"Where are they, Roger?" said the driver of the car. "Damn those one-way streets."

Roger looked out into the darkness. "And damn pedestrian streets. We might have to go on foot."

"Yeah, right. Don't think so. We'll catch them before they get to the house. Wasn't it a lucky thing that we got that interview with Paolo?"

"Yeah, who lives next door to you, Paolo? Oh, it's the Queen, I think, he says as if it's the most normal thing in the world. Shoo! As if he didn't know that everyone is dying for a picture of her and Seton. I thought we were so lucky when we saw all those cars. I hadn't expected her to be there, had you?"

"No. But we didn't get lucky yet, Roger. Rob is never going to forgive us for not getting a picture of her. Think about it -- we were only separated from her by a wall. We've never been so close! Too bad we had to go to bed." They had had quite a heavy party at Paolo's and they had decided to go back to Anna's house later, when she might be up, because when they had walked around the house they had not seen anybody. However, when they had returned it was nearly dark and nobody had come outside until the party had left for the restaurant. Roger and his mate had correctly deduced that they were going out for dinner and they had driven to town to await them. Roger had not been able to shoot any decent pictures yet. There always seemed to be other people in the way or the picture would seem too innocent. "Why doesn't she kiss him passionately in the middle of a square?"

Roger agreed. "That would be so much easier. It's never going to look like she's involved with the guy now. If we take a picture of her surrounded by eight men...I mean, nobody's going to take that seriously. We need action. He's there. Why don't they do anything? Yes, they talk, but that doesn't look very spectacular on a photo. And I wish they would signal in advance when they're going to look at each other. It's all too quick now."

"Maybe we should have stayed with Marie-Celeste."

"We only have one camera. If we had two, we could have split up. That's a thought for next time. But anyway, Marie-Celeste wasn't doing anything. What's the value of a picture of Marie-Celeste phoning?"

"Well, we could make up some story about her phoning her lover."

"Except that she had this other guy waiting for her," Roger pointed out. "They weren't doing anything either. It was the bodyguard. They don't seem to have brought a lot of protection. Think we should call Jo to ask how they usually travel? Jo's the expert."

"No, if we tell Jo, he's going to come here and send us home, when we were the ones who discovered that she's here. You know how Jo is -- he'll get all the credit. He'll say thank you and now get out of here."

"Slow down, Marcel. I can't see anything."

Marcel slowed down. "I'm not supposed to drive here and if we go slower, we're increasing our chances of being caught. How can you miss ten people?"

"Yeah, yeah. They have to be here somewhere if they took that shortcut. I really think we should get out of the car."

"Huh, so we can run after her and ask if she wants to pose?"

"Yeah. That's the idea. Besides, if they go into another alley again we can follow them."

Marcel narrowed his eyes. "That's an alley there. Do you think they went in there?" He backed up the car so they could look through the alley. Nothing was moving in the alley.

"What are we doing?" Anna asked nervously when she was pulled into the alley. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," John said cheerfully.

"Yes, there is! Why are we going in here? Are we being followed?" Her voice was rising to a panic. "By whom? Where?"

"I don't know if we're being followed. We're just taking a tourist route." But he pulled her along too quickly for it to be true.

Anna felt very afraid suddenly. It was not that she did not trust John to be able to protect her, but she began to regret that she had sent her bodyguard home. At least he would have had a gun and John did not have one anymore, she assumed. What if their pursuers had some evil intent? There had to be pursuers, even if she did not see them. It was not like John to do this without a good reason. She was nearly paralysed with fear and she stumbled when her legs refused to move.

John noticed that Anna had some trouble keeping up with him. As soon as he saw a suitable place, he pulled her aside. It was a staircase and he dragged her up, making her sit down on the highest step. He felt she was trembling and he placed an arm around her to comfort her. "It's alright now." Anna did not think so and she was much too afraid to reply, so she clung to him like a child. It filled him with anger towards the people who were doing this to her. "Let me go down and look."

"No!"

He gently disengaged his coat from her grip. "Only a peek around the corner." Softly he descended the steps and paused at the bottom, kneeling down peer out of the niche. There were two figures coming down the alley. They were approaching steadily and did not pause at every doorway to check it. As long as he and Anna stayed where they were and out of sight, they would be alright and the two figures would pass on through the alley. He climbed back up and pulled Anna against one of the doors, hoping that none of the residents would choose this particular moment to go out. They could not be seen now unless someone took the trouble to climb a few steps to shine up with a flashlight and then perhaps they would catch a glimpse of his shoes. They would not see Anna at all and if someone should attempt to come up, he would step out and do something.

Anna held her breath. She could hear footsteps now. John had not told her what was coming when he had pushed her against the door, but something evidently was. More than one person. They would certainly hear her breathing. It sounded so loud. Or they would hear her sniff. Her eyes and nose were filling and she could not let them run. She closed her eyes to shut out the world. Maybe it was a dream, a bad dream. If she would just concentrate on John stroking her hair, then maybe she could forget what was happening.

The two figures passed the doorway. "What will you do when we see Anna?" one asked the other.

The person phoning Anna could not have chosen a worse moment to call. Although her phone had the vibrating function, she had not turned it on, because she did not always feel it if it was in the pocket of her coat. The bleeping was loud and insistent, because her trembling fingers could not find the button to turn it off.

"Blast," John muttered. "Stay here and don't move," he whispered, roughly taking the phone out of her pocket and casually -- he hoped -- hopping down the stairs into the alley.

Anna sunk down in a corner and hid her face in her hands. She did not know what was going to happen now and she was very afraid.

