Disclaimer: Meg Cabot and Disney own all of them. Heather is mine, but I'm not sure if that's a good thing.

Summary: Almost one year later, Heather is back. What impact does she have on the lives of Clarisse and Joseph?

A.N.: I wasn't going to do this. I told myself I wouldn't. But it seems nowadays you can't even trust yourself. So here it is, a sequel to See the Sun. P.S.: If you don't like it, blame it on Ursa. She made me do it. But if you do like it… Leave a review (: Just one more thing before I go… The devil is back, uh-oh.

Chapter 1 - Prologue

"Could you turn it up a bit, please?" She asked the bartender, and he, obviously irritated, slammed the remote control for the little TV on the counter in front of the woman. She gave him an icy stare and turned the volume up.

"Listen, lady, you've been here for two hours already, and…" He tiredly began, but she interrupted.

"Shush, darling" She said, bringing one finger to rest on her carefully painted lips.

The bartender, Pete, huffed. He had been up on his feet since four o'clock that morning, so why couldn't that woman give him a break and go home so he could finally, finally close up the pub? It had been a slow day –incredibly slow- and he had forgotten to bring a book with him, or anything else, to distract him. Next time, he promised himself, next time he would not forget the Agatha Christie book he was currently reading.

"Let's now go to the Royal Palace with our reporter Harry Sullivan. Sullivan, what have you got for us?" The news anchor on TV said, and as Pete turned his attention to the screen, a man started talking in front of the Genovia Palace.

"Thank you. What I have here, Edwards, are exclusive news yet to be reported by anyone else: Her Majesty Clarisse Renaldi was involved in a car accident last night"

"How did that happen, Sullivan?" News anchor and reporter now shared the TV, side by side on screen, opposite sides of the country.

"The information that we received, and I'm pleased to say it comes from a highly trustable source, is that the Queen was going to the Winter Castle last night, and the car she was in got caught in a storm, causing the driver to lose control of the vehicle, and crashing onto a tree."

"Who was driving, and more important, what is Her Majesty's condition?"

"Inside the vehicle were only Her Majesty and her bodyguard, Mr. Joseph Bonnell, who was on the wheel. The Queen has broken her left arm and suffered other minor injuries. Mr. Bonnell's condition is more critical. He underwent two surgeries during the last twelve hours, one of them being on his spine, and the doctors say there's 70% possibility of the damages being permanent, leaving the Castle's Head of Security paraplegic."

"What more have you gathered, Sullivan?"

"They are both still in the hospital, Edwards, but in Her Majesty's case, only for standard procedure. The doctors have yet to make an official health bulletin, as well as the Palace staff, who had not made any official announcements. Last night, around eight o'clock, merely half an hour after the accident, the Queen's personal assistant, Miss Charlotte Marshall, and Her Highness, Princess Amelia Renaldi, were both seen arriving at the hospital, very shaken up. Early this morning, the Prime Minister has also showed up to make his support known. None of them have left since."

"Thank you, Sullivan"

"Anytime, Edwards, and we will be back as soon as we have more information about Her Majesty Clarisse Renaldi."

"Those were some shocking news, Genovia" The anchor said, using a more casual tone "I am sure this will be the only topic in conversations during the next few days."

Pete couldn't blink. His Queen had been hurt? He had spent most of his life adoring her, having her as the personification of beauty and grace; she was too perfect to go through something as humanly as a car accident.

On the other side of the bar counter, the woman Pete had come to find dreadful, turned off the TV with a smug smile glued to her face.

"Well, well, well. It came sooner that I thought it would" She all but sang it.

"What came?" Pete asked, absent-mindedly, too used to the cries of drunken costumers to pay any real attention.

"The time to get back on their lives" She got up from the bar stool she had been sitting on and left, without any other word.

Behind she left Pete, good old Pete, not relieved as he thought he would be when she left, but depressed and deeply hurt by the news he had just heard. And he had thought that morning, when he woke up, that this was going to be just another day in his life as a bartender.