Chapter 2 – I bet, you bet

It had taken some discussion but the Queen's servants now took for granted that the shiny motor cycle in the stables was Her Majesty's property. But why had she bought it?

´There are four bets now,´ Claude silenced his colleagues.

´Bet one: it's something ethical -´

´Mon Dieu!´ Mr Tally interrupted. ´Make that aesthetical.´

´That's what I said! She likes the lines of the motor cycle and she just wants to watch it from time to time.´

His colleagues argued that Her Majesty would never buy such an expensive thing just to look at it.

´She buys paintings and sculptures,´ Claude contradicted them, ´why not a great bike too?´

Mr Tally rolled his eyes.

´Well, bet two: she is pulling a joke at the prince. It is his after all. He just doesn't know it yet - ´

´Because she wanted to know for sure that he liked it!´ Miss Breton (who persisted that her Queen would never ride a bike) defended her suggestion.

´Righty. Now number three says that she bought it because she wants to get her license and that she will get it because she already bought a bike...´

Although many people nodded understandingly Claude clearly didn't see the logic behind the idea.

´The last one, bet four, says that the Queen bought the motor cycle to ride it herself.´

Again he had to hush his colleagues. Miss Breton's shrill voice reached new heights. Mr Jonas insisted that a line should be added to bet four, saying Her Majesty had already gotten her licence. Claude obliged, muttering something about hair-splitters. The servants and courtiers made their bets.

´Great,´ Claude commented, looking at the filled list in front of him, ´the bet is closed. Now we need to find out why the Queen bought the bike.´

OoOoOoO

The Queen's motor cycle just stood in the stables. No one knew what to make of it. The dress maids, who felt a sudden inclination to clean Her Majesty's dressing room, didn't find a motor suit. Miss Charlotte, who was as curious as anyone, dared not ask the Queen what she meant to do with the bike. She still believed that it was the prince's motor cycle but why didn't the man ride it? His Royal Highness might, from his age and position, be more accessible than the Queen his mother but no one even dreamt of asking him which bet was the right one.

After days of maddening insecurity Mrs Danieli prepared Mr Romero's favourite food and skilfully arranged to sit next to him at dinner. He liked the soup, he liked the meat and he praised the salad's dressing. The cook smiled and said: ´I bet it is the best salad you've ever had?´

The head of security grinned charmingly and took another bite. Mrs Danieli licked her lips and asked him if he ever made bets.

´I play poker Mrs Danieli, I seldom make bets.´

´You don't do you?´

She turned around, knowing she would find Claude behind her. ´Tell me Claude, did the Mr Romero make a bet about the bike?´

´Nope.´

Joe frowned.

´Surely you know about it?´ Mrs Danieli asked, rubbing her fork against the table cloth as if to polish it.

´I soon will.´

It was encouragement enough but the cook didn't look at the head of security when she said: ´There's a bet going on about why Her Majesty bought a motor cycle. Most people believe that she didn't buy it to ride it herself.´

Joe had been relieved that the Queen had not mentioned the bike after showing it to the prince. It enabled him to ignore the thing, at least when he was awake. He sighed.

´What do they believe?´

The cook told him about the bets. Bets one and two didn't make sense to Joe. Unlike bikes old paintings tend to become more valuable over the years. Making a joke at the prince's expense was not like the Queen. Knowing what His Highness had said in the stables bet four seemed the one to spend money on but it included her having a license. Which she didn't have! Why hadn't he thought of that before? Idiota! His dreams had turned into nightmares, in which the Queen laid lifelessly on the asphalt. But she didn't have a license! Bet three was the only logical option! Joe didn't worry about his Queen getting her license: she didn't have time to take driving lessons. And if she would find a gap in her diary, he'd make sure something would interfere with her intention to learn how to ride the damn bike.

OoOoOoO

A fortnight passed.

Courtiers waiting for the Queen to arrive for the monthly staff meeting talked about whether Her Majesty had visited the stables several times now to check on a horse that had taken ill and, while there, glance at the motor cycle or if she walked to the stables to admire the bike and, while there, inform after the animal's health.

´Miss Kutaway, perhaps you could ask Her Majesty if you need to schedule driving lessons for her,´ viscountess Margoli suggested. She had made a bet and although there was not a lot of money at stake, she was very focused on the whole Queen plus motor cycle idea. So much so that she didn't notice that the gentlemen rose.

´She will need to get her licence after all. It has to be bet number three.´

´Please be seated.´

´Your Majesty!´

The viscountess turned red.

´What is it viscountess?´ the Queen said with a twinkle in her eyes.

The lady proved to be a descendant of brave soldiers. Or perhaps she simply believed that the Queen had heard every word she'd said. No point in denying...

´I was, we were... wondering if you... will have time... to get yourdrivinglicence.´

´Get my what?´

The only one who eyed the Queen was her head of security.

´The motor cycle, in the stables...´ the viscountess continued, feeling rather miserable. Good Lord, imagine the Queen riding a bike, it seemed insulting.

´Oh, I see...´ Her Majesty said and she opened the meeting. When she closed it an hour later, the viscountess was at ease again.

´Pray tell me viscountess, I heard you mention a bet?´

The Queen felt like smirking because of the tension that suddenly filled the room. She gave her lady-in-waiting a sweet smile. It even fooled Joe in thinking that she was unaware of the excitement her motor cycle had caused.

The lady glanced at her colleagues, hoping they would assist her in informing the Queen about the bets. Mr Tally checked if there was enough ink in his pen. Mr Delgana watched him attentively. Mr Jonas studied his cuff-links. Miss Kutaway re-read her notes. The head of security looked at the Queen. The viscountess sighed.

´There are four bets ma'am. The first says that the motor cycle is like a painting to you.´

´Oh?´

´An object you bought because you like to look at it.´

´Seriously!´

´What was the second bet again Mr Tally?´ the noblewoman wondered.

The man cleared his throat, not too happy with the viscountess involving him.

´It says that the vehicle is prince Philippe's.´

Silence.

´I am getting curious about the other bets,´ Her Majesty said.

´The third bet is about Your Majesty buying a bike as an encouragement to get your licence,´ a red faced Mr Delgana replied.

Silence.

´Who is going to tell me about bet number four?´

The Queen looked from Charlotte to the viscountess to Mr Delgana to Mr Tally and just before she was going to shift her gaze to Mr Jonas Joe spoke.

´The last bet says that you will ride it yourself and that you already have your motor licence ma'am.´

´I see. Pray tell me,´ the Queen said while collecting her documents, ´are there many people who have actually put money on bet number four?´

She rose, causing the others to stand also.

Viscountess Margoli giggled nervously and told the Queen that the only person who had chosen that bet was Mr Jonas.

The Queen studied her legal advisor. The man felt uncomfortable. When his liege smiled at him, he relaxed a little, until he remembered that a smile sometimes was an introduction to a tongue-lashing.

The Queen looked at her head of security, who took the cue and opened the door for her.

´Ladies, gentlemen.´

In the doorway she turned around.

´Mr Jonas?´

The man swallowed.

´Your Majesty?´

´Congratulations.´