Joseph caught Clarisse's elbow as she ascended the staircase to their suite. They walked in silence, with a sense of uncertainty mixed with dread. Joseph held open the door and they entered the room. Joseph poured himself a glass of whiskey, and bourbon on ice for Clarisse. They stood in front of the crackling fireplace for several minutes before either of them spoke.
"You know, it's a miracle that he's not found out before", Clarisse said quietly, setting her glass on the mantle.
"I suppose that's true, but that's not the point at the moment. He's about to find out, and the question is, from whom?" Joseph looked at her pointedly, expecting an outburst.
Clarisse sighed and sank to the couch, tucking her feet underneath her, resting her head in her hand. "You've been absolutely right about this, from the beginning. I'm the one who handled it badly; I'm the one who never wanted him to find out the truth of who he is. Now I have no choice"
"Clarisse, I supported, hell, I agreed with your decision to not tell him. But times have changed, we're married, you're no longer Queen, and frankly, I've never been satisfied with being just his bodyguard, and I won't be satisfied with being his mother's husband." Joseph paused, took a drink and spoke quietly: "I want him to know I'm his father."
She looked up at him; her eyes brimming with unshed tears and nodded, "Yes, and I do too."