The principal characters (which are the only ones I will use) are not mine, they belong to Meg Cabot and Disney.

This story takes place before PD1. Please imagine that King Rupert died several years before his heir Philippe (who is alive when this story takes place) and that the law ´thou shallt be married before thy coronation´ applies to both princesses and princes (for that explains why Queen Clarisse still rules).

All characters are fictitious.

The weekenders

Chapter 1 – Who the hell is B?

Charlotte waited in the main entrance hall, ready to accompany Her Majesty to the University of Pyrus. Joe walked toward her and before he could ask, she said: ´She will be here soon, she had a call on her private line.´

´The prime minister?´ the head of security guessed.

´I doubt it.´

The Queen emerged, dressed in a black skirt and jacket, with a shawl the colour of her eyes. Joe thought she looked lovely, especially with that radiant smile on her face.

´Good morning Joseph,´ she greeted him, immediately addressing her secretary: ´Charlotte, could you reschedule my appointment with minister Villand for coming Saterday? Ask him if Saturday a week suits him.´

´I will do it ma'am. Did something urgent occur?´

´No, a friend asked me for a weekend's outing.´

She didn't elaborate, just continued smiling, while checking her bag.

Joe and Charlotte exchanged a glance.

´Majesty, regarding security, could you inform me about your plans in more detail?´

´There is no need for that Joseph. My friend has security and it is not very large where we are going, so if my security is to come along as well, we can forget about our privacy.´

Her skirt nicely accentuated her fine legs as she walked out of the Castle, leaving Joseph quite confused. Who was this friend with whom his Queen needed privacy?

OoOoOoO

Joe tried to find out more from Charlotte, but she insisted that she didn't know who the mysterious friend was. The only thing she'd heard, she hesitatingly revealed, was that the Queen had exclaimed ´B!´ after she picked up her phone.

B.

B?

Who the hell is B?

He urged the Queen not to go unguarded, insisting that his men (and himself, but he didn't say that) would accompany her. She repeated the ´forget about our privacy´ nonsense.

The second time he entered the subject, she made it very clear that it was out of the question to have more guards accommodated in the house.

The third time he suggested that her security would take lodgings as near her holiday address as possible. She did not yield.

The fourth time (which was the next morning), she sighed and to his relief said: ´I will call my friend, so arrangements can be made.´

´Your friend B.´

She stared at him and slowly replied (a sign that she was not pleased): ´Indeed, my friend B.´

He glanced at the phone.

´As soon as you have left Joseph.´

He inclined his head and did her bidding, accidentally not closing the door. He had always wanted to know who had painted the portrait of Louis II, which hung next to the entrance to Her Majesty's office. He decided to search for the artist's name starting in the top left corner of the canvas.

While he was thus employed, he heard her dial a number. An international one, judging by its length.

´Hello B! Do you have a moment?´

For you? Of course! Joe thought.

´No, I can still make it. I am looking forward to it tremendously.´

Joe didn't know what to think.

´Well, it is my head of security.´

He couldn't ignore the cold tone.

´He insists on me bringing guards.´

Damn right I do. You figured that she might be more accessible without bodyguards didn't you B?

Joe realised that the Queen's voice had sounded nearer by...

´He probably would come anyhow, spying... and being caught by your men.´

The door was closed.

Joe was at first insulted that she thought he could be caught by B's so called guards, when he realised he had been caught already, by her. He cursed and headed for the staff kitchen.

The guards near the entrance to the Queen's office exhanged a glance. One of them frowned, the other answered by shrugging.

OoOoOoO

Joe sat down for lunch next to Charlotte, who was sitting conveniently near Her Majesty's second dress maid.

´Will you have the weekend off Charlotte?´

She nodded. ´So will you, won't you Joe?´

´No,´ he replied, unable to suppress a smirk.

´So you managed to convince her?´

He gave her a nod.

´What about you Rebecca, will you be joining Her Majesty on her trip?´

The dress maid blushed, pleased that the head of security knew her name.

´No sir, the Queen will take none of us with her.´

I suppose ´B´ will be keen to help her unzip... Joe thought.

He used more force than needed to tear off a piece of bread.

´Have you packed her bags already?´

´Not yet sir, but the Queen told me what she needed.´

´Comfortable clothes I suppose?´

´Joe!´ Charlotte warned him.

´No evening gowns I mean,´ he said, looking at Charlotte.

´No sir, she does require dresses for dinner however and she will go riding.´

Ever since Joe had seen the Queen in regular riding gear, he felt there was something reassuringly romantic about a woman riding side-saddle, wearing voluminous skirts not revealing legs and derrière.

´I am happy for the Queen,´ Rebecca shared. ´She's really looking forward to it.´

After a small pause the maid asked Charlotte: ´Do you think it's a romantic date Miss?´

Joe drowned the piece of bread in his soup.

