Because I have not posted in so long I decided to post this only 24 hours after the last one! Someone commented saying they weren't really sure where I was going with this. Well that makes two of us! My brilliant plan fell through and now I am just writing where my heart leads. Or w/e. Happy Reading...

Chapter 10: Tourist

Clarrise retired to her suite early. She was tired out, after all the cold shoulders and hard looks. She didn't know what was going on with Joseph or her Granddaughter, and for that matter what about Charlotte. She had burst into laughter when Clarisse had said goodnight to her in the hallway. The palace might as well be turned into a phsychiatric ward, the way things were going.

Strangely enough Clarrise felt rather at peace with the whole situation. She knew she would have to apoloogize to Mia, about the whole 'accident' discussion. And of course Lily and Micheal would have to come. A Queen never 'uninvites' her guests. Joseph was another matter all together. But Clarrise decided not to contemplate it. He was just being moody, or something. Or something, somehow seemed a more likely possibility. She had known Joseph for a very long time, but she had never seen him alough his personal feeling or mood, get in the way of his job.

The phone rang, and Clarisse came out of the bathroom, where she had been brushing her teeth to get it. She picked it up on the third ring, wondering what kind of call would get forwarded to her room, ecspecially at this hour.

"Hello?" The line was staticky, as if the phone call was from a long way away.

"Hello, Mother." It was Pierre, her eldest son.

"Pierre? What do I owe for the pleasure of this call?"

"Nothing Mom, I'm in the area, can I drop by?"

"Of course! You're in the area? But the line is so staticky, as if you were calling from "

"Yes, I know. I'm on a mobile phone actually. Borrowed it from a tourist. He wants to say 'Hi', to the Queen. Can I put him on?" Clarisse sighed she knew she couldn't say no. But she genuinely hated tourists. Especially the kind with mobile phones. When ever she was out in public, they were constantly shoving their phones in her face, wanting her to say hello to some long-lost aunt or distant cousin.

"Of course." She could hear someone talking in the back ground, gabbering away.

"Your Majesty?"

"Yes."

"I just wanted to tell you that I think you are doing a fine job with this here country, and that I am a huge fan. Did you know I am actually originally from Genovia. My mothers father immigrated to the United States in - ummm about, well I'd say 1932. I must say that was mighty smart of him, seeing how Genovia suffered so much in the wars. And I think you're great, and that little niece of yours, or is she your daughter. Well I think she's sweet. But don't you think you'd better have someone better. Because well she is just so young. Did I mention that my family comes from Genovia." It was as if the tourist hadn't breathed once during the whole conversation. If you could call it that, Classise had barely spoken. Finally she interupted.

"Thank you, now I really must go."

"But-" Clarrise hung up. Pierre would be here soon, and she didn't want the palace to be in a total disarray. Not that it was ever that way. Still Clarisse wanted it to be perfect.

I agree nothing really happened, but I just wanted to place Clarrise in another Queenly situation. And show Pierre in.