Thank you all for the wonderful reviews and for sharing the news about this story with your friends - Shakayla and I appreciate that! We're moving well into the year that Mia assumes the throne, but we know our couple has much progress to make. This chapter they take a few steps forward and a few back. Though not an "M" rating in this chapter, there are some more adult type situations as our couple tries to find their way back to each other. Please read responsibly.
*hugs* Clarisse and Shakayla
Chapter 25
My Everything
May 1
Charlotte entered the Queen's office quietly, not wanting to disturb her. She knew her boss well enough to know she wasn't working. No, the look of intense concentration on her face was unfocused which meant her queen had little to no interest in the paperwork sitting in front of her.
Before…
Before the dreadful weekend, her faraway look would generally indicate she was working out a strategy for the best way to deal with a problem or an issue with Parliament, but now it often meant dealing with her personal demons.
Demons they all faced on one level or another. Charlotte closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe as the images of the nightmare and the resulting fall-out still haunted her. If the tiny bit she'd been exposed to still kept her awake at night, she couldn't imagine how the Queen still functioned.
Charlotte hesitated before stepping further into the office. Joseph was out of town and so she would need to be the strong one for her queen. She cleared her throat and spoke quietly. "Your Majesty?"
Looking up, the queen turned her focus outward in Charlotte's direction and offered a small smile. "I'm sorry, Charlotte. I was lost in thought. Is everything alright?" There was a pause as Charlotte felt keen eyes sweep across her features. She answered before Charlotte could say a word. "No, everything isn't alright. What's wrong? Is it Joseph? Amelia?"
Hearing the fear in Clarisse's voice prompted Charlotte into action and flooded her body with guilt. She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. Everyone is fine. It's just…" she hesitated.
"Please, Charlotte, just tell me." The anxiety level in Clarisse' voice rose with each word.
The young woman sighed and exhaled slowly. "Jerome delivered your dress for the birthday ball. He insisted he come back for a fitting as he's certain the sizing he has for you is no longer accurate."
Clarisse narrowed her eyes. "Charlotte, what aren't you telling me?"
This was about more than the weight loss, though everyone was concerned about that as well, including Joseph. "The dress is backless." There, she'd said it.
The four words hung in the tense air between them for several moments before Clarisse finally spoke. "I see."
Charlotte needed…wanted to fix this. "I'll call him and ask him to provide an alternate." The images in her mind clarified and she saw the wounds all over her friend's back – wounds she'd help care for night after sleepless night.
Clarisse chewed on her bottom lip before lifting her eyes. "Would you help me try it on? Perhaps we can find an alternate solution."
Her gaze locked on the older woman and she offered her a slight smile. "Of course. Shall we go now?"
Fifteen minutes later, Charlotte held the dress as Clarisse slipped out of her clothes, leaving only the silk of her undergarments. She knew she shouldn't look, but her eyes were drawn to the white strips still marring the otherwise perfectly freckled back of her friend. They'd healed nicely, but evidence of the terror still lingered. A lump formed in her throat and she clenched the gown tighter to avoid reaching up to touch the marks.
"Charlotte?" Clarisse turned to look in her direction, but Charlotte was miles or, more aptly, months behind as she relived those first horrible hours.
"Charlotte, dear." A gentle hand on her arm brought her back to the present and she blinked back the tears starting to form.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I…"
Clarisse squeezed her arm in reassurance. "I'm sure it must be difficult for you. I have the luxury of not having to look at the scars every day. Olivia thinks I'm being super woman since I'm always at least half dressed by the time she arrives in the morning. I wouldn't be able to bear seeing the pity in her eyes."
The younger woman's head lowered, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
Slim fingers lifted Charlotte's chin until she had no choice but to look into fathomless blue eyes. "While Olivia holds a dear place in my heart, my relationship with you is far deeper. We've been through a lot together. As you helped nurse me back to health, you've earned the right to have the horror, the pity, and the sadness in your eyes when you look at me."
