"Wow," Mia gasped, spotting Charlotte enter into the view of the mirror, "That dress is amazing. Wanna trade?"
Charlotte laughed, "That dress was made for you, your majesty. I doubt I'd even fit into it."
"Now, see, we've talked about this before. Firstly, stop putting yourself down and, secondly, please call me Mia. You're practically family," Mia grinned, continuing before the other woman could get a word in, "So Joe has told me to kit you out in jewels. Come and choose some."
"Actually, I have some that I'd like to wear," she told Mia, holding up a small velvet jewellery box, "They were a present a long time ago, but I haven't worn them since the day I got them. They never seemed appropriate for work, but Joseph has forbidden me from working tonight, so I thought I'd dust them off."
"Cool. Can I see?" The women sat down at Mia's coffee table and Charlotte carefully prised the lid off of the box, before setting it down on the surface for Mia's approval.
"What do you think?" Charlotte asked after a while, when Mia hadn't said anything.
Mia's mouth opened and closed a few times, "I think I've never seen anything so beautiful. These must be the most stunning pieces of jewellery in the world. Where did you say you got them?"
"They were a present."
"They must have been from someone pretty special. A necklace, a bracelet, ooh, and a ring!"
Charlotte's eyes widened at the last word, "I forgot the ring was in there too."
"Are you going to wear the whole set? It would look amazing."
"The ring is not appropriate."
"Why not?" Mia asked, inspecting the bracelet.
"Because it was intended to be an engagement ring."
O>
"So you're going to show me the 'real Paris', as my mother calls it?" Pierre asked as they sat in the back seat of the car taking them towards their hotel. Charlotte had rushed onto the Genovia One aeroplane at the last minute, underestimating the amount of time it would take her to pack, and Pierre had already been fast asleep in his seat. The early morning flight time had meant that she too was soon dozing in her own chair, so the car was their first opportunity to speak.
"That's the plan."
"Do you know the city well?" he asked, with one eye on the scenery that was whizzing past.
"I used to go all the time with my dad. He was a poet and he had lots of friends there."
"What about your mother? Didn't she ever go?"
She looked up at him, hesitantly, "She died when I was a baby."
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't realise," he flustered, his full attention now on her.
"No, it's fine. How could you possibly know?" she reassured him, pasting her usual smile back on her face, "Anyway, I haven't been in years." Pierre toyed with the idea of asking why not, but decided that the back seat of a limo was not the time to find out that she had been orphaned at the age of twelve or her father had abandoned her.
"So it will be somewhat new to both of us?" he asked, sticking to a safer subject.
"Yes, it will," she agreed, while noticing that they had reached their destination, "We're here, your majesty."
"Charlotte," he called, taking hold of her hand to stop her getting out of the car, "How can I relax if you call me 'your majesty'? My name is Pierre, please use it."