A little note for ease of reading: This story, if you don't notice right away, is told first person, present tense (except the first couple paragraphs), and switches between being told by the two main characters. There will be a double space between changes, rather than the single between new paragraphs.

        The young prince looked around himself as he stepped off the plane. The trip had been long and tiring, but he was used to it. He flew on a regular basis, though normally not nearly as far. He and his family had just arrived on the east coast of Canada for a two month tour of the nation. This was a vast nation of diverse people and lands, yet they managed to live together in harmony. The history was simple compared to that of his own nation, but it interested the prince. Throughout his education, he had been taught of the great battles fought around the globe, but only one had been located here, and when they fought abroad, it was in the name of peace. Canada seemed to be the ideal country to the prince.

        Then the fan-fair began.

        As the young man made his way down the stairs from the plane, he was almost shocked by the crowd that greeted him. Hundreds of raincoat clad people stood behind the barriers on the gray concrete, most of them teenage girls judging by the screams. The prince sighed and pasted a smile on as he followed his grandmother and grandfather down the stairs.

        Surrounded by a crowd of a hundred people, I look at the plane and sigh dejectedly. I would much rather be back at the Hudson�s working on Scott�s charity. Instead, I�m here with Jessica and Krissy to meet the prince. What a joke. There are so many people here I doubt we�ll even get to shake his hand. But they insisted.

        �You have to move on,� Jess had said.

        �Come and have some fun,� Krissy pleaded.

        I agreed, well, after they threatened to tell Scott�s parents that I wouldn�t take any time for myself, besides to sit and relish in self pity. See, last fall Scott and I had been out riding in the woods behind his house when his horse spooked and reared. Scott was thrown and hit his head on a rock. We took him off the machine a few days later. I spent the next few months in anguish. Scott and I had been dating for three years when the accident took him from me. Over the summer, we had begun working on a charity for under-privileged children. Lots of the local families couldn�t afford the camps we had gone to as children (though the ones I went to were far fewer than those Scott attended) and when we said goodbye to our reading buddies at the elementary school in June we stared to work on a way for them to have a memorable summer the next year. Now everything is ready, but I can�t leave the project. It was Scott�s and mine, and now holds my fondest memories of him. If only he could see what his love has brought into being.

        I was brought out of my thoughts when Krissy nudged me in the side. I looked at her confused and then noticed that the prince was just down from us shaking hands. I nodded in understanding and let her move in front of me. I could really care less if I shook hands with him or not.

        I could have sworn Granddad agreed that we would go strait to the car once we got off the plane. I wish he had. I�m too tired to really care about what these people think of my suit, I don�t want any flowers, I just send them on to the hospital anyway, and what is so wonderful about a handshake, anyway? But I will smile, and shake hands, take gifts and make small talk. That is what is expected of royalty after all, isn�t it?

        Looking into the crowd around me I see a set of eyes that mirror the emotions I feel. The poor girl obviously doesn�t want to be here, but, by the way the girl standing next to her nudged her, her friends certainly do. He eyes are so sad; as though she has lost someone special. Like Harry still looks sometimes when he thinks about Dad.

        As the prince came closer, Jess and Krissy became more excited. Wait, was it just me, or did we just make eye contact and a look of, I guess, familiarity pass over his face. Well, it has only been a year since his father died. He must still grieve that loss. Lord knows I still grieve over Scott and it�s been eight months.

        What is he doing? He is standing just to my left and is getting something out of his pocket, I think. But he keeps shaking hands. There, the girls have their � now he�s really lost me. Whatever he had pulled from his pocket he is handing to me. �I would appreciate it,� was all he said as I took the paper that he offered.

        All I could do at the moment was nod numbly that I heard what he said. He moved to my right, shaking hands again. I watched him for a few seconds then look at what he gave me. It looked like an invitation to � it is an invitation to the Queen�s Ball, the dinner and dance the city is holding in honor of her visit. I can�t decide whether to laugh or faint. I have some close connections to elite Fredericton, Scott�s parents are part of the old money crowd, and I know these invites are hard to come by. Tickets were going for a thousand a piece, and there weren�t that many for sale. The girls� voices finally get my attention and I am forced to leave my quiet brooding.

