Meg Cabot wrote Princess Diaries and Disney did the movie. This is solely for the enjoyment of fans.
If you have not read Different Worlds, I suggest you do so before reading this. It will refer to many characters in Different Worlds and Worlds Apart follows immediately after as this is the sequel. Please be a dear and leave me a review. Constructive comments are most welcome.
Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy it.
Worlds Apart
Chapter 1
From the terrace café, Joseph sat, lost in thought, watching as the moon slowly climbed above the distant, high mountain peaks that were even now, in late summer, crowned with snow. It hung in the heavens, a shining ball of white-silver, illuminating the night sky of his new home.
How, he wondered,did the queen's garden appear, when lit by moonlight?
In a short time, he would find out.
After Queen Clarisse left the room earlier that afternoon, he announced he would take the job. Johansson, the retiring Head of Security was speechless. Regaining his tongue a minute later, his friend could only manage one word- 'why?'
Why, indeed. Joseph shook his head then sipped his coffee, thinking of his decision.
The pay was far less than any other offers that had poured in after word of his retirement from the British Army got around. Despite the fact that the job entailed working for royalty, it was not as prestigious as some opportunities he'd considered. Interpol had offered him a lucrative position overseeing a large portion of Europe; several private security firms had offered his choice of positions around the world.
While his influence could have reached far and near, a small European country whose fame rested upon pears and lace was now his sole area of responsibility.
On top of it all, Victor told the truth about the security department's shortcomings. He would begin under-staffed and under-funded. Moreover, Joseph had the distinct impression that the department's reputation was just slightly above that of airport security. From what he saw upon arrival, he was inclined to agree.
He tossed a few bills on the table then stood, stretching his back after sitting for so long in thought. The hotel Johansson booked for him was nearby, a short half mile walk along the river. Tomorrow, he would search for an apartment and make the needed arrangements before flying back to London the following day to send his belongings and retrieve his car. Victor would not be retiring for almost two months yet, so Joseph would have time to familiarize himself with the particulars of the job.
In dealing with royals, dignitaries, and the titled upper crust of Europe, he expected many particulars. Handling difficult people in tense situations was one of his strong points; handling people who were just plain difficult was another matter entirely. At least the king and queen seemed to be of even temperament.
His footsteps slowed on the worn cobblestones as the woman's face came to him. He stopped, staring into the rushing water, black and silver in moonlight.
There was only one reason why he was staying.
"One day you will meet her and you'll know…you'll know without a doubt," Micha had told him.
Joseph closed his eyes. Micha was right.
He'd met the one woman he thought he would never find…and she was the wife of his sovereign, she was his queen.
A laugh started in his chest at the irony of it all, but quickly died.
He could never hope to have her. Even were she not married, he was a commoner and did not move in the same circles as Clarisse Renaldi, Queen of Genovia.
They were worlds apart, yet he could not bear to be apart from her world.
Slowly, Joseph walked on.
Nothing had changed, for he would still be alone.
Within a week of being on the job, Joseph knew the problems he faced extended beyond just that of the Royal Security Force. Within two weeks, he knew he was in trouble. He was going to have to overhaul the whole Genovian system. Now, after working at it eighteen hours a day for nearly four months, things were finally looking up, a little.
As Head of Royal Security, he was responsible for all aspects of the royal family's safety and well-being. In this pursuit, he could issue any order he deemed necessary to the Genovian National Police Force, the Border Guard, and the Militia. In view of the fact that they were technically under his control when called upon, no one could countermand his orders and he answered only to King Rupert and Queen Clarisse. While the Genovian Prime Minister had the privilege of requesting information or an explanation of his actions, he had the authority to refuse to answer.
At his post, he was literally above the law.
In studying the country's civil defenses, he found the problem was determining just who did what. Too many edges were blurred; too many responsibilities were unclear. It had been decades, in the militia's case perhaps a century, since objectives and guidelines were updated. Contingency plans were unheard of and no one held reviews of internal procedures. It was, to put it bluntly, a mess.
No serious problems erupted from this negligence only because Genovia was a sleepy, quiet country. But it was, he knew, only a matter of time.
The Border Guard dealt with everything from inspecting agricultural products to impounding improperly registered pets. Passports were rarely processed and there was no way to check incoming airline manifests against Interpol advisories or even the Genovian Police list of undesirables, should the police manage to produce one. The country was basically wide open to anyone who cared to cross its borders for whatever reason, good or bad.