Charlotte carefully placed the dress down before collapsing onto the loveseat and burying her head in her hands. The tears she fought to contain on a daily basis sprang from her tightly closed lids and her hair followed the shaking motion of her head.
She sensed Clarisse sitting next to her and felt her arm slip around her shoulders and hold her close. "Charlotte, dear, whatever is wrong? What did I say to upset you? Please…tell me."
After a few moments, Charlotte was able to compose herself. She looked into her friend's eyes and let her see all the guilt. "You misunderstand. It's not pity, but guilt you see in my eyes."
At her confession, Clarisse's eyes became more intense. "Guilt? Whatever would you be guilty for?"
"For not being stronger. For not insisting we check on you earlier. For not being able to move past the nightmare of that weekend."
Strong hands grabbed her shoulders and turned her until she was face to face the woman who had been like a mother to her. "I want you to listen and listen carefully to me. First, you have been so strong. You held this country together while I was out of commission and did all of that while assisting with my care. Other than Joseph, I know of no other person who possesses that kind of internal strength and fortitude. Second, you had no reason to believe we were in danger. We were betrayed by someone who was supposed to be loyal to the family we've created here. If you hadn't insisted when you did…well, we both know the outcome would've been different. And, finally, none of us have been able to move past that weekend…yet. We all have our nightmares to endure. Scott killed three men that night. Joseph and I endured physical and psychological torture; and you, my dear Charlotte, had your innocence ripped away from seeing things no one should ever have to see. So, no more guilt my dear girl. No. More. Guilt. Understood?"
Something in her tone, in her eyes and in the force of her conviction broke through the layers of guilt and shame Charlotte had been feeling since those first terrible moments when she'd placed the blanket over her battered and bruised friend. She wiped the tears away and nodded. "Understood."
She felt the warmth of the older woman's hand on her cheek as she smiled. "Good. Now help me with this dress. It's a beautiful dress and I'm counting on you to help me figure out how I can wear it. I need to feel beautiful again."
"You are beautiful. I understand, though, what you mean. Let's do this." With renewed conviction and a lighter burden, Charlotte stood and slid the dress over the other woman's head.
Clarisse twirled slowly letting the fabric glide across her skin in a gentle caress. "It's perfect."
Charlotte smiled, "Jerome apparently watches your figure as closely as…" She stopped before she finished the sentence.
She received a small glare and then a smile followed by a wink. "Well it is Joseph's job to watch over me, isn't it?"
Relieved she didn't just get herself fired, Charlotte smiled. "Yes ma'am, it is. The dress is perfect. Let me grab some concealer and see if we can make this work."
Clarisse smiled and nodded. "That's the spirit."
She returned a few moments later with a selection of concealers and powder in order to find the one that best matched the skin tone on Clarisse's back. Gently she patted some of the liquid over the scarred area. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, she fought the memories of the other times she performed a similar task. At least this time, the scars had healed…for the most part anyway.
"I know this isn't easy. I appreciate your help." Clarisse offered quietly.
Charlotte watched as the scars disappeared before her eyes. "This is much easier than…well than before. It's working. Let me do the rest and then we'll move to the tri-mirror so you can see."
With loving care, Charlotte went about her task, thankful to be part of something positive for a change. After all the visible scars were covered, she dusted the powder over the entire expanse of her back to make sure everything was even. "All finished."
They moved into the dressing room area and Clarisse turned her back to the mirror and looked over her shoulder. Studying her form intently, she finally smiled. "It's almost as if they aren't there."
"It's perfect. You're perfect." Charlotte offered with a bright smile.
"Well, I'm far from perfect, but you've certainly made me feel lovelier than I've felt in a long time. Might I ask you to help me the night of Amelia's birthday ball?"
"It would be my pleasure, Your Majesty. I'll also inform Jerome the dress is practically perfect in every way."
Clarisse allowed herself one final look in the mirror, enjoying the absence of the painful reminders that always accompanied her. She shook her head. "Absolutely perfect in every possible way."
