Author's Note: Okay I am about three quarters done with Part Three which is still untitled . If I get enough reviews I may post a pre-view of the last chapter in the Michael and Mia saga at the end of the next chapter of this story. So do your thing. And by that I mean review.



"Must you leave?" I asked early on a Sunday morning weeks later. I had snuck into his apartment (he had given me a key for some reason). He was was going back to England only hours later
"You know I must," he replied. "Summer vacation is no more. I'll see you in two months. Just two months darling girl. What the hell are you doing here so early? In your pajamas no less!"
I pouted. "I convinced Lars that I had to come see you before you left. I was kind of in a rush. I couldn't remember when you were flying out. Who am I supposed to hang out with when you leave?"
"Isn't Sophie doing a semester abroad?" he asked as we left his kitchen.
"Yeah. I know. Tawny too... But it's...different with you."
"And you will be in school. Very busy. You'll forget all about good old Joshua in no time darling girl." He was totally ignoring what I was saying. He was more interested in getting me out of his apartment.

Wait.

I bet Lucie is in his room. "What is with the stricken face?" he asked.
"Why are you rushing me out of here like the house is on fire? Do you have Lucie in your room?"

He laughed, "Oh silly, silly girl. Of course she isn't in there. She left hours ago," he said with a wink. He saw my expression of surprise, "I'm joking. Why would she be here? I would only allow my darling girl in that place," he said with another wink.
"You know I can't hate you if you call me that."
He grinned, "I know. I remember all your weaknesses
"And you must know that I can't possibly be able to forget you just because you leave me for two months."
"You'll find a new boyfriend and fall head over heels for him-"
"Princesses do not fall head over heels," I corrected.
"Oh, my sincerest apologies," he said with a grin, his hand on the doorknob. "Come on Mia, don't make me feel bad. When you make that face," he said tapping my nose, "I just want to do anything to make you happy again."
I laid it on really thick. "How am I supposed to act around Brock when I see him?"
He let go of the knob and cupped my face in both hands. For brief second I thought he was going to kiss me. "You, darling girl, will ask him how his summer was and then go on and tell him how I ravished you on the beaches of Monaco..." he said with a goofy face.
"Oh please," I said lowering my eyes.
"Okay, so don't tell him that...but..." he said placing his hand back on the doorknob. "Tell him that you hope he had a great summer and then you go and meet other people. Meet some new friends or...or a boyfriend or something," he said, adding the boyfriend bit a little more softly than everything else. He opened the door and I stepped out.
"Oh, that's all? Okay then Joshua..."
He kissed my cheek, "Be a good girl, okay?"
I kissed him on the lips platonically. I let my forehead lean on his, "I'll try my bestest."
He kissed me back, "You better. Otherwise..." he started, our eyes looking right into one another's. "Otherwise Grandmere will disown you."
I heard a camera go off. "Great," I mumbled. "Grandmere is going to kill Lars for letting me go out at this hour," I said looking at my watch.
"Rush back," he teased. "I'm gonna call you when I get back to London, okay?"
I nodded. "You better, Punk."
He winked and shut the door. I ran to the car and told Lars to floor it.

"Princess?" Javier asked as he knocked on my door two weeks later.
"Yes, Javier?" I asked, closing the book that I was reading.
"Your grandmother wishes to have a word with you," he said in a way that he knew I was in trouble.
I tried reading his expression. I thought back to what I had been doing lately, nothing bad really. "Did she say why?" I asked.
He shook his head. "No..."
"She didn't have to?" I guessed, biting my lip.
He didn't answer. "I think it'd be for the best if you just talked to her."

I sat alone in her private office. I hated this place. It was cold. Totally uninviting. Probably why she kept it private. Only when she was alone. She only invited me, Dad and of course her assistant William in here. No major heads of state ever came into this room. It was where she did her real dirty work. Where she dealt with her family.
I looked up at the portrait of my grandfather after his coronation. He had NO idea what he was getting himself into. How he would have to live with Grandmere for the rest of his life. Sure, he had survived a plane crash during the war, being a prisoner of war.... and courting Grandmere...but having to actually live with her?
"Amelia," her brass voice asked. More of a statement really. It came from behind the tall chair on the other side of the desk. I hadn't realized she was in the room with me.
"Grandmere," I said softly. I picked a piece of lint from my blouse. "You wanted to see me?"
She turned the chair around and tossed a newspaper at me. Then a magazine. Then another magazine. Then another magazine. "What is the meaning of this?"
I looked at the headlines and the pictures. My eyes bulged out. Pictures of me, leaving Joshua's house in the wee hours of the morning.

Pictures of our innocent kisses.

Pictures of our goodbye.

Us looking angry when the camera went off.

