Disclaimer: Sue and I don't own any of these characters, since Princess Diaries 1 & 2, and its characters are the property of Disney, Buena Vista, and Meg Cabot, and so unfortunately we aren't making any money from this work of fiction.

Summary: This started out as an idea based on "What if Joseph had been married before and had lost his wife when Clarisse lost Rupert?" ... and Sue and I took it from there ...

Second Time Around

Clarisse looked once more into her mirror to make sure that when Olivia had renewed the makeup, the tiny stress lines around her eyes were well hidden. She picked up her gloves and took a deep breath before smiling at her ladies' maids and stepping out of her room. Tonight was the first time she had been willing to leave the palace since hearing of Philippe's accident last week. But today she and Rupert had received word that their son had been taken off the critically-injured list, and Rupert had insisted they go out to celebrate. A world-famous Genovian singer was doing a show at the Opera House that evening, and Rupert wanted to go.

"Besides," Rupert had encouraged his wife that afternoon, "she IS almost family!"

"I beg your pardon?" Clarisse had stared at him as if he were a lunatic. "What do you mean, FAMILY?"

"Well, you DO remember she is married to Joe, didn't you?"

"Joe?" Clarisse had repeated blankly.

Rupert had rolled his eyes. "Clarisse, my darling, you are going to have to start paying more attention to the people who are important to us ... the ones who uphold the monarchy. Joe! Our Head of Security!"

"Oh! Oh, of course. Joseph." Clarisse had never even THOUGHT of Joseph as 'Joe'. Using nicknames or shortened names was not something she was accustomed to doing, although when she thought about it, she HAD heard Joseph referred to frequently as 'Joe'. It didn't fit for her, though. However, she had dismissed the thought almost immediately. How ridiculous, to even be thinking about a man's name and whether or not it 'fit'! "Yes, that's right. Joseph and ... Nan, isn't that her 'real' name? I know her stage name is Anna. Didn't they get married shortly after we did?"

Grinning, Rupert had nodded. "You DO pay attention, don't you? Must be just aging, that's why you momentarily forgot. Plus, Nan IS on tour a lot, and Joe is busy with us. You have to wonder what kind of marriage they have. However, I've heard they're madly in love with each other still, even after all these years."

Clarisse still felt the same sting now as she had three hours previously when Rupert had made the comment. Rupert hadn't MEANT to hurt her, she was sure, but nonetheless, he had. She loved Rupert as a very, very dear friend, but she had never been IN love with him. The saving consolation was that he had never been in love with her, either. Somehow Clarisse could think of nothing worse than a one-sided love. But then, what did she know about love? She had never BEEN in love! Not even puppy love! It was a rather sad thing for someone over sixty to have to admit, which is why she had never ever admitted it aloud to anyone. After all, she was the Queen of Genovia! She had been married to Rupert for over forty years, and they had two grown sons. How could she NOT have been in love with Rupert? And yet ... she wasn't, and she never had been.

"Your Majesty?"

Pulled back to the present, Clarisse abruptly tamped down on her thoughts and, smiling automatically, looked at the young security guard nervously watching her. "Is King Rupert waiting?"

"Yes, your Majesty. He is in the car already."

"Then I suppose we must hasten," and she swept away at once.

In the back of the limousine, Clarisse noted Rupert's distraction, and wondered at it. He wasn't looking very well, she realized, and decided that their son's accident had obviously taken its toll on him. Perhaps she should have Rupert see a doctor. His breathing seemed shallow and quick, and somewhat strained. Yet they had received good news today! Was Rupert keeping something from her? She was about to question him, when they arrived at their destination and the moment was lost. Inside the Opera House, Prime Minister Motaz and his wife were waiting for them. The four made their way to the Royal Box, with Joseph and two other security guards trailing the entourage.

As she entered, Clarisse hesitated by Joseph's side, and said quietly to him, "I am looking forward to hearing your wife, Joseph. I must admit I have never heard her sing before."

"Then, if you will allow me to say it, you're in for a treat, Your Majesty," Joseph smiled at her. "Nan has a lovely voice."

Clarisse nodded, noticing the love shining in the man's eyes as he spoke of his wife. "So I've heard." She moved on and sat in her place beside Rupert, who looked over at her. Again Clarisse was surprised that it hurt to have seen love in Joseph's eyes for his wife, and only, well, fondness at best, in Rupert's eyes when he looked at her.

"I've heard Nan often," Rupert was saying to Sebastian Motaz. "Quite remarkable! And she is so unassuming. Full of the devil, of course, and ready for a joke at any moment, but her passion is her music."

