Disclaimer: We don't own any of these characters, since Princess Diaries 1 and its characters are the property of Disney, Buena Vista, and Meg Cabot, and unfortunately neither of us make any money from this work of fiction!
Clarisse sat at her desk, put on her glasses and looked for a moment at the blank paper in front of her, wondering what to write. Then inspiration hit, and the words began to flow from her pen ...
Genovian Consulate, San Francisco, U.S.A.
My dear Rupert,
I feel the need to speak with you tonight – you, my dearest friend and confidante for so many years. After what happened this afternoon, well, I must sort out my thoughts with regard to the situation in which I now find myself. I have always been able to do that best in writing, as you know, being the one to give me my first diary when I was six and we were formally betrothed. My diary, however, is still in Genovia, as I had not planned to be here in America for this long.
You are very close to my mind tonight, Rupert, and I find that by writing to you, I am able to imagine your responses and better gauge my next course of action. Having written that, I'm still not quite sure where to start ... although I suppose I should start at the beginning, since that IS a very good place to start! Before I do, however, I must insert that I KNOW that you would love our grand-daughter, Amelia. We should never have agreed to Philippe's insistence that she be left in the dark with regards to her heritage, as I firmly believe that we missed out on so much of her life thus far. Not to mention, of course, that I might not have met quite as much resistance as I have now that she is almost sixteen. But oh, Rupert, as rough and awkward and shy as Amelia appears right now, I am almost positive that there is in her the ability to rule Genovia as you would have wished. To get her to that point will, of course, involve a great deal of work, not the least of which is convincing her that she IS capable of being a princess and some day a queen of Genovia! Rupert, I could never manage if it were not for Joseph ... and therein lies my dilemma which was brought to its head this very afternoon right after Amelia's dance lesson. But I am getting ahead of myself.
Believe it or not, dear Rupert, the beginning of my present quandary was when you first fell sick and I began to take on more of a role as a ruler in Genovia. As you know, Joseph was the Head of Security for the Royal Family, but his major focus was, of course, on keeping YOU from danger. Yes, he co-ordinated all the security guards and systems, but when we were in the public eye, Joseph watched out for your safety, Hans looked out for me, and the boys each had their own personal bodyguard.
When I was forced to take over some of your duties as ruler of Genovia, Joseph naturally found that he could no longer entrust the entire safety of the crown to Hans, so it was Joseph who accompanied me to the state functions I was obliged to attend. Rupert, despite any rumours you may have heard to the contrary, and I heard a couple myself, I SWEAR to you that all through that period, I thought of him ONLY as the Head of Security, and I am convinced that he regarded me simply as his sovereign queen. You were feeling too ill much of the time to discuss personal issues, but you know yourself just how much time and effort the three of us put into finding solutions to the succession problem. You know, too, how propinquity can help friendships develop and deepen ... and how people can read the same situation and come up with amazingly different scenarios.
You were my best friend, Rupert, for so many years, and I love you for that and still miss you desperately at times such as now. Your clear-headed thinking, your ability to see through the fog and confusion to what really matters, your acceptance of other's ideas and gifts, your delight in our friendship helped me so much in those early days of trying to become what a true Queen of Genovia must be. I may never have been in love with you, just as I know you never were in love with me, but we were so very fond of one another, weren't we? I will always treasure those times in your suite while you, Joseph and myself pondered the future of our beloved country.
With your worsening health, Pierre's abdication and Philippe's obligation to the Genovian Air Force not yet fulfilled, we had to come up with answers for ways to guide Genovia through the turmoil and keep her free from the grasp of the von Trokens who hovered then, as now, like veritable vultures! Oh Rupert, I'm sorry, but I am so afraid for our people and our country should Baron von Troken ever come in to power! I'm forced to wonder inwardly if having me the reigning monarch for a full year after your death was indeed for the best. If Philippe had become King upon your death as expected by the vast majority, would the von Trokens have been discouraged? Perhaps they were encouraged by MY rule, knowing how inadequate I truly am for the role. After all, I only married into royalty. Philippe was born into it. The Renaldi blood flowed in his veins as it never did in mine. No wonder the von Trokens and their ilk could spread gossip and dissent throughout the land!
