Disclaimer: 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. The situation is mine, of course, but I make no money from this work of fiction ... just garner the riches of friendship, which is worth more than money anyway!
It had been while dancing with Joseph in San Francisco after Mia's first dance lesson that Clarisse had first become aware of Joseph's true feelings for her. As his body had moved so seductively in such perfect tune with hers, his hands clasping hers so correctly and yet so intimately, his eyes so eloquently expressing the hot desire his lips dare not vocalize, she had found herself reacting in ways she had never imagined possible. Her skin had begun to tingle, tension had fairly crackled in the air ... and when the song had ended and they had swayed to a final halt, both had held the pose for an interminable length of time, eyes searching the others and uncovering all the secrets which had hitherto been locked away.With a muffled gasp, Clarisse had convulsively pulled her hands from Joseph's and had backed away, her eyes never leaving his. What had she been doing? How could she possibly have behaved that way? A flush had swept over her face and at last her gaze had dropped, losing her composure because of emotions she had never expected to experience in her lifetime. They still had been standing there, poised, more than aware of all that had been passing between them yet separated by a dozen feet, when a footman had entered to announce that dinner was ready to be served.
After the Independence Day Ball, when her euphoria had carried her through the evening on a high such as she had never known before, Joseph had taken Clarisse's hand firmly in his, kissed it and tucked it in his arm as he led her to her suite. She had turned to face him, ready to speak, when again her eyes had been caught by his, and her body had betrayed her for the second time in her life as every sense leapt to life and a yearning to feel his lips and hands on her had washed over her being.
She had tried to speak, but had only managed to part her trembling lips as his hands had gently traced her temples as his voice whispered ardent compliments ... "I know how you feel tonight. I can see it in your beautiful eyes." His fingers had slipped down her cheeks to her throat, "and see it in the pulse beating madly here..." Clarisse had sagged against the door of her suite, her legs unable to support her, and had had to fight her desire to lean into him and offer herself to him wholly and completely.
Without warning, the door had opened at her back and she had almost fallen in as her maid quickly began apologizing profusely, saying she had thought she had heard someone attempting to enter. Joseph had bowed inscrutably and withdrawn, leaving Clarisse in a high state of frustration. The following day, she had had no time to be alone with him, and besides, the intervening hours had enabled her to throw up her guard which had crumbled the evening before by the heights and depths of emotions encountered. Then Clarisse had returned to Genovia while Joseph had remained in America with the princess.
Upon his homecoming a few weeks later, bringing the princess for her first visit to her father's country, a wall had been erected, sealing off Joseph's emotions. Sensing it, Clarisse had thrown up her own wall, masking her feelings every bit as successfully. Neither had mentioned those stolen moments in the consulate in America, and Clarisse had almost succeeded in putting them out of her mind. Only occasionally, in the dark of night, as she lay alone and lonely on her bed, did she permit herself to dream of what might have been, had she been someone other than the Queen of Genovia, with a duty and a responsibility to train the next ruler of the country to the best of her ability.
Had anyone spoken to the palace maids, they could have described how the queen had been quite different once her grand-daughter had acknowledged her birthright and agreed to be the crown princess of Genovia. Before Mia's advent, Queen Clarisse was seen to be very regal, very controlled, almost passionless. She was very caring, it was agreed, but not on a personal level. She did not easily let people see the person she was beneath the queenly veneer. The chambermaids had giggled when reporting that even following the rare conjugal visits King Rupert, may he rest in peace, had made to Queen Clarisse's rooms, the queen would be paler than usual, and more dispassionate than ever.
For the most part, the populace loved their queen, but all agreed that before the events of the past year, she had been distanced from them by her demeanor and her station in life. No one had ever seen her eyes sparkle with amusement or seen her fairly quivering with emotion, not even as a young bride. Following the death of King Rupert, may he rest in peace, the queen had stiffened her resolve and carried on until the death of the crown prince. Then she had indeed broken down for a short time, until her son, Prince Pierre, had cajoled her and convinced her that it was her duty to continue ruling the country until a suitable heir had been found. Once more, Queen Clarisse had appeared in public, albeit in heavy mourning. Once more, she had portrayed a cool, collected figure, not disinterested by any means, but rather encased in layers of mourning as protection against being hurt ever again, as if she had resolved to never again feel any deep emotion.
Then had come the news of Prince Philippe's teenaged daughter in America. Queen Clarisse and some of her retinue had spent six weeks in San Francisco, getting to know the girl, and had returned triumphantly. It seemed that Princess Mia was slowly peeling away the layers encasing her grandmother, and a new Queen Clarisse was emerging. There now were moments when the queen's emotions were very close to the surface, when love sparkled in her blue eyes along with tears. The people of Genovia loved the princess in her own right, but they loved her even more because of the effect her very existence was having on Queen Clarisse. Only a very few people realized that perhaps one other person might have effected this change on the beloved queen.
In this way passed the first half year since the events in San Francisco. Mia, her mother and her friends had returned to America in the fall, Parliament in Genovia had resumed, and life supposedly had returned to normal. Charlotte continued to capably organize the queen's time and commitments as she had in America and for a number of years previously in Genovia. Moments alone with Joseph were few and far between for Clarisse, and she told herself it was for the best. Now and then she would catch a glint in his eye which told her he had not forgotten their brief interludes, and her body would respond instantly with a heady trembling she could not control but which she managed to pass off with a faint laugh if anyone commented.
Mia and her mother had flown to Genovia for the Christmas break, and the royal family, along with a few of their trusted staff and the families of the members of parliament, had all moved to the castle in the mountains of Libbet for the holidays. Since this was Clarisse's first Christmas since Philippe's death, and the second since Rupert's passing, she was overjoyed that her grand-daughter would be accompanying her to the festivities. Last year, shortly after Rupert's death, Clarisse had been obliged to participate, along with her two sons, in the local Christmas Eve nativity pageant as one of the three kings – a part traditionally played by the king and princes of Genovia. This year, Pierre was unable to return to Genovia until late Christmas Day, just in time for the annual Boxing Day Ball the following day at the castle. Mia had been approached to be one of the kings, as had Clarisse, and for the first time in living history, a third king had been selected from outside the royal family. Mia had been delighted to hear who was to be the other king, and Clarisse, too, had been privately pleased that Joseph, due to his own family status as well as his position as the Head of Security for the royal family, had been offered the part.
The mayor of the small town had just arrived at the winter castle, having requested an audience with Clarisse, Mia and Joseph that Christmas Eve morning. As Charlotte ushered him into the room where the three were waiting, he began bowing and stuttering his welcomes and thanks for their agreement to participate in the pageant. "The Renaldis have been taking part in our pageant for over two hundred years," he said breathlessly. "I am SO glad, your highness," and he turned specifically to Mia, "that you have agreed to be our princess and have come to spend this holiday season here. Naturally I had wondered whether or not we would be able to have three kings who were actually members of the royal family, knowing that Prince Pierre is unable to attend this year."
"Yes, my son will not be joining us until tomorrow," Clarisse nodded.
"I'm still trying to understand this pageant thing," Mia confessed. "You act the Christmas story out every year?"
"Yes, and it's a WONDERFUL tradition, if I may say so, your highness. Surely you agree, your Majesty, as you've been here for close to forty of them." the mayor beamed at Clarisse.
"It was only last year that I was asked to participate," Clarisse smiled. "It certainly gives one a different perspective being IN the pageant as opposed to watching it. But you'll see for yourself this afternoon, Mia."
"Yes, we take our time with the pageant, starting late in the afternoon and stretching all our festivities into the evening."
"I can't wait." Mia grinned.
"I've brought the costumes, your Majesty. I understand the crowns are here at the castle."
"That's right," Clarisse nodded, looking at Joseph.
"Yes," he said promptly. "They are in the vault. I believe Charlotte will be bringing them up when the time comes."
Mia looked impressed. "REAL crowns?"
"Indeed yes," the mayor said, proudly. "Fashioned by our own silversmiths over two hundred years ago, especially for this event. Of course, the royal family has always been encouraged to used them for the entire Christmas season, not just for the pageant. In particular, of course, at the Boxing Day Ball. Meanwhile, here are the costumes." He beckoned to a young couple who had been hovering near the partially-closed door, and they came in, pushing and pulling a cloth-covered clothes rack. "Francois and Michelle have fashioned the robes this year, both designing and sewing them. The committee feels they have done a wonderful job, and we all hope you will agree."
