Long Live The Vice Foreign Minister
'Not only am I perfect, I'm a princess, too.'
Sighing in restrained irritation, Relena said, "When are people going to stop harping on this? I'm not even a princess anymore!"
Dorothy gave an elegant snort. "Aside from changing your job title to 'Vice Foreign Minister,' your job description is pretty much the same." She grinned wolfishly and singsonged, "You just don't get to wear your crown anymore."
Relena flushed beet red, providing a nice contrast to her new plum business suit. How Dorothy had found out she still took out the Peacecraft family's heirloom tiara to wear from time to time…she didn't want to know.
Knowing just exactly how Dorothy Catalonia kept her eye on everything in her mansion – and even better yet than her security, she would think, if Heero hadn't been the one to design the security system – would probably have her jumping at shadows. She'd be paranoid beyond belief. A little voice in her head – she thought it was that little bit of her self-preservation that she had never listened to when Heero threatened to kill her – piped up with, It's only paranoia if they aren't out to get you.
Relena pasted a plastic smile on her face, gave Dorothy some weak excuse, and made tracks out of her office. She needed to call Trowa and ask him to come and check her palace for bugs; he was the best of the Gundam pilots at that. And then, maybe she should start listening to that little voice more often…or she might not live long enough to regret it.