A/N: If you asked me two months ago what my 30th (!) fanfic would look like, I never would have said it would be A/U. But, here we are, at fic number 30, and it's an A/U response to the GSRFO May/June Challenge. I took the Royal Wedding prompt.

To give fair credit, I am borrowing some ideas from the Spanish royal family. I lived in Spain during the year after Prince Felipe and Princess Letizia got married, so portions of what you'll read in subsequent chapters come from some of what I observed while I was there. And, of course, plenty is borrowed from my very US view of the British royal family. And, finally, as always, I do not own anything related to CSI.

This is my very first A/U story, and I really hope you'll enjoy it. As much as I've taken the characters outside their normal playground, I'm trying very, very hard to be true to who they are. Please let me know what you think!

Police Headquarters, Downtown Wendelsburg

"Explain to me again why I'm doing this."

Nick looked at his friend and coworker and chuckled. "Because something like one person a year receives this award. Going to the ceremony is a big deal."

"Exactly one person a year receives this award," Greg corrected. "And, you have to be invited to the ceremony. If you aren't invited, you're stuck watching it at home."

"Or, not at all."

"Aw, Sara, come on …"

Sara rolled her eyes. "The Prince of Graccia Award, though? Really? Why, exactly, is that his title? The country is called Vespuccin, not Graccia."

Nick looked at her in disbelief. "You did grow up here, right?"

"The Prince of Graccia is called that because it was the original name of the kingdom before it was invaded, reconquered and then expanded," Greg explained. "It is the title given to the crown prince or princess, who will inherit the throne upon the current monarch's death."

"She knows that," Jim said. "She's just being difficult."

"And, she's an anti-monarchist," Sara added helpfully.

"Well, you may not like the monarchy, but I know you like being employed," Jim said. "And, no matter what these two tell you about the Prince of Graccia Award, here's what it comes down to: Ecklie is receiving the award. Ecklie is my boss. I am your boss. We all want to keep things that way, so we are all going to the ceremony." He looked straight at Sara. "Am I right?"

Sara sighed, knowing exactly what Jim was implying. She needed to stay on Ecklie's good side after what had happened during their last case. "You're right," she acknowledged.

"And, we are going to be pleasant," Jim added.

"Fine," she said with a sigh. She paused in front of the locker room mirror to pull her hair back into a ponytail. "I'm ready."

Nick and Greg exchanged a look and shook their heads.

"What?" Sara asked.

Greg looked at her in amused disbelief. "You put on that knock-out dress, then put your hair in a ponytail?"

"Yeah," Sara said, looking at him as though confused.

"But …"

Nick clapped his hand down on Greg's shoulder. "Let it go, man. Just let it go."

Royal Palace, Wendelsburg

"You do realize how much I hate doing these things, right?

"You do realize that it's about five minutes out of your day, right?"

"Wrong," Gil said flatly. "There will be at least five minutes of pictures after the five minute ceremony – which could be longer if the acceptance speech is longer – , followed by at least fifteen minutes of people shaking my hand."

Catherine chuckled. "Oh, the rough life you lead, Your Majesty."

"That's Father, not me." He looked a little pale. "And, God willing, it will stay that way for quite some time."

"Sorry." She smiled. "You know that Father is as healthy as he ever was. I'm sure you've got a long road of being Prince of Graccia ahead of you."

Gil smiled slightly. "Which I would enjoy considerably more if it weren't for things like today." His eyes lit up. "You could go for me, you know."

"Oh, no, I couldn't. It's called the 'Prince of Graccia Award,' not the 'Prince of Graccia's Younger Sister Award.' You have to be there."

"Please, Catherine? Everyone loves you more than me."

"No, they don't. Not even Grandmother loved me more than you, and I was named for her. If the people love me at all, it's because I'm married and have a child – which, I believe, is some small relief to them."

He rolled his eyes. "Are we having this conversation again?"

She stood up and smiled. "No. I'll leave it to Mother."

"You're too good to me."

She leaned down to kiss the top of his head. "Get ready. The ceremony starts in half an hour."

Sara sat in the second row for the ceremony, sandwiched between Greg and Nick. She had deliberately made sure she was not sitting next to Jim. It wasn't that she intended to be unpleasant during the ceremony, but she was concerned that a less than complimentary comment might slip out in his hearing. Ecklie's family – his wife, two daughters, brother and mother – were seated in front of them, which Nick reminded her with a pointed look. She sighed. So much for any hope of commentary …

Promptly at two thirty, amid many camera flashes, the Prince of Graccia made his way to the podium. He gave a small smile to those gathered before him.

