A/N No I didn't abandon it. And now that I'm pretty much finished with this weekend from hell in Windsor, hopefully my updates will come much quicker. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 8

"Miss Alice? May I enter?" I looked up from the website where I was still working on the application to find Clinton in the doorway.

"Um, yes?" I said softly, still not really comfortable with all the formality. With my approval granted, Clinton moved into the room, but remained little more than just inside the door.

"Her Highness will begin the photo shoot soon, and if you would like, there is a place where you could view it while remaining out of sight." He offered. I grinned back at him.

"That's awesome!" I said, quickly exiting the web page and pushing the laptop aside. "Are we going now?" I asked eagerly, to which he just nodded. I started to move towards the door, but Clinton stopped me quickly.

"Your cloak please, Miss Alice."

Duh, Alice! I mentally scolded myself before moving back to the couch where I'd draped the garment. Pulling it back over my shoulders and with the hood in place, I made my way back to where Clinton stood. He led us out into the empty hallway, and only about fifteen feet to the right before stopping beside an antique looking candle holder on the wall. My eyes widened as he pulled it down, unlatching another one of the hidden doors in the place and ushering me inside quickly. Once he'd closed the door behind us, he pulled out a small flashlight, and gestured for me to follow him along the dark pathway. I felt oddly comfortable in his presence, which surprised me. Normally, I wouldn't follow a strong man like him into a pitch black hallway, where no one would find us; but between my eagerness to see Isabella and the feeling of calm he seemed to exude, I didn't think twice about it.

About five minutes later he paused, turning off the flashlight and moving something on the wall to expose a tiny hole. A little bit of light streamed into the darkness, and after a quick inspection, Clinton moved to the side, and motioned for me to look. Peeking through the hole I could see people moving passed quickly, completely oblivious to the tiny hole about waist height. Of course I didn't know what it looked like from the other side. I could be looking out through some dead king's belly button for all I knew.

My thoughts swiftly left my head when I managed to find Isabella across the room. She looked bored and restless, but never the less sat with rigid posture on a formal couch beside the fireplace. A book placed next to her on the cushion. She was wearing casual clothes, tight jeans with a loose top. For a moment I was disappointed. For someone reason when they said photo shoot, I imagined her in a bikini or something equally revealing. I should have known better. This was the Frickin' Princess of Wales, not some Playboy bunny. Though she would look cute with the ears and a little cotton ball tail…hmmm.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt Clinton lean down to speak close to my ear.

"Miss Alice. I must take my leave from you now and return to my duties. I ask that you please do not move from this spot until we return from you." He stated, making it clear that although it was said nicely, it was an order. I nodded my head, sparing him a brief glance as he started back the way we came before I turned to watch again. Things were settling down now, and several people were calling out directions. Isabella put on a smile and the flashes began. She was flawless. If I hadn't seen her previous expression, I would have thought she loved being there. What seemed like only a short time later, the cameras stopped and Isabella was ushered out of the room. I frowned, waiting to see what was going on. Fifteen minutes later, she returned in a different outfit, with new make up, and moved to stand beside a book case, looking out the window. These pictures seemed more serious than the previous ones, with almost a hint of melancholy.

"Okay, last set everyone! Give me the other lense… I need more light!" A balding man in a polo shirt and jeans started yelling. He had two different cameras hanging around his neck, so I assumed he was the photographer. Isabella had disappeared once again, this time returning in a more formal outfit. People were once again rushing around, moving furniture, setting up lights, and God only knows what else. I only had eyes for one person, and she was wearing an absolutely beautiful sundress. Her hair had been done in a lose braid, the end of which hung over one shoulder as she fingered it. I watched as several people ushered her around, constantly hovering around her with make up or lighting gadgets. As was expected, I suppose, Isabella handled it with grace. Not only that, but she would occasionally smile or joke with the frantic people.

As the final pictures were being taken, there was an obvious burst of energy in my princess, genuine smiles forming on her face. When they called a wrap to the shoot, she just about jumped up from her seat and I saw Mark and Clinton move to her sides. Mark leant down briefly to share something and I could have sworn I saw her eyes dart in my direction, but they were all moving out of the room in the next instant and I convinced myself I was seeing things. Sighing, I slid the piece of wood back in place to cover the hole and slid my back down the wall. I guess I just wait now…in the dark.