Idly wondering when her husband could have heard Nan, let alone met her and come to know her as well as it seemed he did, Clarisse leaned forward and spoke briefly with Sebastian's wife, Sheila. Then the music started, and they all settled back in their seats. Nan, or Anna as she was billed, came out to the accompaniment of loud applause, and began to sing. Her voice truly was spectacular, and she had an easy, fun-loving manner about her that soon had everyone in the theatre charmed by her.

At intermission, Rupert was on his feet in an instant. "I'm going to go backstage to speak with Nan," he announced.

Clarisse began to rise, but he waved her back down. "I'll go alone ... I'll just take Franz. Joe and Albert can remain on duty here with you and the Motaz'. I'll be back before intermission is over, naturally."

"Wouldn't it be better to take Joseph?" Clarisse asked, perplexed, but Rupert shook his head decisively.

"No, he can see her later tonight! It's MY turn, now." With that puzzling comment, he was gone, with Franz as his faithful shadow.

While she was chatting with Sheila and Sebastian, Clarisse was surreptitiously studying Joseph. His face was impassive as he stood by the door, and only the movement of his eyes showed any sign of life. She wondered what he thought of Rupert going to see HIS wife. Chuckling inwardly at the ludicrous thought that perhaps Rupert and Nan were, well, having an affair, Clarisse turned her full attention back to Sebastian and Sheila.

Suddenly there was a flurry at the door and a curiously-shaken Franz slipped in. He held a quick, whispered conference with Joseph and Albert, then came a bitten-off exclamation from Joseph who disappeared out the door. Sebastian stopped talking and turned to Franz, as did Sheila and Clarisse. Franz stumbled up to Clarisse and sank to his knee before her.

"Your Majesty ..." he began, tears forming in his eyes and spilling down his white cheeks. His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat before being able to continue.

The colour drained from her face, and Clarisse felt as though her heart had stopped. Something terrible had happened! Oh, God ... Philippe had had a relapse! "Is it ... is it Philippe?" she asked in an unsteady voice.

Her relief when Franz shook his head sadly was brief. When Franz delivered the message that King Rupert was dead, Clarisse shook her head in denial, not even hearing Sebastian and Sheila exclaim in horror. "No! No, he CAN'T be! He just went to talk to ..."

"It appears that he had a ... heart attack. The police have been called. I'm ... I'm sorry, your Majesty. King Rupert, may he rest in peace, is ... dead."

Clarisse shook, then a scream bubbled up in her throat and she choked it back fiercely. "NO!" she cried again. The Opera House faded from her consciousness. She only had one thought. RUPERT! Not Rupert! It was not possible! She could not have been widowed like this! Oh, RUPERT! Feeling blackness coming in to envelope her, Clarisse didn't bother questioning any more. She welcomed the oblivion.

O o O o O o

The next few days passed by in a blur for Clarisse. Her moods swung from grief to rage to disbelief, then back again. Her son Pierre was by her side constantly, and she clung to him. Philippe, still gravely injured, lay in a hospital far away and unable to even communicate. Clarisse wondered what she had ever done to have deserved such tragedies devastating her life. The third day, when her emotions seemed to have subsided to a dull acceptance, Pierre said quietly that the Chief of Police, the Coroner and the Prime Minister all had been asking to speak with her ... and with Joseph. Together.

"Joseph?" Clarisse put a hand to her throbbing temple, and frowned slightly in bewilderment. "Why Joseph?"

After a moment's hesitation, Pierre said, "Joseph's wife died the same night as Father. She apparently was found at the bottom of a flight of stairs in the Opera House. All details of her death and Father's have been suppressed pending an investigation. So far, both deaths have been treated as completely separate events by the media ... but there are some possible connections which the Coroner and police which to discuss with you and Joseph."

Clarisse closed her eyes. Would this never end? Her hand reached out blindly to Pierre. "You'll stay with me?"

"If you wish, of course I will. But are you sure? Mother, I must warn you ... I have heard some whispers, and, well ... I, too, believe the deaths are linked. You may not want me to know all the ..."

Her eyes flew open and she stared at him, disbelieving. "You mean ... MURDER?"

"No!" Pierre was vehement. "No, not murder. But possibly ..." his voice sank and he flushed a little. This WAS his mother he was telling, and it was about his late father, and it was confoundedly hard! "... adultery," he finished in a low voice.

Clarisse froze as the word echoed in her head. Adultery? Rupert ... and Nan? She instinctively rejected the thought, but instantly many other tiny but niggling perceptions clamoured for her attention. Rupert had spoken of Nan as if he had known her well. He had wanted to see her alone that night. He had admitted that he had never truly loved Clarisse ... and he had admitted to having been in love with someone else before their arranged marriage had taken place. Nan? Had Rupert loved Nan all these years? Surely not!

