I've rated this story a 'T'. But be warned... somehow it's another ANGST-Y story with only some kissage. *grumble* Guess that's what happens when I try to convert a story from another written years ago for another fandom...

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are not mine, but belong to Disney, very loosely taken from Meg Cabot's books The Princess Diaries.

Interrupted in her daily report reading by a derisive and decidedly unladylike snort from her grand-daughter, Clarisse looked up with a faint frown. "What is it now, Amelia?" she asked.

"Some crap about Hallowe'en in this magazine. Just listen to this, Grandma! 'According to Celtic tradition, on Hallowe'en night you can use a mirror to see the face of your soul mate. First, you must light a single candle. Just before midnight, all others must leave the room and you must darken the room except for your candle. Facing the mirror and holding the candle in front of you with both hands, you must close your eyes and count to twelve. When you get to twelve, you can open your eyes. In the mirror, just over your shoulder, you may see the reflection of the face of your soul mate. The image may disappear quickly, but, whatever you do, don't turn around until it's gone or love will vanish from your life forever.'" She snorted again, not seeing Clarisse's wince at this second breach of refined deportment. "As if that could ever happen!"

O o O o O o

"Happy Hallowe'en, Grandma! Just think, next year I'll be in Genovia with you on Hallowe'en! We have a masquerade ball then, can't we? Tonight I'm going out to a masquerade party with Lily and some other friends! Are you doing something for Hallowe'en there?" Mia greeted her grandmother and questioned her all at once when Clarisse picked up the telephone in the library later in the evening on October 31st.

"You know Genovia doesn't celebrate such things, Amelia," Clarisse said, rather primly even for her. She added quickly, "but I hope you have a good time at your party."

"You know what, Grandma? Remember that crazy bit about the mirror that I read to you this past summer? About looking in a mirror on Hallowe'en night with a candle, and seeing your true love or soul mate or whatever look back, and not turning around or you'd never find love again? It was in the newspaper here this morning! I think I'm going to try it tonight, now that Michael's off touring with his band. I had thought that maybe he was my true love, but..."

"Don't burn your house down by dropping the candle in surprise. I find it hard to believe that, Hallowe'en or not, looking in a mirror can reveal your soul mate, whatever that might be," Clarisse said dryly. Then she changed the subject. "Thomas and Guy have things in hand, I trust?"

Mia sighed. "Yes, Grandmother, my bodyguards are doing their job. I wish you'd have let me have Shades... er, Scott... though. He's more fun!"

"A bodyguard is not for 'fun', Mia," Clarisse said, then heard a faint cough and caught Joseph's grin across the room. He had been standing at his post at the door since handing her the telephone and retreating to give her a bit of privacy. Vexed by the sudden heat that rushed over her, Clarisse dropped her eyes, refusing to acknowledge his presence. "Bodyguards have a duty to protect you..." Breaking off the lecture when she sensed that Mia was mentally rolling her eyes, Clarisse exchanged a few more words with her grand-daughter then they said goodbye and she hung up.

Joseph was instantly by her side, taking the telephone from her hands and placing it on a table. With laughter threading through his husky voice, he asked, "A bodyguard is not for fun?"

Refusing to be embarrassed, Clarisse said distantly, "Why do men always turn things back to... well... personal relationships?"

"Haven't you heard the reason, Clarisse? According to popular belief, personal relationships, as you say, are what we all think about it and there comes a time when thinking must result in talking and then in action."

"And where does that get us?" Clarisse said bleakly. "Ever since that June night four years ago, when we could no longer keep the raging tide of our love held inside, now we have twice the grief, twice the strain, twice the despair and twice the pain, all from trying to keep our relationship secret. After all that, how much further are we ahead than we were before? We still have to be secretive!"

"We now have the hope that someday when Mia is crowned Queen of Genovia, our lives and our love will bloom as it did that June night." Joseph said.

Both fell silent, remembering...

C C C C C C C C C

They walked slowly, regally, away from the ballroom where the newly-declared Princess of Genovia was dancing with her friends. When no one could see, Joseph reached out and took her hand firmly in his, then lifted it to his lips. Surprised, Clarisse looked at him, then smiled and left her hand in his grasp. He opened the door to her suite and turned on the light, stepping back slightly to allow her to precede him into the empty rooms.

