If I could be anywhere, I'd be with Zipporah and we'd be relaxing in bed. Not cleaning up the mess made by one of RI's senior supervisors.

I groan, neatening up another stack of papers regarding our work with Maier Incorporated. The project, in the works for three years, has been set back and maybe destroyed. Herr Gensch managed to lose and mix up 95% of the data and associated papers. He's one of most senior employees! Grandfather told me this happens more than I think and to keep a cool head.

It's already 10 pm. I'm tired after several hours spent trying to fix the issue. I look at my watch in frustration, "Why..!" I growl. I had to drop Zipporah off at home after the appointment and immediately rush here. I haven't had a breather since.

"Basil, how's it coming?" Grandfather carefully inquires, stepping into the office. I set the papers down with a soft huff, flexing my fingers.

"In all honesty, I'm doing the best I can." I reply sharply. He softens his gaze and pats my shoulder.

"Basil, go home. We'll continue tomorrow."

"Dankeschön."

"Bitte. Now go." His voice prompts my feet to move swiftly. I find myself approaching the private lot in a blink. I cover several yawns, shaking my head to dispel my exhaustion.

"Your highness." The curt tone snaps me around to see none other than Ziska. I'm too tired to care about her malevolent aura. I furrow my brows and clear my throat.

"Ziska."

She marches over and plants her hands on her hips, "I have a few choice words for you, your highness. I am telling you to back down from the throne immediately and denounce your claim." Again with the throne and my titular claim. She lost her cases, so this must be her last ditch effort to assure I don't ascend to kingship.

"Ziska, I've never been interested in the throne. Now that I'm taking over Rask Industries, I have no need or desire for royal life." I reply as politely as can be managed.

"Denounce your title then!" She shrieks, voice full of venom. I shake my head.

"I can't."

"Of course you can! You married a slutty Amerikanerin [American (female)] and she's carrying a child already, probably not even yours!-" She continues her scorching lecture and I harden my eyes, not taking kindly to her words towards Zipporah and our son.

"Frau Ziska, if you ever accost my wife and my unborn child or berate them indirectly, I will see to it that you are prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law for harassment." I reprimand, unleashing my built up fury. She purses her lips. Defiance. Hate. I stare her down, daring her to continue her rant. Without another word I spin on my heel and march proudly to my car.

In minutes I'm walking into my home, locking up and trudging upstairs. I haphazardly change into my nightclothes and get everything ready for tonight. Zipporah lifts her head from her pillow, eyes weary, "Welcome home, Basil." She senses my distress and extends her arms. I climb in beside her and melt into her embrace.

Ziska (Omniscient)

"How dare he! How dare they!" She cursed, pacing in her apartment. Her mind filling with images of Felicie and her offspring. A wretched tool to legitimize her queenship and ruin all that Ziska had worked laboriously to achieve.

Not to mention, the american pauper of an expat and that baby, "There's no way they'd get pregnant so soon! She has to be carrying someone else's baby and is a dirty gold digger besides being Basil's tool to uproot my legacy! That child could secure him as an heir to the throne if something happens to Kuni-bär or Wolfie. That can't happen."

Her eyes flick and she pulls at her ashy hair. There has to be a way to put everything right. To destroy Felicie and her legacy. Make them pay!

She stomps, glaring at the television screen where there is a news report of the royal family's plans for an International Expo in June. A picture of the entire family flashes onscreen. Ziska, suddenly enlightened, grabs her spiked heel, hurling it at the screen. The heel impales the smiling but austere face of the newest royal.

"Of course! She's become an adored pet, that Zipporah. Nearly everyone likes her! Even my own daughters have admitted she's a wonderful girl to be around..," Ziska hisses slyly, walking over to her phonebook, "But I'm not alone in my hatred of that conniving slut." She looks through and dials one of the numbers in haste, a cruel smile spreading across her thin lips.

"Hallo?"

"Fritzi Rask, this is Queen Ziska. I understand that you were forced out of your betrothal to Prince Basil because he was enamored by one Zipporah Roux."

"I wasn't forced. It was my own fault that I made a mess of myself. I'm happy that they let me out. If you're trying to get my help, go find someone else." The call cuts off and Ziska growls before trying another number.

"Hallo..."

"Helmut, dearie, how've you been?"

~Uilosris