Clarisse bit her lip and put her pen down to try to still her hand which was beginning to shake a little. The von Trokens had arrived in America that very afternoon, and were presently housed in the Consulate. Joseph had assured her that their power was very limited here ... but Clarisse herself had assigned Joseph to Amelia ... as chauffeur and babysitter, to use his words! Joseph ... Clarisse's hands trembled again and she closed her eyes, trying to regain her self-control. Had the events in the ballroom this past afternoon been seen, especially by such as the von Trokens ... Clarisse squeezed her hands together. Their actions this afternoon, hers and Joseph's, could well spell disaster for Genovia were they to be made public.
Then a knock came at her door. Clarisse took off her glasses, turned over the letter she was writing, and called, "Come in."
Charlotte entered, with a tray. "Tea, your Majesty?"
"Oh, thank you, Charlotte." Clarisse waited until Charlotte had put the tray on the side of the desk, poured her tea and passed the cup to her. "Charlotte, may I ask you something?"
"Yes, Ma'am?"
"This afternoon ..." Clarisse hesitated, trying to find the words she wanted, not noticing that Charlotte tensed up a little, looking worried at the mention of the afternoon. "I was wondering, do you happen to know where the von Trokens went after their arrival here?"
Charlotte smiled, relaxing. "Yes, Ma'am. The Baroness asked to be given a tour of the city, and the Baron commandeered Princess Amelia's limousine since she had no need of it during her dance lesson. They left immediately and haven't returned. They had asked that they be taken to a high-class restaurant for their evening meal and said they would speak with you tomorrow about the state dinner."
"Thank you." Clarisse couldn't believe the relief that swept through her. Perhaps her dance with Joseph and ... and what had followed had been overlooked by everyone. She certainly HOPED so!
Charlotte left the room and Clarisse sipped her tea, then put on her glasses, turned the letter back over, and resumed her writing.
To this day, Rupert, I agree with your assessment that Philippe was not ready to be King immediately following your death. His grief almost overwhelmed him, and I am sure that it was only the fact that he had to continue with the Air Force that saved his sanity in those first few months. Certainly I was of no help to him, struggling with my own intense grief and with the problems of any country whose leader is suddenly gone. In those dark days following your death, Joseph was a tower of strength. He spent a great deal of time with Philippe ... and more with me.
I don't know that I could ever have continued with our plan had Joseph not been by my side, encouraging me, advising me, keeping me as safe as you had always done. He didn't replace you in my mind, no one could do that, but at a time when I was in desperate need of a friend, he was there. With his help, I stood firm against Parliament when they tried to overturn our joint decision about Philippe fulfilling his obligation to the military before being crowned King.
As you know, over the eleven months after your death, Philippe gradually grew into the grave, intelligent man he had shown himself to be capable of becoming upon his return from America sixteen years ago. Joseph and I had such high hopes of him ... hopes that you had shared with us. Parliament began planning the coronation. All of Genovia was looking forward to the time when Philippe would be crowned King, would take his rightful place on the throne, and the official time of mourning a monarch's passing would be ended. Then one day Joseph and I discovered, much to our surprise, that the emotion felt between us was NOT simply friendship.
Clarisse dropped her pen again, thinking back to that day in her office at the Genovian palace when she and Joseph had, well, there was really no other way to put it ... she and Joseph had lost their heads. Neither had expected the surge of desire that had swept between them, and neither had had the strength to resist it. They had been growing closer and closer together all those months since Rupert's death, and suddenly their deep friendship had sparked a heated passion neither had suspected nor, frankly, desired. They had found themselves in each other's arms ...
