Chapter 2: Strain

Clarrise froze. She knew that voice, Joe. Her mind started racing. Her robe was on the floor next to her, she would have to turn to face him to grab it. And her top was on the back of her chair. It would be easier to grab that, but it would take a lot longer to put on. And in her mind time was not something she had.

"If you would be so kind as to turn around," she said in her queenliest voice, trying to keep herself from shaking. She waited a good five second, before looking over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't looking. He wasn't. She snatched her robe from the ground and through it on, tying the tie tightly about her waist.

"You can ummm... turn around," she stuttered. She wasn't exactly sure what this would do to their relationship. Ever since the whole Wango incident in San Francisco, anything remotely linked to romance and Joe, made her blush. It wasn't that she didn't love him, she just didn't know how to handle her feelings. She'd never learned how to handle her feeling, arranged marriages didn't leave room for romance, love and flirting. That was all she'd ever had, an arranged marriage. And even with Joe, she wasn't sure what kind of a love it was.

When she stood and turned about to face him, he was trying to suppress a smile, and failing horribly. He was shaking with laughter actually. It dawned on her that from his vantage point it must have looked as if she wasn't wearing a shirt at all. Like some topless woman on a french beach. She looked back down at the floor.

"Your Majesty," he said after a moment, he was no longer laughing. "I believe Mia is excepting a call from you." And with that her turned about and left. She could hear his dee laugh all the way down the hallway.

She sat down facing the desk. She still hadn't come up with anything encouraging to tell Mia. The only think she could think about as she dialed the number for the embassy was Joe.

Mia picked up on the first ring. She was nervous about her approaching coronation. But she wanted to be in Genovia with her Grandmother.

"Hello?"

"Good Morning Mia." Mia relaxed her Grandmother would know exactly what to do.

"Hey, how's it going?"

"It's errmmm... going. What have you been up to?" Mia told her grandmother everything about her boring stay at the embassy, but her grandmother seemed preoccupied. That was understandable the world was watching to see what would happen between the allied countries and those that remained neutral. Mia's coronation would be a high point. And Clarrise had to deal with it all.

The discussed Mia's departure and also how she was suppose to deal with the press. They would be practically shoving their microphones down her throats. Especially the paparazzi. Anything to make the young princess say something that she would regret. Something that would embarrass her country.

All too soon the phone call ended. Clarrise had other things to attend to. She said something about a misunderstanding. Mia put the phone back on the receiver. She turned to where Lars had been standing. but he'd left. She would have to find her own way back.

Coming out through the office door Mia couldn't remember weather she had come from the left or right. She didn't recognize anything. But there was a door to the left, and she vaguely remembered going through a door. So she headed that way. Upon opening the door, she found herself on the street, in a mass of reporters.

"Princess, princess!"

"Over here Mia."

"How's your Grandma?"

"Princess!"

"What is your countries decision." A man in a suit jacket and spandex shorts shoved a mike towards her.

"Look this way." Camera's were flashing everywhere, the reporters were screaming and shoving microphones in her face. Mia tried to remember anything her Grandma had told her, but her mind went blank. People were grabbing onto her, and there was someone behind her, blocking the door. She shielded her eyes, but it was getting even louder. How had they even known she was here?

"Mia, how do you feel about America's War on Terrorism?"

"Are you Genovian or American?"

"Does your Grandma know what she's doing?"

"Princess, where do you stand, with or against your home country?" It was all too much. Mia didn't know what to say or what to do. Countless hours of Princess Lessons hadn't prepared her for this. Grandma had talked about what to say, if there was one person and they were politely sitting across the table from you. Not if there were a couple of dozen, that were screaming and grabbing at you. She'd said something about this on the phone. But that was all gone from Mia's mind. She was mad. Someone reached over and grabbed her arm, toppling her over.

"F off!" she said, kicking someone in the shin. She turned around shoving people out of the way to make it to the door. Mia managed to wrench the door open, and dive inside, slamming it behind her. She could hear the reporters battering and banging at the other side. They were still screaming her name.

But none of it registered, all Mia could think of were those fateful words. The princess collapsed onto the floor, sobbing. What had she done?