John reached the alley and saw that the two figures had stopped and turned. He stood in the doorway and watched them. They stared back. The phone was still bleeping and he switched it off. There was nothing but a flowerpot to defend himself with and he was ready to grab it if they should do anything, but they stood as still as him.

He made a menacing figure in the semi-darkness, just standing there. Roger and Marcel could not see his face. All they saw was a tall person staring at them, doing nothing, and waiting to rob them, for all they knew.

John noted that one was carrying a camera. He became very angry with them. How dared they pursue and scare Anna so, only because they wanted to take her picture? "Give me that camera," he ordered and advanced a few paces. Naturally they broke into a run, but he knew he would run faster. The one with the camera was the slowest, having something to carry, and he caught up with that one just before a small bridge. "How convenient," he muttered. A strong push and the man was sent sprawling onto the ground. John grabbed the camera, removed the film rapidly and dangled it above the water. The film he stuffed into his pocket. It was always useful to see if, where and when they had been spotted.

"My camera!" cried the man, who had not seen that John had taken out the film, because he had been busy getting back on his feet. He had recognised Seton when he had stepped forward, but he had not had time enough to wonder what Seton had been doing there or if anyone else was with him. He briefly wondered about it now, but he was more concerned about his camera.

"It's going in if I don't like your answer," John warned him. "Who are you after? Oooh! Don't come any closer, because I mean it. It's going in."

"I'm not after anyone."

"Of course you are and if I really don't like your answer, you're going in after the camera. If you run, just know that if I can catch up with you once, I can catch up with you twice." He kept a watchful eye on the other side of the bridge, where the other man had disappeared to. If the man was clever, he would not come back.

"I'm going to report it to the police if you drop my camera!"

"Don't bore me. Who are you after?"

"Nobody."

John dropped the camera into the river. "Sorry. I didn't like that answer."

Roger cried out in agony. All the pictures they had taken at Paolo's party had just been destroyed. What would the magazine say? What would Paolo say? The whole thing had been intended to generate more publicity, what with his new CD coming up. He was enraged and flew at the man.

John had no trouble shoving Roger over the edge of the bridge as well. He shoved him over just sufficiently to make him aware that one little push was going to make him fall. "Care to follow? Remember: the water is cold. Freezing. But I don't care, because I'm not going in. You are, if you don't answer me truthfully. Who are you after?" He hoped nobody would pass by, because then he would have to think of something else.

"Y-Y-You and the Queen," Roger stammered, fearing that Seton would let him fall. He looked at the water flowing beneath him. It would be freezing. He would freeze to death.

"Me and the Queen," John repeated. "Why?"

"T-T-To see if you're her lover."

"And am I?"

"I d-d-don't know. D-D-Don't drop me!"

John pulled him up sharply and lowered him again, a little more this time. "And that's why you're following her around?" He could throw this chap in, but that would not solve anything. They would only reappear at some other occasion with a new camera.

Roger gasped. Seton could easily drop him now. Most of his weight was now hanging over the edge. "Y-Y-Yes. Pull me back! I don't want to go in."

"Were you at the house this morning?" he gave Roger a shake. He had not really believed that it had been the neighbour, but he had not wanted to say that to Anna.

"Yes!" Roger was terrified by the shaking.

"How do you feel?"

"I want up!"

"Scared?" John asked.

"Yes!"

"I'm only letting you feel what Anna feels if you follow her around," John said amiably. "Except that you know you'll only get wet, whereas she doesn't have a clue who you are and what you're going to do to her." He gave Roger another shake. "Don't follow her again or I might not be so nice as I'm now." He pulled Roger up and set him down on the bridge again.

Roger leant against the railing breathlessly, watching the man run away. So that was Seton. Not to be messed with. And where was that coward of a Marcel?

John ran back swiftly to find Anna. "Anna?" he called out when he neared the doorway. There was no answer and he sprinted the last bit, feeling worried. She was there, although she did not say anything, and she threw herself down the last two steps into his arms. "It's alright now," he soothed.

Anna had very afraid to sit there waiting in the dark, not knowing where he was and what he was doing. She had almost persuaded herself to go down and follow him, but she had not known what was awaiting her and that was just as scary. So she had just sat there waiting and hoping he would come back. And here he was. It was alright, he said. "What happened?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"Paparazzi. I threw their camera into the river. They won't bother us anymore tonight." John still panted a little from his run and he leant as much against her as she leant against him.

Anna thought that "I love you" could not nearly express all that she felt, but she said it anyway.

They had not yet reached Patrick and Marie-Celeste half an hour after Marie-Celeste had called them and the two were pretty annoyed. It created a bond if people could scold the same person and Patrick and Marie-Celeste were no different from the common man in that aspect. They were getting along famously.

"She's going to have a handmade gown anyway! Why do they have to stop at every bridal shop?" Marie-Celeste fumed, because Anna had mentioned wedding gowns earlier.

They had called Anna again, but they had not got through, something that had not improved their mood.

"They're probably stopping at every jeweller's," Patrick added. "This is not the time to look for wedding rings. John is not going to wear a ring anyway. It's a waste of time that could be better spent rescuing us."

"Would you?"

"No, I'm not a sissy. Ugh, Cellie!" he cried in horror.

John and Anna interrupted them in the middle of a discussion on where Patrick would keep his wedding ring. They stopped discussing when they saw on Anna's face that something had happened.

In the morning, John walked over to the neighbour, Paolo, to ask which tabloid had been following them. He did not know what he would do with the information, but he still had the film and maybe he could use it. He was not interested in pictures of Paolo. The tabloid was very welcome to those once he had got them developed.