Then laughter. Then a quote "You better [leave]...otherwise Grandmere will disown you," a box said, quoting Joshua. Totally out of context.
 I looked up at her, words were missing. My lips were moving, but nothing coming out of them.
"Well? What do we have?" she snapped, getting out of her chair angrily. "A terrible public image. None of this happened when we were in New York! Why must you wait to misbehave until we are in Genovia? In front of your own people?"
I felt about three feet tall. This was going to make Joshua look terrible.
"Amelia, you...what is this?" she demanded.
"Joshua is going to look terrible. His mother is going to kill him," I said shaking my head.
Grandmere threw her arms in the air, "We have a royal crisis here and you think of him? The boy who got you into this trouble?"
"Grandmere, what trouble? I don't get it."
She lit a cigarette and took a deep breath. "Amelia, if we make it look like we cannot control a nineteen year old girl, how are we supposed to control a country?"
"I'm nineteen-"
"And the future ruler of this country!" she screamed. "Do you seriously think you would be a credible ruler if people can always look up a picture of you leaving some man's apartment? Or how would future possible consorts feel knowing that their wife, and the princess is not as virginal as they could possibly get?"
So my life has to be lived by how my future royal consort would want me to live? I have to live up to expectations that people I have never met have for me? "Okay, Grandmere, who says I am not a virgin? And who's busine-"
"Don't you be talking back to me, Amelia. You must follow tradition. Y-You can't be gallivanting around with some commoner, I don't care if he's of British nobility. Who isn't these days? I think they even made Julie Andrews a dame or something. He is common," she explained. I have never seen her this angry before. "Amelia, what I am trying to say is...you have to be quieter in public. Use those lessons I drilled into you for all those years."
I had seen her mad before, anyone who met her has probably. But she looked truly angry now.
"I can't have you embarrassing us anymore," she added. "I allowed that little fling with that Brock fellow, but I cannot allow you to act like this, understand?"
I nodded quietly. Holding back the tears was hard. "Yes Grandmere. Crystal clear..."
She sat down again. "Amelia, I have never been ashamed before, but seeing these photo's...." she started. "Makes me feel humiliated."
I looked up at her. I could feel the tears forming small pools on my upper cheeks. I stared at the photo of my father she had framed on her desk. I felt my lip quivering. "Grandmere, allow me to ex-"
"I need no explanations, Amelia. Please leave now," she said. She dismissed me without a good bye.

I walked back to the wing where my suite was. I couldn't allow the staff to see me cry. They'd let it be known to the biggest bidding tabloid that I left a meeting with my grandmother in tears. It'd shame the family. It'd shame my grandmother.

I let myself collapse in my bedroom. Then I remembered something Joshua told me back in the woods that first night he saw me there... "Tears aren't going to fix your problem. Doing something about it will..."
 I went over to my vanity and wiped my face clean. Thank goodness for waterproof mascara. I stared at myself in the mirror. I'm a failure. A total failure in my grandmother's eyes. What could I do though, to change her image of me? She was the only family, other than my father, that I had over here. My mother was two or three time zones away from me. She was living a totally different life than me. She didn't understand the scrutiny that I was under. Only Grandmere understood that; in her own sort of twisted way.
I would have to start acting like the proper princess that she always wanted me to be, if I still wanted her to support me. I walked over to my closet. Lots of jeans. Lots of old ratty t-shirts. I grabbed them all in one swoop. "Javier!" I called out.
"Yes your highness?" he asked, coming out of seemingly nowhere. "What are you doing with all of your clothes out here?"
"I would like all of these donated. And tell Lars that we are going shopping this afternoon. I need to update my wardrobe."

I impressed Grandmere, I think so at least. I didn't get into any trouble. At least she didn't see anything wrong with my life. I was actually quite miserable. I avoided any phone calls from Joshua and left his letters unopened.
"Saw the pictures of you in the National," Brock said coming up to me in the quad. "I-I can't say I'm surprised..." he said biting his lower lip.
I stared at him, "What?"
"I mean, you know, that you were-are- with him."
"I'm not, and I never was."
He looked almost hurt. "Oh, so...I guess I can understand."
He thought I was saying it was a one night stand. "No," I said, grabbing his wrist. "No, it wasn't like that."
He stared at my hand. "I-I guess it doesn't matter-"
"It does," I argued. "I mean...I don't want people to think I'm like that."
"Like what?" he asked, sitting next to me on the bench.
"That I sleep around or something."
"Like a lot of kids our age?" he asked. "I can personally say that you were the picture of perfection when we were together."
I smiled, "You didn't seem to think so while we were together," I teased.
He rolled his eyes. "I guess I understand. So...you and Joshua?"
"What?" I asked.
"You haven't gotten together?" he asked.
I tried not to laugh. "Those pictures..."
"He's steering clear of you because of them?" he asked.
I looked down at the book I was reading. "No...not like that. It's just...that was the last time I've talked to him."
He gave a muffled laugh. "You have got to be kidding me. Those were taken what, a month and a half ago?"
"At least," I replied. "Why is that so funny?"
"Because I just remember you always talking to him. Always finding a way to see him or speak to him."
"Well, he's in law school now. No time for me really..."
"Oh please," he said sarcastically. "That's a fib."
I decided to change the topic, "So, how've things been with you?"
"Busy. Got a small bite from a shark when I was surfing, it was unbelievable, ya know?" he asked, lifting his his pant leg to show me the scar.
"Wow, unbelievable," I said softly, fingering the mark. "Must have hurt, huh?"
"Not too bad."
"Yeah right."
"So...your summer?"
I shrugged, "Travelling a little bit. Visiting old friends..."
"America?" he guessed.
I shook my head. "No...not quite."
"Why not?" he asked.
I looked at my watch, "Wow, I have English Lit now. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