Mia's audible gasp of delight was the only sound as the couple unveiled the rich-looking velvet robes. One was an emerald green, one a bright red, one a purple so dark it almost appeared black. All were liberally decorated with gold, jewels and fur trimmings.
"If you please, your Majesty, your highness, my lord," Michelle began, bowing first, then carefully lifting the green robe first. "We thought the young princess would look best in this one, as her colouring will be set off by the brilliant green shade."
Mia submitted to having the robe draped on her figure, and all agreed she looked stunning in it. Then the red one was fitted on Clarisse, with the comment that the designers had been very relieved to see she had foregone her funereal black in America. Clarisse daren't risk glancing at Joseph when that remark was made. The dark robe was placed around him. All three were shown where the ties and fasteners had been cleverly hidden so that each robe looked as authentic as it could, as well as how one of the panels could be pulled up as cape and hood in case of a cold wind. Mia smoothed her hand over the soft material, and smiled. "They are so beautiful. Thank you. Even if it's really cold and windy out, we should be warm enough in these."
"That IS the idea, your highness," smiled Francois.
Then Mia looked over at Joseph and grinned. "You look cool, Lord Joe! I can't wait to see a crown on your head. Real king-like, I'm sure. You look good enough to EAT!"
Joseph inclined his head gravely. "I thank you, princess. It is indeed an honour to have been asked to be a king tonight."
Clarisse looked away, unable to say anything. For some reason, seeing Joseph as a king was really affecting her. She was sure it was simply because she was a little more emotional this year than usual, as it was the first Christmas since Philippe's death. The sight of Joseph, however, had driven all thoughts of Philippe AND Rupert out of her head. She hoped she would have better control of herself that evening when they were all wearing their crowns, because Mia was right – Joseph DID look good enough to eat!
Later that afternoon, following a light repast to hold them until the village banquet that evening following the pageant, Clarisse, Mia and Joseph were once again dressed in their 'state robes'. Helen was fixing the fur trim on Joseph's robe when Charlotte entered and directed the footmen with her to place their burdens on the table. She unwrapped the crowns one at a time. Mia gaped at the beauty revealed. The crowns were all gold filigreed circlets about two inches high, engraved with what appeared to be mistletoe and holly. The white berries of the mistletoe were pearls inset, the red holly berries were rubies, and tiny emeralds were sprinkled across the leaves which gave the entire crown a shimmery cast to it.
Charlotte put on Clarisse's crown first, then Mia's, then Joseph's. Helen nodded approvingly. "You all look fantastic. I wish I could do a painting of this."
Clarisse smiled. "Rupert and the boys always loved this time of year, and especially loved these crowns."
Grinning, Mia said, "Hey, Grandma, did you know that Charlotte put your crown on so that the mistletoe is exactly front and centre? That means you could be kissed a whole lot tonight!" She leaned forward and kissed her grandmother's cheek. "And I'm gonna be first. Merry Christmas, Grandma, and I love you. Thank you for everything."
Helen stepped up. "Let me be next." Her lips touched Clarisse's cheek lightly, and as she moved back, she said, "Thank you again, so much, your Majesty, for bringing us over so that we can see firsthand the Christmas traditions of Genovia and of the royal family."
Blinking back tears that had unexpectedly formed, Clarisse said softly, "I am so blessed to have gotten to know you both. If only ..." her voice trailed off. The only reason she had come to know them now was because of Philippe's death and the urgent need for an heir to the throne.
"Don't I get any kisses?" Joseph spoke up, plaintively.
"Your mistletoe is over your ear, Joe," Mia informed him, laughing. "Too bad! Doesn't count there."
"The queen should be first, anyway," Charlotte said primly, and added her light kiss to Clarisse's cheek.
"Far be it for me to buck the trend here ..." and Joseph stepped up to Clarisse as well, the queen presenting her cheek as usual.
"Grandma!" Mia suddenly gasped, and, startled, Clarisse turned her head ... meeting Joseph's mouth with her own.
For a brief moment, their lips lingered, then both jumped back and looked at Mia. "What is it?" Clarisse managed to say, forcing herself to act natural.
Mia just grinned smugly at her. "Nothing. It's just that, really, kisses from the opposite sex are SUPPOSED to be on the lips, not the cheek!"
Clarisse, with difficulty, managed to control the wave of colour that threatened to overwhelm her, and pretended nothing had happened as she avoided Joseph's eyes. She turned to Charlotte who leaped into action and passed out the 'gifts' they were to carry, giving Mia a small chest filled with gold coins, Clarisse a fancy corked bottle of frankincense oil and Joseph a small, urn-shaped jar of myrhh ointment. Then, along with the servants from the castle, the five walked the short distance to the village square where crowds were milling around in the dusk of the early winter evening.
Joseph stopped by the corner of a building on the edge of the square, and put his hand on the arms of both Clarisse and Mia to halt them as well. "We were asked to remain here until the time for us to appear ... once the star shows up in the sky and after the shepherds have arrived."
Mia was a little confused. "The star?" She looked up at the threatening clouds. "We aren't going to see a star through all the clouds, Joe! It's getting darker by the minute!"
"You can see everything from here. Trust me," Joseph murmured.
Then, amid the turmoil and babble, a voice could be heard, getting louder and louder. As the sonorous tones rolled out of the speakers, Mia recognized the telling of the Christmas story. "And Joseph went to be taxed with Mary, his espoused wife, to Bethlehem, the city of David, for he was of the house and lineage of David."
"Look!" Clarisse nudged Mia and when the girl looked across the square, she could see emerging from another side street a donkey with a figure dressed in blue sitting on it, being led by a young bearded man of about twenty.
"There's Mary and Joseph!" the whispers ran through the crowd.
The trio went from house to house, the youth acting as Joseph going up and knocking on the door. At every place the response was the same: the homeowner would open the door, shake his head, and slam the door shut. As they drew closer to Clarisse's party, she could see the timidity and tension on the face of the young girl who looked to be about fifteen. At last the young couple arrived at the last 'inn', and the innkeeper pointed towards the centre of the square where large rocks had been placed to form a shelter just under the empty flagpole. The girl playing Mary was helped off the donkey, led inside, and seated on a pile of straw. Moments later, a baby's wail was heard, and the young mother lifted the blankets to cuddle the child for a moment and quiet him before placing him in the manger set before her.
Then a huge star fastened to the top of the flagpole was lit, casting a brilliant light over the tableau in the centre of the square. In that moment, from a rooftop on the other side of the square, a piercing voice could be heard. Spotlights were immediately on the 'angel' choir gathered on the roof as well as on a group of men and boys on a lawn surrounded by a flock of sheep. The angels' message was delivered in song, then the angels withdrew. The shepherds and their sheep made their way to the centre of the square, to the stable where the baby was lying. There they knelt in worship.
Clarisse glanced at Mia to see her grand-daughter's face rapt with wonder as she watched the Christmas story unfold before her eyes. She smiled at Joseph who raised his eyebrows and nodded slightly. "Almost ready?" he whispered. "We're up next. Princess Mia, you go first, then you, your Majesty, and I will bring up the rear."
Regally, the three paced down the street and across the square to the stable. Clarisse noticed that Mia was shaking slightly, and after they had given their gifts to the young mother, they stood back to one side. Clarisse's hand touched her grand-daughter's, surprised by the iciness she felt. "It's okay," Mia whispered. "I'm okay. Not cold. Just ... a bit overwhelmed by it all."
Clarisse nodded in acknowledgement, but felt the comforting warmth of Joseph at her side as he stood by her shoulder. She began to tremble herself, on the inside where no one could see, and pressed her hands tightly together in front of herself in an effort to turn her mind from the man beside her back to the nativity scene before her.
As the pageant came to a close, the strains of Silent Night began. Soon everyone in the square picked up the tune and, in a number of different languages, the beloved carol was sung. Clarisse realized in the silence that followed the singing that she could smell snow in the air. It was a cool night, with occasional flakes of snow drifting lazily out of the sky. Mia had informed her that the internet called for a storm during the night. Clarisse fervently hoped that nothing would prevent Pierre's arrival Christmas afternoon. She hadn't seen him since his brief visit to meet Mia in the summer.
