Chapter 1: Turning up the heat
A certain young princess wandered down the hall of the Genovian Embassy in London, where she was staying with her body guard Lars before heading to Genovia. The Embassy was nothing like the one in San Francisco. It was a cold and dreary building, more like a warehouse than a home for a Princess.
Mia had been here for almost a week. She wasn't entirely sure why she was here. As far as she knew she was supposed to have been in Genovia. But with the American war on Terrorism, and Genovia's neutral position, it was hard for the American princess of Genovia to travel between the two.
Mia turned the corner into her room and fell on to the twin bed that stood against the wall near the only window. She could hear Lars talking on his cell phone in the adjoining room. His bed creaked and he appeared in the door way, holding out the phone towards her.
"It's Joe, wants to know if you have your Genovian passport with you."
"Ummm no, I don't even have a Genovian passport." Lars retreated into his room mumbling into his phone. As both Lars and Joe spoke an assortment of languages, Mia could never tell what they were saying, not even what language they were speaking. They switched constantly from French, to English, to Japanese or something else, in order to confuse anyone that shouldn't be listening. Lars reappeared in the doorway, shaking his head.
"Your grandmother is going to call you in 10 minutes on the Embassy phone, so you'd better get down to the office." Mia rolled of the bed and began to stroll down the hallway. She stopped where another hallway veered off and looked back at Lars for direction. He was pointing right and laughing, trust Mia to not know her way around after a whole week. He took off after her, not wanting to be responsible for her getting lost.
In Genovia Clarisse Renaldi was anxiously watching the clock, she wanted to call in precisely ten minutes. This whole neutral position thing was really taking a toll on her. Mr. Bush was very persuasive. He wanted to be able to use the Genovian ports, and as of yet Genovian parliament had refused. But the whole situation was making it very difficult to have an American Princess, even more so an American Princess who was approaching her coronation.
Seven more minutes, Clarisse tapped her fingers impatiently against her oak desk. She hadn't even gotten dressed yet. All morning had been consumed with Mia. And here it was approaching noon!
Clarrise yawned, she was getting very warm in her silk robe and cotton pajamas. She glanced over her shoulder and seeing no one around took of the robe. That was better. She dropped the robe onto the floor of her office and turned around to stare at the clock some more. She drummed her fingers on her desk, rocking slightly on her revolving chair. When had she become this impatient?
She sighed, the glaring July sun coming through her window was melting her. Clarisse giggled to herself. She could always take off her pajama top, she did have a camisole underneath it. The very idea made her shiver. In the back of her mind was a news paper headline, about a certain Genovian Royal, at a certain beach party. But she shook the thought back. She was in her office, in her private quarters. No one ever entered them without knocking. She was perfectly safe.
The Queen slowly unbuttoned her top, continually checking behind her, even though she knew perfectly well no one was there. She glanced at the clock, three minutes. She would put her shirt back on before she called Mia. It would be a little odd to talk to her granddaughter wearing nothing but a skin colored under shirt.
She rested her head against the head rest, trying to think of something reassuring to tell Mia. Suddenly she heard the door behind her open.
"Don't let me intrude upon your... sunbathing, your Majesty," said a certain male voice.