Three months ago
One of Joseph's hands daringly came up so that he could touch her cheek with light fingertips. Clarisse felt his touch all the way to her toes as she looked into his eyes.
"I should ..." Clarisse began, but Joseph stopped her spate of words by pressing his lips to hers.
Of course she had been kissed before, but her experience with Rupert's occasional salutes had not prepared her at all for Joseph's kiss. It was not that it was hard or demanding, either. Rather, his lips rested as lightly against hers as his fingertips had against her cheek just moments before. But his lips were parted, warm and moist, and they moved over hers caressingly, feeling them, softening them, even licking them. When his hands came to her waist to bring her fully against his body, she allowed herself to be embraced and rested her body against his hard, muscled, warm one.
It felt marvellous. He was doing wonderful things to her body, as well, even though his hands were still at her waist and his lips were still light on hers. As the kiss deepened, her initial resistance faded. Her arms slid around his waist, and she was aware of nothing but the touch of his lips on hers and incredible warmth cascading over her. Then he drew back slightly, and she shakily drew in a deep breath as she opened her eyes and stared up at him, bemused.
"Oh, my!" she whispered at last, never taking her eyes off him.
He smiled faintly, and his hands on her waist tightened almost imperceptibly, a wordless question. In answer, Clarisse fully intended to step away from him. Why, then, did she lean INTO him, closing her eyes in anticipation of the kiss she knew was coming? Why did her hands travel restlessly over his back before making their way up so that her fingers could clutch the nape of his neck? Why did she rub her hips so suggestively against him, feeling the heat of his arousal which sparked a throbbing and tingling in her own body such as she had never felt before? Joseph kissed her mouth, her chin, then he tasted her slender throat, the pulse that beat in the hollow and the place where her shoulder met her neck.
"Oh..." she breathed, and neither could tell whether that was a protest or an entreaty. However, she didn't push him away, and he wouldn't stop tasting her of his own volition!
"I know I shouldn't, but you are so tempting, my dear, that I couldn't resist any longer." He sounded defensive to her ears.
"I see. After these last weeks, I was beginning to think you didn't ... want me," she admitted, gasping slightly as his tongue flicked the sensitive skin behind her ear.
"WHAT?" Then his head bent so fast that she didn't see it coming. His mouth captured hers once more in an open-mouthed kiss of raw need that drew an instant response of surprise and desire. She tightened her arms around him and arched into him, feeling such a sharp stab of ecstatic longing that she moaned into his mouth.
"Joseph ... this is dangerous ..." Clarisse finally managed to catch her breath after long moments of passionate kisses, and she was trembling so hard she didn't think she could stand on her own.
"I know. Oh, how I know!" His smile was rueful and the back of his fingers brushed her cheek gently again. "My darling, we BOTH know that this cannot be. I cannot marry you. You are the queen. I am merely your Head of Security." She moved her head slightly against his fingers, a yearning expression on her face. "Oh, Clarisse ..." he sighed. Her name seemed as natural on his tongue as if they had been intimate for many years.
He wanted to strip them both naked and bury himself inside her, but he couldn't. He couldn't scare her away, and he couldn't risk getting to the point where he mindlessly took her too far. He couldn't take her at all. She was his queen ... but she was also the woman he had just discovered he loved more than life itself. She smelled of lilac and passion, a heady scent that almost had him breaking his unspoken promises and asking for more. Somehow he suspected that, at this very moment, she was willing to give more. She was incredibly sweet and could be his with a little skill and a little care, yet he knew equally well that she was an innocent despite having been married for over twenty years. Her kisses, even though they lacked hesitation or coyness, told him that.
With her silent permission, his hands slid up to cup her breasts. He could not stop himself from groaning faintly as he smoothed his fingers over her curves. She could be his right now, he knew, despite the almost imperceptible stiffening he had felt when his hands had moved. He felt her indecision, and knew what the decision must and would be. His hands returned to her waist and he kissed her once more, long and lingeringly. Her lips were soft and warm and willing to part for him. He nibbled at them, licked them, stroked them with his tongue, keeping firm control of his passion. Then at last he gave one last tender kiss and rested his forehead on hers, sighing as he held her close in his arms.