"Good afternoon," he said in a rich, mellow voice. "We have come together today to honor the accomplishments of Conrad Ecklie, Commander of the International Police Force. He has spent a great deal of time this year working with the people of Haiti as they rebuild their nation after a devastating earthquake. His tireless efforts, as well as those of his team, have helped to keep the country peaceful, and to ensure that all reconstruction and recovery projects have been allowed to progress without interruption."

He paused, and glanced around the small crowd. His eyes fell on a young woman, seated in the second row, who was watching him with wide eyes. She appeared to be drinking in his every word. He almost frowned at the look on her face – it was a look that was almost always given to his father, but almost never to him.

Then, allowing his gaze to open, he realized how lovely she was. Beautiful, really. He wondered who she was …

A discreet cough behind him told him that he had paused too long. He swallowed and closed his eyes briefly to take his focus away from the woman in the second row.

"As one would expect from an officer of the law, Commander Ecklie was tasked with preserving order while in Haiti," he continued with his memorized speech. "He performed his duties admirably; the crime rate was cut by nearly 50 percent during his tenure. However, that is far from all he did.

"Commander Ecklie himself aided in the physical reconstruction of the Haitian capital. He, along with his team, helped to rebuild both the hospital and school that once stood in one of the poorest sections of Port au Prince. He also worked closely with both medical staff and clergy to make sure that hospitals and field hospitals were working to their full potential." He smiled slightly. "I can say from personal experience that he was not above calling us here in Vespuccin to ask for additional resources when they were necessary."

The crowd smiled appreciatively.

"Commander Ecklie, I salute you for your efforts over the past year," the Prince said. "You have gone above and beyond the call of duty, and we thank you for allowing the spirit and generosity of Vespuccin to be felt so far away. I hereby present you with the Prince of Graccia Award as some small compensation for all you have done."

Ecklie shook the Prince's hand and accepted the award. The Prince then stepped back so that Ecklie could make an acceptance speech.

Sara did not hear a word of it. She was too focused on the man who had presented the award to worry about the man who had received it.

She had already known that the Prince of Graccia was handsome. His picture, like those of the rest of his family, could be found in any one of a hundred places around town. And, she, like all the citizens of Vespuccin, received a holiday greeting card from the royal family annually, generally bearing a picture of all of them together. Photographic evidence aside, she knew that the magazines would not have proclaimed him "Europe's Most Eligible Prince" if he had not been attractive.

But, to see him in person …

She was stunned by how attractive he was. She could not stop looking at his eyes. From her second row seat, she could see how blue they were – they reminded her of the ocean she had looked at so frequently while they were working in Haiti.

Physical attributes aside, his speech had dazzled her. He had not used so much as a notecard to remind him of what he was to say, but had managed to detail Ecklie's accomplishments – the team's accomplishments, as Ecklie was saying in his acceptance speech – amazingly well.

She had to meet him. She had to talk to him – to tell him how impressed she was with his speech.

"Hey," she whispered, nudging Nick, "do you think we'll get to talk to him?"

"Ecklie?" he asked. "More than we'd like, I'm sure."

"No, not –"

Applause broke out again as Ecklie ended his speech. Sara and Nick stopped their whispered consultation to join in.

"Thank you again, Commander, for your service," the Prince said.

Those words were a clear signal that the ceremony had ended. There was a moment of general commotion as the attendees left their chairs and were ushered into the next room for a reception.

After having done so many of these ceremonies, Gil was well acquainted with the program. He gave a speech and the award, listened to the recipient's speech, took pictures at the podium with the recipient, then followed the others into the second room for the reception. He would greet as many people as possible, pose for a few more pictures, then, just before the gathering ended, he would be hurried away by his security detail. Because this ceremony was at the palace and she had been there earlier, Catherine would likely be waiting to greet him and to hear all about the ceremony. He had begun giving the Prince of Graccia Award at the age of 18, and nothing had changed in the program since then.

For the first time, he wanted to change it.

He did not want to stay and pose for pictures with Commander Ecklie. He wanted to follow the rest of the guests into the reception room. He wanted to find the woman from the second row – the one with the big brown eyes and the ponytail. He wanted to find out her name. Who she was. Why she was here. If she would have dinner with him.

He blushed slightly as the last thought crossed his mind. He could not remember the last time he had asked a woman to have dinner with him. He had certainly never asked a woman to have dinner with him without knowing in advance that she would say yes. The very idea of asking this woman such a question was terrifying.

And, yet …

He wanted to try.

"So," Greg said as they accepted glasses of champagne from a woman passing with a tray, "what did you think of your first Prince of Graccia Award ceremony?"

