Original subtitles

[MUFFLED MUSIC]

-Hang on.

Check this out.

[MUSIC, "HABANERA"]

-Remember?

-No.

-You miserable cow.

It's the song they were playing at the reception when we--

You know, the one at the Savoy.

The one where we snuck off and-- You're doing this on purpose,

aren't you?

You devil.

-When the revolution comes, you are so

going to be the first up against the wall.

-Oh, class war.

Rock and roll, baby.

-Oh, shut up.

-Hey, shut up, sir.

-Shut your gob.

-Make me.

Come on, Miranda.

Make me.

[PHONES RINGING]

-Morning, Mrs. Hoop.

-Lovely morning, Peter.

-Yes, sir.

Happy birthday.

-Call you later.

Lovely day for trooping the color, sir.

[THEME MUSIC]

-Morning.

-Hi.

-Thought you might want to see the press cover.

There's, um, a nice piece about Princess Eleanor

looking radiant, and, um, quite a lot about you.

-Yeah.

-No one here believes a word of it.

I told Aribella in Fan Mail you wouldn't sleep with the king

even if he begged you.

Like that's gonna happen.

Phil?

It'd be worse if his majesty hadn't turned up this morning

for trooping the Color, wouldn't it?

-Yeah, that really would-- Oh no.

-Oh yes.

He's late.

How can he be late?

-I just got a message from Superintendent Bayfield saying

they're stuck in a traffic jam on the M3.

-But he's got a motorcade to move traffic.

-Apparently it was just Mr. Bayfield

and the king, all very low key.

-Well, what about backups?

-I'm sure he'll be here any moment.

-Do you know how to delay 1,400 troops,

200 horses, and 10 military bands?

-Uh.

-Do you see?

-I'll just, um, find out who he was visiting last night.

Tom and Jessica Howard.

-Course.

Ian.

Yeah.

I need to, um, uh-- He just showed up.

I didn't invite him.

I didn't know anything about it until he was there.

-Why did he come to your place?

-I've no idea.

-We haven't been blown up, and we're

not that late, so cheer up.

-Cheering right up, sir.

-Hey, Neil.

-Good morning, Your Majesty.

Now, we are a little tight on time,

but we should manage a quick bath before I talc you down

and squeeze you into your uniform.

-Yeah, uh, there's something I'd-- trooping The Color

does like to start on time, sir.

-Yes, yes.

Just-- I'll be a minute.

-Your Majesty.

-You Majesty.

-Your Majesty.

Happy birthday, sir.

-Miss Bettford.

How on Earth did you remember?

-I've got your card.

Well, not just me.

Um, Aribella and Trululla from F section,

from 8, and from-- from fanmail we've all mine's hand made.

I was going to ask Abigail.

-Yeah, uh, Abigail.

Where is she?

-Oh, she's just popped off to see Sir Ian.

Shall I call her back?

-No I'll, uh-- I'll find her.

-I'll get her to give you--

-No.

Don't bother her.

-What do you do two have to talk about so late at night?

-What are you implying?

-Nothing more than the national press.

Is this the King's lover?

The hang, where is it?

The Mirror is unusually colorful.

-Thanks, Ian.

I'm not sleeping with him, you know that.

SIR IAN: So what were you talking about?

-I don't want to betray his confidence.

-You work for me, not him.

-Can't we at least issue a denial?

-We don't comment on tiddle taddle.

-Ian, the press are all over me.

They've gone through my bins, they've run my family, friends,

they've even rented the flat opposite

so they can get more shots.

-Ride it out.

-Well then, I'll need to sleep here.

Someone will have to come and bring me clothes

and-- why are you being such a prick about this?

-What did you and His Majesty discuss last night?

Don't let me keep you.

-What about me?

Do you think he'd notice if I signed it?

Love and kisses, Ellie.

Oh, Vinny!

Good morning!

-Good morning, Your Royal Highness.

-Tell me it's not true.

-Ma'am?

-That you tried to woo my beautiful Ruby

with a Prince George memorial mug.

I mean what were you thinking?

-I thought it was ironic.

-Men.

We just want to be swept off our feet, isn't that right, Ruby?

-Well I don't think he could lift me.

-Yes I could.

-I think I shall have to punish you.

Shall I send him to the tower?

Or worse, Australia?

[LAUGHTER]

Vinnie, you have been extremely naughty.

