Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing! I really hope everyone continues to enjoy this. I think that the beginning is better than the rest of the story, but we'll see what you guys make of it. Enjoy!

The whole room watched as Joseph and Clarisse shared the first dance of the evening. They both looked blissfully happy, with eyes for no-one but each other. On one side of the room, Mia snuggled up to Nicholas, grinning, happy for her grandparents as well as her own situation. With her own wedding looming, she had much to smile about.

That was Charlotte's next job. The royal wedding. The last one had been organised in somewhat of a hurry and everyone involved was determined to take their time with this one, making it a perfect day for the young couple.

Still, even with the limited deadline that had been imposed on her, Charlotte was pleased with the way the evenings proceedings were going. Everyone looked to be having a good time and the room was beautifully decorated, with an abundance of fresh flowers, as per Queen Clarisse's request.

Mia and Nicholas joined the older couple on the dance floor, followed by Sebastian Motaz and his wife, then many others. Those who did not move to dance went back to their conversations, the main evening's formalities now over with. Charlotte breathed a small sigh of relief. Nothing much could go wrong now. Nothing that could possibly have been predicted, anyway.

She moved from her position by one of the staircases to walk slowly round the room. She knew almost everyone present, but only in a professional capacity, and those she knew personally were engrossed in the dancing. A few guests, mainly wives, shot smiles her way, but she continued to walk, determined to enjoy the evening off in her own way.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, as she felt herself connect with another body.

"No, it was my fault," a voice replied. Her head was in the process of rising to fully apologise to the person she had hit, but she froze when she heard the voice. For a few seconds she tried to convince herself that she had made a mistake, but as she carefully lifted her head, her face paled.

"Pierre?" she stuttered, the word almost catching in her throat.

O>

The room at the luxury hotel the pair were staying at consisted of two en-suite bedrooms, joined by a communal living area in the middle. All the decoration was plush and extravagant, but remained surprisingly classy. The beds in each room were four-poster and the bathrooms were all marble. Charlotte, who had lived in the palace and stayed at many hotels in her time, had never seen anything so grand.

Pierre slid his jacket on over his shoulders and did up the many buttons. It was his formal army jacket, which was his usual attire for such important occasions, proud of his military background and achievements. With a final glance in the mirror to check his hair was not yet out of place, he headed into the living area to await Charlotte, whom he would accompany to the ladies dinner before heading off to join the men. It had occurred to him that it seemed rather an archaic tradition that the men dined separately to the women, but Charlotte had quickly reminded him that women found it much easier to share secrets and tales when the men were not around.

He was thoroughly engrossed in a book when he heard the door to Charlotte's room open slowly. He felt, rather than heard, himself gasp as she appeared in the doorway. She smiled shyly when she saw him struggling to get his words out.

"Will I do?" she asked, moving further into the room.

"You look incredible," he told her, even his normally shy nature unable to quash the compliment to a more reserved level, "But you're missing something."

"I couldn't do the necklace up, the catch is too fiddly," she admitted, before hesitantly asking, "Could you help?"

He closed his book without bothering to mark his page and stood, taking the necklace from her outstretched hand. Her hair was pulled up into a bun on her head, so fastening the jewellery took only a few seconds, but he felt his hands linger on her shoulders longer than necessary.

Charlotte felt an unexpected shiver run up her spine as his hands landed on her shoulders. She couldn't understand why the simple touch had such an effect on her, but she knew she liked it.

She turned slowly to face him, her eyes cast downwards, terrified that if he were to look into them, he would see the nervousness that lay there. His hands left her shoulders and found her forearms, holding them so lightly she almost didn't notice. He tiled her face gently upwards and their eyes met.

The desire in Pierre's eyes faltered for a second, overcome by nerves and doubts, and that was enough to bring them both back to their senses. They broke apart, neither sure how to act or what to say. By the nature of their respective jobs, however, they were both required to know how to hide their emotions and discomfort when necessary.

"We'd better go to dinner," Pierre announced, holding out his arm to her.

"Yes, we don't want to keep everyone waiting."