When he returned to the house, he found that the rest was tidying up. Anna was collected in style, by a chauffeur and two bodyguards. She left with Marie-Celeste and let John take her car. It was a bit unhandy that her chauffeur had come with an extra car.

John dropped Nathalie and Hegge off at their respective homes and then he went to his own. He parked Anna's car a short distance away at the railway station. It was too difficult to find a place near his house. He went into the station to buy The Express. It appeared twice a week, on Sundays and Thursdays, and he wanted to know what the two reporters had written about him. After all, he had given them coffee and he expected something nice, or still better, nothing. His eye fell on a piece about Anna in the gossip column first and he sat down on a bench in the station hall to read it.

If we are to believe an anonymous source, the prevailing ideas about QUEEN ANNA'S personality are all wrong. Our source describes Anna as 'very shy and not at all haughty.' It apparently takes quite a while to draw Anna out of her shell and the source wonders 'how she is dealing with the current media circus. She can't be enjoying that. I got the feeling she prefers to sit at home doing all kinds of intellectual things.'

John wondered about the anonymous source. It might be anyone, but whoever it was, he was not very wrong.

"Hey," he protested with a snort. It was nice that they called him good-looking, if they were talking about him, but to suggest that he changed shirts to divert the female portion of the audience was absolutely ridiculous. And it was even more ridiculous that they suggested that Anna came to watch tennis especially for that. "Duh."

"How illogical can you get," he sighed and folded the paper. It was silly, but not malicious, and he did not mind it. He had walked part of the way to his home when he realised that he had forgotten to check the paper for anything about himself and he put down his bag to read the paper again. He turned the page after the little bit on Anna and discovered that the column continued on the next page.

Romantics being the editor of the two reporters whom he had invited in for coffee.

John snorted and chuckled. The two reporters had been listening attentively.

Spacious? It depended on one's point of view. Anna had called it small, but she was used to a huge palace. His flat was big enough for him.

Anna was home before twelve. She went swimming for a while and then prepared for her working lunch with her Private Secretary. In this way she avoided the rest of the family, who were all having lunch in the dining room. She did not want to face them and their questions.

After going over her correspondence and surprising Eva with her cheerfulness, she had time for a quick walk with her mother and the dogs. Eliane had two Labradors and she frequently walked them in the gardens. "How was it, Anna?" Eliane asked.

"It was wonderful, except last night. There were reporters following us and I was so afraid...but John took care of them. He threw their camera in the river." Today the world looked bright: white snow, blue sky and a yellow sun. Anna found it hard to feel frightened when she thought of it. It was best not to make too much of the incident.

"Did he lose his temper?" her mother asked with a slight note of surprise.

"I don't know. He went after them alone." Anna walked on for a few metres without speaking. "Maman, I might be pregnant." She hoped her mother would not be furious upon hearing that.

Eliane pulled Anna's arm through hers and gazed at the ground thoughtfully. "I got married in early March and you were born in late November," she murmured.

"I always thought I came early."

Her mother emitted a sour chuckle. "You were a full two weeks late."

Anna was stunned. "I was?"

"Nobody knows," Eliane said warningly. "Anyway, Anna...things happen..." she said with a Gallic wave of her hand. "Don't look back. Are you going to see him today?"

"Yes, he's playing this afternoon."

"Can you take Alexandra? Miral!" she called to one of the dogs who threatened to do something that was not allowed.

"Why?" Anna asked reluctantly. Alexandra was not the easiest companion she could imagine.

"She has been very difficult all weekend, very contrary. She had wanted to go with you to the theatre and when she heard you were going away to your summerhouse, she became absolutely intolerable. Please take her before I disown her. I told her she wouldn't have liked it, because you're all so much older than she is, but all to no avail."

"Well, alright...but can I send her home if she misbehaves?"

Anna had been surprised to notice how pleased Alexandra was that her sister asked her to come. She realised that that she and Marie-Celeste treated Alexandra as their little sister, when she was already seventeen, and if Anna needed a sisterly companion, she would turn to Celeste and not to Alexandra, who had reason to feel left out. Marie-Celeste did not have another engagement, so there was absolutely no reason for Alexandra to feel that she was only a second choice. She had not been out in public much and she all found it highly interesting that they were going somewhere, even if they were going privately and not professionally.

Marie-Celeste advised her on what to wear. She was not coming herself, because she kept in mind that Patrick had forbidden her to attend any more of his matches. Very well. She would be kind to him and stay home. Alexandra, who had died her hair red to be rebellious, was persuaded to wear it more conventionally than she usually wore it and Marie-Celeste also got her to wear some decent clothes rather than the short skirts she preferred even in winter.

John sought out the computer room, knowing his way around the stadium perfectly. It helped that he trained here a lot. He had quite some time to spend and he felt like doing something mischievous, rather than get bored in the players' lounge. From here, he had a good view of the square outside the stadium. He could see the gate and ticket booth and the people waiting in front of it. This morning he had noticed that the LED display over the gate still read the same message as two weeks ago: INTERNATIONAL TENNIS TOURNAMENT 28/12 - 5/1 It was pretty boring, actually. He sat thinking some time for something amusing, but his inspiration deserted him. He tried some lame messages such as INTERNATIONAL TENNIS TOURNAMENT FOUR DAYS LEFT and 3RD ROUND SINGLES TODAY and HAPPY NEW YEAR! for a while, until he saw Anna. WOMEN ARE ALWAYS LATE! he typed quickly.