But you can redeem yourself with a teeny weeny piece of gossip.

-Um, well I-- Actually, I did just

come from Sir Ian's office.

He was giving Abigail the third degree.

-Oh no, the poor thing.

-Sir Ian was really cross with her

for keeping something from him.

-Oh, secrets.

How delicious.

-Yes ma'am.

-And Sir Ian can be terrifying, can't he?

-Yes ma'am.

The way he was going on at her, you'd

think she really was having an affair with your brother.

-My brother?

You mean His Majesty, the king?

-Y-Yes ma'am.

The king, ma'am.

-Well, he would never stoop so low.

Do you understand me?

Think that's enough play time.

-Ah, look.

His Majesty is too busy for Queen Charlotte.

Get over it.

-You are the page of the back stairs, aren't you?

-Ah, the last time I looked, yes, my dear boy.

-It's not enough to be his gatekeeper.

You have to know his secrets too,

if you're going to protect him properly.

WOMAN: Good morning, Your Majesty.

-Your Majesty.

-David.

Such a shame about this morning.

-Yes, I must try and--

-No need to explain.

I'm just minor royalty these days.

-On the country, ma'am.

We were just saying--

-Everything's so damn tight.

-Your Majesty.

-Oh, mommy.

Hello.

-You look just like him.

Your Majesty.

-Are you-- Look, come-- Neil.

We're all right for 10 minutes, aren't we?

-No, sir.

We have-- You have trooping the color.

I'm a bother.

Silly of me.

Excuse me.

-Sir.

We really need to be on our way.

-Look at him all dressed up.

I mean, how much action can you actually see

guarding the Knight's Bridge barracks.

-I wish I smoked.

This is just the sort of time I should

be sucking down 40 types of cancer.

-Why don't you just tell us what you and the king were doing?

-Because-- Come on, you must have secrets about Princess

Eleanor that you won't share.

If the King thinks that he can't trust me,

then I should quit right now.

Oh come-- You don't-- You don't think-- Oh, well.

Thanks a bundle.

-Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

Shit no.

What, you and him?

When you've got me with all my palaces and family money?

-You big dope.

-It's just how it works around here, always has.

Loyal servants falling on their sword to protect the monarch.

You know that.

-Well, I never felt like a servant.

-Well, then you're stupid.

I hope she's worth it.

I really do.

I hope she's going to end up as queen

and you're not just covering up something

that's going to end anyway.

-Well, she won't be queen.

She's married.

It's stupid.

They've got no chance.

They got no bloody chance.

I don't know why they-- It's Miranda Hill.

Yeah.

So I'm hardly protecting the future of the British Monarchy,

am I?

You-- you know, if Ian had just asked me

like I was a human being, not some pawn in his royal chess

game, then I might've told him.

-Look, they're going to be off to the balcony

this afternoon, Philip. -Yeah.

-Thanks.

-It's Miranda Hill, ma'am.

-I'm disappointed, ma'am.

-Why?

-The table's set for three.

I always preferred our more private soirees.

-Well darling, you're editor of the news of the world.

Filthy journals, like you don't say soiree.

-I'm just trying to push myself up a bit.

-So you are.

-Your Royal Highness.

-Come on over here.

-Shall we?

George doesn't like to dine with the enemy.

-I'm not that bad.

-Course you're not, which is why you're not going to print

any more articles about His Majesty

and his assistant private secretary.

-I'm not?

-Well it's silly.

-Says who?

-Tell me.

You're not the only bully around here, my darling.

-No, ma'am.

-And I mean, if there was a lover, she wouldn't be an APS.

She'd be a woman of substance.

-You know who she is?

-Of course not.

-Like she'd tell you.

-No, I'm sure you wouldn't.

So what is his type, then?

-What isn't?

Hang on, you, um--

-Relax, Georgie, no one's going to print anything.

Will knows how this works.

The King does it all the time.

-Does he?

-Of course.

PR meetings, leaks to favorite journalists,

evenings with Downing Street's press machine.

-Oh, Miranda Hill?

-Mmm.

Those ones go on and on.

-Jesus Christ, I can't stand Miranda Hill.

I mean, whoever heard of a socialist called Miranda?

Especially one who wears Prada?

-Ian!

Ian.

You're coming with me to see the King right now.

-What?

-Right now.

-Tell you what, Princess Eleanor was right.