He found the Genovian National Police stretched too thin in some areas, duplicating effort in others. While crime was low throughout the country, as compared to that of its neighbors, statistics showed a slow, but steady increase in property theft. Renewed efforts to contend with it was called for before it got out of hand. While adequately equipped with the very basics, all aspects of the force were in dire need of training to meet modern standards.
The Genovian Militia was the most frustrating of all. Its primary reason for being appeared to be marching in the National Day Parade and holding ceremonial activities where the members dressed in flamboyant costumes. They didn't even have a fatigue uniform, training schedule, or a set of clearly defined responsibilities. As a professional soldier, Joseph found that hard to stomach.
In the early weeks of his tenure, he spoke with each organization's chief officers, carefully gauging how they felt about the situation. Two supported his view on restructuring, but one did not.
The General of the Militia, Rodolfo Bonetti, not surprisingly, preferred the status quo. His was the flashiest uniform of all, being a garish thing with pounds of gold roping and gaudy medals, all set off by epaulettes big enough to serve lunch on. An enormous, matching hat topped the dreadful outfit and the general wore his uniform on every possible occasion. To everyone who would listen, he vowed to fight any changes that Joseph tried to create, and General Bonetti was a man true to his word. So far, the general was winning the war.
Bringing about reorganization meant first convincing King Rupert and Parliament of the need for change. The battle still raged. They accepted his suggestions for the National Police and Border Guard; but the Genovian Militia was one of those units steeped in tradition, as Victor had put it. There was great opposition to making the tiny militia part of a new Department of Civil Defense that he proposed. Many in Parliament were honorary members of the militia and did not want to give up their sash and medals.
Joseph, on the other hand, wasn't about to back down.
A Department of Civil Defense could provide help in times of national disasters or crises more efficiently than the police. It would contain the fire, emergency medical services, and rescue divisions. These three units formerly operated independently and often found themselves performing the same functions. Under his plan, help would be available anywhere in Genovia within minutes. The militia would serve the useful function of augmenting services in times of crises, yet still have the opportunity to parade around on horses and strut about at balls as tradition demanded.
At the same time he was dealing withother departments'concerns, Joseph still had the Royal Security Force to manage. The number of agents in his command desperately needed reinforcing, but there was no money to do so. How was he going to manage it?
A few weeks later, the answer to his manning shortage, at least temporarily, came in the form of a challenge.
It was inevitable that the other law enforcement agencies would invite him to the gym for a few rounds in the boxing ring- everyone wanted a piece of the new guy and his situation was no exception. He was an outsider taking over a prime position near the king…they would want his blood.
He accepted, gladly.
"Are you going to fight with the guys at the police gym?" Shades asked, watching Joseph check his gear bag. His shift was over and he had been chatting with Bates, another agent, to kill time before dinner.
Joseph nodded, tossing a small towel in the bag. "Taking all comers."
Shades sucked in his breath. "You think that's wise, sir?"
"You think it's not?" He looked up and saw the answer in the agent's expression. Shades thought he was crazy. Bates was shaking his head.
"Mind if I come with you, Mr. Coraza?"
"No, not at all." His men would want to know what their boss could do. Victor was retired only two months and he knew judgment was still out on whether they would accept him or not. He was an untried and unknown quantity in their eyes.
Shades went to the locker and yanked twice to get the bent metal door open. He pulled out the small first aid kit then stopped, frowning. He put it back and instead took out the larger one and shoved it in his backpack and zipped it, then turned to Joseph. "Just in case."
It was not, Joseph thought, a vote of confidence.
"For me or for them?" he joked. The young man stared at him blankly. Apparently, subtlety did not work with Shades. "You think I'll get hurt?"
Shades unzipped the backpack. "Right. I'll get a couple cold packs, too. Those guys hit hard."
Joseph sighed and flung his bag over his shoulder. "Let's go."
The first aid kit had come in handy, in fact …for the other guys, mostly. Joseph was gratified to see a flicker of respect in Shades' eyes when he'd climbed out of the ring, weary to the bone, after a nearly two hour workout. In the beginning, men climbed in as fast as one would crawl out. Toward the end, they were less eager to go up against him. When two minutes went by without a challenger, he'd quickly called time, glad for it to end. He might be able to hold his own, but he was not as young as he used to be. He was sore for a week.