The festivities were then moved inside the hall where a huge buffet had been prepared. All the traditional Genovian foods could be found, with an abundance of pears in many of the recipes. It was truly a wonderful feast. Following the supper, the mayor asked for everyone's attention, saying that because of the traditional Pageant, the participants and those who had come to view it had all received gifts from each other that they were probably unaware they were giving. He named them: the gifts of music, anticipation, joy, laughter, sharing, giving of their very best, shelter, festive spirits, and peace. All because of God's promise which, at Christmas time, is fulfilled in the birth of the Christ child.
He then invited everyone to walk down to the river to set a candle adrift, saying that candlelight, flickering against a black emptiness, would perhaps give reassurance that light prevails over dark and civilization over savagery. In the season of the birth of light, it seemed fitting to be floating offerings of light against the dark. The birth of a baby almost 2000 years ago signalled God's hope for the future of mankind. Quoting softly, the mayor added, "The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it."
For a moment, everyone was silent as they thought about what he had said. Then they all moved quietly out of the hall and down to the stream, Clarisse and Mia following the mayor at the head of the line.
The almost-windless night was perfect to set the clear, plastic containers holding tealights adrift. Clarisse picked up her tealight with a smile at the mayor who was lighting the small candles and passing them out. She went down to the edge of the river with the others, and carefully pushed off her container, very mindful of Joseph's steadying hand on her shoulder as she gracefully crouched by the shore. All the people who had attended the Christmas pageant were sending floating candles off into the darkness of the night ... single lights rocking and shimmering as they glided imperceptibly across the water. As one light faded, another grew brighter, as though they were passing one another on separate currents, small candles in translucent boats all rocking tentatively on wavelets kicked up by vagrant winter breezes. A simple candle floating across the water could not be the answer to all of life's problems, but that night Clarisse wished and almost believed it COULD be.
"Beautiful," Joseph said in Clarisse's ear.
She turned to look at him, about to agree, but saw his eyes were only on her. "I ..." Clarisse couldn't speak. It was suddenly hard to breath, hard to think of anything but Joseph, standing so close to her. She wanted him, she thought dizzily, wanted him to hold her, to kiss her. Oh, there was no doubt she was crazy! Yet there was no denying the attraction that had hummed between them, whenever their eyes met, ever since those weeks in San Francisco. Her every sense seemed heightened, her every nerve attuned to his nearness. Tingling with need, burning with awareness, her skin came alive in his presence. Why, she had even been dreaming of him for the last week ... erotic dreams which made her blush to remember!
"Can we go back to the castle and open our gifts now?" Mia interrupted, breaking the spell over Clarisse.
"C-Certainly," Clarisse almost stammered, dropping her eyes from Joseph's and turning away.
When they were heading into the ballroom at the castle which had been lavishly decorated for the use of the royal family, as well as for the gala ball on Boxing Day, Mia stopped Joseph and Charlotte who had murmured their good-nights. "Wait! You two have to stay! I brought you some presents, and I KNOW Grandma has some for you, too! Don't we all get to open our presents tonight?"
"Your highness," Charlotte said, "we get our presents the day after Christmas, at the Boxing Day Ball, along with the rest of the servants ... "
"That's not fair! Neither of you are just, well, SERVANTS! Grandma, tell them! They have to come with us tonight, right?"
"But, Princess Mia ..." Joseph began.
"Please do stay," Clarisse said, unable to say anything else in the face of Mia's insistence. It had never happened before, being only family other years, but Charlotte and Joseph certainly seemed as if they WERE family now.
With a faint air of uncertainty, both Charlotte and Joseph followed Clarisse, Mia and Helen into the room where they all sat down in front of the fire which was blazing on the hearth. Mia looked up at the huge Christmas tree glowing in the corner of the room and said, "Grandma, before we open presents, could you please tell me again why there are spiders on the tree? I hate spiders, real OR fake!"
"It's an ancient custom." Clarisse explained. "We use cobwebs and spiders because they are considered symbols of good luck."
"Can't say I'd ever have thought that." Helen mused. "I always thought they were a symbol of poor housekeeping."
Joseph chuckled, having recovered his aplomb much more quickly than Charlotte. "I think it's because of a spider that tinsel is put on trees as decorations. There are a number of different legends, but my favourite is one telling about when Mary, Joseph and Jesus had to escape from King Herod's soldiers not long after the baby's birth. They hid in a cave, and a spider spun its web over the entrance. The soldiers didn't look in there, no doubt believing the web had been there for days without being disturbed, and merely camped outside the entrance. When the soldiers were gone the next morning, a shepherd pulled down the web and threw it over a tree, where it glittered in the sun. That is why tinsel is used for decorations AND why a spider is a symbol of good luck."
Next, Mia leaned back and looked up at the enormous garland of greenery hanging from the middle of the ceiling. Hoops of willow were woven with holly, ivy, mistletoe and pine, interspersed with rosy apples which hung in bright contrast to the greenery. On top was a circle of candles which had been lit the moment the group had entered the room. "So, what's the story behind THAT decoration?"
"It's a kissing bough."
"A KISSING bough? Like mistletoe, that you have to kiss under it?" Mia asked, leaning forward eagerly. "But why so big? I mean, you have mistletoe hanging all over in the archways and doorways!"
"No, Mia," Clarisse shook her head. "It's called a kissing bough, but you don't just kiss under it the way you do with mistletoe. Long ago, just as we do now, people hung this in the centre of the main room, and beneath it, they sang carols, danced, acted plays ... it was sort of their stage for whatever they were doing at the time. We've had one hanging here in the castle for as long as I can remember. The candles are lit every night starting tonight, Christmas Eve, until Twelfth Night ... January fifth."
"Sounds like it's a bit like mistletoe in that underneath the kissing bough, dreams can come true." Helen said, softly.
"Some things are only possible in dreams," Joseph said. "And dreams are only nice while they last."
"True. But my mother used to say that even dreams can come true when you love someone enough." Charlotte ventured to say timidly. "And Christmas, being, well, sort of the birth of love and joy and peace and hope, means that many dreams can come true at this time."
"Can we open the presents, now?" Mia plaintively broke the silence following Charlotte's words, eying the colourful pile under the tree. "I've never gotten to open presents on Christmas Eve before. Mom always made me wait until Christmas morning. PLEASE can we open them?"
"Mia, really!" Helen protested, but the queen smiled.
"Of course. Will you please do the honours, Charlotte?" Clarisse turned to her assistant.
Mia began to bounce up and down. "All of them! All at once!"
"Mia!" Helen protested again, this time laughing at her daughter's antics.
In no time, the floor was strewn with ripped wrapping paper, ribbons and bows. Clarisse chuckled when Joseph opened his present from Mia ... a pair of huge, fuzzy elf-slippers in red fur trimmed with white around the ankle and on the tip of the turned-up toes, with a sprig of holly on the ankles as well. He put them on and modelled them, grinning as he posed and cavorted about the room while the others shouted with laughter.
Then Clarisse was handed a small box with a tag saying it was for the queen from Joseph. Carefully she unwrapped the parcel. Looking at the writing on the front of the box, she read "Sweet Nighttime Dreams are the province of Margot the Sugarplum Faerie, who casts a sugary glow on the Sleeping World. She is the source of Happy Endings, Sweet Kisses, and Charming Princes who fill the landscape of our dreams."
Opening the box, Clarisse gasped as she drew out a dainty figure of a dancing fairy with clear, sparkling wings, and a full-skirted sparkling purple dress. The ornament was tiny and perfect from the tips of the ivory slippers to the fingertips of an upheld arm.
"Ooh, Grandma, she's beautiful!" exclaimed Mia, leaning over to look. "She looks as if sugar sprinkles were scattered over her." Picking up the box to read it, she added, "If you hang her by your bed, it says you'll be sure to have good dreams." She laughed and teased, "Dreams of sweet kisses and happy endings with the Prince Charming of all your dreams!"