You do deserve something.

-Vinny, the Palace gift shop's really not my thing.

-No, no, no.

Something big.

Sweep you right off your feet.

Something romantic.

Yeah.

Your wait.

It's going to blow you away.

-Sir.

I think we have to tell Sir Ian about, um-- you know.

-About?

-The News of the World have been tipped off.

They're going to press on Sunday.

-Please, look, am I, um, missing something?

-A woman at the center of the innuendos,

concerning His Majesty-- the stories about his personal--

-My lover.

-Yes, sir.

Thank you, sir.

It's Miranda Hill.

-How do they know?

-Miranda Hill?

A married woman?

A politician?

You're risking it all on her, we are working away and you--

-I think we should just focus--

-Does Abigail know as well?

So I'm the only fool not to have been told.

-His Majesty made a promise on TV,

now he may be exposed as a liar.

-What if I say I don't care.

I'm staying with her, stuff what anyone thinks.

-The public won't stand for it.

-But what does that mean?

-It means-- it means it's over.

-So that thing you said before, about knowing his secrets,

I've been making sure I've hung around a bit more,

listened in when only I mind my own business,

and you know what?

I kind of wish I hadn't heard any of it.

-Oh, I'm sorry.

The burdens of our masters weigh heavily upon us.

-Yes, it's a pisser!

-Maybe-- Maybe I might share some of the burden?

-Hey, Ruby.

How come you're up here?

-Vinny.

Told me to come up here and look out.

Oh, Vinny!

-I need to tell you something.

Um, the woman.

Um, the woman that the press are after.

The King's lover.

It's me.

I haven't told my husband yet.

I wanted to tell you first because-- well I

can imagine you must be thinking.

I have always been 100% loyal to you.

However compromised I've been.

-Compromised?

Is that the word?

You'll have my resignation within the hour.

-Here.

Sit down.

It's a report from five.

They've been intercepting phone calls between you

two for, uh, oh, 18 months now.

I know you've both been very careful, new phones

and the like, but, heh, believe me,

when these boys want to find something out,

they generally do.

They brought it to my attention, uh, last June.

I knew you'd probably let me know

when you felt the time was right.

Like when the king decided he wanted to pick a fight,

you could've put him straight.

-I did try.

-You know, I always had you down as a republican.

-You know, I don't-- I don't have to explain myself.

-Please.

Spare me the grisly details.

You're not resigning.

You're not even splitting up with him.

Do you really think I'd let go an opportunity like this?

Come on.

You must've known.

-You think I'd have let it carry on if I did?

I mean, of all people.

-He does pick them.

-But the press on this one.

A married woman.

A-- A connection to you.

-I think I can control the press,

if he promises on the never-ever.

And we should be all right.

-All right?

-Ian.

I don't think they should split up.

He needs her.

She's a good influence.

Listen.

King's young.

Course he's going to find it a little rocky to start with,

but Miranda can guide him.

And in a few years' time, he'll be trained.

-She told you, and you've asked her-- Surely

she's not gonna carry on now that she knows you want her to.

-Miranda has a reputation, a husband,

and a career to protect.

She's going to be fine.

-Fine?

She's anything but fine.

The press are after a lover.

Do you think they're gonna stop 'til they find her?

-So, let's give them one.

-Who?

-Well, I was thinking of Abigail Thomas.

-You look tired.

-It's been busy.

You must be too, having to come here, working so late.

-Abby, I think we both know I'm not here on state busy.

-Mrs. Hill.

He's waiting for you.

-When I heard them play that tune at the trooping

of the color, I didn't know where to look.

-I thought you'd tell me it was tacky.

-Well.

-Finally, she's impressed.

-I love you.

-You know about this deal.

-Yeah.

-Yeah, I get to tell the world I was screwing Abigail Thomas,

and I have to make her say it's true.

Ian says the press will get bored with her in time.

Is he right?

-In time.

-But before then, what am I asking her to do?

-You're asking her to protect you.

And me.

-Yeah.

-The press will kick me to pieces.

You know that. -Does the PM know about this?

-No, of course not.

I knew about the risks when we started,

but I didn't know that you would be so you.

-Oh, I love hearing you talk.

I could listen to you for hours.

The way you use words.

-Well, somebody has to educate the idiot ruling classes.

-Oh, I'm not worthy.

But Mary, it can't work.

