A/N : Hi everybody! I'm so glad that you are all enjoying this story. All your reviews really spur me on to keep writing and quickly too! (I must be mad updating this often!)

Thanx to ndblue123, angelica358, little-princess, max4cast, stargirl888, reyn, princess miki, sapofbks2002, swimcc, Meg*, Roxy, CrazyNut2002 and my two anonymous reviewers for all the kind words and encouragement - you lot are the ones who make writing and posting stories so enjoyable, but please don't keep threatening to die on me - I am updating as fast as I can!

Anyway, I know you are all impatient to see what happens next so, on with the story...

Disclaimer : Prince Phillippe Michael Renaldo is my invention, all the others belong to Meg Cabot (and I'm not her!)

A tap on the door brought Mia back to her senses.

"Who is it?" she sniffed.

"Mom?" came the reply, "Are you okay?"

The queen moved over to her mirror and quickly wiped away her tears and tried to make herslef presentable.

"Yes, I'm fine" she called to her son, before moving over to the door and opening it with a fake smile on her face.

"I thought you were reading your mail?" she asked him. He gave her a strange look. He was pretty sure she was lying about being okay. He could see she had been crying and he wasnted to know why.

"Mom, who was that letter from?"

"What letter?" Mia answered quickly.

"The letter Lars gave you. It obviously upset you, I can alwyas tell when you've been crying"

Amelia took her son's hand and walked with him down the corridor.

"Phillippe there is something that I need to tell you adn I want you to be grown up and sensible about it" she said, deperately trying not to braek down into tears again. Phillippe was not sure what was going on but whatevr it was he had a feeling he wasn't going to like it. His mother led him off down another hallway and the two ended up outside a door that had had Phaillippe mystified since he was a child. He remebered that he had asked once what was in the room behind this door. He remebered only too well how upset his mother had been about his wanting to know what was there and now it seemed he was about to find out why.

He watched as Mia took the lockety from her around her neck and turned it in her hand. From inside the locket a key appeared and fitted perfectly into the lock of the door. Without a word the door was opened and his mother ushered Phillippe inside.

It was a simple room - probably the smallest and simplest room in the house, Phillippe thought to himself. He heard his mother close the door behind him as he took in the room. One small window let in minimal light as the night drew in, a chair sat in one carner of the room with a small table next to it and the only other item in the room was a chest. It looked like an old tresure chest, Phillippe observed as he watched his mother use the same key to open it that she had used to open the door to the room.

"Sit down, sweethaert" she said to her son, who complied by placing himself on the single chair in the coener. Mia leant over the chaest and pulled out a photograph, her favourite photograph of the love of her life - Michael Moscovitz.

She carried the photgraph over to her son and placed it in his hands. Phillippe looked at it carefully and observed a young man, probably in his early twenties, with dark hair and a big smile. He looked like a nice guy but Phillippe did not understand what this picture or this man had to do with him or his mother.

"Phillippe," his mother began, "the man in that photograph, his name is Michael and I knew him years ago"

"He was a friend of yours when yoiu were young?" Phillippe guessed.

"Yes" Mia smiled, "he was one of my best friends, in fact he was..." she did not know how to phrase it.

"Your boyfriend?" Phillippe guessed correctlty again. Mia did not answer, she only nodded. She swallowed hrad and took a deep braeth before she could speak again.

"Michael was very special to me and we were togther a long time, but we had to break up..." she trailed off. This was harder than she could vere have imagined. Phillippe was trying to help her but he was cluelses as to what she was trying to say.

"So you guys broke up and then you got together with my Dad" he tried.

"Yes, well, no, yes but not exactly..." Mia rambled before deciding the only way she was ever going to do this was to just come out and say what she had to say.

"Phillippe, Michael is your father!" she said firmly, but was careful of her volume, no-one was to know that her son was not also her late husband's son.

Phillippe had never felt so shocked, so confused, so angry. All these years he had been lied to. Mia knew what he must be feeling. She had been so upset and angry whne she found out she was a princess at the age of fourteen. Finding ouit that your father is not what he sems is an awful feeling but finding out that your father was a completely different person to who you thought must have felt a hundred times worse.

"Phillippe, please say something" his mother begged him, but he did not know what he could say. Kenny was not his father. He couldn't take it in. This guy he had nevr met was his real Dad - he couldn't understand it at all.

"You've lied to me all these years?!" he managed to say, fighting back tears.

"Please Phillippe, it was for your own good, for eevrybody's own good, I need to explain..." Mia began but her son could not help feeling betrayed and angry.

"Then explain!" he said sharply, "Explain to me why my whol family has lied to me for sixteen years and why I'e never met my real father!" As he finished speaking, tears rolled down his face and he saw that his mother was in a similar state.

"I will explain it to you Phillippe, and you might not like everything you hear, bt I'm going to tell you the truth now and I hope you understand by the end of my story why I never told you the truth before. It all started when I was in high school..."

A/N : Next chapter is coming soon, but please remember to review cos your reviews encourage me to keep writing at this speed!