"Clarisse, you know I want to possess you, but ... but we can't do this." His husky whisper penetrated her happy daze. She knew, as well as he did, that they should never have gone this far. "Why did you allow me to take this liberty, Clarisse? WHY?"
She caught his face in her hands before he could draw away. "Because I love you," she admitted. "Because I want to feel your love in ways I've never felt love before. Because I know you love me ..." and her lips pressed on his.
Then Clarisse, fighting back the bittersweet memories of their forbidden and never-repeated tryst, took up her pen once more.
Rupert, I knew that day that I loved Joseph, and I know I could no more have stopped him from loving me than I could have stopped Philippe from flying that one last mission. I know I should have felt terrible guilt ... but after all, you had been dead for almost a year, and I was almost finished my term as the ruling queen. Philippe was ready to be King. Joseph and I could make plans for our future, and for the next week, we did so. Once I was no longer on the throne of Genovia, there was nothing to stop us being together. We planned to travel, to leave Genovia for a while and allow Philippe to make his own place, to become the King he was born to become.
Our newfound happiness was shattered only days later when we were notified of Philippe's death. I felt an agony and a regret that reached to the core of my soul when I realized that I had to give up Joseph in order to fulfil my duties to my country and my people. I lost two loved ones the day Philippe crashed his plane, and I lost my personal life at the same time. But I knew my duty. Genovia had to come first. I could not even think of pursuing a relationship with Joseph whilst ruling. It broke my heart to tell Joseph that it was over, that nothing could come of our love ... that we could never be more than friends, and secret friends at that. I knew a scandal would destroy Genovia. He told me that he would wait for me, but I thought I had convinced him to forget me in that way.
With the von Trokens stirring up strife in Genovia, I could no longer wait until Amelia's eighteenth birthday, as previously agreed. And so I came here, to America, to find her and to see if she would be the one to continue the Renaldi rule in Genovia. I so wanted her to be the one and I still do. She would be good for Genovia, she WOULD. But today ... today, after Amelia's dance lesson ... Oh, Rupert ... I thought I was over him. I truly thought I had buried my passion beneath a queenly veneer! And yet ... and yet ... today, we danced for the first time since Philippe's death. Our bodies still are in tune. There is no denying that. I thought I had mastered myself and fallen out of love with him. Rupert, when Joseph kissed me again this afternoon as the music of the dance died away ... well, I still find it hard to believe that a kiss, when we were standing fully clothed in a room wherein anyone could walk and see us, could seem every bit as erotic as a kiss shared in complete privacy with his body in intimate embrace with my own. I shudder to think what might have happened had we been seen by anyone here!
At the memory of this afternoon's kiss, an aching weakness spiralled downward from Clarisse's throat to her knees and the pen dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers. What had they done? What Pandora's box had they opened with that one kiss? Now it would be that much harder to forget him ... to do her duty to Genovia rather than to follow her heart. Her only solace was that they had not been seen. Surely she could suppress her emotions once more! She had to. It was the only way.
Silent tears slid down her cheeks, then Clarisse put her head down and wept bitterly. She, who had already lost so much, was required to deny herself even the comfort of Joseph's passionate love. She WOULD do her duty, but she needed this time to give way to her grief before regaining her self-control.
At last Clarisse straightened up, wiped her eyes and, biting her trembling lips, she penned the final lines in this letter and signed it with a flourish.
Rupert, dear, dear Rupert ... I know that you would forgive my weakness. I can almost hear your whisper that I must go after my happiness and cling to it once I have found it. I promise you that when our grand-daughter is crowned queen of Genovia after her twenty-first birthday, if that is her decision, I will gladly relinquish my duty to and love of my country for my duty to myself and my love for a man.
From your dear friend and wife,
Clarisse
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