Hello everyone, this is just a quick note to thank you all for reading and taking time to leave reviews on all my previous chapters on this story. I appreciate it so much, and honestly can't thank you enough.

Here's the next chapter for you all…

Memories Of Her Father - Monday 21st November 1983.

It's a little like being underwater. You're aware of the world around you but you can't hear sounds properly, you can't make sense of things, you feel detached, and that's how Clarisse felt right now – detached from the world.

Even when Rupert is standing beside the bed it takes her a while to tune into the fact that the noise that was taking place somewhere in the distance was him tapping on her bedroom door. She moves slowly, as if her eyes can't take everything in like they usually would, and she looks from his legs slowly up to his face. He looks ashen, sad, and when she's in her right mind she'll realise that this has been a blow to him as well. He mumbles something to her about needing to eat, sees him gesturing to the tray he has set down on her bedside table. But she shakes her head without forming words, she can't face food, even though her entire body feels empty.

She closes her eyes as Rupert places the palm of his hand against her forehead, it is a soothing tactic, but right now she just needs to be left alone so she keeps her eyes closed until she hears the bedroom door shut after him. And then she can sink back below the water, into her memories of her time with her beloved father. Her père.

"I think here is the perfect spot," Philippe said as glanced around the field next to his family home before looking up into the sky.

"What for père?" Five year old Clarisse asked as she looked up at her father standing beside her, staring up into the sky.

Looking down at his daughter, Philippe smiled and squeezed her hand. "For hunting shapes in the sky of course," he said and laid out the blanket he had brought with them before lowering himself to sit down on it next to her.

"I don't understand, père," Clarisse said innocently as she looked up into the sky and frowned in confusion. "There aren't any shapes in the sky."

"Come lay next to me," Philippe said and patted the blanket beside him as Clarisse looked back at him, "and let me explain what you have to do."

"Okay père," Clarisse said and laid down on the blanket beside her father. The truth was, she absolutely loved spending time alone with her father. He was her best friend, his little shadow. Everywhere he went, she was never far behind and she couldn't wait for him now to explain to her about the shapes in the sky.

"You see those clouds," Philippe said as he raised his arm above them and pointed lazily into the sky at some passing clouds.

"Yes," Clarisse nodded, feeling like she might burst from excitement.

"Well if you stare at them long enough they will change into shapes," he said while lowering his arm back down beside him and rested his hand down on his chest. "Just you look, but be sure now to concentrate. And you tell me what you see first."

"Ok, père," Clarisse giggled and stared, like her father told her to, up at the clouds in the sky. Wondering how on earth they would ever see shapes in them. But, it all began to make sense when just a moment later, "bunny," Clarisse exclaimed while pointing up at the cloud that now resembled a bunny.

"Oh yes, you are right," Philippe smiled happily, "you found a bunny."

"I did, I did," Clarisse exclaimed excitedly, "and I love bunnies."

"I know you do," Philippe smiled as he turned his head to his daughter, "and you know what," he said and watched as his little girl turned her head to look at him lying beside her, "I think that's what I'm going to call you from now on."

"What père? What are you going to call me," she asked curiously, a smile on her face.

"I am going to call you, my bunny," Philippe smiled and they both giggled.

Standing at the bottom of the staircase, Pierre and Philippe watched as their father made his way down towards them. "How is she?" Pierre asked.

Shaking his head, Rupert honestly didn't know what to say. What to tell them. "The same, she's still in bed, still refusing to eat."

"Oh," Pierre replied sadly, watching his father step from the last step and move to stand in front him and his brother. "Do you think that she will be alright for the funeral this afternoon?"

"I honestly don't know, but I do hope so," Rupert said and looked at his eldest son. "I'll go back up and try again in a little while."

"Okay," Pierre nodded.

"Has anyone thought that maybe Joseph might be able to help?" Philippe asked and watched as both his brother and father looked at him. "He might be able to get through to her, and I know he's in town for the funeral."

"It had crossed my mind actually, yes," Rupert said and nodded slightly. "Does anyone know where he's staying?"

"I assume at the hotel where Sabrina and Harry usually stay, but if not I am sure that Sabrina will know where he is," Philippe said. "Do you want me to find out when they return from their walk?"

"Yes, please Philippe," Rupert nodded. "Find out and let me know."

"I will," Philippe nodded.

"So you're just gonna call him like that? Expect him to come and help," Pierre said as his father looked at him and nodded. "Have you forgotten that they ended things last week, the day before all this happened I might add, which has obviously contributed to how she is feeling now. Why she can't even get out of bed."

"No, I haven't forgotten Pierre, and you are right it probably has contributed, yes, among other things. But if he can come talk to her," Rupert said, knowing that them ending their relationship, then being attacked certainly hasn't helped with the loss of her father and best friend. "It might help your mother, be what she needs right now. To see him."

"Hasn't she been through enough already," Pierre said, interrupting his father, "I personally think that calling Joseph now to come and help is a bad idea, it will only add more heartache. Something mother really doesn't need right now."

Rupert nodded and thought a moment about what he said. "That's true," he said and looked to Philippe. "Don't find out just yet, leave it for now and we will see how it goes later."

"Alright," Philippe nodded and looked towards the main door as Helen and her parents came through it and made their way over to them. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Larry said somewhat sombrely.

"How are you all this morning?" Grace asked as she stepped closer and kissed Philippe's cheek.

"We are ok, just really worried about mother," Philippe said as Grace stepped closer to Rupert and kissed his cheek too.

"I imagine you are," Grace said as she stepped back and looked up at her daughter and son-in-law as they greeted one another. "Is she still in bed?"

"Yes, and still not eating either," Rupert said as they all looked at him. "I took her up breakfast this morning, but she just laid there."