        �Gen, what did he give you?� Krissy demands at the same time Jess says �Let me see!�

        �Will you two knock it off? It�s nothing, really,� I lie as I stuff it into my coat. �You got your handshake, can we go now? I�m freezing!�

        �You�re showing us in the car,� Jess says as we walk to my car.

        I wish that I could have said more to that mysterious woman with the sad eyes. But even giving her the invitation is a risk. I have to keep moving down the line so I can get some sleep. Grandmother probably won�t be please I gave it to a perfect stranger. It�s quite possible that she won�t even be able to go though. Her jacket looks pretty worn; she may not even be able to afford a dress. Maybe she�ll sell the ticket. I hope not. I want to see her again. Maybe we can help each other. Or maybe I�m mistaken and she�s just fine.

        I hate crowds.

        Scott had been an only child of a rich family. When he died, his parents were faced with the dilemma of what to do with their estate. Were being the key word. See, what I forgot to mention about Scott�s death was that in the pocket of his jacket that day was an engagement ring. So, under the condition that I take Scott�s name and keep it, I become the Hudson�s sole benefactor. This leaves me with a large lump of money and an important role in the social community to take on. Me, the simple country girl.

        Now, I have taken finishing lessons from a private tutor and am learning the ins and outs of �polite� society. I have one thing to say for most of those with money. The stereotype of them being stuck-up, so true. But it gets me my car and a penthouse suite by the university.

        Today, however, I�m driving out to the country. Jess and I are back from university for the summer and Krissy is graduating high school in June. Laura should be home in a few days from school, and then we�re off to teach at camp. But back to my life right now.

        As soon as we had all piled into my car, Jess and Krissy insist I tell them what the prince gave me. Once I show them, I have to laugh at the shocked looks on their faces.

        �You�re going, of course, aren�t you?� Jess asks me.

        �I suppose I have to. It would hardly be good manners otherwise. I did get an invitation from the prince. I hate propriety.�

        �Bull to propriety, why wouldn�t you go? It�s been eight months, and you have moved from girlfriend of heir to heir. Your charity is finished, we�re leading it in a month, there is nothing holding you back but you. Even Scott�s parents are moving on. You�re going and you�re going to enjoy yourself,� Krissy tells me in her not so blunt way.

        All I can do is sigh and look at the invitation. The Hudson�s will be pleased that I�m going, though they will likely be shocked by the fact that I�m there on the prince�s invitation. Hell, I�m shocked.

        �But why would he invite me,� I ask as I look down at my coat then up at my make-up-less face in the mirror. �I�m hardly one do much eye catching.� What can I say, I look like hell.

        �Don�t try that one on us. You are damned sexy, and there are some guys who like a girl of mystery. And those sad eyes hold a lot,� Jess tells me.

        I smile. �You can be sweet sometimes. I suppose I could get a ride with the Hudson�s.�

        �No way! You have your personal valet right here. The ball isn�t for from the apartment, just call me when you want me to pick you up and I�ll come get you. Assuming you plan on going stag, that is,� Jess offers me.

        �Under the prince�s invite? I couldn�t take anyone with me. Especially since the only man my heart goes to is gone. Besides, I have at least met just about everyone who will be going.

        �Let�s stop at the penthouse to pick a dress out to wear.�

        I should have expected this. Of course, they�d bite into me for it. I�m not aloud to do something as normal as invite a girl to go out with me.

        �You don�t know a thing about her! What if she goes to the press? Or someone who saw you does? Or what if she shows up and makes a complete fool of you?� Grandmother is demanding of me.

        �It won�t be the first or the last time our family has made headlines,� I say. I really don�t care whether it was proper or not. I need to get out of here. �Permission to turn in for the night, Grandmother?�

        She looks shocked that I could have the audacity to ask such a thing. Aren�t I aloud to be tired? Or am I suppose to sit and listen to this for hours?

        �Granted. This is not the end of this,� she promises. But it never is, is it?