The memory of her most recent dreams came to Clarisse, her dreams concerning her Head of Security. She struggled to keep her composure, but couldn't help wondering if she were to hang this fairy by her bed, would she really dream of Joseph as a charming prince who would give her sweet kisses and ensure a happy ending – a dream she had already had many times in the last few months? Hoping no one could read her thoughts, she tucked the sugarplum fairy carefully back into her tissue paper nest, and looked on as Mia opened her own gifts.
Meanwhile, Joseph opened his gift from Clarisse to reveal an intricate star-shaped box in ivory and gold, with an embossed heart on the top. The card which came with it said, "In Africa, some mothers hold up their newborn babies and face the stars as they sing, asking the stars to take the heart of her child, and to give the child part of the heart of a star in return, for the stars have heart in plenty. The heart of a star is a hunting heart, seeking courage and finding the nourishment which is needed for life. We should all ask for the heart of a star, so that we may seek with courage and trust in our dreams that we will find what we need for our soul and for the well-being of the world." Clarisse had added, in her own writing, "Dear Joseph, you have the heart of a star, having the courage necessary for the well-being of Genovia. Thank you for everything, with all my heart."
Joseph looked up and his eyes caught Clarisse's. She smiled mistily at him, and his face relaxed as he smiled back and mouthed his thank-you's. Then Mia, ever curious, leaned over and studied the card and the box thoughtfully.
After a moment, she said, "Erma Bombeck, an American writer, wrote something once about people who put their dreams in a little box and say, 'Yes, I've got dreams, of course.' Then they put the box away and bring it out once in a while to look in it, and yep, they're still there. They're great dreams, but they never even get out of the box. It takes a lot of guts to put your dreams on the line. I guess that's where courage comes in. I like that idea about having the heart of a star. That's pretty cool, Grandma."
"Thank you, your Majesty," was all Joseph's lips said to Clarisse, but his eyes said much more.
Mia got up and went to the window to check on the snow amount. "Hey, Joe? Do you think we'll really be getting lots of snow? I'd love to see more than just this little bit drifting down. I've never seen snow before, you know."
"According to the forecast, we should, your Highness." Joseph nodded.
"After living through snow for the first part of my life," Helen laughed, "I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be happy to see it again. But now it's for Mia's sake that I hope we do get some."
"If the sky was clear, I'd wish on a star," Mia laughed.
"The Christmas star," murmured Charlotte. "Then wishes and dreams tend to come true."
"I would say that NOT being able to see stars is a very good indication that if you wish for snow, you'll get it," observed Clarisse. "And I DO hope there is not much. Pierre still has to arrive, and these mountain roads become impassible very quickly."
"Okay, then I'll wish for it to come, not tonight but TOMORROW night, after Uncle Pierre is here," Mia promised. "So, what do we do tomorrow?"
"Well, there's a Christmas service in the chapel here first thing, your Highness, then we are all given time to be with our families – the cooks provide cold meals so everyone has some part of the day off." Charlotte replied.
"So where do you go, Charlotte? And Joe?" Mia asked.
"I am her Majesty's Head of Security," Joseph said simply. "I stay here."
Charlotte ducked her head. "There are times her Majesty requires my services ... even on Christmas..."
"So I was RIGHT!" Mia beamed triumphantly. The others looked at her in surprise, and she elaborated, "Joe and Charlotte ARE part of this family!"
Clarisse smiled. "Yes, indeed, Mia. They have been for many years now. Now," she got to her feet, "I do believe it is time to retire or we will not be up for the morning service."
They all said their goodnights and 'Happy Christmas!' echoed through the ancient hallways as the small group dispersed.
O o O o O o O o
Following the meaningful Christmas service in the morning, Mia, Clarisse and Helen looked out at the snow which was coming down much more heavily now and adding to the growing amount on the ground. Mia clapped her hands in excitement, then realized her grandmother was looking disappointed.
"Grandma? What is it?"
"Well, with this snow ... it might mean that Pierre will not be able to be here today as planned."
Just then, Charlotte stepped up to them. "Your Majesty? I'm sorry, but there's a message from Prince Pierre. The roads are blocked and he thinks he might have to wait until tomorrow to try to come."
Sighing, Clarisse nodded. "Thank you, Charlotte. That's what I was afraid would happen."
With a compassionate look on her face, Charlotte turned away and left the three alone again.
"Grandma?"
Clarisse suddenly became aware of Mia speaking to her, and she looked over somewhat guiltily. "I'm sorry, Mia. Yes?"
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For being happy about the snow, which now I find out is keeping Uncle Pierre away. It's just that I've never SEEN it before!"
Chuckling, Clarisse fought off her faintly melancholy mood. "Don't be silly, Mia. You SHOULD be happy about the snow! We'll all go out after lunch and really enjoy it!"
"YES!" Mia cried happily. She trailed after Clarisse and Helen as they moved into the ballroom where the fire had been lit again. "Grandma? Can I ask you something? About Uncle Pierre, I mean?"
"Of course."
Curling up in an armchair, Mia said, "You know when Uncle Pierre was here this summer? Well, at one point I started thinking that he and Charlotte seemed to be really good friends. How long have they known each other? Do you think anything might come of it?"
Clarisse was surprised. She had never thought of anything like that since Pierre was working for the church and Charlotte, well, Charlotte was her assistant! Not that that made any difference, of course, but ...
"You know," Mia continued, "Is it really impossible for them to get together? I don't know anything about royal protocol for Genovia, but what if they do fall in love? Can people who AREN'T royal fall in love and marry royals?"
Knowing that Mia was likely thinking of her own boyfriend, Michael, as well as Pierre and Charlotte, the questions also had Clarisse thinking about herself and Joseph, although she tried to push that thought aside and answer Mia as truthfully as she could. "I suppose there really is no reason why that couldn't happen, except for the expectations of the general populace in the country. There is certainly no law against it, as witness you, yourself, being next in line for the throne."
"Since I am not royal," Helen grimaced at the thought. "I never wanted to be, actually, even though I loved your father."
Now Mia looked confused. "I thought that's why you and Dad were divorced ... because he was royal and you weren't. I thought it WASN'T allowed."
"As I said, there is no law. I told you in San Francisco that when Pierre abdicated, your father had to make the decision about what he wanted to do." Clarisse spoke gently.
"I would not come to Genovia, so his choice had to be between you and I, Mia ... and his country." Helen said, trying to explain. "He chose to be the Crown Prince of Genovia. I loved him as Philippe Renaldi, not as Prince Philippe. Our divorce was partly because I wouldn't move to Genovia, but it was also partly because I knew we did not love each other enough to overcome all the obstacles we would have had to face."
"So, Grandma, if Mom had stayed married to Dad, would she have become a princess when he was elevated to the status of Crown Prince? Would Mom still be a princess, even if they ended up getting divorced later? Ooh, and would Michael be a prince if I married him? I mean, it's interesting. Charlotte would be a princess if she married Uncle Pierre, right? But does it work the other way, too? If you married Joe, would that make him a prince?"
Clarisse jumped and turned startled eyes towards her grand-daughter. "Mia, whatever gave you the idea that I would consider marrying Joseph?" she asked, ignoring the previous questions in her surprise at the last one.
Mia rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, Grandma! It's so obvious you both care a lot about each other! And it was just a question! I think it would be cool if you found out you were in love."
"Mia, love isn't something you can order, just because it would be 'cool', you know." Helen said gently when it appeared that Clarisse couldn't apeak.
"I was just asking! I think it would be so terrific if Charlotte and Uncle Pierre were in love and they married – then Charlotte would be my aunt!"
"May we change the topic, please?" Clarisse gathered her scattered dignity around herself again, smoothly and diplomatically steering the conversation into less controversial channels.
After a light lunch, Mia could wait no longer to get out and experience the snow. Accordingly, she, Helen and Clarisse bundled up and headed out, Joseph putting on a martyred expression and pulling on his winter coat as well.
While Mia and Helen were busy trying to create a huge snowman, both occupied pushing a ball around to catch every bit of snow, Joseph stood not far from Clarisse, admiring her appearance when she got up after lying in the snow for a few moments. Her hair curled around her face, and snow coated her back. He glanced at the impression of the angel she had just formed, then back into her laughing blue eyes.