^^C/J^^
May 15
Joseph stood in front of the fireplace, missing the usual flames. The weather had warmed to the point where it was no longer necessary. Thoughts of the shadows dancing over Clarisse's fair skin spiked the desire he found harder and harder to ignore. He saw no solution to this problem. He'd promised patience and he always kept his promises.
"Joseph, thank you for stopping by before you leave. I'm sorry you have to fly overnight."
He turned to see her clad in blue satin pajamas, modest by any standards but something about knowing under the soft material lie even softer skin did nothing to assist his problem. He smiled and tried to keep his eyes trained on her face. "Only means the time will go faster as I will sleep."
She stepped closer, the palm of her hand over his heart heating his flesh and increasing the beat. Her knowing smile nearly melted him where he stood. "Liar, I know you never sleep on the plane."
His hand slid from her shoulder down her arm. "Only because watching you sleep is far more interesting."
Her smile faded slightly. "I wish I could come with you." She turned away and stared at the darkened hearth as well. "Damned Parliament."
Not wanting to spend the little time they had discussing the stodgy members of Parliament, he moved to stand in front of her. "Parliament is not worthy of our time. I will be sure to record all of the special moments for you to watch upon our return. Amelia and Charlotte have been working on setting something up called Skype which, if it works, will allow you to see the ceremony as it happens."
"That will be wonderful." He watched as her gaze found his, the blue of her eyes almost iridescent in the faint light. "And what would be worthy of our time at this moment?" The softness of her voice caressed him and prompted him into action.
Lifting his fingers to her cheek, he gently caressed watching as her eyes closed at his touch. "Sharing our love in the only way we can right now…that is a worthy endeavor." The pads of his fingers slid across her lips, his eyes riveted to the pink fullness separating slightly at his touch.
"Oh Joseph…" she whispered.
"Tell me if I go too far. One word from you and I promise to stop." The tips of his fingers trembled with their need to feel her skin under their touch.
At her nod, he let his fingers drift lower, tracing her jaw line and then down to the curve of her neck. He kept the touch light, remembering the horror she experienced being choked. He studied her intently to ensure no adverse reaction. Other than the movement of her throat as she swallowed, she offered no additional response.
He continued the exploration downward along the collar of her night shirt. The vee in the front dipped low enough to offer barely more than a hint of cleavage which also gave him the privilege of seeing the top of the scar. He blinked rapidly and swallowed hard himself as he fought the memory of how the scar came to be.
Using only his index finger, he slid into the valley between her breasts, caressing the scarred area. He felt the expansion of her chest as the gasp slid from the lips he'd touch only a minute before. "Joseph…I…"
"Trust me. I want to change the bad to good. Let's push the boundaries a little bit together." Every fiber in his being wanted her to give the slightest nod of approval, but he needed the nod as he wouldn't reverse the progress they'd made.
Time passed inexorably slow as he watched and waited, finally she tilted her head in a nod. Not wanting to give her time to change her mind, he lifted his other hand and slowly undid the first couple buttons on her top. The rise and fall of her chest fueled his quest. "Okay?" He whispered.
She licked her lips and whispered in return, "Okay."
The beating of his heart pounded against his ribcage as his finger continued to trace the scar another inch and then another lower. The beating stopped for several seconds when he realized she wasn't wearing a bra. He allowed his hand to fan out to cover more area, noting the contrast of the soft pillow of curves to the scarred area.
"It's so ugly…"
He heard the pained confession and wanted to show her he didn't see it that way. Lowering his head, he kissed the exposed area starting at her breastbone and moving lower until he reached the scar. With loving care, he kissed the same few inches of scar he'd just touched. One of her hands moved to his shoulder while the other held his head close to her. His tongue soothed over the area and he heard the moan slip unbidden from her lips, the vibration of her pleasure felt in his lips. "So beautiful…."
He moved back slightly and let his hand slide inside the satin of her shirt to cover her heart as his lips journeyed upward again to kiss her. The strong beat played a steady rhythm against his palm. His kiss started lightly, but when her hand slid around his neck and pulled him deeper in, he didn't fight her.
