The Royal Traveling Holiday

Traveling in class one, the Princess pondered what Queen Anne had at stake, wanting winning results down at the Docklands, a harbor village with seaside theme shopping. Taking a second, she dialed her good friend, Rosallion a busy talent making a long shot move attending a show in Cairo.

“Rosie,” the Princess quipped, “my mother, Queen Anne emotionally invested a huge amount, and I do not know what to do,”

“Well, my majestic companion,” Rosallion replied suggesting, “grab your royal ascot and put on your finest, make a Docklands appearance.”

Not instigating any banishment or eviction sentences handed down, due to ignoring Coventry level mistakes, undermining profitable strategies, the Princess decided she would motor around and visit the commerce city center activities. “It’s true, my best altitude is needed during all public outings,” she thought going into a winter wonderland establishment.

“Yes, I want to look like a winner on the streets of Gstaad,” the Princess remarked when a sales representative intervened.

“But the question is your highness, do or do not? Do you want to go to this place, or do you not want to go?” The knowledgeable subject dropped a hint hoping to hear the register ring.

Purchasing a whole new wardrobe the well-prepared Princess joined the second group, following proper directions as they departed, ski holiday bound.

Wearing the pricey frigid fashionable ensemble the Princess disappeared, climbing a hill and when she reached the peak, bumped into a horrific reality, “Coppull,” she screamed, “what wares are you trying to show?”

“Tell the cops I am not trying to pull anything,” the mystical deceptive creature announced, “I am here to make sure you fulfill your Coventry sentence.”

“My Coventry? What?”

“Banishment,” Coppull repeated waving a Persian wand, “andab you are out of money.”

Waking up the next morning, when the sun made its initial influential attempt in the cold place the Princess exclaimed, “it must be frost at dawn.” Grabbing the covers, she felt a little bit cozier, despite the thought there was no dinero in the bank.

Convinced father must be contacted, King Charles the third the world leader received a briefing reporting his stake, seemed sound despite unpleasant surroundings, “there are challenging slippery conditions there,” the kind hearted parental guider explained, “you see, it's a regional thing and that is the climate they show assisting them in marketing winter recreational sports.”

Hearing this the Princess decided to endure the situation and patronized a pub. After negotiating reserving group one seating, a steam heated beautiful Scottish pie was served, peering up from the dish the royal saw an exquisite sight, “a true statesman, a winner,” and concluding an American Affair could get her removed from out of the money status, the Princess performed a star lust routine, flaunting and flirting.

Staging quite a show, earning positive acknowledgements from the ruling court, stimulating the customers, watching silently stunned. “Henri Matisse,” the Princess greeted, “do you like this watering hole place.”

Keeping his mouth shut, the honored spectator shook his head affirmatively, hearing a security guard bellow out, “Sir James, Sir James do you want a ride back to the palace.”

Signaling one minute the gentleman colonists requested, “come join me we can have a night cap together?”

“Sure Henri,” The Princess agreed, and the pair retreated towards a cabin facade in the alps, “all this white snow, Henri,” were the final words the patrons heard, leaving the crowd speechless.

Following a smooth ride, arriving safely, the two demonstrated a romantic side, “we are here, St James Palace.”

“How much property stake do you have?”

“None,” he answered but my descendent who is known as St. James today never sold. Looking out the car window, the Princess saw the field of gold sending the message, he was a winner.

While the driver moved pounds around making everything level Henri adjusted his ascot accepting, the winner role, and started ascending the rising pathway softly interlocking the Princess’ arm, increasing the relationship stake, “have you ever seen the place Nürburgring and raced cars.”

Answering, 'yes’ Henri added prying the gate open, “do you mind if I show you my comfort zone?”

Feeling the truth pressure, the Princess confessed about the spell Coppull put on her, “Princess, that is divine comedy, saying you're out of the money.” The naive aristocrat joked.

Entering the mansion, an astounded Princess noticed, an enchanting hallway transition from affluent to gothic, within a second. “Galen,” Henri referenced, “It is good to see you.”

Presenting a calm and peaceful image the family philosopher shook hands, not saying a word.

“He is truly our Haatem,” Henri explained, “and will judge us as winners, I am sure.”

“Sons and lovers, out of the money,” Galen honestly declared, summoning the wolferton wolf who brought a container filled with financial advice, listed and prioritized.

“Wolferton has a stake in what Henri does,” Haatem expressed, “if you open that enfjaar then all the money-making opportunities will be made known,”

“Is this my father’s doing, show a Kings Gambit?” The Princess felt the wedding gift magic.

Twisting the lid the Princess stood back and watched the aeronautic out of the money antidote feat reveal another fellow, go forth Barnso.

“Barnso will conjure the French Master, a winner, and he will emerge in a second riding caballo de Mar, the faithful seahorse. Suddenly a colorful spotlight illuminated flash flickering theatrics featuring a Copper Horse character, holding the vacation stake.

“I have moved pounds around, you two,” the French Master, a favorite to many proclaimed, “and here is enough to send you to a cold place.”

“But we are in a cold place,” Henri retorted.

“Yeah,” the Princess clarified.

Snapping his finger the French Master laughed knowing the diamond pair were in a better setting, enjoying the sandy Samui beaches, confirming Queen Anne’s payoff, seeing her daughter finally find love and lifelong warmth.