However, he did accomplish his goal. Sparring in quick, one and a half minute rounds, he'd carefully noted which men were out to score a point on him and which were more interested in testing themselves against an unknown. There were five of the latter and before he left the gym, he laid claim to all of them to augment his staffing.
They were charged with manning the palace entrances and checkpoints or seeing to other matters such as arrangements with the airport or hotels, which in turn left his agents to accompany the king and queen when out. Once he had a chance to observe them at work and assess their skills, he looked for characteristics he wanted in his own security force. He did this by turning up the heat.
Of the five, four accepted his offer three weeks later to meet again at the police gym for a hand-to-hand workout. Of the four, only two kept their temper when he repeatedly threw them to the mat. He did not want agents who could not maintain control over themselves. Hans and Anton, the two who held their anger and frustration in check, would be assets he was certain, and he intended to transfer the two men to his staff when his budget allowed. The fact that they were over six feet tall and of bodybuilder physique was an added bonus; there were occasions when imposing stature was useful.
In truth, he would rather have a new group of agents he could train to his liking, so was not worried about the impending retirement of several of his agents. With his contacts across Europe, Joseph knew he could fill any number of positions easily. The trouble was in getting the positions.
That reason was precisely why he was now waiting to see His Majesty.
"Sir, Mr. Coraza is here for his appointment."
"Oh, yes. Send him in, please," King Rupert said, rising from behind his desk. He turned to his wife. "My dear, would you care for a cup of tea or a walk? You don't have to stay for this- it only concerns increasing the security force and won't take but a moment. I've made my position known already, but Mr. Coraza is rather insistent about the matter."
Clarisse put away the folder she'd been referring to while she and Rupert were discussing the upcoming session of Parliament. Their new Head of Security had without doubt shaken things up within and without the palace. "I'd like to stay, if you don't mind."
"Of course," Rupert replied, as his aide opened the door.
As before, Clarisse noticed his eyes first. They were light and blue in color and when he looked at her it was as if he were staring straight into her soul.
Fortunately, she rarely had reason to meet him.
She saw him occasionally about the palace, but not frequently during the typical day of office work. If there was a function, he was present, unobtrusively standing several feet away. He accompanied them on trips within Genovia and was at their side when out of the country. In the past months, she'd spoken to him only a few times. Unlike his predecessors, Coraza was very busy.
Ever since that day in the morning room when they'd first met, Clarisse found herself wondering about Joseph Coraza. He seemed, as Victor Johansson said, extremely qualified for the position. As for his personal life, she knew little except that he was retired military who had traveled much and was unmarried. She found that last bit of information unusual; Coraza was a handsome man.
Having returned Rupert's greeting, Joseph turned to her. She fidgeted with her pen nervously then laid it down, suddenly self-conscious.
"Good afternoon, Your Majesty," he said, giving her a slight bow.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Coraza," she replied. He turned back to Rupert and waited and Clarisse let her mind and gaze wander.
Waiting, he stood straight, hands behind his back and she could not fail to discern that their Head of Security was in very good shape. It was his military training, she supposed. He did not shift his weight from foot to foot nervously as some did in their presence. In the few months he'd been in the employ of the palace, she never saw him appear uncomfortable in any situation and he carried himself with a great deal of confidence.
Did women find him pleasant company? Would he meet and marry someone in Genovia, now that he was settling down? Why hadn't he married before? Was there a tragic tale in his past, a lost love, perhaps?
Really, Clarisse! One does not gossip or wonder about an employee!
Quickly, she looked away as her face warmed, feigning interest in a paper in front of her on Rupert's desk.She had her own office, but they were frequently in each other's discussing concerns.
"Coraza, I understand you wish to talk about changes in palace security," Rupert said, settling into his large chair.
She knew Rupert would listen to Coraza, but he'd already made his decision.
"Yes, sir. You have a copy of my proposals, I believe. Do you require I go over any parts of them?"
"No, I've looked them over."
"Do you have any questions, Your Majesty?" He directed the question to Rupert, but Coraza looked her way, including her in the conversation without affronting the king. Unsure of the dynamics at work, he was still feeling his way around the palace, she realized. He would have made a good diplomat.