That night Lucie came over for dinner with me. "So you saw Brock today? What he say? Did he look cute?"
I laughed. "He looked like himself, ya know? I mean, he's just...he looks like Michael."
She raised her eyebrow, "Who?"
I forgot that I had 'conviently' not mentioned him.
"Michael?" she asked after I didn't answer.
"Um..."
"Old flame?" she guessed.
I squished up my face. "Kind of...well, more of a crush. I had always liked him, but I never really did anything about it."
She popped a big bubble with her gum. "Why not?"
"B-Because I just don't do those types of things..." I explained, picking a thread from my comforter.
She rolled her eyes, "Oh come on Mia.. Why not? Tell me the story," she said with her notebook in her hand.
I grabbed it away. "If I even tell you anything about him, I don't want it in the book. This part of my life is over, probably."
She nodded, "Am I going to be getting some good stuff? Start from the beginning."
I told her the whole story, and I mean the WHOLE story.
"So my fair princess is not a virgin?" she asked with mock shock.
"Please, I'm trusting you, Lucie. Do not tell anyone else, okay?"
She stuck out her pinky, "I pinky swear not to tell anyone what you just told me."
I smiled and linked my pinky with hers.
"I just don't get why you rushed away from him though," she said grabbing the piece of popcorn off her lap.
Gee, not like I hadn't thought of this at all over the past two years. "It's hard to explain."
"It's me, not a 'real' writer," Lucie teased. "Haven't you read that I slept with the Prince of Cabonia? Or with some musician in America? Come on, I'm not a prude. I won't judge."
"I-I know," I said staring up at my suddenly very interesting ceiling. "It's just...I didn't even sleep after we..."
"Shagged."
I laughed, "I prefer to say made love."
"To each her own," she said.
"Okay, so, after we made love I couldn't sleep. I was...the happiest person at that moment. I felt so...."
"Safe?" she guessed.
I nodded. "And loved...and just about everything positive I could imagine feeling."
"That's a good thing, sweetie."
"I know...but I mean I saw him, sleeping so peacefully. And for a very brief moment I thought it would work out. That since we had been together that it had to mean that...that everything would be perfect. That I could forget I was a princess and he could forget that he was..."
I stopped myself before I said 'a boyfriend'.
"A what?" she asked.
"That he was someone's boyfriend," I said softly.
"Mia! Geez, I am shocked that you would bed a non-single man. Congratulations," she said laughing.
"It's not like I planned on sleeping with him. It just kind of...happened. He kissed me when he dropped me off. I didn't want him to leave...to let the evening end. I wanted him to stay with me. It was like, four years almost of questions were answered in that one night."
"So, why did you brush him off the next morning?"
Aw, the million dollar question. "I, um, was scared."
"Of what? Did he have a big penis or something? Those can be scary."
I laughed. She had a fascination with a man's size. "I'm not going to- "
"Mia, I need ALL the details in order to offer a professional opinion on you."
"I don't want an opinion on me," I replied.
"You know what I mean."
"I didn't really look," I lied.
"Yeah right. Okay, I understand spilling all this is a big deal...I won't push it. Why were you scared though?"
"Of what it really meant. That he wasn't going to want me. Or that he'd think I was a slut for sleeping with him."
"Sweetie, from what you are telling me, I think he knew you better than you think.Secondly, he slept with you too. It takes two...or at least in your situation it's only two. He didn't have to sleep with you. He could have held back and gone back to his girlfriends that night. Have you thought about contacting him?"
I laughed, "No."
She rolled her eyes, "Oh come on! What's holding you back? It's not like you still have feelings for him, right? What's the worst that could happen?" she asked, tossing her cell phone at me.
She had a point. "Fine. Fine...I will just call up and...and...I'll see what he's been doing since he graduated, right?" I said sarcastically.
"Right," she said simply.