Clarisse, still holding his hand tightly, drew him in with her and locked the door behind him. A ripple of surprise passed through Joseph's body and he stared at her in surprise, then in delighted anticipation. He drew her closer. She caught her breath as his lips moved closer, pressing light kisses on her cheekbones. She felt heat gather low in her torso. A very small part of her brain pulsed a distant warning; a tiny voice cautioned her to call a halt. She knew where this kind of activity led. She should not allow this to continue, or she would find herself nursing a broken heart. However, it had been so very long since she had indulged her feminine yearnings. Being a queen was so very different. She allowed herself a passing thought, 'What would it hurt to enjoy the prelude to lovemaking?'

"Oh, my dear, shall we do about us, I wonder?" Joseph asked quietly, his breath warm on her ear.

"I don't know," Clarisse whispered. "I want so much for us to be together, but ... oh, I am so torn."

"Shall we part, then - never to hold each other as we would wish, never to touch each other, to kiss each other," then his voice dropped seductively and he continued, "never to make love together?"

Clarisse stared at him mutely.

He went on, "Should I leave Genovia and you? Even worse, shall I stay, knowing that we must constantly be reminded of each other? Knowing that we will forever gaze at each other from across a room? Knowing that our only touch can be my hand on your back as I lead you through a crowd? Knowing that our souls are inextricably intertwined because of our love, yet we are unable to be together openly...?" His face twisted with the pain and strain he was feeling.

One look at her Head of Security, and Clarisse's heart shattered again. Somehow, she sensed he would not touch her unless she forced the issue. He would not take her to his bed, love her thoroughly, and then walk away. Shakespeare wrote, "Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once." That might have been fine for Julius Caesar, Clarisse thought bitterly, however this brave man, Joseph, will be deathly hurt many times. And as for herself...

He spoke huskily, as if he were arguing with himself. "I should leave you and soon. And I should not give in to the desires I feel, for then it would be impossible to leave you - not you as the queen of my country, but you as the queen of my heart. Were I to taste everything you could give me, you, Clarisse, the woman who warms my heart and inflames my soul, I could never leave you. It would be wrong to ask you to give yourself completely, because a true gentleman would not tamper with a woman's heart. Especially if it would shatter his own. And in spite of Mabrey's beliefs to the contrary, I am a true gentleman."

Clarisse could have cried. Then anger flared, born of her high emotions. She wanted to wound him as she had been wounded. "Fine, then! Don't make love with me! Frankly, I didn't find lovemaking all that earthshaking anyway!"

Joseph stared at her, then his eyes darkened, and a grim smile crossed his face. "My dear Clarisse, you would never have been able to say that had you been married to ME!"

"Oh really, Joseph!" Clarisse glared at him. "That is your ego talking!"

"No, Clarisse." His voice was very soft. "It is my love talking."

Instantly it felt as if the wind had been taken out of her sails. "Forgive me, Joseph." Clarisse took a deep breath. "I had a temporary lapse of judgement. You may be assured that it will not happen again. Unless, of course, it's absolutely unavoidable."

Joseph sighed, then said quietly, "I don't wish to continue this way. Not when we have experienced something as wonderful as tonight has been, or could be." He paused, then said formally, "I apologize, your Majesty."

Clarisse hung her head, knowing what it had cost him to say those latter words and acknowledging the truth of the former words. Haltingly, she whispered, "We are in agreement then."

"Shall I go?"

Joseph's words hung in the air, and at last Clarisse acknowledged the truth she had tried to evade. She could not let him go. Never. Not without just once tasting the forbidden pleasure she knew Joseph could give her, not to mention the true love that so far in her life had passed her by. Her hands reached out to him again and he enfolded her in his arms. With shaking fingers, she traced patterns on the material of the tuxedo covering his chest. At last she looked up at him, her blue eyes shimmering.

"Joseph, I love you. I know this love is illogical, and I know it would be termed impossible and even treasonous to the world were it to become common knowledge. But there it is. Women ARE illogical, as has been said many times. And despite my being a queen, I am first and foremost a woman. A woman in love. Please ... this is a special night. A night when we can be alone, or at least we can experience the illusion of being alone. A night I have a few hours of freedom before my ladies' maids return. We MUST make the most of it!"

"I don't want to hurt you, Clarisse." His voice was hoarse.

"Trust me, Joseph, it would hurt me ever so much MORE were you to walk away from me... and Genovia."

"And when the illusion is over? For I fear it cannot last. What then, Clarisse?"

"Our love will remain. It is boundless, everlasting. And someday, perhaps even in five years when Amelia can be crowned queen, we shall be able to be together and acknowledge our love openly for everyone to see."

