You are not a princess...

XIII

The sight and smell of town greeted Klaus like a bullet, as soon as the buildings and establishments started increasing along the country road. They had lost Quigley and Duncan to the horizon during their, perhaps, thirty-minute walk, so Klaus and Isadora made their way into town on their own. For his part, Klaus felt rejuvenated by the long early morning walk, instead of feeling tired as some would expect. The conversation might have had something to do with it as well, though.

"Where to?" Klaus asked his guide when the streets became more convoluted. A bit sheepishly, he confessed. "I don't think I've ever been on foot around here before."

Isadora chuckled, "I'm not surprised about that. Isn't it a bit dangerous for you to be around without your security detail?"

Klaus rubbed at his neck bashfully. "Not dangerous enough to keep me from enjoying today, I think. The security detail is for formal appearances. I doubt most people here have ever seen my face close enough to tell it's me. Especially if I'm not wearing a suit."

"You might be surprised," she said. With a grin, she twisted around and started walking backwards, so that she could see his expression in full for what she was about to say. "Your picture is usually in one magazine or other. A lot of those speculate about what you're really like. There's been all sorts of crazy theories over the years."

Klaus let himself smirk a little as he went on to tease her, "Are you saying that you read gossip magazines about me, Isadora?"

"Oh no, I don't read that stuff," she answered even though a slight blush still appeared on her cheeks. There was a playful smile coating her features, as she continued, "But Duncan's quite a fan."

He chortled at that, his laughter taking over as he looked at her serious face. However, her seriousness didn't last long, because Isadora broke and joined with her own laughter.

"It might sound funny, but I'm not joking," she added in between their chuckles. "He's always wanted to be a journalist, so he tries to read as many magazines and newspapers as he possibly can. He finds the articles about you hilarious, and he tells us about it."

"I can't believe he's never told me," Klaus said in bewilderment.

"Oh, yes he wouldn't," she admitted. She turned around again so that she was walking normally by his side once more. "They're so ridiculous I can't believe they're allowed to print them."

"Now I need to know what these magazines are saying," he said, putting his hands in his pockets, and leaning forward to catch sight of her face. She was smiling, and subconsciously Klaus thought that it was a very pretty smile.

Wait, what?

"There is no way I will be relaying that information to you," she snorted.

"Hmm, maybe I'll have to get one of those magazines myself then and see what the fuss is about," he commented, trying to sound as serious as possible.

"That would be putting yourself through torture," she warned him. She laughed as she gave him an idea of what he could expect to find. "Is prince Klaus a dog or cat person? Or is prince Klaus secretly a ballet dancer?"

Klaus laughed again. "Imagine if they knew I can barely stay on my horse," he mused. "They'd certainly wouldn't be theorizing that I'm a ballet dancer."

"I don't think that would deter them too much from coming up with more stories," Isadora said. "There are, of course, some more serious articles that discuss the possibility of you being named heir over your sister too, and some people believe that to be a good thing."

He frowned slightly at that. He'd never thought of himself as king and the times he'd been forced to contemplate the idea he'd not been able to come up with a single reason as to why it could be a positive thing.