"King Sebastian and Queen Annalisa kindly request your presence on the 21st January, at their Skaugum residence, to attend a Winter Ball, in celebration of their 25 years of marriage"

The invitation card was propped against Clarisse's teacup that morning, as Joseph brought in the breakfast tray. It was a Sunday, one week into the New Year, and he was sure that she'd still be dozing. Once again, though, his wife surprised him.

"What are you reading, darling?" She looked up, her glasses perched on the end of her nose, brows knitted, clearly puzzled by something.

"Tell me, husband dearest, why is it that men always strive to make total asses out of themselves?" He snorted, tickled by her uncharacteristic turn of phrase, and more than a little intrigued by what had prompted this strange outburst. Keeping a straight face, he replied,

"Well, my dear, usually we are either tricked into it by some woman, so besotted by a woman that we don't realise, or, as in my case, generally both."

"Hmmm…" was the only reply he got, as she returned to her book.

Shaking his head, he set the tray down on the bedside table, and proceeded to climb back in next to her. Not exactly sure he wanted to eat yet, he stretched back onto the pillow, and, crossing his feet, ran his hand casually down her back. He decided to try again.

"So…are you going to tell me what you're reading? Which man has irritated you this time?" He continued to stroke her back, smiling to himself remembering the first time he'd convinced her to put on one of his oversized pyjama shirts, and how, from that day on she'd refused to take it off…well, unless given an incentive, that is.

"Mr Darcy." He groaned, remembering Mia's drooling over the man. She continued, "Honestly, he's such a cad. I really can't see the attraction one bit."

He couldn't help laugh at that one. No, Clarisse really wasn't one to suffer men with egos.

With that, she slipped off her glasses and put the book to one side. Sliding down to lie next to him, she too stretched her back out. She came to rest against his chest, and he wrapped an arm around her to pull her close. As he kissed the top of her head, she opened her eyes and looked across his body to the table, a smile spreading across her lips.

"You made breakfast again?"

"Hmmm…"

"Liar", she whispered, crawling up his body a little, until her face was level with his. He shifted a little, to kiss her, but she merely raised an eyebrow and dodged his lips. "OK, ok" he groaned, "maybe I didn't exactly make it…but I did go and get it from the kitchens."

She smiled, and brought her lips down to his, loving the shiver she felt down her spine. He slipped his other arm around her and pulled her to rest on top of him, as they deepened the kiss. Clarisse's eyes closed shut, as she lost herself in the feeling. Joe on the other hand couldn't take his eyes from her. He had spent so long having to kiss her with his eyes shut, in a fairytale dream where she had been his, that the reality of the situation still needed to impress itself on his brain. It was a beautiful clear morning, the sun streaming through the window reflected the gold in her hair, Joseph noticed. He smiled a little, and she pulled back a little, feeling his lips curling.

"What?", she asked playfully.

"Oh nothing…just you." He lightly stroked her lips with his own, as if to emphasise the point.

He pulled her close again, kissing her collarbone, one by one undoing the buttons, and then gently easing the shirt down her shoulders. She closed her eyes, as he lowered her back onto the pillow. The castle was silent, all she could hear was their own desire, and both relished in the knowledge that, for once, there would be no intrusion.

Later, the tea long gone cold, she noticed the invitation. She picked it up and read the inscription. Joseph was taking a shower, and she could hear him singing above the spray. She chuckled to herself. It would be their first 'official' trip abroad together. 'I wonder…?' she mused, her mind beginning to whirr with possibilities…