Not five minutes later I heard footsteps quickly approaching and I stood, waiting to see who was coming. The steps halted just a few feet away, and I could just make out a shadowy figure standing in the hall. It was too dark to see much of anything really. But a moment later I was being swept into a pair of arms and pressed gently back into the wall, a sense of déjà vu coming over me.

"Well, if it isn't my own personal peeping tom…" Isabella chuckled slowly raising my arms over my head and holding them there, while the rest of her body molded into mine.

"Oh Clinton…" I sighed playfully, eliciting something like a growl from Isabella. Roughly pulling on one of my hands, she pressed it against her breast.

"Does that feel like Clinton to you?" She hissed, sending shivers through my body. I felt her nipple hardening against my palm and decided that the time for jokes had ended.

"I wouldn't know." I stated briefly before claiming her lips in a hard kiss. She pushed against me harder, the wood on the wall behind me groaning a bit at the pressure, but I barely felt it. Her mouth dominated my own and I barely registered her hand tugging the back of my thigh upwards. Taking the hint, I wrapped one of my legs around her hip, using it to pull her even closer. I moaned at the feeling of her hand running roughly along my leg. My hips began to make slight rocking motions against her, needing more contact.

"Alice. Oh God, Alice." She breathed softly as I let my hands massage her gorgeous breasts. It was strangely intimate, only being able to feel and not see her, but it wasn't what I wanted for our first time, and by God! This would be our first time! I was done with the waiting.

"I want you. Please. I need to see you." I begged, pulling her down to me so I could suck on her neck while trailing my calf over the curve of her ass. My hands never left her breasts. I wanted to touch as much of her as possible.

"Yesss." She moaned her agreement quietly.

And then she was gone, out of my hold and pulling be behind her. We were practically running when we finally reached the exit. As she had done the day before, Isabella peeked outside briefly before waving me out. Apparently, we'd come back to the same exit as yesterday, as I followed her down the hall and into her room. The sound of the latch clicking into place, signaling that the door had been locked, was all we needed to put us back in motion. I barely even had time to register that Isabella was wearing what she'd left in that morning, although her shirt looked to have been hastily buttoned. The top four undone, allowing my eyes a liberal view of cleavage. It wasn't enough though.

"Thank God! I've been thinking about this since our shower this morning. I barely managed to control myself then." I murmured my agreement, leading Isabella backwards towards her bed as I made quick work of her shirt, pulling it off and throwing it somewhere behind me.

"I know." I agreed, only half paying attention as I nearly clawed off her lace bra in my frenzy. I was so involved, I hadn't even realized that she'd been undressing me at the same time. As we fell onto her bed, a mess of limbs and lips, she was topless and my pants had seemingly disappeared. She bit her lip as I pulled away long enough to take in her gorgeous body. A tiny blush found its way onto her cheeks and I couldn't help laughing.

"Is the princess being shy?" I teased, squealing when she tossed me onto my back, a smirk back on her face.

"Demure isn't really my style, if you hadn't noticed." She stated before claiming my mouth again. The passion which had swept through us in the darkened passageway returned with vengeance and it was all I could do to just keep breathing. Isabella was very talented. My small taste earlier on the couch paled in comparison with the complete adoration she was lathering on my body with now.

"Oh…Oh God! Baby! Yes! Oh, yes!" I murmured, my head thrashing from side to side as my beautiful princess silently went about devouring my sex. Her hands continued to roam my body, skillfully playing it to a crescendo, at which point I was fairly certain half the palace heard me screaming her name. I hope this place has thick walls! Her only response was to hand me a pillow, which I bit into it hard muffling my cries, as she continued her work.

"Isa….Baby. God! So good!" I panted, barely hanging on to my sanity as I felt a second orgasm quickly building. When she finally brought her hands down to assist that heavenly tongue, I made my peace with God, sure I would die from pleasure. In fact, I think I stopped breathing for longer than is advisable.

