do you know who it is?"

"Isn't it so that you named your daughters after their grandmothers?"

"Y-Y-Yes." She was completely amazed.

"I like puzzles," Mrs. Seton said by way of explanation with a triumphant look in her eyes. "I had been wondering about that one ever since I looked up the family tree in the encyclopaedia."

A voice called John from behind him as he walked through the airport and he turned. At first he could not locate the person who had called, but suddenly he saw that it was Charles-Louis. "Louis?" he said in astonishment, looking even more astonished at Louis' companion.

Charles-Louis beamed and was eager to introduce her. "This is Larissa."

"Larissa?" John was still stunned. "Where did you…?" He did not understand it. Charles-Louis was gay. He could not possibly have a Larissa.

"The Ukraine."

Larissa had no interest in John and stared at passers-by, grasping Louis' coat with one hand.

"The Ukraine?" John repeated.

"What do you think of her?" Louis asked proudly. "Isn't she cute?"

"Yeah…" John looked at Larissa. He had to admit that she was pretty, even though he would probably have agreed more if she had been his. They walked on together and Charles-Louis explained where he had got Larissa and why, rendering the whole situation a little more comprehensible to John. It all made sense now and reassured Louis, who was not entirely confident that people's reactions would be positive. "I'm happy for you, Louis."

Louis' phone rang when they walked towards the exit with their luggage and he asked John to look after Larissa for a minute. John took over the baby seemingly expertly with one arm -- although he could not claim any expertise and it was merely a lucky grip -- while Louis answered his phone and he pushed the trolley through the sliding doors to the arrival area.

Eduard had never seen two people look more amazed than Anna and John when they saw each other -- he had not expected to see her and she had not expected to see him with a baby. If Eduard had not known all about Charles-Louis' plans, he would have been surprised too, but now he merely looked amused at the surprised stares that went back and forth.

Louis had ended his call and John was quick to hand Larissa back to him so he could hug Anna. He forgot about the luggage and he concentrated on Anna.

They also forgot the other people, who found this reunion infinitely more interesting than the arrivals they were waiting for. Some had recognised him and consequently also recognised Anna, but the two only had eyes for each other. It did not go unnoticed by the crowd that Anna wiped her eyes and that John smiled, and apart from a few misanthropes and cynics, they were all affected. Anna was supposed to be abroad and somehow she had come back for something that meant a lot to her. They appreciated that -- even if it was not them she had come for, it would be possible to step forward and touch her if they wanted. She must be trusting them.

"Anna?" Eduard tugged at her sleeve. "Shall we go?"

Anna placed her arm around John's waist. "Can we take him home?" she pleaded softly. She had not greeted him nearly enough, in her opinion, and she was not ready to be separated from him again so soon and to lose this wonderful feeling she had now.

"That's what we came for," Eduard smiled at her anxious face. John looked serious, but the way he had his arm around her indicated that he was probably just as anxious. He took over the trolley, pushing it towards the exit. They should leave before they attracted too much attention. There were already people beginning to remember that they could use the cameras they had brought to capture Anna and not the relatives they had meant to take photographs of.

"Louis!" Anna looked at him. "What's that?" she pointed at the baby. She really did not understand what he was doing with a baby. Actually, she did not understand what he was doing at the airport either. He had gone to Kiev. But maybe this feeling of happiness was making her mind twirl, just like it was making her body twirl and compelling her to hold on to John so she would not fall.

"Beat you to it, na na na na na!" Charles-Louis pulled at face at her. He came to walk on her other side and lowered his voice. "We adopted Larissa. Are you shocked now?"

"So this is my new niece?" Anna smiled at the baby. "Oh, she's adorable! How could I ever be shocked?" She leant towards him in walking and kissed his cheek. "Idiot! Congratulations, cousin." It relieved him, she saw, and she placed her free arm around his waist so that she was now walking between Louis and John.

The Count quickly led them past the shops, through the main entrance hall, winding his way through the groups of people. John looked around himself, but most travellers were looking lost in the huge space and they were concentrating harder on figuring out where to go than on who passed them. Anna had let go of her companions when it turned out that walking was made awkward by it and the Count surely appreciated a fast pace by the looks of it. John noticed that Anna sped up obediently out of habit.

The car was parked at the front, where it could be parked for a short time only. This was good -- it was not likely that anybody following them would have his car there as well. They drove away on the motorway, but left it at the first exit, seeking out empty country lanes where pursuers would be spotted quickly.

Not even Anna could distract John from keeping an eye out. He relaxed when he realised the Count's manoeuvre. Unconsciously he had been tense and worried. Sitting in the front passenger seat, he caught a meaningful look from the Count, who had noticed his fidgeting and his incessant glancing in the mirrors.

"We aren't all ignorant."

John gave him a guilty grin. "So I see."

"We're not being followed. This route takes a bit longer, but it's quiet."