Anna was alerted to the fact by Alexandra, who walked beside her and who pointed up. "Anna, look at that strange display!" They stopped walking and stared up in curiosity at the text scrolling by on the display.

John smiled when he saw that the girl beside Anna was nearly jumping up and down. It was probably her sister Alexandra. How old was she again, seventeen? Something like that. ALEXANDRA, WAVE AT ME.

Alexandra screamed. "It's haunted!"

"Don't be silly," Anna admonished. "The display is not talking by itself. Well, wave and let's see what it says next."

Alexandra waved uncertainly. "It's eery! How can it see what I'm doing?"

He laughed at her half-hearted wave. Apparently Anna had told her to wave. HOW ENTHUSIASTIC...

"Are you doing that?" Alexandra asked suspiciously, turning to Anna. How else did the display know how she had waved? It could not see. It had no eyes.

"How can I? I don't have any supernatural powers," Anna smiled, because she had an inkling of who was playing with the thing. She had no idea where he was, but she blew the display a kiss, not caring that she was standing in a public square and that all the people queuing for the ticket booth could see her.

He loved Anna. ALEX, TAKE ANNA FOR A MODEL.

Alexandra looked puzzled. "What does it mean?" Why would anyone want to take Anna for a model? Anna liked all kinds of boring things and if that was not quite enough, she also forbade Alexandra to do anything fun. Well, she did not actually forbid it, but she would betray her disapproval. She did not like it that she had to uphold some kind of image. She vividly remembered the first time she had been called into the headmaster's office. He had been so incredulous. Your sisters never got into trouble, he had said. No, of course they did not! They were so utterly boring! The headmaster would probably urge her to take Anna for a model as well. Yeah, right!

"I blew him a kiss," Anna explained and showed her by blowing another kiss. She wondered where he was. He was somewhere where he could see them, that was obvious. "I think he means that you should do what I do. I wonder what he'll say next."

Alexandra pulled a face. She was not going to blow a kiss to a display! But it surprised her that Anna would do that in public.

THANKS DARLING * KISS * scrolled the display.

"Oh, gross!" Alexandra cried. "You're flirting with an electronic message board. How nerdy can you get, Anna? In public! What pervert is behind that thing? It kisses you, even! And it wants me to take you for a model?"

Anna laughed good-naturedly. A delighted glow had come over her face when she had read the words. Life was so much easier when they could admit it in public. "Let's go in and I'll show you."

"How can we go in? Where?"

"We'll be met at the gate." She walked on, having already seen the tournament director waiting. They had indeed been a little later than she had agreed on, not much, a few minutes at the most. Fortunately he did not appear to have been looking at the board, but he greeted them politely and let them and the bodyguards in through a special gate.

The people in the queue were amazed. They too had seen the changing text on the display and the pretty smile it had brought to Anna's face. She had even smiled at them when she had passed them, wishing them a happy New Year. At first they had not realised who she was, not being used to seeing her smile, but when someone in the queue made the connection between the name of Alexandra and the consideration with which they had been ushered in through the gate, the news spread through the queue like a fire.

"We're really pleased to have you here again, Madam," the tournament director said. "And you too, Your Royal Highness. Have you recovered from your accident?" he continued to Anna. "Your mother and sister were here on Friday and they said you were in bed."

"I think I've completely recovered, thank you," Anna answered. She could barely feel that lump anymore, only if she pressed it really hard.

It took a while before John appeared, but that was because he had forgotten to change the text on the display to something more informative for the general public and he had to go back. He smiled when he saw her.

Alexandra blinked a few times when a player appeared from nowhere to give her sister a quick kiss on the mouth. The nerve! The man who had met them at the gate seemed just as shocked as she was.

"Alexandra, close your mouth," Anna told her.

That only served to lower Alexandra's jaw even more and she looked around herself. Fortunately there was nobody around who had seen this shocking incident. Was Anna not upset? Well, she ought to be very well mannered and not hit the man, but surely it was shocking to have a complete stranger kiss you? "But he kissed you!"

"Yes. But he may do that," Anna said cheerfully.

Alexandra looked as if Anna was insane.

"I suppose Anna didn't tell you," said John. He looked amused. It was just like Anna to assume that such news would find its way to the members of her family all by itself.

"Tell me what? Nobody tells me anything."

Anna gasped. "I thought my mother would have told her. Maman didn't tell you?" She looked at the tournament director and discovered that he did not appear to have been informed either. She cringed.

"What?" Alexandra was becoming irritated.

"He's...your future brother-in-law."

"Shall we go to the VIP lounge, Madam?" asked the tournament director. He was astonished by this quick development. Had they not been introduced last Wednesday? And it was Sunday now and already they seemed to have agreed that they would marry. But it was not like John to lead somebody on. He might joke, but this was no joke, by the looks of it. "And I will get you a drink. John did say you were a friend of his, but I had no idea..."

Anna smiled politely, but she did not mean it. "Am I so unattractive? I wish people would look beyond the title..." she said softly.

Alexandra was still eyeing John with surprise and curiosity. She could not believe that he was Anna's boyfriend. Future brother-in-law? Anna! Did he have a clue about how dull she was, though? It would be such a waste of him. She followed Anna and the tournament director, but she was much too stunned to speak to John beside her.

He was looking at her with equal curiosity. "I thought you'd be wilder," he said eventually.

Alexandra stared at him. Wilder? "Oh,, I'm not as dull as Anna. My other sister dressed me up in a dull way," she said quickly, so he would not think she always looked like this.

"Older people are always duller."

"They never tell me anything," she complained.

"And why should they?" he shrugged. "Would you be interested in your dull sister's life?"