´No I don't,´ Charlotte replied, hoping her cheeks wouldn't turn red.

´Well,´ the cook, Mrs Danieli, contributed, ´I heard she's humming a lot.´

She raised her eyebrows a few times in case someone wouldn't get it.

Colonel Frerer, seated at another table, continued cleaning a pear even when she remarked: ´If I had the prospect of a sudden holiday, I would hum as well.´ She looked up.

´Of course colonel,´ Mrs Danieli hastily replied.

That evening the Queen informed Joseph that lodgings were arranged for four guards at a distance of 300 metres from the house where she and her friend would be staying.

OoOoOoO

In the few days toward Friday, when that blasted B was going to take Her Majesty away, the head of security grew very tense.

He asked the Queen about the particulars of the housing more than once, wanting to get hold of the floor plan of her residence and a map of the surroundings, wanting to find out the fastest way to the nearest hospital and many other things, but after she had given in to his initial wish, she didn't cooperate any further. He didn't even know where she was going to ´relax´.

´It is somewhere in Spain,´ she had said, as if that was everything he needed to know.

He had never seen her so stubborn but he wasn't willing to give in either, no matter how annoyed she grew.

On Thursday morning the Queen was on her way to the Throne Room, to meet the new Hungarian ambassador. The colonel, in full dress, accompanied her, adding military pomp and circumstance to the ceremony.

He intercepted them.

´Majesty.´

´Joseph?´

´Majesty, I must insist again that I am handed more information about -´

´Which part of "that is not necessary" didn't you get?´

´Ma'am, a word in private please.´

´Not granted.´

´After the ambassador is installed then,´ he demanded.

She stopped walking and looked him in the eyes.

´Not another word. I have never been neglectful of security, and when I tell you that my friend's guards will protect me as well as my own would, you will just have to accept that.´

He wished her icy tone wasn't directed at him, but if she had lost her senses, he would have to think for her.

´I demand to be told where you are going and with whom.´

´Don't shout at me,´ she said, alarmingly soft.

´Majesty, we are a little behind schedule,´ the colonel lied.

The Queen nodded and continued her walk, her high heels punishing the marble floor.

Before the Queen entered the Throne Room, she took a deep breath. She pushed her anger away by thinking of the coming weekend and when the ambassador reported to his minister about the meeting, he praised Her Majesty's knowledge and charm.

After the Queen entered the Throne Room, Joe hit a wall. He tried to get rid of his anger by entering the dojo and when his men afterwards discussed the training session, they cursed their boss´s ruthlessness and temper.

OoOoOoO

On Friday Joe woke up with a sick feeling.

Perhaps, he figured, if she sees the losers B hired for guards, she will finally realise that it is best to have her own people stay at the house. And if she would, he wouldn't say "I told you so" he would simply bend his head and arrange things.

He entered his bathroom.

He could deal with this. No matter what, he would sneak into that house and stop ...

His mind had, on its own account, been imagining what B and his Queen could be doing together.

They could walk. And hold hands while walking. B could kiss her hand. Put his arm around her waist. Whisper in her ear. Joe felt that would be a good moment for him to start coughing. He knew his Queen, when she was reminded that someone was watching, she wouldn't feel free to... relax.

They could dine. And gaze at each other while dining. Joe figured that four guards playing basket ball would make enough noise to ruin a tête-à-tête.

They could dance. And talk while dancing. And if at some point, he, secretly guarding outside the room, would hear music only, well, he could very well pretend that he thought that some gas had escaped, making her faint. Why not? He preferred his fantasy to end with the Queen being grateful of his interrupting B's unwelcome advances.

They would ride. B would surely enjoy that...

Joe smashed his water glass in the washstand.

He was with her almost every day! Where could she have met this B? How had B escaped his notice? Maybe they had an intimate correspondence?

Once they arrived in Privacy Paradise, he would ask her very politely if he could check the house. Just in case, he would say. I have fullest confidence in your friend's men ma'am, but if something should happen...

He tried facial expressions to accompany his request.

Not angry Joe!

Not concerned you fool!

Yes: that's it. Purely professional.

He said his lines out loud. Perfect.

He would get familiar with the house, try doors and windows to see how safe it was. See if there was an alarm system, a working telephone line. And he would find out if she had a separate room.

He saw the man in the mirror frown. I know what you think: a separate room doesn't guarantee that she...

´Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!´

B would arrive at four o'clock and until then the Queen had a busy schedule. In the morning she successively met members of the Board of Highschools and the chairwoman of the Genovian Red Cross. After a quick lunch she visited the country's second town, Antiem, to celebrate the 75th anniversary of the Society for the Study of Crime.

She keenly listened to the honourable Members, asked intelligent questions, looked radiant and would have been insulted had she known that the men she was talking to would not have been less impressed with her had she remained silent.

