A/N: There's a butchered Breakfast at Tiffany's quote in here somewhere. Whoever finds it gets a treat.
Disclaimer: I...do...not...own...any...of...the...characters. No, that wasn't too hard to say.
I'm thinking at least six months after the last month. But I'd normally give it a whole year.
"There has been a problem, your Highness."
"...Still investigating..."
"Not sure of the circumstances..."
"...Didn't see it coming..."
"Some sort of freak accident..."
"You must take their place, your Highness..."
And, because duty called, she had to take it.
It wasn't supposed to be there. She glared at the offending piece of paper. She wanted desperately to read it, but she knew that it shouldn't even have been sent.
Self-control wasn't one of her stronger suites.
Dear Ann,
I know I promised,a long time agothat I would not write to you. However, as you well know, I am not one for keeping promises.
You shall become a wonderful queen, and that is not a lie. I have every faith in human relations, particularly yours. I suppose the right thing would be for me to wish you luck, but luck has nothing to do with it...does it?
I won't be in Rome for your tour. I'm sorry, but I think that we both know it's for the best. Try not to fall asleep on the side of the road again.
Years ago, I said that I wanted to tell you something. But, I can keep one promise, and I won't tell you. Not unless you want to know.
I highly doubt you do.
Goodbye, Ann,
Joe
Of course she wanted to know. But if she asked him, she knew that she would leave her post and never return. Duty called.
Of course. Duty. Still, she was disappointed that he would not be in Rome.
It seemed fitting.
Romanticist.
She would like to go out and drink. Go out and not return until she was drunk. Until she was very drunk, indeed.
It wasn't allowed. Responsibility, no, duty, kept her from doing so.
Duty to her country, now that it was demanded, not merely asked.
She had never found out exactly what the freak accident was.
Wishful thinking, I know.
Please reveiw.