He saw that. There were barely any cars on the roads. They were not going in the direction of the capital and he wondered where they were headed. His sense of direction abandoned him after seemingly endless country roads and it was only from the odd signpost that he got a vague idea of where they were.

Finally the Count pulled up outside a small castle -- the one that went with his title, presumably. It took John by surprise, because he had been listening to Anna ask Charles-Louis why he had not told her about the whole thing. "Sweetie, don't be absurd. You would've adopted her yourself," said Charles-Louis. John thought it was probably true, judging by the delight Anna had displayed upon seeing little Larissa.

"Why do you defend my mother?" asked Marie-Celeste, who had been convinced, but who did not like to admit defeat so quickly. "Shouldn't you take my side in this issue?"

"Why should I?" Patrick asked.

"Because -- I -- well, you're coming to this New Year's Ball with me."

"I'll take your side in any issues at the ball," he promised. "I've never been to a ball before."

"Can you dance at all?" she wondered out loud.

"No, darling. But you'll be leading anyway, won't you?" he said indifferently and then grinned at the look of absolute horror that appeared on her face.

"You…cannot…dance?" Marie-Celeste asked slowly, frantically thinking whether there was still enough time to give him dancing lessons. She could not possibly appear at a ball with a partner who could not dance.

"I'm not Superman. There are some things I can't do. But Cellie…it will be absolutely clear that you took me because you like me and not because you needed a dancing partner."

"You really don't care that you can't dance, do you?" Marie-Celeste was still horrified.

"People will like you for it."

"People will like me because I take you?" she asked skeptically.

"People will like me because I go with you without complaining about your attitude. Might think me a loser, though," Patrick reflected.

"Yes, because you can't dance."

"They might not even notice. What if I monopolise you all night?"

"How?"

"Oh Cellie! If I start kissing you before the dancing begins…" he teased.

"You can't keep me interested in that all night," she challenged.

"Darling, it's in your own interest or people will see that I can't dance."

"I don't know why I'm even talking to you," Marie-Celeste complained. "And who keeps letting you into the Palace all the time?"

"There was a girl who gave me a remote control for the gates. She thought it was convenient if she had a man to summon if she needed one."

"Go home! I don't know who you're talking about."

"No, you probably forgot -- your memory seems unreliable. At that at such a young age!" Patrick grinned suddenly when an idea struck him. "I can't go home. Did you forget that we're married too?" he asked seriously.

Marie-Celeste was about to protest, but she realised that he would only get what he wanted if she did that. "Married?" she repeated in a confused voice, as if she had really forgotten it.

"I live here."

"No, you don't."

"Please don't make me cry, Cellie," his voice sounded heartbroken. "Please don't tell me you forgot. You knew this morning."

"Where are your clothes?"

"Don't tell me your eyes are getting worse too! I'm wearing them…here, feel it." Patrick placed her hand on his sleeve.

"The closets!" Marie-Celeste gasped with difficulty. She rather liked acting. "You don't have any closets here."

"Should I? I'm wearing all I have."

"I could never be married to someone with only one set of clothes!"

"I'm sorry, but you are," Patrick said sympathetically. "I know it's shocking to hear that." They were standing in one of the hallways and he ran away when her fists hammered onto his arm. "Get me if you can!" he said pesteringly.

"Uncle Eduard said Aunt Eliane would be a kind of aunt if I asked her. Do you think she would, Anna? If Larissa needs one?" Charles-Louis asked earnestly. His mother could not play a double role as grandmother and aunt; and in any case he feared she would be too indulgent -- grannies usually were.

"I'm sure she would."

John frowned. "I know Aunt Eliane, but who's Uncle Eduard? Or are there two Eliane's? Your mother and this Eduard's wife?" Uncle Eduard obviously had some say in what Aunt Eliane would do.

"It's him!" Charles-Louis pointed at the Count.

That was news to John. "Really? I'm sorry I didn't know that." It explained why both Anna and Charles-Louis were on friendly terms with him and why Anna was with him, although he had merely been professional last week, when they had gone to the school. He would already have been her uncle then, so that was odd. John glanced at the three of them to see if they looked alike.

"It doesn't matter," Eduard replied. He saw what could have given John the wrong impression and he saw he had to be careful. The younger man was studying him closely, but apparently he had not caught on yet.

"I've never come across a more incomprehensible family," John remarked finally. "I thought you worked for her. I distinctly heard you call her Madam last week. I shouldn't be surprised if all the lackeys are impoverished cousins. That Palace is a madhouse."

Patrick still had a little trouble running with his ankle and he stumbled. Marie-Celeste flung herself at him in an instant. "Ha," she snickered, making the two of them crash into and through an antique sofa. There was a sharp crack as one of the legs of the sofa broke and the whole structure sagged, depositing Patrick and Marie-Celeste in an inelegant heap on the carpet.

"He's gone," an agent reported. He had been keeping an eye on the Prime Minister.