-Yes it can.

You're the king. You can do anything.

-Yeah?

Since when?

-Don't you want to help me?

-Yes, but we have to be honest with each other.

-Honest?

Fine. Kick me out, then.

Go on.

No look.

No, I'm not like you, I don't live in a bulletproof palace.

-Mary, stop.

-I'm scared, OK?

Can't you see that?

Is this is honest enough for you now?

You begged me to come back, and I love you so I did.

I love you, and you love me.

It's simple.

Please, Rich.

Don't throw me out to them.

Please.

Don't please.

-God, I won't.

I won't.

I promise.

-How little do you think of me? -On the contrary.

-You want to shove me all over the front

pages just so he can continue--

-I want you to make a sacrifice for His Majesty, yes.

Would he do the same for me?

He does, every day.

-They'll print stuff about me, I'll he King's whore!

-Oh, don't be so melodramatic.

-Why don't you take the fall?

-Somehow I didn't think they'd buy

the idea of me and His Majesty.

Come on, look.

It's an attractive offer.

It's a beautiful property, yours for life,

and there will be other favors.

We-- we don't forget.

You will be secure for life.

-No.

-Abigail.

-No, and if you kick me out, if you get him to release

that bullshit story, then I'll go to the press

and I'll tell them the truth. -No you won't.

Forget the offer.

I want you to do for him.

I want you to do your job as APS and protect him.

-Does he know about this?

-Of course.

-And what did he say when you suggested this?

-Well he was very angry and upset.

I told him it was your idea.

-Well I want to see him.

Take it.

Abigail, we all adore you, but we live in a world

where people want their Kings to be Gods.

Things get broken.

-Hey, Abby.

-Hi.

-What's happened?

-Someone's leaked her name.

-What?

-The press know about Miranda Hill.

-Shit!

No.

OK, that's good right?

What?

Abby, I swear on my mother's life,

I did not leak Miranda Hill's name to the press.

OK?

-OK. I need to see the King.

-Abby!

Whoa, talk to me.

-Simon, they're going to print the story.

-What story?

-The one that says I'm the King's lover.

-But you're not.

-No, but they need me to-- you know

I am just a servant, after all.

[KNOCKING]

-Ms. Thomas for you, sir.

-Um, I have the boxes for you, sir.

-OK.

Uh, just over here, please.

-Yes, sir.

-Is there anything else?

-No, sir.

If that's everything, I'll be heading home.

RICH: Right.

Very well.

Good night, then.

-Good night, Your Majesty.

-So to my wonderful, amazing, private secretary.

To you!

-No, I just, um--

-Shush!

To a man who has gone beyond duty, and don't be embarrassed.

I bet you gave that Abigail the time of her life.

I should be jealous.

Tell me what she said, again.

-She said she'd take the money and the property

and then sell Miranda to the-- -No, no.

Not that, bit.

The bit about Richard.

-Being beneath her?

-Priceless.

That is priceless.

-Ma'am is there any way that we can stop Abigail

from taking the fall for the King?

I think what he's doing is disgusting,

you'd never do such a thing to me.

I think we should find some way of protecting her.

-Then I might not win.

You do want me to win, don't you?

-Yes, of course, ma'am.

-So what were you saying?

-Nothing.

Nothing, ma'am.

[RINGING]

-Stop fidgeting.

-Well hurry up, then.

What is all that, anyway?

-This is a new forward for a WI cookbook

that I have to approve, and these are me looking

ghastly in my royal voluntary service uniform.

-Let's see.

-No you don't.

Go away, you horrible child.

What do you want, anyway?

-I think it's time I came clean.

With you.

With me.

With the public.

Mommy.

I'm gay.

-Has it come to this?

My valuable time taken being teased by the spare?

-I used to be queen.

I used to be adored by millions.

-You still are, mommy.

-How's the king?

You're not talking?

So he has to do it on his own.

-Eleanor's there.

He doesn't want me.

-No, darling.

He doesn't want me.

Our king only has time for Miranda Hill, nowadays.

And smart though she is, other people.

-He-- He's seeing Miranda Hill?

-Oh, darling.

I do with you'd drop this ingenue routine.

It's nearly as awful as the gay one.

[KNOCKING]

-Yeah.

-Your Majesty.

Your brother, Prince George.

-Are you busy?

-Not for you, mate.