So, so good. He moaned his pleasure as Clarisse tilted her head and the sweet nectar of her tongue slid across his lips. Parting to let her in, he was awash with so many sensations, it made it hard to think…to stay in control.
Moving his hand lower, he cupped the precious weight of her breast in his hand. His thumb slid over the small bud, bringing it to attention and the woman in his arms out of the kiss.
Deep draws of air mingled around them. She'd stopped the kiss, but she'd not stepped out of his embrace. "Did I go too far?"
She shook her head and laid it on his shoulder, moving her hand to trap his against her body and under the satin. "You went just far enough. Thank you for loving the imperfections and finding beauty in them."
"I look forward to doing that for each and every inch of your beautiful body." Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, he closed his eyes and captured this moment in his mind.
"Hurry home, Joseph…. Hurry home."
^^C/J^^
May 22 – Princess Mia's Birthday Ball
Joseph tried to appear nonchalant as he waited for Clarisse to make her appearance. He'd seen her briefly when he arrived with the Princess, but then Charlotte had whisked the royal family away to deal with all the last minute preparations for the ball. He tried not to think of the Christmas ball and the fear they'd had to deal with. When he spoke to Clarisse while he was in America, she seemed more at peace and ready to enjoy dancing in public again.
Their progress had been significant, despite all the setbacks. His blood heated as he recalled their steamy goodbye only a few days ago. Was it possible they might finally be able to move past the events of that weekend?
"The Eagle is flying…" Charlotte's voice broke through the pleasant memory and his eyes fixed on the corridor, waiting for her arrival. Sparkling peach fabric moved softly against her body as she walked confidently toward him. Before he could move forward to greet her, she gracefully twirled offering him a view of the scooped back of her dress.
Sleep deprivation must be worse than he thought as his eyes captured the flawless skin on her back. Though he'd not seen the scars, he'd witnessed the brutality as Jason brought the whip down over and over on her freckled skin. Needing to distract himself from the painful memory, he extended his hand to hers and lifted the gloved fingers for a kiss. "Beautiful….but, you're late Your Majesty."
The brilliant smile on her face warmed his heart. "A Queen is never late. Everyone else is… simply early."
At that moment, there were at least a million things he wanted to say, but even though Charlotte had lowered her head to offer them the illusion of privacy, he knew hundreds of people were waiting for her to enter and announce the Princess.
She cupped his cheek and he leaned into her touch. He prayed they could pick up where they left off, when he'd had to say good-bye.
Three long hours later, Joseph finally had the privilege of escorting her to her suite. The ball had progressed without a hitch for the Queen and only a few minor hiccups for the Princess. Clarisse had danced with him a couple of times and managed the other dances with a large portion of her grace intact.
Once at her door, she turned and smiled. "Would you join me for a nightcap? I feel the need to celebrate…Genovia's new queen is now in residence at the palace."
He nodded and stepped inside her suite. His fingers slid along her cheek and jawbone. "Very true, though I hold a great deal of love, admiration and affection for her current queen as well."
Her blush warmed his heart and his small flicker of hope received new life and grew into a brighter flame. "Let me clear the suite and then we'll have the nightcap."
She nodded and leaned against the doorframe. He felt her eyes on him as he checked any potential hiding places as well as the security of the windows and secret passageway. "All clear."
"Thank you. I appreciate the extra security measures, though I hate they're necessary." She walked to the bar and poured them both a measure of scotch. He noticed she tended to favor the stronger drink when they were alone, leaving wine or her usual tea for public appearances. Truthfully, he wasn't sure if that pleased or worried him. Did she need the stronger beverage to relax her or had she simply come to prefer his drink of choice?
She lifted the glass, "To Genovia's future queen."
The glasses clinked. "Here, here." He swallowed a few times and then asked. "Speaking of the Princess, has she been informed of the new security measures?"