"Gone?" Malling asked sharply.

"He was picked up by a rental car and we lost it on the way to the airport. We're now checking passenger lists to see where he's gone, but it's going to be very difficult if he's travelling under an assumed name or on a private plane."

"Are there any private planes scheduled to leave?"

"Yes, a few. They're not obliged to say who's on board if they're flying out. We have to rely on their goodwill. One of them has already taken off -- some Sultan. How far should we go in contacting the airports the private planes claim to be going to?"

"Just make a note of it," Malling decided. "I'm going to have to think about that." He had to contact Anna for that and it was damn inconvenient that she had disappeared. Perhaps her sister could take decisions in her absence. If Marie-Celeste or Anna said no persecution, they would just leave it at that and be glad that the PM was out of the way. Perhaps she did not want more trouble and scandals.

"And by the way, you'll never guess who was at the airport."

"Don't tease me."

"Queen Anna."

"At the airport?" Malling cried. "Doing what?" Arriving? Departing? Kicking the PM out?

"She was with Seton. I saw them leave."

This meant she was or had been in the country and it would make it a little easier to contact her, even if he did not know where she was now. Presumably she was with Seton. He shook his head at the woman. Why could she not be good and stay in hiding? "Did she come to pick Seton up?"

"Well, he had arrived from somewhere and I don't know where she came from."

"Okay, go on checking those lists," said Malling, who had new food for thought. He hung up and dialled Seton's home number, but there was no response. Then he tried the mobile number, but the phone had been switched off. "Grrr!" he looked at his watch. Her Majesty would be used to having her way and he did not doubt that Seton's phone was off because of her. However, he did not care if they were otherwise engaged -- he needed to contact her and he asked for a trace on Seton's and Anna's phones.

Fifteen minutes later he was called back and he was told that Anna's phone was in the vicinity of the Palace -- so probably in it -- and that Seton's phone was in the neighbourhood of a small town called Messange. It looked as if Anna had not yet picked up her phone and there was a good chance that she was actually also near Messange. He had heard that place name before in the past few days, but he forgot when. While he tried to remember, he called Seton again, only to find that the phone was still off.

On the internet he discovered that there had been Counts of Messange in history, which rang a bell with him, because had there not been a count at the Palace? When trying to locate an elusive queen it was too much of a coincidence to find a count in the area where she was supposed to be, especially if she employed one and how many counts were there in all? Malling had no idea, but he had never met any others. So Seton was with the Count and Anna too and the Count was a middle-aged man. Yes, it all fit.

Now if Seton would just switch on his phone and assist him in making progress in the case, instead of assisting Anna in making progress in romance, then he would be satisfied. Malling looked up the Count's address and phone number, which was not all that difficult for someone who had access to a great many databases, only time-consuming.

"This is Malling. I need to speak to Her Majesty."

"I'm sorry. You've dialled the wrong number, I think," the Count answered pleasantly. "Perhaps you could try the Palace. I've heard it's her residence."

How did one address a count? "My Lord --" He had to be respectful, he supposed. "I know Seton is there."

"Who?"

"Oh, come on! You and I spoke with each other last week. You know who Seton is and you've got him or his phone -- I had it traced."

"To here?"

"To somewhere near you, but where else --"

"Near me? So not necessarily here."

"You've probably got Anna there as well."

"You make it sound as if they are goods in my refrigerator," the Count protested. "I don't have anyone."

"It's urgent." Malling wished the man would co-operate. "I have to talk to her. If she's not there, then please tell me where I can find her. This is important enough to interrupt anything romantic she might have going on with Seton. I need her to tell me if she wants the PM to be pursued, wherever he has fled to, or if she'd think it good riddance."

"I shall think about that," the Count replied seriously.

Malling heaved a sigh of relief. That could only mean that Anna was there. "Shall I call you back? How long do you think it will take you?"

"Not long. A few minutes at the very most."

"Good. I'll call you back in five minutes."

Eduard looked at Anna. "That was for you. Malling traced John's phone. He wants to know if you want the Prime Minister to be caught, because he's fled the country, or if you prefer to just be rid of him."

John wondered how Malling had known that Anna was with him. He saw that he had missed two calls from him, but that would not have told Malling anything about Anna's whereabouts.

"How does he know I'm here?" Anna asked.

"We'll ask him in five minutes, but I guess you were seen at the airport. What will you answer to his question?" Eduard asked.

"I need more information. Was that all he told you? That he's fled? Where to?"

"He didn't say. It's only important if you say he has to go after Keller."

"Oh." Anna thought and looked at John, but he was playing with his phone. "What do I do?"

John gave her a quick glance and then yawned. "You know what you want." She did and she did not need him to tell her.

"I want it to end. Will it end if we let him go unpunished?"

"Make a diagram," he said, refusing to meet her stare. In the presence of someone else especially he did not want to seem to be influencing her.

"Is gone really gone?"