"Mother? Shall I tell Sebastian that you will see them?" Pierre's voice seemed to come from a long, long way off.

Not allowing herself to droop nor to give in to her despair, Clarisse straightened up and tried to clear her head. "I will see Sebastian alone first, because SOMEONE must continue to rule Genovia until Philippe is fully recovered and able to ascend the throne. Unless you are going to change your mind, it would appear that I am to be that someone. Your father's funeral must be planned. Only AFTER the funeral will I meet with the others. That length of time should put to rest the rumours. Then perhaps we will be able to sift the truth out from beneath all the conjectures. Whatever the police or the coroner ... need ... to complete their investigation, will, of course be provided ... but I will not see them at this time."

Pierre nodded slowly. "I think you are right, Mother ... for what it is worth. Long live Queen Clarisse!"

Clarisse smiled sadly, acknowledging his approval, and fervently wishing her younger son could have taken his rightful place as King of Genovia. Until the accident, he had been READY to be king ... and now he was fighting for his own life. She sighed. Pierre put his arms around her gently. "I know, Mother. I know. Philippe SHOULD be King. We must trust in God that what SHOULD be, WILL be."

Clarisse leaned into his strength for a moment, then stiffened her resolve. "Thank you, Pierre. Please, stay with me when Sebastian comes. We must plan the ... the funeral. Oh, the Archbishop ..."

"I will have him informed that we will see him as soon as he is available today."

"Thank you."

Accordingly, Queen Clarisse, Prince Pierre and Prime Minister Motaz met and subsequently arranged for Queen Clarisse to take her place as the Head of State in Genovia at a special meeting of Parliament in two weeks' time. The Archbishop arrived and the foursome planned the dates for the Lying-in-State. The morning after his death, King Rupert's body had been taken to the chapel at the winter castle in the mountains, as that is where he had been born. The day after tomorrow, the coffin would be brought by train to the station in Pyrus, then would be carried in a ceremonial procession to the Cathedral Hall where the late king would lie in state for the next four days, allowing all those who desired to do so to line up and file past the coffin to pay their respects. The funeral service would follow in the Genovian Cathedral in exactly one week's time. King Rupert would be buried in the Renaldi family vault in King Chevalier's Memorial Chapel in Pyrus.

By the time the arrangements had been concluded, Clarisse was trembling. She had no idea whether or not she would be able to be all that a Genovian queen SHOULD be. What if she failed? What if ...? Pierre, sensing her mood, excused the two of them from the meeting and took her back to her rooms where he handed her over to her ladies' maids to cosset for the rest of the day.

It wasn't until the following day that Clarisse remembered Pierre telling her that Joseph's wife had died the same night as Rupert. Not having left her suite much at all, Clarisse hadn't missed seeing Joseph in the palace, nor had she listened to any news on radio or television, knowing she couldn't bear to hear anything about Rupert at the time. Now, however, she was feeling a little more in control of her emotions; for the time being, anyway. Calling Olivia to her, she rather awkwardly asked the other woman about Anna.

"Oh, your Majesty!" Olivia shook her head in distress. "That was such an awful accident! And to think it happened just when ... well, naturally, because of the circumstances in Genovia, she was buried quietly this morning in a private service. I've heard that her agent has already set up a scholarship in her name, and Joseph is planning to honour her memory some point in the future, after King ... after the state fun ... after, well, after." Olivia flushed miserably, hating to say anything about Clarisse's loss in case the queen broke down again.

Clarisse was somewhat grateful for Olivia's consideration, but felt she was stronger than the other woman gave her credit for. Of course, Olivia thought she was prostrate from grief because of losing the love of her life. Already Clarisse was feeling stirrings of anger towards Rupert for even the MENTION of possible adultery, so she said almost coldly, "By circumstances, you mean King Rupert's death and funeral?"

"Yes, your Majesty," whispered Olivia.

"But Anna was famous! She deserves more than ..."

"Not more than King Rupert, may he rest in peace!" Olivia said, firmly. "Nothing should detract from his blessed memory in the next week! You'll see, your Majesty, he won't be forgotten any time soon."

Clarisse lowered her head. No, he wouldn't be forgotten. She had already heard the expression "may he rest in peace" enough times, but she had the feeling she would hear it a lot more in the days ahead. For Rupert's father, King Steffan, the saying had lasted for almost four years! If Rupert HAD been having an affair with Nan, by God, Clarisse sincerely hoped he would NEVER rest in peace! Then, shocked by her savage thoughts, she resolved to calm herself, and asked Olivia to please bring her some tea and summon Prince Pierre.

O o O o O o to be continued