Clarisse enjoyed a more delicate sip, liquid layering her satin lips with a glossy sheen. Joseph fought the urge to capture her mouth in his and assist her with the task. As if reading his mind, the tip of her pink tongue slid along her mouth capturing every drop. He suppressed a groan.
"Yes, she questioned Scott at first about it as her impatient side didn't appreciate the extra waiting time. Once he explained the new security directive came straight from you, she became more agreeable." She set the glass down and her gaze drifted a thousand miles away. "I hated seeing the worry lines on her sweet, young forehead as she began to process that someone out there might truly want to hurt her."
He moved closer and cupped her cheek, lifting until her gaze was locked with his. "Better she learn the lesson now and be vigilant."
The blue of her eyes disappeared as her lids descended. He knew she was remembering when their complacency cost them dearly. His lips found hers and pressed gently wanting to recapture the mood from earlier. "No more talk of security or other mundane matters, I'd rather focus on how absolutely stunningly beautiful you look in that dress."
She pulled him into an embrace, his hands resting at her hips. "Mmm, I do feel rather beautiful. Jerome outdid himself this time."
Joseph wanted to feel the skin of her back under his touch. He lifted his hand to caress and felt her fingers around his wrist. The clouds in her eyes made them difficult to read. Her back had healed, why would she hesitate? Unless she didn't want his touch…
"As beautiful as the dress is, I would like to change into something more comfortable. Would you excuse me for a moment?"
His gaze pierced hers trying to fathom whether this was a good thing or bad. He nodded, "Of course."
While she was gone, he decided he didn't care if the season didn't call for it, he wanted a fire – just a small one, more for effect than heat. Discarding his jacket and tie, he busied himself with the task. Minutes later, a few flames danced in the dim light of the room.
"Thank you for the fire, I miss having one every night."
He turned at the sound of her voice and his breath caught in his throat. Her tall, lithe body was wrapped in ivory silk, the robe falling midway between her knees and ankles. He dare not even consider what lay below the covering as his body would refuse to be subdued…no man could resist a woman as beautiful as Clarisse.
Her face clouded, "Say something, Joseph…please." She took steps toward him, never letting her gaze leave his. Once in front of him, she clasped his hands in hers. "The doctor suggested we try to move things forward… After our good-bye, I thought…" Her hands trembled and she released her hold on him. "I'm sorry…"
The sadness in her tone tore through his paralysis and he reached out to reclaim her hand. "No, wait, my love. It is I who am sorry. Your beauty stole my breath and ability to speak." The other hand slid along her arm and up to her shoulder and then finally to cup her cheek. "Breathtakingly beautiful, that's what you are and I am honored you are willing to try."
She moved to sit on the edge of the couch, her ankles crossed properly. She gestured to the cushion next to her. "I'm willing to try."
Taking the seat next to her, he angled his body in order to face her. Beginning where he had during their good-bye, his fingertips started their caress on her cheek, tenderly exploring and moving lower. Once his hand had moved to her shoulder, his lips found hers for a kiss. The taste of scotch still lingered, both intensifying and intoxicating the connection.
This time it was the tip of his tongue sliding along her luscious lips as he probed for entrance. The murmur of pleasure as her mouth parted ignited the small flame he'd been controlling for weeks, if not months. Peripherally he felt her hand soothing his chest, shoulders and arms as he fell deeper and deeper into her.
Needing to breathe and calm his racing heart, he pulled away from the kiss. Quickly remembering himself, his eyes scanned her face for signs of distress. So far, so good. "Okay?" He whispered.
Her small smile warmed his heart even further. "Mmm, better than okay."
"Another step?"
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, a move he found enticingly adorable. After only a moment's hesitation, she nodded. He leaned forward and kissed her gently again. "Show me."
Reaching for his hand, she lifted it and kissed his palm before lowering it to the sash of her robe. Her eyes were dark, like the ocean at midnight. Keeping his eyes on hers, his fingers fought their trembling to untie the loose knot. As the material separated, he lowered his eyes to find a matching gown underneath. His right hand slid below the material on her shoulder and pushed it down, revealing a spaghetti strap for her sleeve. Wanting to pay homage to the freckled skin, he leaned forward and began to place tender kisses on the newly revealed flesh.