"After External Operations have been at him, it will be," John remarked.

"What do you mean?"

"If gone isn't gone, EO will make sure he won't be up to any more mischief. Would he stop scheming if he's thrown in jail here?" He did not know if the man would bear Anna any grudges for that.

Eduard observed the two. They were both thinking, one desperate for input from the other, who was reluctant to give it. Perhaps that was because he was with them.

Malling called back. "Have you thought about it?" he asked.

"Some more particulars would be helpful," Eduard answered. "For instance -- do you know where he has gone?"

"No, I don't, but I'll find out if you think Her Majesty wants to know."

"Ahh, so you don't know," Eduard repeated for the benefit of Anna and John. "I think she'll just be glad to be rid of him." He raised his eyebrows questioningly at Anna, who looked at John uncertainly, but he was deliberately looking the other way, so she nudged him. "Oh!" Eduard said involuntarily when John moved out of Anna's reach. He had to admit that he was with John on this one. Anna should not be so afraid of taking decisions on her own. He smiled at her encouragingly when she looked desolated.

"Yes," she said.

John moved back and promptly received another nudge.

"Pardon me, what did you say?" Eduard realised he had missed part of what Malling had said because he had been watching the display in front of him.

"I said that we shall let him go then."

"Forgive me for interfering, but I think it would be useful to know where he's gone just in case," said Eduard.

"But Her Majesty doesn't think it's important to know his location?"

Eduard noted that the couple's period of sensible behaviour seemed to be over. Apart from a lengthy hug at the airport they had not really behaved as lovers, but they had not been alone yet and perhaps they thought his attention was now solely on his phone call. Anna had just draped herself half over John. "I think Her Majesty thinks it more important to know somebody else's location." He saw that Anna looked sheepish and that she slid off John. He ended the call shortly after and looked at them. They were both looking at him guiltily as if they were children who had been caught doing something that was not allowed and they would stay that way all night. "I'm going to bed," he said, leaving it up to Anna to decide where John should sleep. He had no idea what they would prefer. "I'll see you tomorrow. Or not," in case John should go home.

"How do you come to be with him?" John asked, wanting to know that before they went to bed.

"My French uncle saw me and he called my mother to ask if it was really me and she told Eduard to collect me."

"What I still don't understand is how he can be related to you and work for you at the same time." He had not received an answer to that, only self-conscious looks, and it still puzzled him. Nobody had denied that the lackeys were distant cousins either, but he did not seriously wonder if that was true. Perhaps they had only smiled so self-consciously because he had offended them by calling the Palace a madhouse.

"Uhh…I don't really know," Anna confessed.

"You don't?"

"No."

"Why is he doing this for you?" Or for your mother? John asked silently. He had some suspicions, but he did not voice them. Perhaps they would only shock Anna. Eduard was concerned for Anna, but not the way he was himself. It was more fatherly, perhaps because he liked Eliane. Considering that Eliane was simply an older version of Anna, he understood Eduard perfectly well. If twenty years from now Anna would ask him to rescue her daughter, he would do it without hesitation. Hopefully it would also be his daughter, he thought, and then he remembered something. "Did you ever…"

"Ever what?" Anna had seen that he had been trying to answer his first question himself and she had not answered it, because she had no idea.

"Find out if you're…"

"If I'm what?"

"Well! You know…"

"No."

No what? No I don't know or no, I'm not pregnant? "Uhh…" John looked at a loss for words.

"You didn't help me out, so I won't help you out either. Say it, Seton."

He saw that Anna had the audacity to look amused when he was struggling to say it. It was difficult, so she should not be so hard on him, he thought helplessly. "Well…" he tried.

"If I found out if I'm well?" her eyes sparkled teasingly.

"No, if you're…" he did not know if he should sound eager, curious, indifferent, fearful, or something else. "…pregnant."

"I forgot to take the test with me," she answered. "But I'm either twelve days pregnant or not at all." She had calculated that in the car, when she had been looking at the baby.

"Twelve days!" he looked impressed. "Would you be able to see it?"

Anna laughed. "If you were able to see it after twelve days, how ballooned do you think I'd be after nine months?"

"How would I know?" John defended himself. "So you don't know it yet."

Anna looked into her diary. "Next week, unless I buy a new test tomorrow. Why do you want to know?" She had tried to infer from his tone, but that had been impossible.

"Why?" he exclaimed. "Because I don't know if you want to get married with a big belly, that's all. How big is the chance?"

Trust him to think of the details first! "Of you saying oh Anna how wonderful? Not a big chance," she replied. "Why are you worrying about maybe having to marry a whale?"

He saw she was not very serious, although it was true he did not say things were wonderful very often, or perhaps very seldom, but that did not mean that he did not ever think it. "I'm not, but I can't say how wonderful it is if I don't know it for certain, because if it isn't the case, then we'll both be disappointed. Wouldn't Eduard have -- Eduard!" he said eagerly when Eduard returned because he had forgotten something. "Would you have a pregnancy test lying around?"