Alexandra turned her head and stuck her nose in the air. He was dull himself.

The tournament director led them to Mr. and Mrs. Seton in the VIP lounge. He supposed Anna would know them, but he could not remember whether they had met the previous Wednesday. He was glad to see that they seemed to know each other. He could leave her with them then if necessary. People would always be needing the tournament director and he would also have to give his special guests equal attention.

Anna sat down next to Mrs. Seton, who beckoned her. "Anna," she said in a low voice. "Your mother called me and I stopped by the Sunday pharmacy to run a little errand for her."

Anna did not know what she could mean and her mind explored all the possibilities. She did not have a cold and she was not ill.

"She did not tell you?"

"No," Anna said curiously. "Excuse me." Her phone rang and she answered. "Ahh, Maman! Oui. Oui, je suis là. Quoi?" She turned bright red. "Uhh...oui. Non. Je n'avais pas...oui. Oh. Oui. Merci. Salut." She put away her phone, still feeling red and warm. "I think I know what you bought for her now." She had not thought about buying a pregnancy test herself, because that would be nearly impossible.

"For you, not for her."

"I didn't know -- I thought she didn't care much about it...because she didn't say much..."

"Oh, no!" said Mrs. Seton. "Your mother said to me that she always needs a little time to think before she can reply and that it wasn't until you were gone that she knew what to do. She called me. I gave her my number on Friday. John? I met Anna's mother on Friday."

"What?" John asked in alarm. "You didn't!" He could just see his mother walking up to Eliane and beginning a long story.

"Yes, I did. I went up to her -- Michel introduced us -- and I said to her that I was your mother."

"How impertinent. Did she answer you at all?"

"My mother is quite shy." Anna felt compelled to say. "She might have been curt." Her mother had told her that she had seen Mrs. Seton, but she had not said what they had been talking about.

"Oh, she was not," said Mrs. Seton to make Anna feel better, but she had indeed wondered at first about Eliane's sometimes less than gracious manners. However, she had quickly divined that the intention was good and she had not noticed it anymore.

"Did she say anything at all?" Anna wondered.

"My wife speaks enough for two," Mr. Seton remarked.

"Your mother has a charming accent, but she speaks the language very well," Mrs. Seton continued, ignoring her husband. "Well, there is a little interference from her native language, but it's very minor. Why am I telling you that? You would know that, of course. She and I had a very agreeable talk, also today on the phone. And we are thrilled -- well, we would be thrilled," she lowered her voice again. "But you haven't tested yet."

"My mother would be thrilled?" Anna asked. It was hard to imagine her mother being thrilled. She was not the sort of person to be thrilled. Glad, yes, but not thrilled.

"Oh, yes! We are approaching that age, dear. Has your other sister dyed her hair?" Mrs. Seton wondered about Anna not knowing her own mother and she decided not to pursue the subject.

"Yes."

"It looks nice on her."

"I'm glad she didn't go through with the purple," Anna remarked. "That was her original idea."

"I've had purple sons," Mrs. Seton shrugged. "John, tell Anna about that time when your hair was purple," she called.

Anna stared at him and he smiled at her. "Sorry," he said. "It's not a joke."

Alexandra looked at him with interest. Perhaps he was not so dull after all. "Why did you go back to your own colour?" she wondered.

"I grew up," he grinned. "Actually it was only purple for one day. Anna, don't look so shocked."

Contrary to what Alexandra had thought, there had been somebody who had seen John greet Anna. This person had been properly shocked and he had immediately spread the news. It was not long before there were different versions of the story in circulation. One version would have it that they had been caught kissing in an empty office and another said that Seton had kissed her without her permission.

The rumour eventually reached the VIP lounge as well, as was evident from the curious glances that were cast in Anna's direction. One of John's bolder acquaintances did not hesitate to ask him about it. "What do I hear now, John? Some people downstairs say you've been kissing the Queen." He did not speak loud enough for Anna to overhear.

"Which people downstairs?" John asked.

"Er...just about everybody. They don't quite agree on whether she welcomed the kiss, though."

John glanced at Anna. She was talking to his mother and Alexandra. "Just about everybody?" he said with difficulty. He had thought there was nobody around when he had greeted her.

"Yes. Everybody wants to know who saw it and they keep talking about it. I thought I'd ask you, since I know you. I didn't even know she was here. Where is she then?"

John raised his eyebrows. Anna's voice was soft and her gestures were not designed to draw any attention to her person, but he would always see her, even if she had a very self-effacing attitude. He found it amusing that his friend did not notice her, nevertheless. "She's sitting next to my mother over there."

His friend stared. "Well, have I ever! I hadn't even noticed." He kept staring until John nudged him. "Umm...yeah. Does that mean she knows your mother?"

"I think so," John nodded. Of course Anna would know his mother if she was talking to her and his eyes twinkled. This was actually quite amusing. A bigger shock awaited his friend still.

"She's..." his friend blinked. "She looks very normal. B-B-But...did you...?"

"Yes, I did."

"John! You certainly know how to give a fellow a heart attack!" He clutched his heart.

John grinned, but quickly pulled a serious face again. "Do you really mean that everybody in the stadium knows that I kissed Anna?"

"Yes, and if they don't know it at this moment, they will learn it within the next half hour."

It was a relief, actually, and he smiled. "That saves us a lot of explaining."

"I can't believe you did it! You just did it? Why?" His friend was still under the assumption that Anna had not had any say in the matter.

"Why?" John asked with an amused look. "Why? Look at her! That will tell you why!"