Snowflakes landed on her eyelashes, making her blink as she gazed at him, the laughter dying suddenly on her lips. She KNEW he wanted to kiss her. She could see it in his eyes, darkened with suppressed desire. She could feel it in the tenseness of his body which communicated his arousal even through the heavy winter clothing he wore.
"Did you mean it?" he murmured, drawing closer, his eyes intent. "That you gave me the gift with all your heart? The gift OF your heart?"
Clarisse couldn't answer, but she could feel herself leaning forward, ever so slightly, her lips parting in anticipation and her skin tingling all over.
Then Mia shouted with laughter, and the spell was broken.
"You are a snow angel," Joseph said softly to Clarisse, changing the subject. "Not only have you created one on the ground there, but you are the very living essence of one."
"Thank you," Clarisse almost whispered. Then she added, in a deceptively light tone, "Did you ever make snow angels yourself?"
"No."
"Be my guest!" she grinned, waving at the ground. "Before Mia and Helen use up all the snow, of course."
"I dare say I could try. It certainly looks easy enough." Joseph lowered himself carefully onto a clear patch of snow near the impression Clarisse had left, and moved his legs and arms as directed. "Now what?" he asked, still lying on the ground, looking up at her.
"Now you have to try to get up without wrecking your picture. That's the hardest part." Clarisse said, laughing slightly.
"Particularly with two bad knees. I begin to think this was not such a good idea!"
"Hey, Joe, need some help getting up?" Mia was suddenly standing beside them, her eyes sparkling. "Oooh, cool! Look at the snow angels, guarding the winter castle! Great idea!" She gave Joseph a hand and tried to heave him up. Clarisse was enlisted to help, and Helen steadied them all. At last Joseph was on his feet again, trying to brush the snow off himself.
Then Mia flopped down herself beside the other two snow angels. "I wanna try this, too."
"There'd be more room to do this if you hadn't used most of the snow for your snowman!" Helen said. "Maybe if we went over to the other side, we could all try it? We've got the snowman butler here by the door now to welcome the guests – and these three angels here – but we can make more over there, can't we?"
"Yeah, let's!" Mia was up in an instant. She looked up at one of the castle's windows, then beckoned and cried, "Charlotte! Come here!"
"Mia ..." Clarisse began, frowning slightly at the actions of the young girl. Her eyes followed Mia's, and she caught sight of her aide standing in the window, a look of longing on her face which was wiped away when Charlotte realized the queen was looking at her. Clarisse waved her down.
When Charlotte appeared, breathless from hurry and wondering what was needed, she laughed aloud at the snow-covered figures.
"Come on, Charlotte!" Mia urged. "We need more angels on the lawn over there!"
"Well, I ..." Charlotte looked down at her skirt, then up at Mia. "I'm sorry, your Highness, but ..."
"You have two minutes to run and get some pants on, your winter coat, mitts, hat and boots!" Mia ordered.
Charlotte glanced at Clarisse who nodded, smiling faintly, then she turned and scurried off to her room. The other four waited impatiently.
"I wish Uncle Pierre were here, too." Mia sighed. "It would have been fun. I wonder if he really DOES like Charlotte?" Then she swiped another bit of snow from Joseph's behind and grinned as she said, "I bet lots of women would like this job, Joe!"
"Oh, really?" he asked, coolly, stepping out of range.
"Yes, really. Women like, umm, oh, like Charlotte! You know, if she can't have Uncle Pierre, she'd maybe be happy with Joe? I bet lots of women have a crush on you, Joe."
His laughter sounded overloud to Clarisse's ears as she froze waiting to hear his response to Mia's outrageous statement.
"Mia, I think you have love on the brain." her mother sighed.
Clarisse resolutely kept her face impassive. She was not getting into this ridiculous conversation.
"Christmas is a time for love. Isn't that what it's all about? Love and family? Sorry, Grandma, I know it's hard for you, since, well, this IS the first Christmas since my father died, but it has been almost a year now, and you still have Uncle Pierre, even if you hardly ever see him." Mia sounded contrite, but determined. "I still think we're supposed to be happy and, oh, I don't know ... it just seems right to talk about love this time of year!"
"Tell me, Princess Mia, what makes you think that Charlotte is in love with anyone?" Joseph asked as Charlotte came rushing out of the castle, this time properly dressed for the cold. She stopped dead, staring at them all, having caught Joseph's words.
"Because I've read that to be happy and fulfilled, you have to be in love." Mia said.
"And you think I'm not happy or fulfilled?" Charlotte asked, confused. "Princess Mia, you don't know what my private life is like."
Mia raised her eyebrow in imitation of her grandmother. "HAVE you a private life?"
"Of COURSE I do!" Charlotte was indignant.
"Seems to me that you're always at Grandma's beck and call. What kind of life is that? Not a private one, that I can see!"
"I AM happy and fulfilled!" Charlotte insisted. Clarisse wondered whether Charlotte was being entirely truthful, and resolved to look into the matter. Was she unknowingly preventing Charlotte from living a 'normal' life by keeping her so busy with royal affairs? When was the last time Charlotte had taken a holiday? Regretfully, Clarisse couldn't remember.
"Then, if what I read is right, you ARE in love with someone!" Mia shot back at Charlotte. "Are you going to tell us who it is?"
Now Charlotte's face was bright red. Clarisse stepped in quickly, deftly steering the topic away from such personal matters. "That's enough, Mia. Are we going to make any more snow angels or not?"
After an afternoon spent 'playing' outdoors, the five trooped back into the castle when the sun went down – very wet, cold, but happy. Joseph built up the fire in the ballroom, then went to change, as did the others. When they gathered together again, they ate their meal by the fire, then Clarisse reminded a reluctant Mia that the television crew was arriving shortly to film the annual 'Royal Christmas Greetings and Year-in-Brief Message' for the Genovian news. This annual broadcast was something Rupert had organized after hearing that Queen Elizabeth in England did it every year.
Last year, Clarisse had been filmed with her sons. This year it was just Mia with her, as Pierre hadn't made it. Telling herself not to be maudlin, Clarisse sat on a chair by fire with the enormous Christmas tree behind her as the cameramen set up the lighting and tested the sound. Watching the technicians in silence, Clarisse was somewhat annoyed when a paper airplane whooshed past her face and tumbled into the fire. Turning with a frown, she saw Charlotte trying not to smile as she ducked behind an openly-grinning Joseph, a beaming Mia ... and PIERRE!
"Oh, my dear boy!" Clarisse flew up and over to her son and hugged him tightly. "How did you get here? I thought the roads were blocked? Oh! You're just in time. Come, Pierre, Mia, I want you with me."
Clarisse was never quite sure how she managed to get through her memorized speech, but Charlotte assured her that she had done it perfectly when the television crew had departed. Holding Pierre's hand tightly, Clarisse sat beside him on the sofa and demanded some of the answers to her questions.
"It's the season for miracles, you know, Mother!" Pierre reminded her, laughing. "And I was determined to come this year. Christmas is about love and family and gift-giving ... and I wanted to be here with you and Mia ... and Joseph and Charlotte. Where are they, by the way? They were here when I first came!"
"I'll send for them," Clarisse said, starting to rise, wondering if perhaps there MIGHT be something to Mia's idea that there was a relationship between Charlotte and Pierre.
"No, Mother, just sit for a moment. You've been busy today. We'll call them in a few moments, when we need more people for Charades."
"Charades?" Mia and Helen asked together, looking puzzled.
"It's a game we usually play Christmas night ... and it works better with more people," Pierre explained. "You know, acting out a word without speaking, so that your team can guess it."
"I know the GAME, I just didn't know we were playing it tonight," Mia said, looking a little stressed at the thought.
"It'll be fun," Pierre assured her. Then he turned to Helen. "So, tell me, are you finally in a new relationship, Helen?"
Mia made a face and Helen blushed a little as she admitted that yes, she was seeing someone. Nudging her daughter, Helen said rather defiantly to Pierre and Clarisse, "The ONLY reason Mia doesn't like him is that he was one of her teachers last year. But he isn't any more."