"I used to think you were an intelligent chap, John," Eduard replied, looking at him strangely. "But maybe I should revise my opinion of you. What should I be doing with pregnancy tests? Or do you have a supply of pregnancy tests in your medicine cabinet along with painkillers and iodine, and you think them an indispensable asset for the unmarried man?"

"For Anna."

At least John had the decency to look flustered. Eduard focused his eyes on Anna, who looked rather embarrassed and who dared not meet his gaze. "I see." He felt a strange thrill at the prospect of Anna being pregnant, oddly enough, although he was also a little shocked. "And umm…" he coughed. "Do you need the test right now?" It was a quarter past nine in the evening. It was not as if pregnancy tests were readily available at that hour.

"Only if you have one you can spare," said John.

Anna closed her eyes and groaned. "John! I dearly hope it's negative if you continue to display such stupidity!" She was worried that Eduard would be disapproving, but he only seemed to be amused or appalled by John's stupid answers. She was not sure which of the two applied.

"You never know with some people. But I realise that tomorrow might have been a more convenient time to bring the subject up. When the shops are open."

"There is a night pharmacist in town," Eduard volunteered. "If you think you absolutely cannot sleep without the knowledge." Perhaps he was not trying to be helpful at all, he thought. Perhaps he would like to know it as well. He saw them look at each other and then turn their eager faces towards him as one. It was his turn to groan and close his eyes now. "I take it that you need the information this instant."

"John can drive me," said Anna.

"I don't think so," Eduard said decidedly. "He doesn't seem to function very well. Is he fit to drive? Besides, I fear that you will ruin the test on the way back."

They would not be interested in the result of a test if they did not suspect that it might be positive, Eduard reasoned, and despite the fact that it might be negative this time, it would undoubtedly be positive next time. "Have you thought about it?" he asked as he was driving the car.

"About what?" Anna asked.

"About whether you want children," he said in measured tones. He hoped that she had.

"Yes. A little. Thought and talked. Did you know that John can't say 'pregnant?'" Anna wrapped her arms around John from the backseat, half choking him.

"I can, but I suspect that I might have to say it too often in the future, so I'm going easy on it right now," John protested.

Anna could feel his cheeks were growing a little warmer and she smiled to herself.

John knew she was trying to find out if he was blushing. She must really find it adorable that he could not ask her certain things fluently. He did not think it was particularly adorable -- in fact, he thought it rather annoying, but he leant back to kiss her anyway.

"Umm…" Eduard cleared his throat. "You're blocking my view of the road behind us."

They pulled apart again until Eduard had left the car to purchase the test. It took him rather long, but they did not mind. There was enough to say about the past week.

"I'm sorry," Eduard apologised when he returned. "The Mayor was in there and I couldn't let him see what I came for -- I know him personally. He would have thought strange things about me."

"So men buying a pregnancy test are strange?" John asked.

"Not if they're known to have someone they're buying it for. Now listen. I bought two of them, much to the amusement of the woman behind the counter -- she assured me they were very user-friendly and almost impossible to mess up, but I don't trust the two of you much. I bought two, because it's an important thing to know, isn't it? I don't think the world is ready for an unmarried queen with a baby, so either you abdicate or you marry and you won't be in such a hurry to do either if you're not pregnant," Eduard sounded like the Count advising the Queen. "Furthermore, I heard from the Mayor that you have to give notice three weeks before your wedding."

The Queen paid close attention to his words. "Yes, but you may get special dispensation from the Queen to do it quicker if you're really desperate -- stress may, because she's not very generous with special dispensations. She always used to be of the opinion that people needed a few years to consider whether they were really suitable and she always thought three weeks very short, but now that she's experienced the three-day experience…"

"And who would you have to apply to?" John asked. It did not seem likely that she had to apply to herself.

"Parliament. They definitely wouldn't be able to reply in less than three weeks. Have you got any idea how long an antecedents research will take them?"

"Whose antecedents? Mine?"

"Yes. Plus that everything must be sent around via internal mail and so on. It will take ages before it gets to the right desk of someone who will turn out to be on holiday, you'll see. It's all pretty useless, I think, because you cannot be held accountable for what your forefathers did and I'm sure the living generations are absolutely clean. Oh, another thing," Anna remembered. "You don't belong to some obscure religion, do you?"

"No. None, in fact," John answered. "Why?"

"Well, because we can't marry in three places. I think two is already too much and I'd rather just do it in a town hall and I certainly don't want to have to go to yet another cathedral to get married according to your religion. Good! Would that make you an conscientious objector to a cathedral wedding?" she asked hopefully.

Anna was both thrilled and scared when she saw the outcome of the test. She fell down on the couch while the men inspected and double-checked the result. They had studied the instruction manual too, so they could not misinterpret it. She lay watching them, waiting until they would speak. She placed a hand on her stomach. There was something there now, according to the test, but of course she could not feel it yet. It would be odd if she could, since she had not felt anything in the preceding days either. Still, it was a little creepy, but also exciting.

