Joseph couldn't make it better.

He wanted to. He desperately wanted to take every piece of her shattered heart and hold it tight until he could mold it back into one whole piece. But he did not have that power.

The night it had happened, he had known what to do. When Shades motioned him over, just at the moment her majesty had looked about to approach him with what he was hoping was a dance invitation, he had known exactly what to do. She knew something was wrong, that was evident by her face's change as she watched his face. He'd given some quick instructions and escorted her out of the room to give her the news in private, leaving others to the arduous task of informing the guests of the tragedy and sending them home. Far from a fitting end for a ball.

But he hadn't worried about that. He only worried about her. He'd escorted her to her suite, as quickly as possible, knowing she would need utter privacy. She'd asked, repeatedly, what was wrong. Her line of questioning seemed to indicate she thought there was a threat to the crown.

She surely didn't know how right and how wrong she was.

He'd waited until they were safely in her suite before he sat her on her couch, knelt before her, and holding both her hands informed her as gently as he could - as though gentleness were a thing even possible with such a blow - that her younger son and heir apparent to the throne of Genovia, had been killed that evening in an automobile wreck on his way to the very ball they'd been enjoying.

He had held her. Held her while she stared blankly, trying to comprehend the words. While she tried to fight him off, insisting that there was a mistake, that this hadn't happened, that someone needed to identify the body and prove it wasn't Philippe.

When he'd informed her that the body had, in fact, been identified by Philippe's long-time personal body guard, and that they weren't going to put her through the identification because the body was so mangled, she had finally broken. And he had held her as tightly as he could, as though he could prevent her from shattering into the millions of pieces he knew she felt she'd become. He had held her while gut-wrenching sobs emitted from someplace deeper in her soul than most people ever knew existed. He didn't envy anyone who did know it existed, because he wasn't sure that anything but such a deep pain could reveal the chasm.

He had held her until the royal physician had finally come and given her something to help her sleep, something he doubted she even knew she had taken because by that time she was almost catatonic, staring numbly across the room at absolutely nothing.

He had held her until she had slept, and then carried her to her bed where he laid her down, still in her ballgown, and gave orders to her ladies' maids that they weren't to touch her except to remove any pin that might stab her in her sleep. Otherwise, she was to sleep until she had to wake and they could deal with the fallout to the gown and jewels and anything else then.

But that was that night. Now, on this night, he didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to help the woman who had to bury her son today. He didn't know how to help her after she'd had to maintain just the right level of mourning without looking too completely broken, because even her grief was under a microscope. He had hoped maybe it helped when she cried and held her eldest son, still in his priestly robes, when they finally returned to some semblance of privacy at the palace after the extensive and grueling day of viewings and receivings and motorcades and, of course, the cemetery itself. But when he finally escorted her to her room and she asked him to come in and just be with her for a bit, it was clear she still had a lot of healing to do. Of course she did, he hadn't expected her not to. He didn't know how to help her.

He just knew that this wasn't it.

As soon as they'd entered the room, she'd turned to him and kissed him. Kissed him hard, desperately, probingly, searchingly. Achingly. As though she was trying to suck her relief out of his body.

Out of all the times he'd imagined their first kiss, this was certainly not what he'd imagined, but he couldn't even mourn the loss of a proper first kiss right now, because she was running her hands over his torso, front and back alternately, and then she was fiddling with the buttons of his dress shirt, and by the time his brain finally caught up to what was happening he had also worked out exactly why and knew he had to stop this. Now.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss and pushing her back just a bit from him but holding her hands in the hopes that she wouldn't think he was pushing her away. He had no intention of pushing her away, he just couldn't be what she wanted him to be right now.

"Clarisse -" he began, but she switched to kissing across his face, and down his neck, fingers tugging now at his neck tie, trying to gain access to the top buttons and properly open his shirt up. He stepped back and spoke a little more firmly.

"Clarisse. No."

She looked up into his eyes, startled, and stared for just a moment, before she spoke, pain defining her expression and her words. "Take me away, Joseph. Please."

"I can't."

"You can. I know you want to. Please, take me away from this. Just pretend. Pretend, if you can't be you. Make believe we're on a desert island, just the two of us. Taste me and feel me and let me feel. Let me feel, Joseph. I need to feel . . . I need something that doesn't hurt. I need . . . I need . . . ."

Suddenly, she was in his arms again, but sobbing this time, tears falling both onto and inside of his partially-opened shirt. All the emotions she'd had to pretend were firmly under control all day were flowing out now, and as her body shook with grief, he wrapped his arms tightly around her and gently half-guided and half-carried her over to the couch. As they collapsed onto it together, he cried too. He cried for the man he had barely known, only having come to the palace staff when Philippe was already about to leave for college. He cried for the country that didn't have a clear ruler now. But mostly, he cried for his dear Clarisse and all the pain he knew she was feeling.

When finally her tears subsided she turned her contorted, tear-streaked face up to him. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I'm sorry," he whispered back. "You do know it's not because I don't want to be with you?"

"I know. I didn't mean to -"

"Shhh. None of that. If I thought I could do anything, anything at all, to ease your pain, I would. I would do it in a heartbeat. Please believe that."

"I do. Joseph, I - I think that may be the only thing left in the world that I do believe right now."

He hooked a finger under her chin, thumb stroking her jawline lightly. "One day, my dear, you will reach the end of wearing black, and on that day, and not before, I will seek you."

There was no smile - that was not a thing she was capable of just yet - but there was perhaps just a hint of mirth right at the corner of her eyes as she asked, "And will you ever reach the end of wearing black?"

He didn't smile either, but hoped to convey that same hint of mirth as he responded, "Never. But mine is by choice, not in mourning."

She nodded, and rested her head against his shoulder again. "Just hold me, Joseph. Please. I know you can't always, but for now . . . please just hold me."

"Now, and whenever you need," he whispered, and just stopped himself shy of adding to the end, "My love." But from the way she sighed and snuggled into him a little closer, he thought perhaps she heard it anyway.

The Island

Make believe we've landed
On a desert Island
Bathe me in the waters
Warm me in the moonlight
Taste me with your kisses
Find my secret places
Touch me 'till I tremble
Free my wings for flying
And catch me while I'm falling
Keep your arms around me
Like there's no tomorrow
Let me know you love me
On our little Island
Not a soul can see us
Show me how to love you
Teach me how to please you
Lay your dreams beside me
Only stars will listen
To our cries and whispers
You were made to love me
And I was made to love you
Keep your arms around me
Lose yourself inside me
Make it last forever
I can see the Island
Shining in the distance
Now we're getting closer
Keep your arms around me
Now we're almost there