It's been seven weeks, 2 days and five hours since her older brother returned to claim his rightful throne with no memory of how he'd almost died.

It's been six weeks, 1 day and 17 hours since her uncle took an overdose of sleeping tablets, leaving a note behind saying that with no throne he had no further purpose in life.

It's been nine weeks, 6 days and eleven hours since HE packed his bags, cleared his room and left without a word.

It's been one week, four days and twenty two hours since she let Beck back into her life again.

It's been 2 days and 3 hours since she and her twin set foot on the other side of the world for their third visit to Australia.

She wasn't supposed to go to Australia originally, but Robbie and Liam persuade her. At first when Robbie came back from the dead she was on a high for a good two weeks, even without the drugs she'd sworn off for good so recently. That too, earned her brownie points with both her brothers.

Beck was back and around a lot with Robbie, and things kind of started back up between them, now that she's a new and improved version of herself, or so everyone seems to think. Except that it doesn't really feel like she is. It still sort of feels like even though her brother's back there's still a part of her that's missing.

Out of all the things that have happened to her over the past ten weeks, the thing that stays with her the most is that she still can't shake the hold he still has on her, wherever he is, whatever he's doing.

In Australia she and Liam have been subjected to the usual tours, but with a local flavour – visiting a school, patting a koala at a zoo, hosting a state dinner.

On their second night, they're supposed to attend the opera.

"Bor-ring," Eleanor rolls her eyes as she peers at the evening's performance programme. The thought of having to listen to ancient ugly fat ladies pretending to be attractive eighteen year olds while flirting in Italian is really not her thing.

"If you make me attend this I promise you I'm going to need to trip off to the bathroom half way through to powder my nose, if you get my drift," she announces to her brother, giving him a threatening look.

She's been smiling and shaking hands all day. Now that Robbie's on the throne she's making more of an effort to behave because she wants him to succeed. But eight hours of being nice and a proper Princess is really all she can manage without going stir crazy.

Liam shrugs, "fine then, do what you like, but just remember that you'll have to up at 8 for our walkabout at 9."

Eleanor nods and smiles. "And you remember that even though it's at Bondi there's no crowd surfing. Royal protection will have a fit."

Liam smiles and leans over to stretch out his sleeves towards her, "got it sis," he says handing her his cufflinks.

Eleanor takes the cufflinks and attaches them for him, then inspects him. "You know I'm almost tempted to say you're looking a little too sharp to die of boredom at the opera."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Liam replies, grinning. "Have a good night yourself."

The club they've turned up at Sydney is much the same as the type she likes to frequent in London or Paris, only its hotter and slightly more casual.

With her she has her lady in waiting the Honourable Emily Wilson, who isn't actually as stuffy as her title may suggest, and Mr Hill. Three members of the Australian Police loiter in plain clothes scattered around the dance floor.

By 11pm she's downed five drinks and she's getting tired of people asking to take selfies with her, so they've moved to the private VIP area.

She's flicking ash from her cigarette onto a tray when the first shot is fired and all hell breaks loose. Three more shots ring out in quick succession. "He's dead, they're both dead," a girl screams from near the door.

On the dance floor people push and jostle each other, and there is more screaming and more shots. Suddenly the crowd parts like the red sea. From where she's sitting Eleanor can see three men at opposite sides of the room holding guns.

They are all dark skinned, with beards and one of them fires his gun twice more into the air.

"Get on the floor," he yells, pointing his weapon threateningly at the crowd. People scream and fall to the floor, clutching at one another.

In their corner, Emily grabs Eleanor and drags her down onto the floor as the two people beside them follow suit. From between her hands Eleanor can see now that there are actually five gunmen altogether as two more men make their way towards the centre of the room.

They stand there silently scanning the room.

They speak to another in a language she doesn't understand but she keeps her head down and doesn't look up. She knows damn well that nothing good can come of being recognised in this situation.

There is another shot, this time close to her, and out of the corner of her eye she can see blood start to pool on the floor. She risks a quick glance to her left and feels the breath knocked out of her when she realises that the target was Mr Hill, her friend and bodyguard who's clutching his chest.

She's shifts slightly to get a better look at him and under cover of the person in front of her, her hand starts searching for her purse where her mobile is hidden.

Footsteps start coming closer to her and finally a pair of heavy boots stops in front of her face and kick her arms. She peers between her hands and looks at the ground.

A finger is pointing down at her body and she curls into herself, trying to make her body into a tight ball huddled against the ground.

Suddenly a pair of strong arms seize her and she is being dragged from the floor to her feet as her heart starts to hammer so loud it drowns out any other sound.

She thinks tonight is the night she's going to die.

In Las Vegas, he's been spending a lot of time at the gym.

He's been spending longer on the rowing machine, pumping heavier weights and pushing himself harder than ever.

He's not sure what this is all in aid of, but it helps him to stop thinking and that's got to be good because when he starts thinking sooner or later his thoughts inevitably come back to her.

So when the breaking news band flashes across the TV screen saying there's a terrorist siege in a Sydney nightclub he can't help but feel his chest tighten when he remembers that she's in Australia right now, very probably in Sydney.

And although he tells himself that the chances of her being right there in that club are pretty slim, it only takes him two seconds to drop his weights and reach for his phone to call Liam to reassure himself that she is safe. Because all he ever wanted was for his princess to be safe (or at least he tells himself that's all he ever wanted for her, from her.)