Anna glanced in his direction as if she sensed that she was being discussed and she smiled when she met his eyes.

"Oh!" said John's friend, much impressed. "Do you -- do you two have some thing going?" He could scarcely believe it, but the Queen had just smiled at John as if she was very fond of him and she was a very pretty thing if she smiled. He had not noticed that before.

"Yes!" said John with evident gladness.

"I need a drink."

Marie-Celeste took the opportunity to visit her grandmother. Grandma was nearly ninety years old, but still very fit. "Where is Anna?" she asked.

Marie-Celeste did not know if she could speak freely, considering that half the surviving old ladies in the family were drinking tea there. If she were to tell them that Anna was watching her boyfriend play tennis, they would surely be shocked.

Charles-Louis' grandmother Aunt Cornelia was also in her eighties and she had very old-fashioned ideas and a concomitant vocabulary. Concepts such as boyfriend were no part of it. Fiancé was something she understood, but she would be deeply offended because the fiancé had not presented to the Council of the Witches before Anna had made him such. Come to think of it, she would simply not understand that Anna could do such a thing without consulting them. She was still under the assumption that young women had no say in the matter.

Aunt Sophia was younger, seventy, but she had nothing other than interfere in the family members' lives to do either. She had successfully married her daughters Carmen and Christina -- Marie-Celeste's second cousins -- off to a prince and a banker respectively and she was always presenting suitable candidates for the other girls in the family, due to her extensive social network that covered most of Europe.

And there were many more girls in the family who were not yet married. Aunt Cornelia had brought one of her granddaughters, presumably to brainwash this Marina into marrying a prince. After all, there was a perfectly single, but not very attractive prince in a neighbouring country. Anna and Marie-Celeste, who were considered to have the first choice of eligible princes, had already declined interest. Marina had already looked at Marie-Celeste with a 'save me' expression when she had come in, so it was clear what was being discussed.

It sometimes baffled Marie-Celeste that they all kept living in the Palace. It was a little sect, run by grannies. Their convoluted family tree was clear to nobody but the grannies and not even Marie-Celeste was sure that she could draw it perfectly. She was glad that her father's aunt Mary had married an English prince, so that they did not have that branch live with them too. If she were Queen, she would usher them all out, politely. She would demolish a wing of the Palace, if necessary, so no new family members could be accommodated. Her father had been far too lenient with them, but that had all been his mother's doing. "Anna is watching tennis," she said finally.

"Tennis! On a Sunday?"

"I know Sundays are for family visits," Marie-Celeste murmured. The old ladies were becoming increasingly difficult as the years passed, reigning almost despotically over the family.

Marina stifled a grin. "Not even the Queen is free from such obligations." She had already been scolded for having arrived by train that morning after having spent New Year's Eve with a few girlfriends.

"And what is Eliane doing?" Grandma wanted to know.

Marie-Celeste knew that her mother was having tea with Charles-Louis' mother, who was almost the only person she really got along with in the Palace. "She's with Aunt Isabelle."

"Tell Anna she must visit tomorrow. I need to talk to her. Cornelia and I think it's time she got married. We got married at --"

"Aunt Celeste, you can't marry us all off at once," Marina said sweetly. She was a few years younger than Anna and also of marriageable age, according to the old ladies. "You just said the same thing to me. You might get our prospective husbands confused."

"Anna has priority," said Grandma. "She is responsible for the family's continuation. If she had been more sensible a few years ago, she would have married at twenty-one and she would not have had to face the problem of raising a family as a queen. She would have been past the difficult years." She rang the silver bell for a lackey to pour more tea. "Suzanna read that she is getting too friendly with a tennis player." Her own eyes were too bad to read and so were Cornelia's, so they had to rely on the younger aunts.

"Yes, Grandma," said Marie-Celeste. One would almost forget that for all their concern, both Grandma and Aunt Cornelia had married into the family themselves. If the old ladies had not been genuinely -- in their unique way -- fond of every family member and had their best -- old-fashioned -- interests at heart, it would have been much easier to ignore them. "He's very nice."

"Oh, childie!" said her grandmother. "I'm sure he is, but so is my hairdresser. Is Anna staying on? I hear she has recovered remarkably. Will she surprise us all? She seems to be warming to the task, finally."

Anna approached John. "A word before you go," she said softly, pulling him aside. It could not be long before he was to play, but so far she had not seen any sign of concentration yet.

"Do you want me to change shirts during the match?" John asked her.

"Why?" she looked puzzled.

"I read that you enjoy that," he grinned, thrusting the magazine at her.

Anna read it and shook her head mischievously. "Whatever you like...you're not going to win anyway, because your routine was upset..."

"I replaced it with a better one."

"You hope. No, that's not what I wanted to say. I just wanted to say...shouldn't you be concentrating? Well, I can't give you any technical tips, because you ought to know what you have to do by now, but..."

He smiled at her. "But mentally I'm not all that I should be?"

"No! You know what I mean. You're too relaxed. You don't look like someone who is about to play."

"That's good." Seriously, what can Anna know about this? He wondered. She should not tell him what to do. He knew exactly what to do.

"No, it's not. You'll be out there and not caring that you'll lose points. But I suppose you don't know what I want."

"Yes, I do. You want me to win in straight sets, with preferably a break in the first game already, so that you don't have any reason to become nervous because the outcome will be clear and the match will be boring. I wish I had to win two sets and not three. It would have brought down the level of boredom by a third."

"Are you there to win or are you there to excite the public?" Anna asked. He finally seemed to be getting into some kind of spirit, even if it was more like annoyance at her interference. "You're not the type. And some of the public might be satisfied with less exciting things."