Sara rolled her eyes. "Look, Mr. Experience, I'm pretty sure it was your first, too."

"Yes, but, unlike you, I read up on it before we went."

"Or, you, unlike Sara, paid attention in school," Nick said with a chuckle. "Honestly, Sara, you're acting like you have no idea how things work in this country."

"I think that things like this are …" Sara's voice trailed off as the memory of the Prince's blue eyes flashed in her mind.

"Antiquated?" Jim provided. "You tell us all the time."

Sara smiled helplessly. It was true: she did believe that the idea of the monarchy was antiquated. The country was governed by elected officials; the monarchs did little other than provide a link to a bloody, violent, inbred past. She could not understand the country's fascination with them.

Yet, she also could not understand how someone like the Prince of Graccia could be considered antiquated, bloody, violent or inbred – even by someone like her.

The photos finally ended, and Gil led the Commander to the reception room.

"Thank you again, Your Highness," Ecklie said as they passed from one room to the next.

"No," Gil said sincerely, "thank you, Commander. I meant what I said. You brought the spirit and generosity of our country to Haiti in a way that I and my family were not able. For that, we are very, very grateful."

Ecklie smiled and gave a bow. "Your Highness."

"Commander."

Ecklie was set upon immediately by several from his team. Thrilled with the freedom of having a moment to look around the room, Gil searched for the woman from the second row. He could not find her immediately, and felt a moment of panic that she had already gone.

He crossed the room to find his head of security standing by the main door. "Hello, Harold."

"Your Highness," he said, bowing slightly. "Everything is going exactly according to plan."

Gil nodded his approval. "Has anyone left the reception?"

"No, Sir, not yet. You can greet as many as you'd like."

He nodded again. "Thank you, Harold."

He turned away from Harold and surveyed the room. She has to be here … somewhere …

As soon as Ecklie came into the room, the rest of the team surged toward him, eager to offer their congratulations. Sara faded back, not wanting to be any closer to Ecklie than she needed to be. He still wasn't thrilled with her for going against him on their most recent case since returning from Haiti. The fact that she had been right only made it worse. Part of her knew that he would want to have her congratulations on his award. And, she would, indeed, congratulate him. She would just prefer to do it in a card. He knew that she was at the ceremony. That would have to be good enough for now.

She found her way to the far corner of the room, where a window looked down on the most amazing garden she had ever seen. Just stopping herself from gasping, she stared out the window until she almost felt mesmerized.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Sara jumped and turned to see the Prince of Graccia standing next to her. She gasped and immediately dropped into a curtsey.

"Your Highness."

He smiled as she rose up to meet his eyes. "May I know your name?"

"Sara," she said, her cheeks flushing at his attention.

"Just Sara?"

"Sara Sidle."

"It's very nice to meet you, Ms. Sidle," he said.

"It's very nice to meet you as well, Sir."

"How do you know the Commander?" he asked, nodding in Ecklie's direction.

"I'm a member of his team," she said. "I'm a forensic scientist."

Gil's eyes widened. "You were in Haiti with him?"

"Yes."

He reached out to shake her hand. "Thank you, Ms. Sidle, for all you've done for the people of Haiti on our behalf."

She blushed an even deeper shade of red. "I merely did my job, Sir."

"Even if you did not choose that particular assignment, you did choose a profession that provides a valuable service. It is a very noble thing to choose to help others."

"Thank you."

He smiled sadly. "Sometimes I wish …"

Sara desperately wanted to ask him to finish the statement, but knew she could not.

"Well," he said, collecting himself. "Have you been to a ceremony like this one before?"

"No," Sara said. "Your speech was just wonderful, though. You recalled all the details so well. It was very impressive."

He smiled slightly. "My one talent: memorization. I've been working on committing that speech to memory for two days. I'm glad to see that it was time well spent."

"It certainly was."

"Your Highness?"

Gil looked up at the words from Harold. "Yes, Harold?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Sir, but we need to move out."

Gil nodded. "I understand."

"I'll be over here, Sir."

As Harold walked a few steps away, Gil turned to Sara. "I'm sorry to have to leave you so soon, Ms. Sidle. It has been a pleasure."

"Sara," she almost stammered. "Call me Sara, Your Highness."

He smiled. "Then, you must call me Gilbert – Gil, if you'd like."

All the color drained from Sara's face, then returned in full force. "Okay," she managed to choke out.

He gave her a smile and a wink. "Until next time."

He vanished before her eyes, converged upon by the security detail that would move him safely to the residential part of the palace.

Sara stood rooted to her spot, unable to move even after he was gone.