"I'm glad." Pierre said sincerely. "And I know Philippe would be glad, too. I know he kept in touch with you occasionally. Did he ever have a chance to tell you about the one woman he was pursuing who wasn't at all happy with his attentions? Father was furious with him, of course, because the woman had no family, no royalty ties and no money, and told me to talk to him. Philippe was angry when I spoke to him, however, and defended his choice, then accused me of wanting the woman for myself ... when all along it was Father who was not happy with Philippe's choice. I didn't even KNOW her!"
Helen raised her eyebrows at this. "The KING wasn't happy?" She shot a quick glance at Clarisse then looked away.
Clarisse cast her eyes down. She had known none of this, but she knew that Helen, too, thought that SHE had been the one to urge Philippe to divorce his wife.
Then Pierre said that, after his father had died, Philippe had spoken to him again about the woman, admitting that she would have nothing to do with him anyway. "Just before the accident that killed him, Philippe phoned me, jubilant, to say that the woman had finally admitted that she loved him, too. He said he was planning to confront Father in four days, and wanted me to come home to give him moral support ..." Pierre sighed. "But then he was killed. I've always felt so sorry for him, and for the woman ..."
"Who WAS she?" Mia asked quietly. This was a side of her father she had never thought of before.
Pierre shrugged. "Philippe never told me her name. I never met her, either. Did you, Mother?"
"No," Clarisse said, rather unhappily. "And I never heard this story, either. I ... I should have known something like this had happened, but after Rupert died, I was too busy to pay much attention to Philippe, I'm afraid."
For a moment there was silence, then Pierre shook himself. "I'm sorry. I don't know WHAT made me blurt all this out, and drag down the mood of the evening. I think we should call Charlotte and Joseph in and start our game!"
Accordingly, all distressing topics of conversation were dropped, and laughter reigned for the rest of the evening. At last, quite late, Mia and Helen excused themselves and went to bed, tired from the unaccustomed hours outdoors. Pierre kissed his mother's cheek and hugged her before saying that the drive up the mountain had been more nerve-wracking than he had thought, and if he was to be in any shape for the next day and the ball that evening, he needed some sleep. Joseph and Charlotte, after making sure Clarisse wanted to be left alone, also retired, Charlotte first extinguishing the tree candles. Clarisse said she would take care of the candles on the kissing bough and the ones in the window, and bade them both a soft good night.
When she was alone in the dim light, Clarisse blew out the candles in the window, and stood there staring out at the stars which had appeared now that the clouds had moved off. The snow plows would be out, and the parliament members would be able to make it for the annual Christmas ball the following night. She was so glad Pierre had made it to the winter castle today. She also found herself wondering if there could possibly be a chance that Mia was right, and that Pierre WAS interested in Charlotte. Clarisse couldn't imagine such a thing, but ... what did SHE know about true love? And how was it that she had never known about Philippe and the mysterious woman he had claimed to love? Sighing, and standing even straighter in the dim light from the candles on the kissing bough, Clarisse sternly made herself think of something different.
It would soon be a new year. If only she could see the future, if only she knew she was doing the right thing to keep ruling the country for the next few years until Mia obtained her majority and could be crowned queen! Clarisse suddenly felt vulnerable, open to hurt, and it frightened her that she could no longer trust her own instincts all the time. If only she could wish on a star, the way she had as a child, and make everything right again! She looked up at the stars and thought about the gift she had given Joseph. She loved the idea of the heart of the star having courage and living with trust in dreams that fulfilment in life would be found.
Although she had heard nothing, Clarisse suddenly realized she was no longer alone. She turned to see Joseph standing motionless not far from her. Picking up the metal candle extinguisher from the windowsill, she moved to the kissing bough and began to put the candles out, saying softly, "I'm all right, Joseph. I'll go to bed soon. I'm just thinking about the past ... and the future ..."
He drew closer. "The past is merely the prologue. The future is still a dream. It is the present that counts for us now."
He looked at her in a way that made her heart pound and the blood rush to her head when she glanced at him, her arm still outstretched towards the kissing bough. Unable to look away from him and drowning in the fathomless depths of his eyes, Clarisse fell silent, her every nerve stretched so taut that she felt as though the slightest brush against her skin would be like a bolt of lightning coursing through her body.
Stepping to her side, Joseph murmured huskily, "I want to thank you again, Clarisse, for helping make miracles come true, most especially the miracle of my best Christmas ever since coming to work for the Genovian royal family."
Clarisse dropped the candle extinguisher and closed her eyes for a moment. When he spoke like that, tremors raced all through her. Turning again to him, her eyes soft and shadowy in the dimness of the room, she studied him intently, noting the tension in him seemed to match her own. "What are you doing to me, Joseph?" she asked at last. "Tell me, what exactly is going on here?"
"Just friendship," Joseph lied.
"And a job." reminded Clarisse. Then she mentally kicked herself. She had not thought of Joseph as simply her employee for a long, long time. He was a trusted friend.
"And a job," he agreed.
They stared at each other for a long minute, then he reached out and ran his thumb over her chin, tracing the line of her jaw.
"Just friendship and a job," she reminded him in a shaky whisper, not pulling away.
"Right, but you are standing beneath the mistletoe in the kissing bough. And in spite of just friendship and a job, we are alone," he murmured, then his lips covered hers.
Clarisse closed her eyes, lost in the wonder of his kiss which sent every rational thought out of her mind, and left her drowning in a tidal wave of sensation. His lips were warm and firm, his arms around her were strong and somehow familiar, even though that was impossible. She fit in his arms so perfectly ... was he aware of it, too? No one had ever kissed her like this, made her feel like this. It was a moment that seemed to last an eternity, yet it ended all too quickly.
Breathless, she stared at him when he lifted his head. She was over sixty years old, she had been married and widowed, yet he made her feel young and giddy, like a schoolgirl with her first crush. "More," she whispered at last, simply unable to resist fulfilling her desires for once in her life, even though she knew it was 'wrong' and 'irresponsible' and definitely not something a queen should do.
Joseph obeyed. Clarisse found herself falling into the same pool of sensation as his lips claimed hers once again. She was standing on the brink of a bottomless pit. One more kiss, one more caress, would send her plummeting into the abyss. No ... no, she could NOT fall in love! She had not intended to open herself to that kind of hurt. And yet ... had she a choice? She WAS in love with him! But she had a duty to Genovia ...
Drawing in a shaky breath, Clarisse slid her hands to his shoulders, sending a shock through his body. Then her hands tightened on his shoulders and he realized that she was pushing him away, not pulling him closer. He jerked his head back and muttered, "I'm sorry."
She cupped her hand under his chin and steered his face back to hers. "No," she said, shaking her head for emphasis. "You are NOT sorry. Neither am I." Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes slightly glassy, her lips damp. Obviously their kisses had staggered her as much as they had him. "But this mustn't happen again," she added ruefully. Taking a step backward, her eyes still fixed on his, she licked her lips.
Joseph's willpower crumbled and evaporated. He drew her closer once more and kissed her again. Although she knew it was wrong, Clarisse couldn't resist the magic. She had duties, responsibilities to fulfill ... she had to be sensible, not starry-eyed and romantic. Still, she didn't want to come to her senses ... not quite yet. She wanted to be held for just a moment longer.
"You're right, as usual," Joseph murmured, nuzzling her ear. "It mustn't happen again."
Somehow a tiny voice made itself heard in her brain. This fire of desire they were igniting could destroy both of them, as well as a friendship she had cherished for a long time. With a despairing sigh, Clarisse's hands slid away from his face and stopped his caressing touches, linking her fingers with his. "This has to end. Now, Joseph."
Desire tightened Joseph's face, tempting her almost beyond her control. Just as she was about to give in and fall into his arms once more, he mastered his emotions and slid his own self-control back into place. Carefully disentangling his fingers, he raised her hand to his lips briefly, then released her. "Your Majesty," he said, formally, "do you wish for me to apologize?"
"No," Clarisse said. Then she repeated it more firmly. "No. I wanted it as much as you did. But ..."
"I know. Good night ... Clarisse. Sweet dreams."
"Thank you. Good night, Joseph." Her 'I love you' was not said aloud, nor was his, but nonetheless, they both knew. They also both knew that their love would have to remain unspoken, patiently waiting in the shadows of their lives, until the time was right for them to bring it out into the sunshine. Their dreams would have to carry them through until that time.