-Fancy chiming pints and a game of cricket?

Freddy's on 98.

Freddie, looking for his 100.

And in comes Curtley Ambrose.

-Sorry.

Sorry, it slipped from my hand.

-Yeah.

So, with the rest of the batting lineup in all sorts of trouble

after a dodgy curry, it's left to the big Freddie.

Ah.

God, what is your problem?

-You hypocrite.

-What?

-We have to do the right thing, mate.

Yeah, I have to.

You get to shag around as much as you--

-Hey, hey. -You would've sent me to jail!

-It was different!

-Why? 'Cause you're the king and I'm just the spare?

-No.

It's just that I'm--

-You selfish bastard.

-I love her.

-Well someone get out the violins.

-If I stop now, it'll make no difference.

I'll just be even lonelier.

You don't talk to me anymore.

-Yeah, well.

-And mommy's mad as ever.

Eleanor just freaks me out with her perfect bloody--

-Everything.

-Yeah.

I stop, and I'll-- I can't s-- stop.

You don't want me to pour my heart out to you, do you?

-God no.

-Mm.

-Bet she's rubbish at cricket.

-Well, she's got a nice reverse sweep.

-You tit.

-Yeah.

-King Tit.

-His majesty King Tit V.

-Just be the man, cut her loose, Stop embarrassing us all.

-And what if I can't?

-Then piss off together to the bloody Caribbean.

Live happily ever after.

It's bloody obvious.

Jesus Christ.

I could be king if it's this bloody easy.

Y--

-Jesus.

I wish you had been screwing him.

Then at least you'd have something to write about.

-I've got enough to write about.

-Oh.

Well, we're fine then.

You've doubled your money.

Shed load from us, shed load from them.

-Yeah.

-So?

-I just wanted to leave on my own terms.

I don't want my book to be written

by a bitter ex-employee.

-Oh, don't worry about that.

That'll all add to the spice of the sales pitch.

Everyone loves a bitter, darling.

It's funny.

I can never read you.

Half of me thinks you're pissed off because he's dumping you.

I mean, you're hardly his girl, are you?

Queen Abigail?

I don't know, it's got a certain ring to it, I guess.

-I can do gin and sin, gin and French,

gin and eight, gin and sadness.

Recognize the theme?

-He covered my room in rose petals last night.

-Oh.

Bless.

-It's really doing my head in.

-It's just Vinny.

Aw, he's sweet.

-I don't want sweet.

Um, talking doesn't stop you pouring, Dibs.

I want a, um-- I want a man who-- normally I

go for guys who are a bit nasty, you know?

Rough.

A bit scary, even.

It's a turn on.

Vinny's a-- oh, bless him, he's lovely,

but Jesus it's like I'm shagging my brother.

-Ew!

-Yeah.

-She's going to dump me, isn't she?

No, I don't think so.

Well--

-I've been giving her the full Vinny treatment, man.

-Yeah, I think that's the problem.

-What?

-I think what she said was she'd prefer things a bit nastier.

-Nastier?

What, she used that word?

Nasty?

-Yeah.

-What, like, nasty sex?

-I don't know.

Ruby's mad, mate.

-Just she--

-It was a few gins down, she said nastier.

Rougher.

Yeah, I think she did mean sex.

-Your Majesty.

Uh, should we go somewhere?

-What do you think of this business with Abigail?

-Not a lot.

-Come on, say it.

-All she did was open the front door to you.

She doesn't deserve it.

-You think Miranda deserves it?

-I think we'll lose either way.

-Your Majesty.

Good morning.

Perhaps we can continue any conversation out of public eye.

-What will actually happen if they

find out about Miranda and me?

-They'll come after you, sir.

We might reach tipping point, no recovery.

-Jonti?

-Oh, we'll I'd certainly be busy.

-Yeah, and Miranda?

-It could get very bloody for her.

We don't half love taking one of our to pieces.

-Pieces.

Abigail understands, she's happy with the offer.

You've no need--

-I want to know what deals you've done with the PM.

-You have to be protected.

You and the family.

Think of the pain this would cause your mother,

think of the damage you could be doing

to everything you were born to protect.

Please, sir.

Please do your duty in this.

-Jonti, talk to the editor of the news of the world.

Tell him-- tell him about Miranda and me,

and make sure nothing is ever written about Abigail.

-Sir.

RICH: And make sure he knows he's getting an exclusive.