Adrenaline surged as her fingers toyed with the fringe of hair surrounding his smooth pate. Wanting to feel connected, the kisses journeyed upward until they reached her tempting mouth once again. As the kiss deepened, his hand drifted lower to explore. The fingers moved slowly down the scar, allowing him to feel the rise and fall of her chest. Unable to resist one moment longer, his hand slid under the fabric to cup her breast. The weight felt perfect in his hand, their mutual moans of pleasure filled the room.
Desire heated his blood and kicked his arousal up another notch. Leaning into her, he angled his head, tongues battling while his hand squeezed and caressed the precious weight…his control slipping from his grasp. For a moment…only a moment, he had the privilege of forgetting.
Until…
A firm hand pushed him gently back causing him to cease his motions. The desire in her eyes had clouded over with fear. Remembering Doc Weston's words, he whispered. "Let's talk about it, tell me the trigger? What can I do differently?"
He tried to stay focused on her face, but the heaving of her chest and her partially revealed breast commanded his attention. After a moment, she answered. "Perhaps a lighter touch? I know it was desire that guided your hand, but it sparked memories of Rich's less than delicate handling of my body."
Joseph lifted his eyes to hers and saw the fear as the memory took hold. His index finger reached out and traced her well-kissed lips. "Allow me to try again?"
A small nod as her eyes closed and she leaned against the cushions was a subtle signal, yet enough. Regaining control of his body, thoughts and reigning in his arousal, he forced himself to use a lighter touch.
Fingering along the edges of the bodice, he stroked her gently through the satin alternating from soft touches on the top, to circling the taut bud, to a firmer stroke on the underside. His efforts paid off as her body arched and she whispered, "Oh Joseph…"
Her husky whisper served as gasoline on the flame he wanted to control…needed to control. His hand moved lower as he leaned in to kiss her again. He tried to focus on the kiss, but the exploration of his hand took center stage. The gentle curve of her waist, the perfect curve of her hip…the muscles of her thigh rippling under his touch. The caress continued lower until the satin ended and the soft-as-silk skin started.
Sensing no immediate resistance, he allowed himself the pleasure of slipping under the hem of her gown as he caressed the top of her thigh. This was how it was supposed to be…how it should have been… her warm, willing body singing with desire and need for him… For him!
As the caress deepened, his hand slid to the inside of her thigh, a thousand fantasies of losing himself between those amazing legs heated his blood. A moment later, the fantasy shattered as her hands pushed hard against him and she scrambled away from him. "Stop! No!" The volume of her voice iced not only the building heat, but chilled the entire thread of progress they'd built.
Quickly he raised his hands in defense. "I'm sorry…Clarisse, what's wrong? Talk to me. Don't shut me out…please."
She righted her gown and pulled the robe tightly around her. "That's enough for tonight."
Moving to the other end of the couch, even though she was no longer sitting, to indicate him giving her some space, he retrieved his glass and took a long draw of the amber liquid. He saw the panic, the fear and, damn it, the horror clearly written on her face. Blinking rapidly to clear the fog of desire from his brain, he tried to recall at what moment the panic set in. "I only wanted to touch the inside of your thigh. I would never touch you…well, there, without your permission. Surely you realize that?"
"I have been touched many times, in many places, without giving permission." The pain in her statement tore at his soul. How could he have allowed himself to lose control? Things had been going so well. He hung his head as the cold realization washed over him, dousing any remaining flames. He, too, had touched her there…multiple times, without express permission – even if he had done so to save her from a more vile touch…
He nodded, "You're correct. I apologize." As he threw back the last of his drink, knowing he would have to leave in a few moments, his brain focused on the moment right before she pushed him away. There had been something different…not just in her reaction, but in the feel of her skin under his touch. He'd only experienced it for a moment…but it was there.
