King of the Belgians Page #2

you must stay here.

- Here in Istanbul?

- No, in this hotel.

All foreign dignitaries

are being centralized here.

- How long must we wait?

- One day, one week, it's not clear.

Do you remember the Icelandic

volcano, Eyjajafufukukul?

- Eyjafjallajkull.

- Yes.

- I must get home to Belgium immediately.

- I understand, Your Majesty.

Everyone is being inconvenienced

by this situation.

I personally had my promotion

scheduled for this week.

If it is impossible to fly,

then we shall go by road.

- By road? Through the Balkans?

- Yes.

Crossing those territories

in such unstable times

is definitely not an option,

Your Majesty.

Why not?

Because it's the Balkans.

So?

- The Balkans, I mean.

- Yes, so?

Unstable.

Unstable.

It's Bulgaria, Serbia...

Romania, Albania, Macedonia...

- Excuse me.

- Your Majesty. Excuse me.

- We'll have a meeting. We're coming back.

- It's ok.

- You must understand...

- Sire.

Wait a minute, please.

We have to find a solution.

It is not possible,

Your Majesty.

Excuse me, I have to go.

Mr. Lloyd, not now.

I try to speak with Turkish

security and Mr. Bulut.

Maybe even with the Ambassador.

I'm going to take the luggage.

Sire, I will try

to see if there's network.

Excuse me.

Where is the Ambassador?

I used to cover

wars and revolutions.

Then I drank for a decade,

haunted by demons.

Profiling royals got me back

on my feet.

Let's face it,

history was in the making here.

But my position was getting dodgier

by the minute.

So I hatched a plan that

just might keep me in business.

Carlos, suppose I could get

us all out of here.

- You heard the man.

- I am an expert in getting from A to B.

- You mean B, like in Belgium?

- How about B for Bulgaria?

- What?

- You see these lovely ladies?

The legendary Black Sea Sirens.

Folk singers.

Their gig has been canceled.

And tomorrow they will leave

by bus for Bulgaria.

- The protocol will never go for that.

- Look, here's the deal.

I shoot a music video for them and

they get us out of here. Incognito.

Forget about it.

- Don't you want to get your king home?

- Sure.

Perhaps we should

talk to the boss.

- Sire.

- Yes, I can not concentrate.

Please.

The coincidence between

universes and the kingdom...

The dysfunction

of nature and man...

This yearning for independence

devise every age, doesn't it, Mr. Lloyd?

It brought our kingdom to life in 1830

and may now cause its fall.

But what is the true nature

of this independence?

This so-called freedom?

I have to find the way

to touch the people's heart.

What does your heart say, sire?

Carlos? Mr. Lloyd?

Look at that.

It's beautiful.

It comes from the solar storm.

Sire, there are no flights.

No, I understand, Carlos.

But we have an escape plan.

Explain yourself.

The Black Sea Sirens.

The Black Sea... what?

And action.

No action!

Ladies, please.

Take two.

Sire, I can not take the

responsibility of this farce.

I understand, Ludovic.

But focus now on your femininity.

- It is madness. We can not do it.

- I agree, but it was decided.

We have no other choice.

It is now or never.

But sire, we can not leave

without protocol and security.

In fact, sire, it is undeniable

that there are dangers.

- The dangers are always everywhere.

- But Mr. Lloyd will not come with us.

Mr. Lloyd is the architect

of our escape, Louise.

- He is very creative.

- Mr. Lloyd comes with us, with his camera.

We will capture our journey

back home for the people.

Point final.

What do we do with the Atomium?

Mr. Lloyd?

Go, go, go.

To be honest with you, I didn't

expect the king to go for my plan.

But we really needed to get out of Turkey

and back into the EU.

So here are all us with a king in drag

who was pondering the nature of freedom.

Please, do you really

have to do it right now?

Yeah, I have to, I'm itchy.

It's unbearable.

I'm almost done.

But what is it?

Maybe it's the shock

of the news.

The secession of Wallonia.

Think about how it feels.

Do you know that we have many

French words in Bulgarian?

- Yes?

- Yes, like...

Lift.

Bidet.

I want to show you Mascia,

Ivana and Pavlina.

This is my three daughters.

- Three daddies.

- Stay silent, Ana.

Do you have children?

No.

It's okay. You have time.

You are a man.

From Istanbul. It's better quality

than Bulgarian. I keep it.

- Look, she ate a coin.

- A coin?

Yep.

Kebab accident.

Border!

Hurry, hurry.

Be like a woman.

As the border guard approached,

I did some real heavy sweating.

I had dark visions of being locked up,

stripped naked.

My camera confiscated.

This hadn't before, my dear.

Luckily, our clandestine border crossing

coincided with another drama.

Sorry, Nicolas, but we have

some identity crisis.

- Crisis?

- We do not agree on anything.

Nothing. Nothing.

The old generation wants tradition

and we want fusion.

In Istanbul we were supposed

to be on television.

For the first time in many years.

Stupid storm.

But Mr. Lloyd here will

make a music video.

Yes, I hope so.

That first take was actually

just for fun.

I guess they just had

to get out of their system.

The real song for the music

video is a cosmic classic.

So, Mr. Lloyd, is this the

extent of the escape plan?

- Miss?

- Ana.

Ana, yes, could you inform us

about transportation?

Yes, Sofia is that way.

Thank you.

A taxi? Maybe a bus

or something?

Not so much. Maybe tomorrow.

Tomorrow? And what about that car?

Is it possible to buy that car?

No, no. It's too old.

It's not working for many years.

The Black Sea Sirens were headed

to the right to the Black Sea.

We needed to go left

to Sofia.

Ana just happened to live

at that crossroads.

My mama will help you

find a solution.

- Hello.

- She'll take you.

- Thank you.

- Come, come.

Sit, you are welcome.

Nicolas?

Sauces for kebab.

Maison. I made it.

It's nice.

This is yogurt with...

some kind of... like this one.

- Yes, dille.

- Dille?

- Yes, dille. You say...

- Dille. It's very good sauce.

This is mayonnaise.

This is some vinaigrette with...

- With garlic.

- Oh, yes.

And this is lyutenitsa.

It looks like ketchup,

but it's natural.

Do you want to try?

Me?

Mr. Lloyd?

What?

Oh my god.

It's mister Turkish security.

Christ.

I think he would have accompanied

us to Sofia's embassy.

Absolutely not. The escape of the king

would be a humiliation for the Turks.

It could cause a

diplomatic incident.

Mr. Bulet would bring us back to

Istanbul to overthrow the scandal.

Let's go home.

In an ambulance.

Ludovic, we have to stop

shooting right away.

- Mr. Lloyd, that's enough.

- Louise, please, Duncan films our journey.

Ludovic?

- Sire?

- I would like to drive myself.

Excuse me?

You heard me well.

Given the circumstances for

insurance and safety reasons.

I think it's better

that I handle all your movements.

Ludovic, let him drive.

- I don't want interferences from the waiter.

- Ludovic.

The clutch does not work well.

Do not stay in the first gear,

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