"You're doing a fine job reorganizing our public services, nevertheless…" Rupert made a face of intense concentration. "In all honesty, I do not understand why you feel security at the palace needs changing. Is it not currently providing adequate protection for my wife and me?" he asked, gesturing to the papers before him. Rupert sat back in his chair and waited.
Coraza hesitated for a moment. Clarisse knew he was choosing his words carefully; her husband had given him an impossible question to answer.
If he answered in the negative, it would be admitting he was not doing his job. If he answered in the positive, it would be admitting there was no need to make the changes. It was rather ill of Rupert to test their Head of Security in such a way.
"Sir, while the current level of protection may have been sufficient in the past, I have reservations about how well suited it is for today's world," he answered slowly. "The old way is no longer adequate. The risk will only increase with delay."
"I see no reason to change," Rupert said, gesturing with his hands.
"Your Majesty, from my experience, I am very aware of the rise in terrorist and subversive activity by dissidents in Europe. There is discontent spreading across the continent and Genovia is not immune, sir. It is my job to safeguard you and the queen from harm or even the possibility of danger. I need more men and equipment to do this properly."
Although he hid it well, she could hear the frustration in Coraza's words.
"Danger? What danger?" Rupert laughed, waving a hand dismissively. "But for the odd nonconformist, we have no problems with anyone attempting to harm us! Come now, sir, aren't you being overly cautious?"
"No, sir. I am not," Coraza replied firmly.
Without speaking, Rupert rose then walked to the window, hands in his pockets. After a moment, he turned, his expression determined. "Sir, your diligence to duty does you credit, however I think the security we have is sufficient. Beef up the guard, post a patrol, if you like, but I do not see need to expand the department."
Clarisse thought it was through sheer willpower alone that Coraza did not dispute Rupert's words.
"As you wish, Your Majesty. Thank you for your time. If you will excuse me," he said evenly. He gave them both a small bow then walked to the door.
Why was Rupert being so unbending about this? Coraza was much more knowledgeable in these matters. Clarisse stood, thoughtfully considering what she'd heard and then spoke, using Coraza's title to jog Rupert's memory, in case he'd forgotten.
"Colonel Coraza, a moment, please."
She went to stand at the side of the desk, hands clasped in front of her at waist level. "Do you feel we are in danger?"
"No, I do not, Your Majesty," he answered reassuringly. "However, it is wise to be prepared so that when a problem occurs, we will be ready…and not wish we had been." His blue eyes held her gaze. Uncomfortable, she looked away to Rupert.
"I don't see how allowing Mr. Coraza to take some precautions could hurt."
Her husband came to stand beside her with a tolerant expression on his face. She found it extremely irritating at that moment.
"Of course, my dear. As I said, the colonel has my full support in restructuring the existing unit as he sees fit." Rupert gave her a patient smile as he crossed the room then opened the door to leave. "Now, I have another meeting to attend. I will see you at dinner, my dear."
He walked out but the aide remained, waiting for Coraza to follow.
"I would like a word with Mr. Coraza," she said, and waited until the aide closed the door, leaving them alone.
Clarisse found Coraza watching her. "Colonel…"
"Joseph, Your Majesty."
"Ah, yes... Joseph. You found Genovia's public safety divisions to be in…disorder, did you not?"
When he did not answer immediately, she added, "Do not fear offending me. I know there are still areas in which we need to make changes."
He moved closer to her, stopping several feet away and rested his hand on the back of one of the Queen Anne chairs opposite the desk.
"When a country develops quickly, as Genovia has, it is understandable that the public services need periodic adjustments to maintain efficiency. I am impressed with the country's growth in technology and I understand it is because of your initiatives."
Clarisse blushed at his words. You are acting like a schoolgirl getting her first compliment from a boy!
"Thank you" she replied calmly. "Bringing about change to our country has not always been easy."
For the first time, she saw him smile. He was a very handsome man.
"Yes, so I've noticed," he replied dryly.
"So you have," she answered, smiling in return. "I'm afraid you will find that to a man, the Genovian leadership embraces change slowly."
"To a man?" His words carried his amusement. "What about you, Ma'am? Do you embrace change slowly?"
She lifted her chin. "No. I believe change and progress does not have to be at the expense of traditions or a people's way of life."