"It would seem so," said Eduard.

John stood watching her uncertainly. He had no idea what people said in such a situation, but he supposed they would not feel the urge to ask the stupid questions that were on the tip of his tongue. Considering his earlier success he thought it best not to say anything until he could come up with something remotely intelligent. After a moment, however, he could not prevent himself from speaking anymore, realising the stupidity of the question. "Do you feel any different now?" Of course she could not be feeling any different from five minutes ago -- not physically, anyway.

"A little. I don't know what's going to happen."

John was awed by the fact that he had had something to do with it.

"Don't look like that," she said with a small, nervous giggle.

"Congratulations. Are you happy?" Eduard asked. For all their previous eagerness, they were very insecure and nervous now. It was good that nobody was recording their words, because they were not exactly holding a model conversation. She was hardly going to deny that she was happy. He did not want her to be unhappy. He was not unhappy with the news either, although he could never tell them why.

"Yes." Anna got up and put an arm around John, who was still looking awed. "And don't worry about him either, I think."

"I thought I had been sufficiently prepared," John said as he squeezed Anna. "But reality is always very different."

Eduard had not been prepared at all. "I'm not even completely used to the fact that she's got you," he remarked, fearing that he was coming across as very tactless, but unable to come up with anything else. "How can you be used to that yourself?"

"Your answer is on the table," John said dryly, indicating the test. "We're not. At least, not twelve days ago." His brain was beginning to recover itself and he was able to think clearly once more, perhaps even more clearly than before. "A beginner's failures. You may be sure that I'll be very responsible from now on. You don't look too convinced and I realise that some of my remarks were rather stupid," he said to Eduard.

Eduard had been looking at Anna. He would not be able to kiss her and thank her for making him a future grandfather. Suddenly he felt sad about that. Perhaps he would never get to see his grandchild and the chances of that lessened if she chose to abdicate. He turned his attention back to John and to what he had said. "It has nothing to do with you."

Then why does he look as if he's not sure he can trust Anna to me? John wondered. No, as if he's going to lose Anna. Rather odd feelings for someone who was only taking care of her because he was doing her mother a favour. Why would he be doing Eliane a favour? He pulled Anna in front of him and let her lean against him. That way she would not be able to see what he was thinking as he stared at Eduard, trying to imagine what he would feel if Anna's daughter -- not his own -- would tell him she was pregnant. He did not think he would feel anything, unless she was his own. He stiffened, but prevented Anna from turning her head to look up at him when she noticed. She would want to know why he looked the way he undoubtedly did.

"You understand me, don't you?" Eduard asked resignedly.

John nodded stupidly. It explained Eduard's behaviour perfectly. Something about that had always been nagging him, but it was very logical now. He laughed in relief that Eduard was not a rival.

"I'm still here," Anna protested when she noticed that something went on over her head.

"If you weren't here, we shouldn't be either," John replied.

"What's wrong?" She was afraid that Eduard did not approve of John.

"Nothing is wrong," he assured her and then frowned questioningly at Eduard, nodding down at Anna. Did Anna know?

Eduard shook his head.

So Anna did not know. John thought about it. Was she ever going to be told? Would Anna be angry if she found out that he knew and he had not told her? Anna accepted that nothing was wrong and leant back against him contentedly. However, this situation could not continue and he gently pushed her out into the hall, taking the phone with him. "Why don't you call your mother?" he suggested. It would give him the chance to talk to Eduard. He felt like a dreadful liar, not telling her about it. "She will want to know." He took care not to kiss her, because that would really make him deceitful. Fortunately Anna did not question him.

John closed the door behind him. "Whew. I won't ask you how, now that I've experienced how easy it is to get a queen pregnant," he said in a low voice so Anna would not hear him. "And once is enough." He studied the other man for a resemblance to Anna.

"Yes, once is enough," Eduard agreed guardedly. He did not know what he could expect of John -- disapproval, indifference or something else. "But she wasn't a queen -- not even a princess."

"By the looks of it, Anna isn't either," John replied readily. "Wow," he grinned when that sank in. "I was worried that she'd be angry if anyone told her about this, but if you put it that way, I think she'll be relieved. But who's going to tell her? I don't want her to find out that I knew. She might be angry with me for not telling her."

"I can't tell her without Eliane's permission," Eduard said quietly. "I'll tell Eliane that you guessed. How did you?"