They owe us.

-Yes, sir.

I'm sorry this is so painful for you.

-It's what's gotta be done.

Come on.

Get Miranda back in.

She can come in the front door this time.

-Yes, sir.

-Sir, my intentions throughout all of this is not only to pr--

-They want me to open a recreational sports

facility, in Tooting.

-Please, ma'am.

-Well, it is London I suppose.

Just--

-Ma'am.

-The King is busy, Jeremy.

-Ma'am he needs you.

[RINGING]

You can start unpacking.

Deal's off.

And the offer you got, I want the paper back

on my desk in ten minutes.

If I find out you begged him to do this,

if you said anything to him--

[KNOCKING]

-Drink?

-No.

I made you a promise.

I'm sorry.

-I always knew I shouldn't have gotten involved with your lot.

Bloody daft.

-Oh, no.

-Miranda.

-I don't know what I was thinking.

I like you.

I'm sorry.

Take care of him.

Your Majesty.

-Your Majesty.

[KNOCKING]

-Your Majesty.

Her Majesty, Your Majesty.

Your mother would like to see you.

-No.

-Sir.

She's come to the door.

I don't think I can turn her away.

Why not?

Why can't you?

-Darling.

-Yeah.

-Oh.

I know you're far too busy to see me.

You OK?

-Yeah, I need a drink.

Want one?

-It's a little early for me.

Richard.

I'm worried about you. -Oh, finally.

Here comes the cavalry.

Just in time.

-I've tried leaving you alone.

But you have a lot to learn.

-From you?

-Let's do some joint events, just as your father

would sometimes do with Ellen.

-What's wrong with the duties you've already got?

-Well, I don't do sports centers,

but anyway, that's not what I'm--

-You don't do the duties asked of you.

David!

Be a mate, thanks.

-I have never shirked my duties.

Not once.

-Oh, what's this, then?

-I'd like to be more involved in your life.

-To show me how to do what you-- -No, your father and I--

-You don't even go outside the palace.

Do you actually know what's out there?

-Yes, Richard.

It's full of nasty, mean, selfish people

who want to hurt you.

-Not a clue.

-I know about your lover.

I know about the deal she did with the PM,

and I know she would've betrayed you.

They all will, now you're king.

-Go away, please.

-Richard!

-You don't know her. -I am trying to help you, Rich--

-I don't know what kind of mind games you're trying to play.

-No, I am not. -But she never--

-I'm simply trying--

-She-- You don't get to talk about her!

-Will you listen to me? I'm your mother!

-Yeah?

So I heard.

The lodge at Windsor has been fitted

out to your exacting demands.

It's ready for you now.

For some reason, you refuse to leave the palace.

Well, you may go there now.

-Oh, this'll run for weeks.

It's front page of all the red tops.

Heir to the Bone.

The Sin King.

King Ding-a-ling.

They're getting more confident.

Nastier.

-Oh, it's very coarse, isn't it?

-I need to get you out there.

The alternative.

The beautiful, graceful, serene.

A children's hospice, maybe.

-I leave it all to you, my maestro.

I'm sorry, by the way.

-Sorry, ma'am?

-About Abigail.

I thought she'd be gone.

Is she hanging off you in desperate need for comfort?

-She's no bother.

-Well, she seems a bit of a bother.

Ditch her.

-She's useful.

-Loyal and never complaining.

Mon erreur.

-Ma'am.

[SQUEALING]

-You.

Girl.

Bitch.

Get in here.

-Did you just call me a bitch?

-Yeah.

And shut up!

You like this, right?

Yeah.

Now you're gonna come over here and get what you deserve,

because I'm gonna bitch slap you 'til you beg me for mercy.

You woman thing.

And if you argue back, you're gonna

feel the back of my-- Look.

I'm not actually gonna-- But you be careful, though.

Because I'm bad.

Now you, take your bloody clothes off

and get ready for a right scene.

-Oh.

Oh, Vinny.

-I have the boxes for you, sir.

-Oh, just take them inside and I'll

uh-- I'll look through them later.

Honestly, I'm not sure I can--

-Yes, sir.

Thank you.

-Do you need anything else?

-No, sir.

If that's all, I'll be heading home.

Good night, Your Majesty.

-Night, Abigail.

-King Tit V.

-Yeah, that's me.

[THEME MUSIC]