O o O o O o O o
When Clarisse awoke the next morning, she stretched deliciously in her warm bed, and smiled at the little figurine of the sugar-plum fairy hanging on her bedpost. It might have been responsible for the fantastic dreams she had had the previous night, but she had the feeling it was Joseph she should thank. For a moment she hugged the delightful interlude the previous night to herself, going over every breath-taking second ... then, with a sigh, she very properly buried the wonderful memories deep. No one must ever suspect what she felt for Joseph, and Clarisse knew it would be impossible to keep secret if she allowed herself to dwell on last evening any more.
When she got up, it didn't help to realize that the soft skin on her face was tender and reddened from the rub of Joseph's beard. Hoping that, should anyone comment, she could claim it was wind burn or the cold from the previous day, Clarisse carefully applied her makeup. A glance out the window when Priscilla drew back the curtains made her smile to see the sun.
"It's promising to be a lovely day for the ball, your Majesty," Priscilla said. "Mr. Motaz's entourage is to arrive within the hour, and the rest of the parliament members will be arriving shortly as well."
"Thank you, Priscilla. Could you have Charlotte come to the dining room after breakfast, please? We have some more details to work out with regard to the Christmas hampers."
"Certainly, your Majesty."
Priscilla withdrew and Clarisse cast one more glance in her mirror to assure herself that no one would know of her indiscretion the previous evening before making her way downstairs to meet Pierre, Mia and Helen for breakfast.
The day went by swiftly. Clarisse put Pierre to work along with herself, Mia, and Helen as they fastened to the tree small presents for the members of parliament, for the many staff members, and indeed for all the villagers, since the Boxing Day ball was a gala for everyone to attend. Mia nudged Clarisse significantly at one point when Pierre and Charlotte were deep in discussion, their heads close together as they poured over lists of the contents of the food hampers to be distributed to every family in the mountain village that evening. Clarisse wasn't sure what she was supposed to be reading into the moment as far as Mia was concerned. She had seen Charlotte and Pierre working together for many years, and it had never occurred to her that one or the other might have, well, FEELINGS for the other. The sad thought insinuated itself in her mind that, had she ever thought Charlotte interested in one of her sons or vice versa, it would have been Philippe, not Pierre, who would have drawn the shy young woman out and romanced her.
The members of Parliament would be staying for the two weeks following the ball, as tradition dictated that their winter holiday be spent at the castle in the mountains. It was to be a time of fun and refreshment for everyone, enabling all to be prepared for the year's work ahead. That afternoon, the very walls of the castle seemed steeped in laughter and love as young children raced through corridors and romped in the snow outside. Older couples teased and argued amicably as they strode through the forest, the village, around the grounds of the castle or gathered in public rooms.
The day after Christmas, being such a busy day which culminated in the glorious ball that night, did not afford Clarisse much time for introspection, which made her extremely grateful. She and Mia wore the traditional 'Christmas crowns' for the ball, and their dresses were, surprisingly enough, very similar in colour to the robes they had worn in the pageant. Mia was in green and Clarisse in a warm red. Both danced the traditional dances with Sebastian Motaz, then other members of Parliament, then the presents were given out by the royal family to everyone in attendance. As the villagers left, Clarisse stood with Pierre and Mia to greet every one of them and be sure they had their gifts and their hampers.
Later in the evening, when many had already departed, Mia whispered to Clarisse, "Have you danced with Joseph yet tonight, Grandma?"
Clarisse turned in surprise. "No. Should I have?"
"I think he'd like it. I danced with him. Charlotte can help Uncle Pierre and I, and you go dance!"
"Well ..." Clarisse hesitated. Traditionally, the king or queen personally greeted the villagers. Still, most of them were already gone ...
"Please, Grandma? Besides," Mia grinned conspiratorially and whispered, "This way I can keep a closer eye on Uncle Pierre and Charlotte!"
Shaking her head in teasing despair, Clarisse stepped back and allowed Mia, who hastily gestured to Charlotte, to take her place. When she entered the ballroom, Clarisse almost jumped when Joseph materialized instantly at her side and offered her his hand. "May I have this dance, your Majesty?"
Smiling graciously, Clarisse took his hand and moved with him onto the floor.
"Are you with me? That smile tells me your thoughts are far away." Joseph murmured as he drew her close.
Clarisse stiffened almost imperceptibly, her smile slipping. Her eyes met his. He was right, as usual. The smile had been a practised one, a mask she assumed automatically and far too often. "I'm sorry, Joseph."
"Are you regretting last night?" was his next comment, his eyes boring into hers. "I feel as though you have been avoiding me all day."
Knowing she had been doing just that, but telling herself it had been unavoidable, Clarisse nevertheless could not lie. "No, I'm not regretting it." she said softly. "But I suppose I ... I HAVE been trying not to think of it today. Joseph, it can't be. You and I ... we cannot fall in love like ordinary people."
"And if we do?" his voice was as soft and intense as hers, containing a hint of the anguish they were both feeling.
Clarisse's eyes fell. "We cannot act on our emotions. We must keep our friendship in the shadows ... at least until Mia is crowned queen."
"So it's not entirely hopeless? When Mia is crowned queen, I may publicly declare that I adore you?"
Faint colour rose in her face. "Joseph, please!"
"I'd like an answer, your Majesty," he whirled her around, then drew her body close in the dance. "May I continue to hope and dream that sometime in the future ...?"
"Yes!" she interrupted him, and her hand touched his cheek gently before returning to its position on his shoulder. "Yes, Joseph, we will BOTH hope and dream for that future."
Joy flared in his eyes, but he said nothing more. Instead he nodded towards the doorway. "Your grand-daughter is plotting something."
Clarisse looked and saw Mia peering through the doorway, a look of delightful anticipation on her face. Following the young girl's gaze, Clarisse saw Pierre and Charlotte dancing together across the room. Charlotte's face was pale, her eyes downcast, and she moved gracefully with Pierre ... but it was obvious she would rather be elsewhere. "Oh, dear. Poor Charlotte."
"Poor Charlotte, and poor Pierre."
"Why would you pity Pierre?" Clarisse looked at Joseph incredulously.
"Mia has obviously decided to try to throw those two together. Pierre has a lot to live up to, following his brother's footsteps THERE."
Clarisse almost stumbled. "What are you saying, Joseph?"
Smoothly sweeping Clarisse into a turn, covering her fumble, Joseph said nothing for a moment.
"Joseph? Please, tell me."
Almost reluctantly, he said, "Philippe was utterly charmed by Charlotte when she first started to work for you. You know he never seemed to settle with one woman after his father forced him to divorce Helen."
"You KNEW Rupert was behind that, not ...?"
"I knew you would never dream of interfering in your son's life, especially when there was the question of a baby still hanging in the balance. I never understood why you allowed the story that the breakup was YOUR fault to circulate, and, more importantly, why you allowed Philippe to believe it."
"I didn't want to come between them ... Rupert never had a very close relationship with Philippe, having expected Pierre to assume the throne. When Pierre finally convinced Rupert that he intended to abdicate, Rupert had no choice but to turn to Philippe. In order for Philippe to succeed, he had to forge a strong relationship with his father, and I did not believe that knowing Rupert was responsible for Philippe's initial unhappiness would help matters." Clarisse covertly eyed Pierre and Charlotte again, then looked at Joseph. "Charlotte ... and Philippe?"
"Charlotte would have nothing to do with him for the longest time. Perhaps that was what piqued his interest. Unless Charlotte says something, all I know is what the maids said at the time ... that Philippe pursued her relentlessly after Rupert's death, and that finally she capitulated. Not twenty-four hours later, Philippe was dead."
"Oh, how horrible for her ..." Clarisse breathed, making little effort to continue the dance. "I don't remember ... I didn't know ... this is what Pierre was talking about the other night, but he didn't know who the woman was. Poor Charlotte!"
"If Pierre really IS interested in her, and it's not just a figment of Mia's imagination, I expect it will take a lot before Charlotte is willing to even think about it. Have you noticed how she is quite willing to remain on the fringe of things, never allowing her emotions to overcome her common sense? I think she has buried her pain and has vowed never to be hurt again."