He looked at her, half smiling, before inclining his head a fraction. "I count myself fortunate to have Your Majesty as an ally."
Clarisse had no answer, but felt her face warm yet again. Joseph dropped his hand to his side. "If there is nothing else…"
Clarisse shook her head. "No, not at present, Joseph. Thank you for your candor."
"You are most welcome. Good day, Ma'am."
The door closed behind him and Clarisse blinked. She needed a walk in the garden to clear her thoughts.
The security forces' headquarters in the palace was a storage room that was partially cleared to make room for their desk , three chairs, and two lockers. In the early weeks, he'd managed to get all three phone lines working and the computer upgraded. The surveillance cameras required extensive rewiring, but two now functioned properly and the other two would be working soon.
The room opened to a hallway than ran the length of the east wing, and one day he hoped to have several of the rooms off the hallway turned into an office for him, storerooms for equipment, two sleeping quarters, a meeting room, and other essential spaces. At the present, there was just the one room…or, rather part of a room.
Joseph stared at the bales of toilet paper and boxes of toilet cleaner that still graced his command center. He and the Head of Housekeeping, Miss Parker, a dragon of a lady who did not top five feet in height but came close to it in width, had clashed over the matter when he'd come upon her in the palace foyer one day and asked about moving them.
"Upon me grave, there's not another place better suited to store them supplies and it's the truth that they've been stored in that very spot since the loos were installed and they'll be there until the day I draws me last breath! You understand that I'm not about to be stacking them here and there, scattered about the queen's own palace where everyone might see them," she'd added superiorly, as if he'd asked her to pile them by the front door. She stuck her hands on her hips and waited as the listening crowd grew.
"Miss Parker, I-"
Taking a deep breath, she launched her second, scathing attack. "This palace has been running just fine for nigh on several centuries now and it's just like a know-it-all outsider to come waltzing in here with his high and mighty ideas-"
"Ma'am, it's just toilet pa-"
"-him trying to change things without any respect for people's traditions, which shows you just what the world is coming to and it's nothing less than a crying shame and a downright pity, that's what it is!"
Given in front of his entire staff and a goodly portion of her own, her harangue went on for another full three minutes and so impressed him that he'd listened in awed and amused admiration, then with as much dignity as possible, he acquiesced- the toilet paper stayed.
With his focus on reorganizing the civil departments and maintaining security for the royals, he had spent little time with the heads of each department. Creating an uproar and division among personell would be counter-productive. Besides, Miss Parker was not someone he wished to take on…not yet. He would work at getting in her good graces, instead.
Determined to make efficient use of whatever resources were available, Joseph turned to the palace staff. If trained properly, they could be a valuable asset to his work by simply keeping a sharp out eye for anything out of the ordinary. He could include self-defense training for the women, if they wished. Surely, Miss Parker could not object to that, he reasoned. Having the staff assist would help him greatly.
To that end, two weeks later, he requested a meeting of the supervisors of the major departments.
"I don't know," Victor Johansson said,as they walked down the steps to the employee parking lot. He had stopped by to see how Joseph was getting along before leaving on a month-long trip to visit relatives in Germany. "You don't want to get Miss Parker riled."
"I think I can handle her."
"So I heard!" Victor replied with a laugh.
Joseph waved his hand dismissively. "I didn't want to create ill feelings, is all."
"Smart move, very wise," Victor said, trying to keep a straight face. "Did I tell you what happened my first week here, after I insisted her priceless toilet paper be moved?"
"No, but what could happen? Her department is simply sweeping, dusting...making beds."
Johansson stopped dead in his tracks, a stern expression on his face. "Not just anything, Joseph. You ever noticed how brown and uneven the floor is in there?"
"I assumed it was because we are on the lower level and-"
"No. Those tiles are supposed to be white. For the next two weeks after my unfortunate run in with Miss Parker, her underlings applied gallons of floor wax here and there around the room, hallway, and steps, all unmarked and unannounced. It was like maneuvering through a minefield! Everyday we never knew when we were going to step on a sticky spot. Once on our shoes, it spread and we stuck with every step. Couldn't walk through the palace like that, had to clean our shoes constantly and it got on our equipment, the cars…everywhere."
Joseph shrugged. "Surely, we can find a place for-"
"Look over by the desk. You'll see imprints of shoes and a few with pieces of the soles…ask Shades how they got there."
