Hello everyone, yes I'm back with a new story, which wouldn't have been possible without the help of my friend and fellow writer RhondaStar, so just want to thank her for all her help :) I really appreciate it!

It's a little different to what I normally write, but thanks for stopping by and I hope you all still enjoy it :)

"Married?" Queen Clarisse exclaimed, shocked, as she stood behind the grand desk in her office, her hands resting atop of the polished marble surface.

It had been a good day up until that point, the sun had been shining and there hadn't been a single drop of rain, perfect Genovian weather, though she was grateful for the Palace's air-conditioning – a modern touch, when she'd first arrived it had been stifling in some of the rooms come summer.

"Yes, your majesty. We-,"

"We?" Exclaimed the Queen, interrupting the Prime Minister. "Who exactly is we?"

"Well myself, of course, and parliament," the Prime Minister answered before continuing. "We feel, that for you to continue on the throne then you must… it's unprecedented really, that's all we're concerned about…" He was stalling, and they both knew it. "It makes sense in terms of our constitution for you to, well, to remarry."

"I see," she answered, too shocked to say anything more as she slowly made her way to stand by the window for several moments before asking. "And whom do you all suggest I marry?"

Turning, the Prime Minister looked over at the Queen as she stood with her back to him. "Well we thought about Lord Michaels, you two have known each other for some years and we have noticed you have both become close over the last few months."

Turning, Clarisse stared over at him in disbelief. "Yes, it's true he has been a good friend during these troubled times." The truth was she had known for many years that Lord Michaels interest in her was for far more than friendship and he had pursued her for some time. She shook her head as she looked away, "I see him merely as a friend, nothing more." She said matter of factly, as she looked back to the Prime Minister. "There are no romantic notions there, certainly not on my part."

"Your majesty, King Rupert has been gone for two years now and although we accepted that you continue ruling until Prince Philippe was ready to take over at first, but with his unfortunate and tragic passing last year you cannot continue to rule the country of Genovia without a husband by your side." The Prime Minister's tone was more forceful than usual, and he steadied himself by leaning on the back of a chair as he studied the Queen.

Clarisse sighed heavily as she made her way back over to her desk and sat down behind it. If she were honest with herself she would have expected this some time ago, that they had allowed her to rule this long without interreference was something of a miracle but now with Philippe… she briefly closed her eyes.

"I see," she answered solemnly and looked at a photo of herself and her late husband sitting on her desk for a long moment before addressing the Prime Minister again. "I shall need some time, to consider what has been said."

"Of course, your majesty," said the Prime Minister before heading to the door. "When do you leave for San Francisco?"

"We fly out tomorrow morning," she answered, still in a state of shock over their conversation. "Are you still planning to join us out there for the state dinner?"

"We are, providing all is well," said the Prime Minister as he opened the door and turned back to her.

"Well, all being well then, I will see you next in San Francisco." The Queen said.

"Of course, your majesty," bowed the Prime Minister before leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Up in her suite later that night, the Queen wrapped one of her cashmere shawls around her shoulders before picking up the shot of Whisky that she had sent down for, something she rarely did – but tonight's musings required something a little more potent than cocoa.

The evening was warm and light and she stepped out onto her private balcony for a moment of solitude. It had been a long day, and she had just spent the last few hours after dinner packing for her trip to San Francisco with the help of her assistant Charlotte. When they bid each other goodnight, she had planned to take a shower and crawl straight into bed to try and rest well before tomorrow's flight, but with so much on her mind she feared that sleep would not find her tonight.

Because if feeling nervous about meeting her granddaughter, Amelia, for the first time since she was a baby, and breaking the news to her that she's a Princess wasn't enough to worry about, she now had the added worry of the Prime Minister's words.

Lord Michaels, she thought as she sat down in one of her balcony chairs and placed her glass down on the table beside her while sitting back and looking out into the darkening night sky. Could she really go through another arranged marriage? She was a 65-year-old woman, who had worked very hard ruling on her own and keeping her beloved country of Genovia in check since her husband, King Rupert's sudden passing just two years ago.

They had spent 45 years together after an arranged marriage all those years ago, something she hated with a passion to begin with only being nineteen at the time but she knew her duty, it had been drummed into her from the moment they first met when she was 16 and over time they actually grew very fond of one another. If she was honest with herself, she was still angry with her husband for leaving her so suddenly. Leaving her to rule on her own and cope with the loss of their youngest son last year, and now the thought of having to go through it all again just to keep the throne. The throne that was only betrothed upon her through marriage, not blood, made her question all she had worked so hard for.

Taking a sip of the Whisky she had brought out onto the balcony with her, the liquid burning her throat as she swallowed, her mind wondered back to Lord Michaels. He wasn't a bad looking man really, any woman would be lucky to have him by her side. He was certainly appropriate, with impeccable breeding and manners with a long family line stretching back generations and she was certainly aware of his feelings towards her.

But he was not the one who had her heart.

There was someone else, someone in the shadows who she had known for just as long as she had been Queen. He was headstrong, very, very handsome, also with impeccable breeding and a long family line dating back generations too and someone she would certainly jump at the chance to marry if given the chance, but he was unfortunately out of bounds for someone like her.

Or rather, she was out of bounds for somebody like him.

Their positions. Their class. Their roles. The country would never accept it.

Sighing heavily, she got to her feet and moved to stand by the balustrade on her balcony, placing her hands down on the top of it as she overlooked her gardens for several long moments before retiring to her suite to at least try and get some sleep.