"I first guessed that you had a soft spot for Eliane, but I didn't think you'd be so protective of her daughter if she wasn't also yours, looking at me if you weren't quite sure if I'd take good care of her. And you do everything for her. You go to the pharmacist's in the middle of the night -- oh! but that wouldn't be completely for her, would it? I mean, you'd become a grandfather." John looked at him with interest. "I hadn't realised that. Congratulations." He shook Eduard's hand. "I really should call my parents when Anna is off the phone. Maybe my father could tell me what to do. I don't know how I come across, but I'm rather clueless about this sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?" Eduard asked. He was a little amused at that admission, because it was all too obvious that John was more than a little clueless at the moment. He was messing up his hair rather helplessly.

"Well, it's like you said -- I've barely got used to it myself. First I had to get used to the fact that she was the Queen, then when this wore off to the fact that she was my girlfriend, then when we came back to the fact that my girlfriend was the Queen, then to the fact that my girlfriend the Queen was pregnant, and then that my pregnant girlfriend is not really the Queen at all. Waaaahhh! Next thing will be --"

"-- that she's your pregnant wife, I daresay," Eduard said to reassure John that Anna would not become his pregnant ex-girlfriend.

"If she forgives me for not telling her," John said anxiously. "Or if she doesn't break down because she's not who she thinks she is. She's Anna -- that's all I care about. I don't care that her last name might have to be something else."

"It would remain the same," Eduard said gravely. "I knew this problem would arise sooner or later, so forgive me for staying relatively calm. It's not such a shock to me, though I know it will be shocking to Anna, probably. We have to wait for Eliane to do something."

Before John could call his mother on his mobile phone, Anna returned, looking a little puzzled. "Maman insisted on coming over. I don't understand. I don't need any extra attention yet."

The two men looked at each other hopefully. They were both reluctant to break the news to Anna and yet they could not rest quietly before it was done. Perhaps Eliane came over to tell Anna, although that would be far too convenient. They did not deserve such luck.

Eduard seemed to have forgotten his earlier intention to go to bed. The trip to the pharmacy and the subsequent events had brought his body in such a state of alertness that he could not possibly think of sleep. It was only made worse by Eliane's imminent arrival. Carefully he brushed a speck of dust off his black trousers as he considered how to greet her. He nearly always contemplated that carefully beforehand, lest he put his foot wrong. If they were alone it did not matter much, but it certainly did in company, especially in the present company. He glanced at John, who knew, but who also seemed to be more preoccupied with how to conceal from Anna that he knew. Perhaps John would not look at him and Eliane too closely and Anna had something else to think about too. But all this was useless thought, he realised, because he was hoping that Eliane would tell Anna exactly that what he was now hoping to conceal. Another speck of dust. He wondered how the room came to be so dusty when it was cleaned twice a week.

"I'd be too indulgent," Anna said fearfully all of a sudden, taking the two men by surprise. She saw they had no idea what she had been thinking. "Don't mind me," she mumbled.

"You wouldn't," said John when he caught on. "Are you indulgent with me?"

"Yes."

"No."

"No?" Anna asked doubtfully. "But you're not a child." She was more like a child than he was, with her head resting in his lap.

"All men are children, I've heard."

"Are you proud of that? To have all those mothers fussing over you?"

"There's fussing and fussing, darling."

Eduard observed that John advocated the non-fussy kind of fussing, but he stifled a smile when he noticed where John had his hand. If he wanted to feel the baby, he was a bit too soon and out of place. "Did you ever have biology, John?" he asked, nodding at the hand.

Anna laughed, because she had guessed that it was not exactly the right place -- a little too high -- although she could not say with certainty where it should be. "He can feel as much there as in the correct place." The location did not matter much to her either at this point, only the fact that he had pulled her shirt from her trousers to place his hand on her skin, which was nice.

Eduard jumped up when Eliane rang the bell. He had heard her car already, but he did not want to display too much eagerness. One look at Anna and John assured him that they would remain in place and he went to the door.

The light had gone on automatically when Eliane had approached and he saw her wait outside the second door, which was mostly glass. She looked impatient, but very beautiful. That always struck him, even though he had known her for so long. She did not try to look younger than she was, but she looked perfect. He could not let her wait out there for too long and he opened the door.

Eliane kissed him softly on the cheek, as she had begun to do the week before. It was a habit that she had had to unlearn when she had first come to the country, although those greetings had not really been kisses. Now she barely touched him with her lips, but he still felt it deeply, perhaps because she had so recently started doing it. It was not necessary to speak, so he said nothing.

"Where is Anna?" she asked, stressing the last syllable of the name as usual.

"In the living room," he answered and took her coat. No fur. That was good. He did not like fur.

Eliane waited until he had hung away her coat. "You don't look old enough, Edouard," she said. He would be a very fine-looking grandfather. If he was to walk with the grandchild, people would mistake him for the father.

He glanced at her, but there was not much light in the hall and he could not really read her expression. Her tone had been soft, however. "That didn't keep him from finding out," he said gravely, looking at her with his brown eyes. "He knows, but she does not."

Eliane looked like a tragic figure on a stage, pressing her hands against her chest and wrinkling her brow in concentration as she was thinking. "Will he tell her?" She had correctly deduced whom he was talking about and her shock had been quickly replaced by an attempt at pragmatic thinking.