"She's too young for that!" Clarisse insisted.
"Ah, but many women react the same way to hurt." Joseph's eyes were all-knowing as they met Clarisse's, and she understood that he was referring to her own reaction to the tragedies the previous year.
"I've changed," she murmured, and they resumed their dancing.
"I know."
"Why don't you ask me to prove it?" Clarisse threw back her head, looking at him somewhat defiantly.
Joseph smiled. "Because I know," he repeated.
"Grandma?" Mia was suddenly there.
For the first time in her life, Clarisse felt the urge to throttle someone. Instead, she plastered her 'smile' on her face, and turned to her grand-daughter.
"Everyone is gone home or to bed. Mom and I are heading upstairs now. Uncle Pierre and Charlotte are still dancing ..." Mia turned for a moment to check on the other two, and frowned when she saw Charlotte at the windowsill extinguishing the candles, while her uncle was on the other side of the Christmas tree, putting out those candles. "Well, they WERE dancing. Oh well, maybe they aren't in love after all."
Clarisse's smile relaxed into a real one. "Oh, Mia, I DO love you." and she gave her grand-daughter an impulsive hug, much warmer than the first one she had given all those months ago. "If there is to be anything between Charlotte and Pierre, it will come about, with or without your assistance. In the meantime, just remember that I love YOU and am SO happy you are here, spending this Christmas with us. Happy Christmas, darling."
Mia hugged her back fiercely. "Merry Christmas, Grandma. I love you, too! Good night!" She and Helen disappeared.
"Happy Christmas, Mother!" Pierre was at Clarisse's side next, smiling and bending down to kiss her on the cheek. "A good party, as usual."
"Thank you for coming, Pierre!" Clarisse hugged him tightly. "Good night. See you tomorrow."
"Good night, Mother. Night, Joseph." He raised his voice slightly. "Good night, Charlotte."
Charlotte waved from the other side of the room. "Good night, sir, and Happy Christmas."
Pierre shook his head and winked at Joseph and Clarisse. "She STILL thinks she needs to call me 'sir'. Do you think that'll ever change?" he complained.
Clarisse heard Charlotte's soft chuckle, and her heart leapt. Maybe she WOULD have Charlotte as a daughter-in-law some day! It seemed that the magic of Christmas love was breaking down more barriers than ever this year!
When Pierre had gone, Charlotte came up to Clarisse and Joseph. "Your Majesty, the lists are all in order and we can go over any discrepancies at a later date, but I think everything was covered."
"Thank you so much, Charlotte! Merry Christmas, my dear." Surprising herself as well as the younger woman, Clarisse hugged Charlotte and touched her lips to Charlotte's cheek. "Sweet dreams."
Charlotte flushed brilliantly. "I ... I'll just extinguish the candles on the kissing bough ... unless you will be staying up ..." her voice trailed off.
"No, I am retiring now, as well. Thank you again. Good night, Charlotte. Joseph. Happy Christmas." Clarisse's eyes met Joseph's.
He cleared his throat, then said, "I will see you to your room, your Majesty. Good night, Charlotte. Happy Christmas to you."
"You, too, Joseph! Happy Christmas!" Charlotte smiled, then turned to the kissing bough and paid no more attention to the other two.
Joseph and Clarisse made their way sedately to the queen's suite, which was in darkness, her lady's maids having retired earlier. Joseph opened the door for her, then eyed her intently. "Am I dreaming?"
Her hands came up to cup his face, and his beard tickled her palms. She drew his head closer and kissed him. Then she pulled back. "I've had my dreams too, Joseph. I thought they had faded into nothingness. Instead, because of you, they have flashed back into existence, and so much more brilliantly than before ..."
He didn't let her finish. His mouth captured hers in a kiss that eliminated the need for any more words. The time for talking and protesting was past. As he lifted his lips from hers and gently touched her cheek, he felt awed by the delicate beauty of her face. He marvelled that beneath her captivating feminine loveliness lay a valiant and courageous spirit as strong as steel. Her bravery, her willpower and her refusal to give up filled him with a love that went far beyond the physical attraction she had always held for him. She had invaded every level of his being. And she loved him. The wonder of it made his voice husky as he said, "My dream appears to be coming true tonight."
A radiating warmth invaded the deepest level of her consciousness and touched her spirit with a renewing joy. "OUR dreams are coming true," Clarisse murmured, love for him flowing from the deepest recesses of her heart. She belonged with him. The years she had spent alone had been leading her to this moment. "No matter what happens in public, I know that privately, from this day on, I will never be alone. And some day, finally, you will be mine in the eyes of the world as well," and she clung fiercely to him.
"Some day," he vowed.
Their lips met again and their kiss swept her away, back to her earlier dreams, then forward again into a future dream filled with light and laughter and love. Forever. This could not be wrong. She could not possibly be wrong to feel like this about Joseph, a man not her husband but rather her Head of Security. Yet Clarisse continued to inwardly struggle against the seesaw questions of right and wrong, duty and responsibility, desire and passion, wanting to ignore everything but Joseph. Wrong? Quite the reverse. His was the greatest of gifts to her -- the freedom to live again, to give again, to love again. She wanted to be able to tell him this, and perhaps would some day in the far, distant and nebulous future, but
for now ...
No longer was Queen Clarisse, the REAL queen, hidden behind a veneer of control. A new woman was born, one filled to the brim with emotion and unafraid to show it. Duty? A thing of the past. Responsibility? That was for the future. As their kiss deepened, the past became cloudy, insignificant, the future was forgotten. They clung to each other, driven by the fear of discovery that always hovered, with a wild desperation born of a yearning too long denied. She knew she would never find the words to express the joy of being with him, the sense of belonging, of having finally found that for which she had been always searching.
He knew again that he loved her with a forever kind of love. He had been waiting for this moment for years, it seemed, loving her but never knowing if he would ever be able to tell her. Wishing on the stars, asking the stars for courage and trust in his dreams, indeed, asking for and receiving the heart of a star had seemed to make the difference, and start them moving towards this moment.
Clarisse held him close, knowing a sense of satisfaction and completion she had dreamed of but had never believed truly existed. She had all she needed here in her arms -- and she knew she had the heart of a star, and the courage to live in faith. Still, no matter how she tried to ignore them, a thousand disturbing thoughts rushed in to confront Clarisse. She knew a sense of shock at having put herself, against all reason, into such a position. She had been denying her attraction to Joseph for months and had finally given in to her hunger. A spasm of alarm went rippling through her. What if they were discovered, what if someone saw them kissing in the corridor? What would happen to them? What would happen to Genovia?
"You're allowing yourself to think too much," his husky voice sounded in her ear. "I'm sorry, Clarisse," he murmured.
She opened her eyes to find his eyes shaded with worry she was feeling. "Sorry?" Clarisse was startled. Why was he sorry? Sorry he had kissed her?
"Sorry that I can't shout to the world that I love you. Sorry we can't be married immediately."
Duty reared its ugly head. She could NOT risk losing the crown, the country, right now. They simply could not be together publicly until Mia had been crowned queen. She must NOT put her own desires over her duty to Genovia and to her grand-daughter. "I love you, too, Joseph ... but you're right. I can't marry you yet, or even be seen to have a relationship with you," Clarisse spoke softly, regretfully. "Not until Mia is twenty-one and queen herself."
For a moment there was silence, then he sighed. "I think I'm out of my mind with love for you ... but I am willing to wait and love and dream and wish upon all the stars in the sky that you will finally be mine in the end."
Clarisse's eyes showed her distress. He bent closer and lightly touched her mouth with his. "We'll keep dreaming, Clarisse, TOGETHER, and someday our friendship and our love will be touted as the 'older' romance of the century."
She clung to him briefly, then nodded and released him.
Now that they had finally acknowledged their love for each other, both realized that it was the magic of Christmas that had brought them together and performed miracles. Perhaps the little sugarplum fairy had managed to make both of their dreams come true through her magic, and their own magic, perhaps they both had the courage and the heart of a star. Whatever the reason, the magic of their love, a love that was strong enough to defy propriety and strong enough to bring them together despite all the barriers they had faced and would continue to face, the love they had shared this Christmas, had finally and forever bridged the gap between their dreams and their reality.