"But most won't. If it's too much for you, you can always close your eyes. I'm not playing for you."

"You're not?" she asked. Well, that was a good thing to know, because she would have ordered him to pull out if he had only been playing for her. "Who are you playing for then? Not for yourself. You'd be more motivated."

John opened his mouth and closed it. Why was she acting like Marie-Celeste? It was not like Anna to be this way. Anna did not needle people. "Don't imitate your sister."

"Don't imitate your brother!" she retorted. "If you'd rather not have me look, then tell me so and I will go!"

"It's not very nice of you to pick a fight with me just before I have to play."

"A real professional wouldn't be affected," Anna said haughtily. Not nice of me! Is he being nice then? "He'd be able to fight and still win, instead of losing points so that the public will get an exciting match."

"Logic has never been a woman's strongest point." And what does she mean? I'm not a real professional?

"Taking advice from a woman has never been a man's strongest point," she countered.

"I'm not going to listen to you just because you're the Queen!" he snapped at her and stormed out of the VIP lounge, presumably towards the dressing rooms. People stared after him. They had seen that it had looked like an argument, even if they had not been able to overhear any of it.

Anna smiled weakly. "Oh, my! How touchy! He shouldn't underestimate me," she said in reply to Mrs. Seton's worried look. "I'm not going to sit out there. Let him prove to himself that he doesn't need me. I'll stay in here." She was not some obedient little woman. No, she had her own opinions and her own pride.

"What happened?"

"He didn't like it that I said he was a bit too relaxed."

"No, he wouldn't," his mother agreed. It was not the best moment for them to discover that they could quarrel. She wondered if she could do anything.

Anna held up her hands. "Professionals shouldn't take that to heart. They shouldn't even listen. They should let it go in one ear and out the other. If he can't do that, he shouldn't be here," she said fiercely, determined not to give in.

"Aren't you being a bit hard?"

"No, I'm not. I'm not against having fun. Fun can be had at my tennis court. This here is serious business. If you can't be serious and if you can't give it all your effort, then you have no business here. And I'm sure he looks very charming on court, but I didn't come here to watch that. If I want him charming, I'd take him home or something." She stopped to catch her breath and smiled uncertainly suddenly. Maybe she had been a bit too hard after all. "I understand he was a little taken aback by my behaviour. So am I, actually. I should go and apologise." Anna ran after him and caught up with him as he was going down the stairs. She did not care that people stared at her. "You're a professional -- you should have ignored me."

"I am ignoring you," John said over his shoulder. He wondered if she would follow him all the way into the dressing rooms. "You're a professional too -- you shouldn't be running after me, Your Majesty." Everybody could see her and everybody could see that they were not too pleased with each other at the moment, probably. He knew he did not look very happy and he guessed that Anna's face would be betraying something as well.

Anna almost had to run to keep up with him. His cold words hurt her. "Are you going to involve that queen thing in every argument?" She cried angrily. "If that's how you want it, fine, then it will stay that way."

"Suit yourself," he said calmly, but he was shocked. She can't mean that! I thought she was going to quit. Anna could not mean that she would stay on just to be mean to him. She could not. She just could not. "You're going to have to live with it. Not me." He was too proud to ask her what she meant and if she please would not do such a thing. Not in public.

Anna stopped and nearly choked. No, I'm not going to take it back. I can't. It would be too weak. "Right. Not you," she spat after him. She clenched her fists and retraced her steps back to the VIP room. People looked at her, but she did not notice.

John did not look back for the first few paces and only when he reached the door to the dressing rooms did he glance back tentatively, but she was no longer in sight and he slammed the door behind him. He told himself that he could have known that getting involved with her would lead to trouble. It had only been a matter of time. She had come after him. To make up? He had not meant for his words to sound so harsh and if they had been alone, he was sure he would have tried to do something about them, but it had been impossible with all the other people around them and then she had said that. That. Do I want us to make up? He wondered angrily when he thought about what she had said. He pushed the thought aside, because he had to get ready and he could not be distracted by things like that. I'll show you that I'm a pro. I can play without thinking of you, but of course that's unimaginable for you, isn't it, Madam Queen? He said silently.

At home, Marie-Celeste watched an interview with Patrick, who had just finished playing. She was struck by his serious demeanour. Apparently he was not always teasing and being annoying. He could answer questions calmly and seriously.

And he did not lose his composure when the questions turned out to have nothing to do with his game.

"There were some very interesting things going on right before this interview," said the interviewer. "Did you hear anything about them?"

"I can't say that I do," Patrick answered.

"The rumour goes that your brother was first seen kissing the Queen and then seen arguing with her."

Marie-Celeste cried out, but Patrick did not flinch. "Oh, really?" He had done it the other way around himself. Neither activity sounded very shocking to him.

"Might he have been kissing her?"

"May we stick to tennis?" Patrick asked politely. "We're at a tennis tournament. You're asking me to confirm something that everybody saw except me." Frankly, he did not care whether it had happened or not. What did it have to do with him? He had just won and it was a bit disappointing that a serious sports programme should want to focus on stupid gossip about what his brother was up to with Anna. Oh, okay, she's the Queen, Patrick thought. I see your point. But still, I don't know anything about it and I don't think I should talk about them.

"Yes, but is it really true?"

"Only tennis-related questions, please." He remained polite. "I did not hear any rumours because I was concentrating on my match and therefore I'm not qualified to say anything about how my brother prepared for his."

"His way of preparing himself seems to work pretty well," the interviewer remarked, looking at the screen. "He hits the balls pretty violently and this is only the warming-up."

