"Your Majesty!" Frederick's voice called the Queen, before the guard came to a stop beside Marissa. "Why did you run off?" he asked, trying to follow the Queen's gaze with his eyes, to see what the woman was watching so closely. He spotted only the quickly retreating carriage of Queen Ariana.

"I just wanted to see what was going to happen," explained Marissa, turning her eyes from the trees between which the elephant carrying the blonde girl had disappeared.

Frederick acknowledged the explanation with a short nod, although he wasn't certain if the Queen noticed. Her look was absent even as she looked up at her guard's face. "We should be getting back, Your Majesty," said Frederick, trying to bring the Queen back down to Earth from wherever her mind was wandering around. "The King and Queen are arranging for the guests to return to the castle. The party has, naturally, been cut short, but the guests are demanding an explanation."

Marissa had turned to look away again.

"They're gathering in the ball room again," Frederick tried to get her attention once more. "Your Majesty!"

"Hein?*" asked Marissa, surprised at the man's louder tone, suddenly back from her thoughts.

"I said we should return to the castle, my Queen," repeated Frederick, slightly amused by the Queen's behaviour. His failed attempt to conceal his mirth was met with a playful smirk from Marissa.

"I will not have you laughing at me, Frederick," she told the man as she made her way past him, back towards the castle, carefully making sure she didn't brush against him.

"Of course not, my Queen," Frederick was quick to apologize, although he had detected the lack of disapproval in the Queen's tone. "Forgive me."

This time it was Marissa who gave a short light laugh.

While the King and Queen tried to explain the interruption of the wedding, Marissa found it difficult to pay attention. Everyone had settled back into the ball room. In the silence that was by no means holy anymore but instead intense and full of curiosity, the King's clear speech, that was sometimes enhanced by Queen Danielle's comments, met everyone's ears except for Marissa's.

She saw how anxious Princess Luciana was but obviously not because the wedding was called off. All three Princesses looked quite scared when told about Queen Ariana's scheme. The Prince had returned with an immensely grateful raven-haired young lady by his side.

Apart from noticing these things about the local royals, Marissa couldn't bring herself to concentrate on the current situation. For some reason she felt hollow and sorrowful. She should have been glad that the arranged marriage of the two young royals had not happened, at least it was being postponed, but Marissa did not feel happy. She felt sad for some reason, and whenever she tried to figure out why, her thoughts returned to the blonde girl she had seen exposing Ariana's plot and later riding off on her elephant. She couldn't even figure out how she knew the girl, let alone why she felt so empty inside now that the young girl was gone.

For reasons unknown to her, Marissa tried to find comfort in some happy memories, and her thoughts travelled back to the engagement ball when she had danced with Frederick. But before her heart could leap at the beautiful memory, the same blonde girl invaded her mind again. No matter how hard Marissa tried to focus on something else, the girl's face and voice stayed resolutely in Marissa's mind.

Unbeknownst to her, Marissa had started to slightly shake her head, looking absently at her hands in her lap. What she also hadn't noticed was Frederick, who was standing beside her chair, watching her with deep concern in his brown eyes.

For no specific reason, or so it seemed, a memory of her late husband pushed into Marissa's mind. He was alone, in their old sitting room, smiling. The memory that had appeared from out of nowhere hurt Marissa more than it ever had throughout the last few years. In her desperation to get the image out of her mind, Marissa sighed deeply, but the effort didn't help. Only when a large gentle hand took her by the shoulder did Marissa wake from her trance.

"My Queen," spoke Frederick's kind voice and Marissa looked up at the man crouching next to her, her eyes wide with unusual fear. "I dearly believe you are unwell," Frederick continued in a small voice, so as to not gain unwanted attention from anyone. "Perhaps we should leave."

"There's no need to," replied Marissa quickly, gaining her composure with unbelievable speed. "I would rather stay and hear what happened to Ariana, once there are news." By miracle, it seemed, the awful fantasies had instantaneously disappeared when Frederick had come to her rescue.

"There is no shame in leaving now and getting news second-hand," Frederick tried to convince his Queen, worry still evident in his tone.

Marissa was touched by the man's attempts to help her, but having just come out of a very emotional state, her professional self wanted to be heard. "I am well aware of that, Frederick. But I say whether I want to leave or not. And you are not the one to tell me what I should or shouldn't do."

This came out much more harshly than Marissa had intended for it to sound. Frederick stood up again and drew his hand from its sacred place on the Queen's shoulder. Instantly Marissa understood the mistake in her selection of words, and she, also, stood. Thankfully, the King had just finished and left the ball room with his son and wife, and most of the guests had gotten up and started to make their way out; so no one noticed Queen Marissa jumping up from her seat.

"Oh, Frederick," Marissa started, taking one of Frederick's hands in both of hers, "I should not have said that to you." It was some relief that Frederick didn't pull away from her, but when he spoke, his tone held none of the affection it had only a moment ago.

"It was not my place, Your Majesty, you were right," he said, his eyes not meeting Marissa's.

"S'il vous plaît,** Frederick," Marissa said, almost a pleading tone in her voice. "Don't be so cold. I didn't mean to tell you off like that. Surely you can forgive a woman her small caprice?"

With considerably less reluctance than he had intended to, Frederick looked down at the Queen's hopeful and sad face, beautiful in its uncertainty. He couldn't look into these wide expectant eyes with anger; the small white hands that gripped at his were cold with excitement. His look softened when he looked at the Queen, and he took her hands in his tenderly. "My Queen," he said, and this title pleased the both of them a ton more than the cold "Majesty". "You have no caprices," Frederick told her, smiling.

Marissa smiled back at him happily, deciding she didn't need to reply.

* "What?"

** "Please,"