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Queen Eva's portrait was one of the biggest and most beautiful pictures inside the palace. It was located in the main hallway on the second floor, but you could see it immediately once you entered the main door on the first floor.

I was always glancing at her image, but not that attentive, unlike for the past week since Katherine told me about the mysterious death of her. Including her relatives, Lady Sarah and their families.

What was it to me? I did not know. Something inside me wanted to know why or how. Or was it really she was killed by his husband, late King Henry? The rumor about the real cause of her death was not new, however, it was different when someone elaborated to you the story. The story behind that rumor.

I took a deep breath, while observing and admiring the paint in front of me. Queen Eva had eyes like the sky. If you were going to look at her, you could see first her blue eyes, how they were perfectly made. Her blonde hair was a light shade, almost white. But she looked young in this picture, so I doubted that she was old enough to have white hair. Therefore, it was the natural color of her hair. Her thin pink lips had a small smile.

She wore a white ancient gown and there was a crown on her head. Green was her background. I realized that King Gregory got nothing from her features. Even the siblings of His Majesty. On the lower left corner of the painting, 'Queen Eva' was written and below it was the signature of, possibly, the painter.

"Let's go?" Katherine popped out somewhere, and I almost jumped in surprise.

Touching my chest, I said, "You scared me!"

"Sorry," she grinned, "You're thinking so deep that you didn't notice I'm already here."

I looked at the portrait again over my shoulder, "I'm really curious about Queen Eva."

She sighed and tapped my shoulder. "I have a feeling that it was my liability," I stared at her with wrinkled forehead, "I shouldn't tell it to you if only I knew you'll become that obsessed."

"I'm not obsessed, Kath," I defended and shook my head, "I'm just having a feeling that there is something wrong with her."

"With her?" she echoed my last words.

"With her, you know," I lowered my voice, "Death."

Katherine gasped and looked around, "Shirley, you're stress or something. I think, we better get going now, so we could finish our paperwork early." She was like that since last week. Since we talked about Lady Sarah and Queen Eva's connection. When I was talking about Queen Eva, she might change the topic or never paid attention to me for the next hours. She was avoiding the topic, and the look on her face was telling me that she was regretting all she said to me.

I just nodded, and dismissed the questions forming in my head. We walked down the stairs. She was talking about something, but I did not pay attention because I glanced back to the portrait. What have they done to you, Your Majesty?

-----

Katherine and I went to a bank near the palace to credit our remittance with the respective accounts of our families. Her family was in Manila, while mine was in Chicago. We entered the glass door of the bank after the guard greeted and inspected us.

We filled up a form of deposit. Katherine taught me what to write, even though I had common sense, to avoid any errors.

"What do you feel about your first salary?" She asked, as if an interviewer from a company.

I smiled, "Of course, happy."

"I can see it in your eyes, I know, Shirley, how much you desired to help your family," she got the slip under my hand, and read it. "I think, you wrote all correctly. Call your family now, so they'll know that you'll deposit the money in their account."

With her words, I remembered again that my phone was not returned to me yet. I had not called my family last week because I could not contact them. I did not memorize their mobile number, or even Dad's work contact number. Gladly, I learned an application on my laptop two days ago.

It was called 'Skype'. Lola had an account there, and she told me about it through email. I installed it on the laptop I had in my room, and chatted with Lola for last two consecutive nights. She said that we should try to have a video call soon once she bought a new webcam. She also promised that after I deposited on my father's account, she would help them to move out to a better house and, also, teach them to use 'Skype'.

This application was like the normal cellular phone. It had a voice call, so I got a chance to talk with Dad yesterday using Lola's account. There, I asked him about his bank account, and I told him that the money they would receive was enough to rent a new house and to buy all their necessities for a month. In addition, I said to him how much I missed them. Surely, my father asked what happened to my phone, and I made up a story that it was broken and I needed to bring it to a technician.

"I already did," I said to Katherine.

Since there were only a few customers at this hour, we were easily entertained by the tellers. A man was standing behind the counter and he was playfully smiling at me. I just bowed my head, and gave him the slip, together with the money.

I looked at Katherine who was currently talking or flirting (who knows?) to another man teller. She kept on putting the strand of her hair on the back of her ear, while the Brit teller was pointing something on her slip.

My teller started to count the money. After he made sure that the money I gave to him, and what was written in the form were the same, he punched on his keyboard.

"Nice name, Shirley Woodman," he said and smirked as if he had a reason for doing it.

I shrugged, "Well, thank you."

"Working in the palace?" he asked while his eyes were on the screen of his computer.