Maybe, Joe contemplated, he was a masochist for wanting to join her on her trip. He felt like punching every criminologist who threw her an appreciative glance. What would his reaction be if that damned B looked at her that way? Or touched her?

When Her Majesty left the conference hall where the Society had received her, numerous people were waiting for a glimpse of her. She decided not to get into the waiting car, but meet her subjects. It was a great opportunity for the press but a nightmare for security. Joseph stayed near her as she gracefully received flowers and kindly spoke to everyone who wasn't too shy to address her.

Joe would have preferred the crowd not to close in but the Queen wasn't uncomfortable and brilliantly smiled to those surrounding her. Her perfume settled itself in his nose.

When for the fourth time her lady in waiting signaled to him that they had to leave, he placed his hand under his Queen's right elbow and whispered: ´It is time to go Your Majesty.´

She nodded without looking at him, keeping her focus on the public. After caressing a baby's cheek, and saying some well chosen words of farewell to the public, she made her way to the car.

He gravely followed. When she was seated she looked up at him and in a friendly way told him not be concerned.

He knew what she was referring to, but since he was by now more obsessed with something else, he only managed a curt nod. She eyed him, but when he seemed impatient to close the door, she gave up hoping for more response.

Joe seated himself next to the driver. After a few minutes during which he thought he was observing the surroundings while in fact he was checking his mirror, the privacy screen was raised.

´Typical!´ he murmured.

´Sir?´

´Keep your eyes on the road!´ he snapped.

I'm her bloody head of security, how can she expect me to accept that I don't need to know where we are going because her friend's men know all the particulars? Unbelievable!

He sincerely regretted having spoken to her in a raised voice, and had made his apologies for that.

´Colonel Frerer is as discreet as a deaf and blind nun, Joseph,´ she had replied. ´I know that what happened this morning will not be spread through the Castle. I realise too that it must be... strange for you to have someone else's security in charge. Apologies accepted. Don't bring up the subject again.´

Although a difference of opinion between the liege and her head of security was rare enough to make both of them feel uncomfortable when it occured, she hardly seemed affected this time. Her mood was still very good indeed.

Which can only mean one thing, Joe thought, she looks forward to having privacy with B.

When they arrived at the Castle, Charlotte, who welcomed the Queen, asked her if she and her friend would have tea together. The Queen replied in the negative, explaining they would leave instantly.

Can't wait, can you? Joe sulked.

The Queen made it for her suite. Joe repeated his instructions to the three men who would join him to protect Her Majesty. Through his ear-piece the guards at the inner gate informed him that the cars had come through. Joe checked his watch. Right on time. Bastard!

He barked some commands at his men and went upstairs to inform the Queen that her company would arrive shortly.
Halfway he sensed that she was approaching. Looking up he saw that she had changed. She wore a skirt that was shorter than the ones she wore in public, and, his eyes travelled higher, a dark blue turtleneck, that caressed her upper body.

´Your friend's cars have passed the gate, ma'am,´ he managed to say.

´Right on time,´ she merrily said.

The doormen opened the entrance doors.

She'd better not throw herself in his arms.

´You are not going outside to meet your friend are you ma'am?´

´I plan to do so.´

Charlotte saw the look on Joe's face and was relieved that she didn't have to go with them. Fortunately the Queen didn't notice the rage that briefly clouded his features for she was checking her bag.

Joe said something to her and walked off.

Charlotte wondered what words could have caused Her Majesty to look puzzled first, then shocked and finally infuriated.

The Queen followed Joe, but when seeing her assistant, who pretended to be interested in the floor, she inhaled to calm herself. With a smile that didn't reach her eyes, she addressed Charlotte.

´I know you are on schedule with your tasks, so don't think there are things you 'must' do. Enjoy the time-off.´

Charlotte smiled. ´I will ma'am.´

´Good!´

Meanwhile Joe had seen four Fords coming to a stop. The third was heavily armoured.

Men stepped out of the other cars, surveying the surroundings. They were professionals for sure. He didn't feel relieved about that right now, anxious as he was to meet the man he considered to be his rival.

The left door of the third car opened and a man in a military uniform stepped out.

B.

General B.

Handsome general B.

The man walked around the rear of the car when Joe, unaware of his own clenched fists, stopped him.

´I am Her Majesty's security officer.´

´Mr Romero. My name is Ben Coligny. I am Her Majesty's Head of the Military House.´

Joe was speechless. She could at least have informed him of Count Rossano's resignation, even when she didn't want to tell him that she had employed her lover as the Count's substitute.

´B!´ he heard her melodious voice behind him.

He looked B in the eyes, setting his hopes on the power of telepathy. KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF HER!

´C!´

Either B is a very good ventriloquist or...

He looked behind him. An officer had opened the right door of the car and saluted the passenger who stepped out.

The Queen of Genovia embraced her dear friend B. Known to most as the Queen of the Netherlands.