"Yes, he usually knows what he is doing," Patrick agreed. "But perhaps if you only need me to discuss my brother's activities off court, you had better talk to my mother. I'm not sure I can be of any assistance unless you wish to discuss my game or his."

Another point for Patrick, Marie-Celeste noted. He was holding himself very well. But what was that rumour about Anna arguing? Anna had been arguing in public? Unthinkable.

They looked at what the mobile cameraman had been recording around the stadium.

Anna felt that she needed a little time off to decide whether her title was really in her way or whether she just thought it was. Many incoherent thoughts whirled through her head as she walked back to the VIP room, but she would not allow herself to really go into them yet. All she knew was that she was angry and sad, although she did not know exactly what she was angry and sad about. She sat down in a corner, not paying attention to any curious stares and she gazed at a painting without seeing it. She should not betray anything, but she should appear calm and unruffled as if nothing had happened.

"Anna?" Alexandra asked. "Are you coming in?"

"No," Anna declined politely. "I have a slight headache. I prefer to sit here for a while." She brushed off people's well-meant concern and heaved a sigh when she was finally alone. Except for the barman and the bodyguard, but she did not really count him, since he was trained to blend into the background. She really could not go out and watch tennis and certainly not John. It would only serve to remind her that she had perhaps just broken up with him. Had she? Anna winced. She did not know how he had interpreted her words. She asked for pen and paper at the bar and sat on a barstool to write down her thoughts. Not only would that ensure that she thought slower, but also that she would not think them twice.

Anna ordered a coffee. She winced when she saw that Patrick was being interviewed. She saw that apparently some camera had captured their argument. After looking and listening for a minute she asked the barman if he could turn down the sound so she could not hear it anymore. She was not interested in what people had to say about her. It would not be true anyway and they could not add anything that she did not already know.

She drank her coffee and reread what she had written with a shudder. It sounded a bit depressing to her.

Anna ordered an orange juice and saw on the TV screen that John's match had started. She could actually see it much better here, she realised. The close-ups showed his expression much more clearly. He looked a bit grim. So different from last week. But it was difficult to say what he was thinking. She suddenly remembered her bodyguard. He must be feeling a bit lonely now that his colleague had to sit with Alexandra. "I'll pay for his drinks if he wants any," she told the barman and returned to her writing, leaving it up to the barman to go and inquire if he needed anything.

She had another orange juice and noticed that some people had come into the lounge. They were looking at her curiously. Of course. I'd almost think I was an alien. Instead of looking back, she looked at the things that hung over the bar. Apparently this room was normally used by the tennis club. There were trophies and ribbons all around and the walls were hung with pictures and newspaper articles. She did not know what else to write, so she started to draw a plan of her bedroom and sitting room, to try out new arrangements.

After his interview, Patrick joined his family on the stands. "What happened? They questioned me about some argument that John had with Anna, but I didn't know anything about that."

"Yes, I think they had an argument. She's not watching, as you see. Only her sister."

Patrick looked at the VIP box. "Oh, the other sister," he said in disappointment. "Where is Anna then?"

"Either she's still inside or she went home," his mother answered. She had been wondering about Anna's whereabouts herself. They had left Anna in a corner. She had been lost in thought, but she had not been crying, although it was difficult to say if she might have started after everyone left.

"It's a good thing that she isn't watching. Too distracting," Mr. Seton commented. "He'd be looking at her all the time to see if she was still upset."

"If he doesn't want her upset with him, he shouldn't have made her upset," said Mrs. Seton.

"Ahh, don't count out Anna," said Patrick. "I mistook her for a sweet little girl as well and I thought she had been bowled over by John, sort of, but I heard from him that the initiative is mostly on her side. I laughed myself sick when I heard that."

"Why? Because a sweet little girl never takes the initiative?" Mrs. Seton asked.

"Don't know. I have to laugh at something, don't I? Well, she said marry me, or hands off, or something like that. Imagine him reduced to doing what she says! Of course that's got to clash at some point. And it surprises him, that's the funniest bit. At least I know that I'll clash with...what's the score anyway?" he said quickly.

"He never told us that he had received an ultimatum," said Mr. Seton.

"No, that's what brothers are for," Patrick replied.

"Then I suppose we should ask your brothers whose name you swallowed there so quickly?"

Patrick did not answer. He thought that unnecessary. His mother knew, undoubtedly, and she would tell his father soon. How come she had not done so already?

"What do you mean, hands off?" asked Mrs. Seton, who was a bit concerned about the idea. "Did he misbehave?"

"Oh, Mum! The whole point of my story is that he never does anything she doesn't want. Apparently. Because he doesn't tell me everything, you know. Would you give your sons a hard time if they misbehave?"

"Would that have any effect? I'll leave it to your girls to do that and by the sound of it, they're quite capable." After all, Marie-Celeste had hit Patrick and Anna apparently did not object to telling John what she did not like and what she wanted him to do.

The Prime Minister, soon to be dismissed, was also watching television and he did not miss the little bit about Anna. He opened his eyes wider and leant forward interestedly. Perhaps this was something he could use. He would probably not get away with doing something to her physically, but he could always get her in other places that hurt, such as her heart. His devious mind began to consider ways in which he could exploit this rift between the two to the fullest. It would not be difficult to discredit Seton. He had done it to politicians before. It was so easy to hire some woman and to send her off to compromise the man and no better moment that this, when it would not be at all unbelievable that he would seek consolation elsewhere. Anna would and could not take him back after that. Imagine the uproar!

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