His Royal Highness had by now slid even lower in his chair, the better to appreciate the sweet curve of her instep and her perfectly proportioned shins. As his gaze moved ever higher, imagined delights starting to chase each other in circles through his sleep addled brain like hormonally charged rabbits, it inevitably encountered the desktop and the waiting stacks again.

He would have groaned inwardly, but, not being a man who hid his feelings, groaned aloud. Slowly he sat upright, lifting his gaze to meet that of his personal assistant, Inge von Mütterlich, who had rounded the huge desk and was standing by his side. Hers were eyes of purest, crystal blue, set in a face of doll-like perfection. The figure hinted at beneath the floral print dress forced another groan from his marinated throat.

“There, there, Your Majesty, nothing like some strong coffee to get you up to speed. I’ve taken the liberty of adding extra sugar. You had a late night? I assume that the opening of the new casino last night was a success?”

She adopted a motherly tone that reached deep into his subconscious, concerned yet also with a suggestion that boys will be boys. It made him feel both like a sick child in need of care and, simultaneously, one being chastised for having taken too many cookies from the jar.

“An all-nighter, certainly. It’ll take more than coffee to get me through this paperwork. It just never seems to stop. Ouch!” he exclaimed as he gulped a mouthful of the rich, sweet brew. “What time is it?”

“Four twenty five, Your Majesty.”

“Isn’t that about the time that the civil servants go home?”

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