"If you and I don't, he might."

"But if the news is not coming from me, it will be different," she realised and went into the living room. Anna looked up at her with a happy smile. Yes, obviously sharing the news with two men -- no matter how closely related -- could not beat sharing it with a woman who would really understand. Eliane blinked. Time had gone by so fast. She hugged her little girl. "Je suis si heureuse!"

"Maman! Ne pleurez-pas! T'a pas vieilli."

"Quand est-ce que ça se passera?"

"Huit mois et demi."

"Have you called your mother yet?" Eliane asked John, realising that there was somebody else who thought eight and a half months were much too long.

"Not yet."

"Do it!" she urged him. "We went shopping together today and I know she'll want to know."

John went into the hall to phone and Eduard went into the kitchen to get some drinks. Eliane waited for him to return. After all, they had been in it together. "Anna," she began and Anna looked at her curiously because of her serious tone. She had to plunge in now. There was no way of explaining her way out. "Eduard is your father."

Anna stared at her unbelievingly and looked from her to Eduard. Her father? He was her father? Why did they say this only now? Why had they kept this a secret? Why had he never said so? He must not care much for his daughter then and everyone obviously thought her incapable of handling anything difficult again. She was so sick of being sheltered. A silent anger filled her, but she kept her voice calm. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" If she was not so curious, she would run away.

"I didn't want to upset you," Eliane answered in despair. "I knew this would happen." She had not missed the tightening of Anna's jaw and that look in her eyes.

"Didn't you care that I'd want to know? It concerns me. You just didn't want to disrupt you own life." She avoided looking at Eduard.

"I have no excuse," said Eliane.

Anna fled the room when she saw that Eduard placed his hand over her mother's. She flung herself into John's arms and began to sob.

"Mum?" he said cautiously. "I think they told her."

"You know? How can you know?" Anna cried.

John rubbed her back. "His behaviour. Why aren't you glad that you've got a father now?"

Anna made a muffled sound of disagreement and incredulity.

"You didn't lose anything, but you gained a father."

"Please don't be so rational. I want to cry."

"Mum? What do I do?" John asked.

Anna groaned and sat down on the stairs to think it over, but it was impossible to think clearly. She felt left out and deceived -- by her own parents, on whom children should be able to depend for guidance. Children. That said quite enough. She was no longer a child. She no longer depended on them for guidance. Had they misguided her? They had not told her the truth, but would she have been better off with the truth? Anna's quick mind immediately saw the unworkable situation that would have arisen if they had told her sooner. Not only her mother's life would have been difficult, but also her own and at least she had been spared that until now.

Had her father -- Alexander -- known? What about Marie-Celeste and Alexandra? Whose children were they? She did not remember if Eduard had always been around, although it seemed so in her memory. Yes, he had paid her more attention that he had paid to Marie-Celeste, but she had always assumed that it had to do with the fact that she had been the Crown Princess. Many people paid special attention to her for that reason.

And not a word all those years from her mother. Nothing. And yet she must have known. She must always have known. One remembered. Anna hugged her knees and knew she would remember, although she had to admit that the memory was still fresh and not yet overshadowed by memories of other occasions. While she did not perfectly remember what had preceded it, she could distinctly remember the way John's eyes had seemed to change colour when he realised just what had happened and his very sweet "uh oh," which he would not think sweet, probably. It was impossible that her mother did not remember anything like that. Had she meant to tell her at all if the past few weeks had not happened?

How had it happened anyway? It was not that Anna could not see it happen in the first place, but the events afterwards were inexplicable. Had they fallen out of love? She would never fall out of love. She saw John look at her in concern. He had come to sit beside her, but she had barely noticed. Where had he put the phone? He did not have it anymore. She pressed her face against his shirt. "Don't ask your mummy what to do, ask me."

"Well, my mummy hung up on me." His mother had indeed ordered him to use his own imagination on Anna and perhaps he could, seeing that she was not hysterical.

"Good for her." She kept her face against his shirt because it was very comforting. "We can't depend too much on our mothers, you see, because they might one day tell you that they lied to you. However good their intentions probably were."

"Do you forgive her?" he asked.

"Do you?"

"I don't know what happened, but I'm inclined to see whatever it was as a means to an end. And with such an end as you I can't complain. I love you, Anna. And I don't care who your father is, as long as there's someone acting like your father, biologically related to you or not."

"What do you mean?"

"Well…going to France to pick you up and so on. If you'd have problems talking to your mother, why don't you talk to him?"

"I don't have problems." Anna looked up at him. "But if it's really true…I never knew and I never treated him properly…"

"Then you really should talk to him." John kissed her. "It's probably too easy for me -- all I see is a very neat solution. It's just as neat as matching Patrick to Marie-Celeste! Even if it weren't your father I'd suggest you to adopt him as such."

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