"Yes, I'm sure we'll manage, Sheila." Clarisse prattled on at the party about the pear market to the Prime Minister's wife. She internally rolled her eyes. She hated these social events sometimes. Everyone wanted to speak to her. Usually she had only one thing on her mind, dancing with her wonderful husband, and love of her life. She turned absentmindedly away from Sheila, tuning her out. She looked for Joseph among the crowd.
He leaned against the wall. Now that he was a part of the royal family, he was ambushed by the press and guests nearly as much as the queen. Clarisse grinned. She could tell he was hiding. He was taking his usual place as observer of the crowd, rather than participant.
She began to make her way to her husband. Then she saw a Spanish dignitary walking toward him. She stepped back, watching the woman who approached her husband like a snake ready to strike. Clarisse cocked her head, looking at the woman as she kissed Joseph straight on the lips.
"Shut up." She said under her breath, thinking it a much kinder thing to say than what she was actually thinking. She expected him to push her away, to call security, to do SOMETHING.
He kissed her back.
Clarisse wanted to be sad, but all she could feel was intense anger – at her husband even more than the woman from Spain.
And then she woke up.
Tears were stinging at her eyes. Her husband was missing from her side. She scoffed and threw back the covers angrily.
Stomping into the other room, she found him, drinking his morning coffee and staring at the paper.
"Ah, good morning, my queen." Joseph smiled, putting down the paper.
He expected to greet her with a kiss as he normally did. He expected her to sit down on his lap and wrap her arms around him and beg him to come back to bed as she did on most Sunday mornings.
She just stared at him, and nodded. "Joseph."
In a moment she was clanking around the breakfast dishes that had been brought up.
Uncharacteristically, she sat far away from Joseph, seething. He tried to ignore her behavior, but soon found that he wanted his cheerful wife back in his arms.
"My love" he asked finally, "did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"
"There's no such thing." She said matter-of-factly.
"Then what, pray tell, is the matter, Clarisse?"
"You should know." She spat, and then softened slightly. "No, never mind, nothing is wrong"
"Tell me, Clarisse."
"Well, it's stupid." She said softly. "I had a dream that were at one of those dreadful parties."
"Ah," Joseph began, but she raised her hand to indicate that more of the story was coming.
"So this woman comes up to you. And you are across the room, and she kisses you right on the mouth."
"Clarisse..."
"You did not even attempt to stop her."
"That's not fair, love. It wasn't me in that dream." He looked hurt, leaning toward her.
"Well I'm angry at you, anyway."
"Clarisse…"
"I realize how ridiculous that sounds, yes. Just let me be. I can't get that picture out of my mind."
"I'm sorry, my love. You know that would never happen in real life."
"Hm. Well, maybe not with you. How can I possibly be sure? Rupert sure would not have stopped her."
"Well, I've waited to love you for 35 years, so there's a start."
"And in those 35 years?"
"I'm not a monk, Clarisse." He dropped his eyes. "Clarisse Elizabeth Renaldi, I love you more than anyone in the world. And if I have to, I will do anything in my power to convince you – but I would like to finish my breakfast?" He raised his eyebrows.
Clarisse smiled at him. "I don't know if I believe you" she said softly.
"No?" He asked, smiling back at his wife.
She was so lovely in the light of the morning. These spring Sunday mornings were his favorite. They were alone for hours, able to soak in the company of each other. They always took their time with breakfast, and with each other, usually tumbling into bed for a nap or otherwise.
"Nope." She shook her head and crossed her arms. He stood and walked to her chair, leaning close to her.
"Well, will this convince you?" He crushed his lips to her, and she yelped as he ran his fingers over her ribs.
"Don't…Joseph!" She shrieked and dissolved into giggles. "You can't tickle me and expect to win this!" He cupped both her cheeks in his palms and smiled as he looked into her eyes.
"There is no Spanish woman. There is no other woman for me. You are the love of my life. It was a terrible nightmare. I will never leave you."
"Okay…" she whispered, kissing him on the lips. "I'm sorry. I love you."
"It's all right." He sat in the chair next to hers, grabbing her hand. "Now come here. And we can start this morning over."
"Good morning, my handsome king." She said, sitting on his lap and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
"Would you like some tea, Clarisse?"
"I'd love some."
A/N
Inspired by a hidden track by Edie Carey, called "My Dream Last Night"