I raised an eyebrow, confused about how he knew that I was working in the palace. He stared at me again, when I did not respond. He looked past down on my face, and I followed his gaze. I saw my identification card pinned on my blouse on the right side of my chest.

I nodded, "Yeah, I'm..." I did not know, but I had an urge to tell him what was my job, "...Prince Alexander's personal accountant."

Saying his name for the first time after he left for his event, I felt a hole in my chest. It was like my stomach was empty, and I found myself difficult to breath. It was a part of me that was gone, and all I wished that part to be here.

He did not make a call for me, and I wondered if he already forgot us. If ever there was an us in his perspective. What if he was already with another woman in that place? What if once he stepped outside England, another persona of Prince Alexander dominated him? The one who did not say good words to me. The one who only wanted women on his bed. What if.

"Hey, Shirley," I heard Katherine called me. I came back to this place where I was having bank transaction. "Are you alright?" she asked.

I looked around me, and I saw the man – my teller – gawking at me as if I was the oddest creature he had ever seen. "Umm, yeah, I'm alright," I answered.

"Ma'am, I'm asking if there is another thing I can help you," the Brit teller stated while pushing a piece of paper on the counter in front of me.

"Nothing, thank you," I got the receipt and read it.

We walked toward the door of the bank to exit. "Seriously, Shirley, you're weird these days. I mean, you're not in yourself. You're always daydreaming. What happened to you?"

"I'm okay, Kath, don't worry," I retorted. A cold breeze greeted us once we stepped outside the bank. There were a lot of people walking around because it was still lunch break, even to the establishments around the palace.

"If it's because of what I had said last time..." I interrupted her before she could finish her sentence.

"No, it's not," I affirmed, "Um, I'm deciding about something, and I'm thinking about it carefully."

"Is that so?" she asked for assurance.

I chuckled, "Yes."

We stopped walking in front of the store of televisions. There was a clear glass covering the displayed televisions, but the sounds of it were still audible outside, because of the speaker near the door. Maybe, the owner intended to do it to attract more customer.

The televisions showed the news about the rebels in Africa. They were holding guns, and wearing black tee shirts and pants, with masks covering their noses and mouths. On their right arm, red cloths were tied and white symbol was printed on it. I could not see clearly what it was because I was more focused on what the reporter had said.

'Two Britons who worked in a charity program in Nigeria were kidnapped and, now, were hostage by the Anti Monarchy Federation Assembly or AMFA, the revolutionaries against the United Kingdom's government. In their statement they sent in authority, they won't free the hostages not until the monarchy negotiated with them. They might kill the hostages and abduct more. AMFA also kidnapped and killed two journalists last month. There is still no confirmation where the group is located.'

The picture of the two hostages were shown on the television while there were three AMFA members standing behind them, guns in hand. The Brits were both men and maybe in their forties or early fifties.

'The palace has no comment yet with this issue,' the reporter added.

I looked at Katherine, who seemed sad and shocked by what she was seeing. "I heard about them before," I muttered, "I wonder what they'll get if they killed innocent people."

"I second the motion," Katherine agreed, still watching on one of the televisions, "But, I think, they will get the attention of the King and Queen if they did it. I just don't get it what they want from the monarchy."

I was going to say something, but I forgot what it was once I heard the newscaster reported the thing I thought I would not hear anymore.

'Prince Alexander is now in Libya for the continuation of his Africa Conference. The Prince represents U.K.'s government in the said event. But, the prince seems like he has another agenda for coming into Africa. Last night, he was photographed kissing a woman in a restaurant of one hotel. The source said that the woman was Prince Alexander's ex-girlfriend, Leilanie Jayei.'

The screen viewed a picture, which I identified clearly that the man in it was Prince Alexander. There was a blond woman in front of him, but only her back was visible. He was holding her. Their faces were vividly glued to each other. His eyes were closed. And I wanted to break the glass and hit the television right now.

The reporter asked a question that annoyed me more, 'Is Prince Alexander believes in the saying 'love is sweeter the second time around'?'

My both hands turned into fists. I blinked several times to stop myself from crying. It was like someone tore my heart into half, and stabbed it for a trillion times. I should not feel this, because he was a bastard with a capital B. However, I could not stop myself from having this damn emotion.

"Prince Alexander is still Prince Alexander no matter how long he rested to join the issues," Katherine commented that I also wanted to strangle her.

I thought he already changed for me. But, I was only ambitiously daydreaming for that thing to ever happen. Yeah, he did not sleep with random women, but he slept with his ex. Damn him. I wanted to go in Africa right now, and slap him as hard as I could.

I was a mere idiot believing in him.