"FUCK!" I screamed, my hips lifting off the bed as she caressed my inner walls. I looked down to see amusement dancing in her brown eyes. God she was sexy! As the second orgasm washed over my body, I didn't even realize she had moved back up until her hot breath caressed my ear with whispered foreign words.

"Mon Dieu! Vous etes magnifique. Comme un ange. Mon bel ange."

Even with my minimal French language knowledge, I could figure out what she said. The silkiness of her assumed French accent was almost enough on its own to make me cum a third time.

"Mmm, oui. Et tu es incroyable." I hummed, capturing her mouth and pulling her more firmly against me.

"I thought you couldn't speak French?" Isabella asked with a raised eyebrow when we parted.

"I can't really. Just a few things that I picked up." I assured her. "But enough of that. There is a princess I need to attend to…thoroughly." I lowered my voice at the last word, smirking as I noticed Isabella gulp. She tried to hide her nerves behind confidence, but I could see them anyway, and smiled. "Don't worry sweetheart. I'll be nice…the first time."

BPOV

I was happy to discover Alice was just as vigorous and enthusiastic during sex as everything else she did, not that I really expected anything less. She was ferocious, yet gentle in the way she attacked my body. Few had been able to draw the amount of sounds from me that she did, and she seemed exceedingly proud of every squeak and moan elicited.

After the lengthy attentions she bestowed on me, we had finally settled back into the mattress, curled around each other. It was nearing dinner, and I knew at any moment someone would be coming to bring me the food I'd requested after the shoot.

"Alice, we have to get up." I whispered into her hair from where I was spooned behind her.

"Nooo, I'm comfy." She whined, wiggling her ass into my lap, causing a sharp breath to escape me.

"Our supper will be arriving soon and I think they would find our lying naked in bed, upon their entrance, rather shocking."

"You think?" Alice said, and I could hear the smirk in her voice.

Slipping away from her I rolled over, hanging my legs off the raised bed and stretching my hands over my head. A gasp made me look back over my shoulder to see Alice's eyes wide and her mouth open, taking in my lower back.

"You have a tattoo? How am I only just seeing this?" She rushed out, lunging forward to see it better. Honestly, I had no idea. I thought she'd seen it in the shower, but I guess she was too distracted by my front side.

Along my lower back, hidden below the edge of all pants, were two words: onus potestatem. It was small and written in simple black calligraphy.

"What's it mean?" Alice asked, grasping my hips in both her hands and staring down at the words.

"The burden of power." I stated quietly, before turning around to look at Alice, who was waiting patiently for me to continue. "My mother used to use it to describe the responsibility of our duty to the Kingdom." I looked away from the piercing blue eyes to stare at the wall. "I know it sounds kind of…"

"No it doesn't. You're mother sounds like she was very smart. I guess you got that from her, along with her beauty." Alice whispered, in an uncharacteristically subdued moment for the both of us. I tended to shy away from emotional conversations… or lash out in an attempt to stop them, but I didn't feel that urge with Alice. Not now, anyway. Without thinking I fell into her arms, tears coming unbidden to my eyes, but I forced myself not to cry. I had mourned enough over the years, both for my mother and for my own selfish desire of anonymity. It was enough. Alice shushed me, letting me hide away in the crook of her neck while she ran her fingers over my tangled hair.

Our moment was cut short by a knocking on the door. Sniffling a little I pulled back and stood to get my dressing gown while Alice slid off the side of the bed, out of sight from the door.

Once I was covered appropriately I opened the door greeting both the woman wheeling a cart of food and Clinton. Mark was absent tonight.

As soon as they entered, the woman, who must be new since I didn't recognize her, began setting up dishes on my small table. A fairly large pheasant was uncovered with side dishes of boiled potatoes and green beans, along with a steaming boat of gravy. Though it was meant for one person, the portions were plenty large enough to feed two, as I'd hoped.

Clinton held back where I stood, his gaze lingering at my face with a furrowed brow.

"Are you okay, Your Highness?" He asked quietly, mindful of the woman setting up the table. Clearing my throat I carefully swiped at my eyes which I'm sure where slightly red.