"What?"
"Just take my advice. If you insist on Miss Parker moving her toilet paper, then don't stand in one spot too long," Victor said gravely, "or they'll be prying you out of hardened wax with a flat-headed screw driver, too."
With that, Victor bid Joseph goodbye and good luck.
Thirty minutes later, the department heads had gathered in the security room at his request and listened silently as he explained his idea. So far, no one seemed much taken with it. While Joseph waited for their reaction, he glanced about the floor. Just as Victor said, there were imprints of shoes scattered about the room like fossil tracks. There was half a sole stuck in one beside the desk.
"Mr. Coraza, do I understand you to say that you want to teach the staff to guard Their Majesties?" Cates, the butler asked.
"No, not at all," he replied, pulling his attention back to the staff. "What I wish to do is educate the employees in ways they might help us keep a closer watch on what is occurring in the palace. The staff is in daily contact with a number of visitors, delivery persons, workmen, and so on. If shown how to observe for unusual-"
"Mr. Cordanza, are you implying me staff doesn't keep an eye out for those what might be troublemakers?" Miss Parker asked, coming to her feet and waddling closer to where he stood. "Furthermore, me girls work hard and have no time to be doing the work what's been assigned to your men!"
"Miss Parker, this does not require any extra wor-"
"Me girls keep this palace a proper home for Their Majesties and it's a full-time job, it is, Mr. Cordoba," she said loftily, drawing herself up as tall as possible, which was about level with Joseph's armpits. She glared up at him, her white hat bobbing as she continued, gathering steam. "The Housekeeping staff works from before sun-up 'till after sundown then into the night and has no time to waste, unlike some staff what has time to sit and watch the telly screen all hours of the day!"
The look she shot towards Shades, at the monitor, was a hard one. Shades slunk a bit lower in his seat with his coffee and pretended not to have heard her.
"Ma'am, they monitor-"
"And what's more, I'll not have me good girls wearin' no knife in their knickers!"
There was a gasp followed by a coughing spasm by Shades, for which Anton helpfully pounded him vigorously on the back. Cates expression never changed, but his face was a bright red.
"Knife in their- Miss Parker, what are you talking about?" Joseph demanded incredulously.
"I know you spy types- walking around wearing an arsenal of weapons and such! Why, just the other day the queen's maids was having a time trying to cut open a box when that Mr. Anton over there-" said agent tried to make his six-two frame half its size "-whipped out a blade as big as me arm and-"
"Miss Parker, let me assure you-"
"You're one to speak! What with you wearing that gun on your chest and one in your pocket!"
"Ma'am, there is no gun in my pock-" Joseph stopped suddenly, embarrassed.
In the corner, Anton and Shades snickered while Cates and the other supervisors studied their shoes, shoulders shaking.
"And furthermore, Mr. Corzada," Miss Parker declared, sucking in a quick breath, coming to a crescendo, "me girls won't be letting you put them metal brassieres 'round they chests, and neither will you be touching me own bosoms!"
The very thought of such an experience involving the Head of Housekeeping robbed Joseph of speech.
"Interloper!" Miss Parker huffed, driving the wooden stake deep. Despite her height, she managed to look down her nose at him then spun on her heel and left.
There was silence for a very long moment.
"I think I'm lucky to have lived through that," Joseph finally said.
Cates cleared his throat. "Yes, sir."
"Last month, sir, she gave me four and a half minutes of blistering for letting the chrysanthemum blooms shed on the entranceway table," Manuel, the Chief Gardener said, his voice just above a whisper. "Tracked me to the manure pile, she did. I'd rather have to tell the queen her roses have aphids than go through that again!"
"Well," Joseph said, shaking his head, "she made her position clear."
Cates stepped forward. "Mr. Coraza, my staff will cooperate in any way we can."
"Thank you, Cates," Joseph replied.
"Same with the garage staff- although I don't know what it is we can do," the head mechanic offered.
"If my grounds keeping staff reports anything odd, I will tell you," Manuel added.
"Thank you, gentlemen. For the moment, that will have to suffice."
The men left and Joseph sat down on a case of toilet paper. His upcoming trip out of the country with King Rupert - and away from Miss Parker- was just what he needed. Perhaps, if he were lucky, the king would decide to extend his trip.