"Clarisse, my love..." Then his lips were on hers, teasing and tormenting her.

She grabbed his head and held him firmly against her, kissing him deeply and giving him full access to her lush mouth. She strained against him to ease the new tension winding tight in her belly. Then, driven beyond reason, something snapped and they were frantically tearing at each other's clothes. Time disappeared for them both. The only significant thing was pleasing each other. They entered their own as together they made their love come alive. Together ... forever. Neither had any illusions about that anymore.

Clarisse's senses slowly returned. She became aware that she was still entangled with Joseph, arms and legs entwined. She felt no urge to move or leave him. This alarmed her, and she lifted a hand to her heart. What in heaven's name had overcome her? She pondered her uncharacteristic actions.

Joseph made her feel more alive than she ever had felt before. He made her forget that she was a queen and made her feel like a woman. He made her want him with all of her soul, want him so deeply and powerfully that she had given herself to him with abandon and, dear God, with joy. What was she to do now? How could she continue to govern Genovia until Mia was of age? If anyone discovered her treacherous act...

When Joseph stirred beside her, Clarisse felt herself grow cold. She loved him, oh, how she loved him... but this must never happen again until Mia was safely crowned. Moving as carefully as she could, Clarisse managed to extricate herself from her lover's embrace and slip from the bed. Putting on her robe, she waited only a moment more, her eyes hungrily running over his body before turning resolutely away and opening the door to her sitting room.

"Joseph." Her voice was soft but steady. She sensed that he had awakened in an instant. "You must leave this room. It would never do for us to be caught like this. I will await you in the sitting room." She stepped out of her bedroom and softly closed the door.

Pain was washing over her, but Clarisse was resolute about pushing it deep down. Duty called, and she must obey. Generations of Renaldi's depended upon her to bring the next ruler to the throne with no scandal attached. She knew that Joseph was in agreement with her in this as in everything. Dear Joseph... Clarisse caught herself again. She must distance herself from him... yet not push him too far because if he ever left her alone, she was afraid she would not be able to continue.

C C C C C C C C C&J

Clarisse lit a candle now, as if in a dream. She crossed to the mirror with Joseph following her. Peering into the shadowy depths of the glass, she saw his face behind hers. "I feel like Alice, having gone through the Looking Glass. Ever since the Independence Day Ball that year in San Francisco, my world has no longer been the way it used to be." she spoke faintly.

"Nor mine." Joseph agreed softly. He cleared his throat, his hands coming up to rest lightly on her shoulders.

Clarisse stared into his eyes in the mirror, not wanting to risk the other part Mia had mentioned. According to Mia's legend, love would vanish from her life if she turned to face him before his reflection was gone.

He said quietly, "Clarisse, my dear, remember what Mia was talking about... the legends of such mirrors — ones which reflect and reveal your one true love...?"

"It does," she admitted starkly. "for all the good it does me."

Despite his usually impeccable clothes and polished manner, Clarisse had always sensed something primitive, almost savage, lying just beneath Joseph's surface. It was a something which was, at times, dark and somehow unnerving. He was someone one would not wish to cross ... he was one accustomed to demanding - and getting - what he wanted. Truthfully, he was far more suited to being King than Rupert ever had been. Horrified by that disloyal last thought, Clarisse started to turn. Joseph's hands tightened on her shoulders, preventing her from the movement.

"Don't..." he said, an uncharacteristic plea in his voice. "Do not turn, Clarisse. Do not turn from us and from the love we can have one day. It should only be seven or eight more months. Until then, continue to love me in silence, my darling, as I continue to love you."

"In silence and in shadow..." Clarisse whispered. She raised her hand and laid it on the cool surface of the mirror, her eyes fixed on his reflection. "My one true love."

Then she closed her eyes, knowing that Joseph would be gone when she opened them again. Only after sensing the flame would have steadied from the flickering in the draft of the opening and closing of the door did Clarisse set the candle somewhat unsteadily on the table below the mirror before opening her eyes to view the empty room.

Lo and behold, however, instead of Joseph's dear features in the mirror, she saw his person leaning on the wall beside the looking glass. He reached for her with a wicked grin, saying, "My reflection was gone before you could turn, my darling, which will nullify the prophecy. And now I am demanding a few treats..."

The soft, low chuckle of the willing woman in his arms was his only answer before their lips met urgently, and both were treated on this last Hallowe'en night of their enforced life in the shadows.

The End