"I'm fine. Thank you." I assured him.

Once everything was set, Clinton managed to convince the woman to leave, and made his departure as well, closing the door behind him. Moving towards it, I waited a few moments before turning the lock into place. When I turned around Alice was waiting for me, dressed in her sleep clothes from the night before.

"That's the tiniest chicken I've ever seen." She said in astonishment, causing me to laugh, despite myself. I pulled her into my arms, placing a kiss on her neck. "How are you?" She murmured into my shoulder, hugging me back just as tightly.

"I'm fine." She looked at me skeptically, but I just smiled wider. "Really I'm fine. Just a momentary break down." I tried to make light of it, uncomfortable with being so vulnerable. I hadn't really spoken about my mother much, at least recently. I suppose the reminder just caught me off guard.

"If you say so." Alice said, settling herself into my lap once I'd sat down, and filling the plate in front of us while I wrapped my arms around her waist. I knew she wasn't going to just forget it, but for the moment she was letting it go, and I appreciated that, telling her so with a little squeeze to her waist and a kiss on her arm.

Over dinner, the somber mood finally lifted thanks to Alice's jokes and careful teasing. It was like nothing happened…well after the sex part, I mean. After the dishes had been taken away, Alice and I moved over to couch, where she snuggled against my side and I threw a blanket over our legs.

"You know, I did some reading on your family history today?" She mentioned casually, though its randomness still surprised me.

"And?" I urged, wondering where her train of thought was going.

"Well, there were a couple people who were suspected of being gay, but they never came right out and said it, so people just ignored it…"

"And you thought if it worked for them it would work for us?" I asked somewhat condescendingly. I tried to keep a handle on bitterness festering inside me.

"Not exactly, but…" I cut her off before she could finish.

"Alice, the people you read about lived before there was electronic media; when word of mouth was how gossip got around; but most importantly, it was when the monarch held the most power in the kingdom. Even if not absolute, it was close enough. It's not that way anymore. If I were to hold your hand on the street, the pictures would be all over the world in less than twenty-four hours."

"But you could just say we're friends. They wouldn't know."

"It's too great a risk. I'm sorry." I muttered, starting to pull away when a small hand grabbed my arm pulling me back.

"Please don't leave. I'm sorry. I don't mean to keep bringing it up, I just…"

"I know. I'm sorry for being such arse. I want more than anything to be able to take you out or kiss you on Millennium Bridge, but it's just not an option."

"I understand." She whispered, making me feel even more retched. Taking her hands I turned in my seat so I was looking straight at her.

"Alice, I want you to know that I wouldn't even be taking the risk I am now with just anyone. You're very special to me. You know that right?" She nodded, a smile coming back onto her face. Leaning in, I placed a chaste kiss on her mouth, wrapping her tighter in my arms. "Come on, let's get into bed and I'll tell you a story, since you're so interested in my family history." I said brightly, trying to lift the mood again as I pulled her up.

"Ooo, I love story time." She giggled happily following me onto the bed where we slipped beneath the covers.

"Once upon a time, there was a stalking party."

"A what?" She asked, before I could even really begin.

"A stalking party. It's hunting, you know. Grandma is very fond of it actually."

"The Queen hunts?" Alice asked somewhere between shocked and amused.

"Well mostly she goes to watch, but she takes a few shots sometimes. I used to go when I was younger, but haven't been in a while. I was more fond of riding…Anyway, do you want to hear how my Great Uncle Albert shot his brother by accident or not?" I asked laughing at Alice's expression.

"He shot his brother?"

"Yes, now be patient and I'll tell you the story…" I said, pulling her back into my chest and resting my chin on her shoulder. I was dreading having to leave her in the morning, even more than my tea with Jacob. I suppose I just needed to make this night last.

"Once upon a time there was a stalking party, and my Great Uncle Albert, may he rest in peace, insisted he was going to take the lead even though in his older age he couldn't see but five feet in front of him…"

A/N If there are mistakes in the french translation, it's my fault because I've always been terrible at making agreement with genders. If there's mistakes in the Latin...blame Google. Thanks!