Standing, he moved a few steps closer, still careful not to invade her personal space. "I am sorry, Clarisse. Thank you for trying. Perhaps sometime we can try again?"
Her arms hugged her body tightly, but she nodded. "Perhaps."
^^C/J^^
May 27
Clarisse sat staring blindly out the large picture window in the library, the mountains shrouded in the darkness of the night sky, mirroring the hue of her soul. Her relationship with Joseph had taken a wrong turn and currently remained at a stand-still or…she feared…had moved in reverse. The situation in Genovia had moved from the straight path she laid out onto a difficult road filled with hair-pin turns and dangerous valleys.
Thirty days…
One month for her granddaughter to wed or the crown goes to Sir Nicholas or, more importantly, the power to Mabry. Power he would abuse.
And the worst part of it all? She'd actually arranged a slide show of prospective suitors for her to choose her future husband – a slide show! Joseph had supported her, but his eyes had told a different story. Once again, she was at a loss to fully articulate her position, her emotions…her needs.
"Gramma?"
At the sound of her granddaughter's voice, she drew a slow breath. "Yes, Amelia. Is everything alright?"
"May I come in and sit with you for a minute?"
"Of course, darling." She patted the cushion next to her, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay as she recalled the number of times she or Joseph had done the same for the other. Will he still want to sit beside me on Dr. Weston's couch?
She felt the couch dip and the wide-eyed gaze of her granddaughter resting upon her. After a few moments, she spoke. "I wanted to apologize for yesterday."
The soft confession brought her from her inner concerns. Turning toward the young woman, her hand reached out to her shoulder. "Whatever for, my darling?"
Mia stood and moved to the window, her fingers twirling the long dark hair. "Yesterday…in the throne room."
Clarisse forced her mind to clear out personal concerns and to focus on the terrible events of yesterday. As she replayed the timeline, she arrived at the moment she believed brought on the apology. She stood and moved to stand next to Amelia, staring into the same darkness she had been for hours. "One must never apologize for telling the truth. You long for true love, as your grandmother I wish that for you too."
"And my Queen?" Her voice was guarded.
Clarisse sighed. "Your queen wants you to understand that the role you are agreeing to fulfil is a life filled with both opportunity and sacrifice. Agreeing to an arranged marriage…"
Mia's sigh mirrored hers. "Is part of the sacrifice."
She turned to face her granddaughter, putting her hands on her shoulders so they faced each other. "It may start off that way, but doesn't have to stay that way. Andrew is a wonderful young man and sometimes love finds us in the strangest of places and ways."
"But you never found true love…not with Grandfather anyway." The guarded tone was now edged with a hint of accusation.
Clarisse inhaled slowly, "You are far too young to understand this right now, but sometimes there are things that are just as important, if not more important than our romantic notion of love."
Mia's eyes narrowed, "You're saying your love for Joe and his for you isn't the most important thing in your life?"
Another slow exhale. Why must she always ask me such personal questions? Does she not realize I'm trying to protect her? "It is not."
The chocolate brown of her eyes brimmed with tears. "How can you say that, Gramma?"
Again, her words failed her. Damn those men. "Amelia, the relationship between Joseph and I is far more complicated…far more intertwined than the simple notion you're implying."
Her granddaughter stepped into her private space, making Clarisse have to force herself not to move back. "He loves you, Gramma, that's obvious to me and Pierre. What is he to you?"
Control…she needed to regain control of this situation. Drawing to her full height, she leaned forward until Amelia was forced to take a step back under the force of the full Queen's glare. "What he is to me is none of your, or anyone else's, business. Now if there's nothing else…"
She steeled herself against the watery brown eyes. The brown hair shaking, "Nothing else, Your Majesty." With her statement, she turned on her heel and left.
Watching the retreating form, Clarisse allowed a few errant tears to slip down her cheek. She turned back to the dark window and whispered, "He's my everything, Amelia. He's my everything."
^^C/J^^