"Oh, how sad," Grace said sadly.

"It is, it is terribly sad," Pierre agreed and they all stood in silence a moment.

"Anyway," Rupert began, pulling everyone from their thoughts and watched as they all looked at him, "please go on through and have breakfast," he said as he glanced up the staircase before looking back at his sons, "I'm going to go and try with your mother again. See if she will talk to me this time."

"Do you want me, or Philippe, to go instead?" Pierre asked.

"No, it's alright I can do it," Rupert said and shook his head, "you go with the others and have breakfast."

"Alright, well you know where we are if you need us," Pierre said.

"Yes, I do, of course," Rupert said, giving him the smallest of smiles.

Pacing the upstairs hallway outside the suite that his wife's best friends were currently occupying a short time later, Rupert wondered if he was actually doing the right thing. Waiting for them to return from their walk, to ask if they could get in touch with Joseph for him, to ask him to come and see Clarisse. To see if it would help. Or, if his son was right? Had his wife suffered enough without adding more to it.

"Rupert?" Sabrina said a moment later as she and Harry slowly walked towards him and watched him stop pacing and turn to them. "Is everything alright?"

"Shh," Rupert replied, putting his forefinger up to his lips. "I need to speak to you about something, can we talk privately?" He asked quietly.

"Of course, come in," Sabrina nodded and lead the way into the suite. "How is Clarisse?"

"Still not good," Rupert said as he followed her into the room and stopped a few feet from the armchair. "And I was wondering if you might do something for me, without Pierre finding out?" He said as Sabrina turned to him.

"If it helps her, I will do anything," Sabrina nodded and folded her arms as her husband closed the door behind them and walked over to stand beside her.

"What can we do for you?" Harry asked and put his hand on Sabrina's back.

Sitting slumped behind the desk in his office later that morning, with one arm resting on the armrest of his chair and his other outstretched on his desk, Rupert stared across the room, thinking back over the last week and how hard everyone, including himself, had found it, grieving for the glue of the family, when a knock came to his door. "Come," he called out and averted his gaze to the door as his wife's assistant, Sasha, opened it and stepped into the room.

"Mr Elizondo has arrived, your highness," Sasha said, watching as the King sat up straight behind his desk and nodded.

"Thank you, Sasha," he said while getting to his feet, "please show him in."

"Of course, your highness," Sasha said and stepped further into the room, opening the door more and allowing Joseph entry into the King's office.

"You sent for me, your highness," Joseph said as he walked over to stand in front of the King's desk.

"I did, yes. Thank you for coming so quickly," Rupert said and gestured to one of the seats opposite his desk before sitting back in his own chair, "please take a seat."

"Thank you, your highness," Joseph said and bowed his head before taking a seat. "How is Clarisse, after everything?" He asked.

"I'll be honest, she isn't good, Joseph," Rupert said with a shake of his head, "she's the reason I sent for you actually. I am hoping that you might be able to help in someway."

"I'd do anything I can to help, you know that," Joseph replied and watched as the King nodded.

"I thought as much," Rupert said and studied him a moment before continuing. "Well, I am hoping that you might talk to her. See if she will open up to you, we have all tried here and she just shuts herself away."

"I see," Joseph said and his heart broke. "Perhaps I should have returned straight away, been here for her. Instead of staying away."

"I understand why you didn't come back, with everything going on, however, it wouldn't have been the wisest decision. You being here," Rupert said. "But I understand from Sabrina that you have been calling regularly? To check and make sure Clarisse is ok?"

"Yes, but you know how it is," Joseph said, "I could tell given the whole situation that Sabrina was reluctant to give me too many details over the phone. And I know that she has kept stuff from me too."

"Well we appreciate you for calling to check on her all the same," Rupert said. "Now, I will let you go up in a minute, as time is ticking, but I must warn you before you do go up to see her, that she still has some bruising from the prime ministers attack."

"Alright," he nodded as his heart sank. He had been told bits about what happened from Sabrina, but like he just said to the King, she was unable to go into too much detail over the phone. And the thought that anyone could hurt Clarisse that way, especially when he wasn't around to protect her, made him angry and his blood boil. "Before I go up to see her, please tell me what exactly happened?" He asked.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Rupert asked.

"I need to know," Joseph said and watched as Rupert stared across the desk at him a long moment before finally nodding.

Picking up the glass decanter in her suite, Clarisse removed the lid and poured herself a shot of scotch into one of the glasses on the tray before putting the lid back on and putting the bottle back down. And while placing one hand on her chest, slipping her fingers in the opening of her robe, she picked up the glass of scotch she had just poured with her other hand and walked over to the sofa, where she sat down on one of the ends before tucking her legs up under her and resting the glass down on her thigh.

She had finally pulled herself from her bed, knowing that she needed to get up soon anyway for her father's funeral that afternoon, an event that she had tried her best to shut out all week. Knowing that if she attended, his passing would be official. That he won't be coming back. And that was something she was having trouble with, the idea of him no longer being there, seeing his smile and hearing his voice everyday, and never seeing him again was far to much too bear.

Pressing a hand nervously to her stomach, Clarisse took a deep breath and prepared to go out into her suite where her father was stood waiting for her. She had just finished getting ready for her wedding and she was just about to show him her dress for the very first time.

Stepping into the room moments later, Clarisse gazed lovingly across the room at her father stood looking out of the french doors. "Père," she said softly and watched as he turned to her.

He was instantly blown away over how stunningly beautiful she looked standing there in her wedding dress. "You look..." he began while walking over to stand in front of her and took hold of her hands in his, "so beautiful."

"Thank you, père," Clarisse said as she studied her fathers face and watched as his eyes glistened with tears, "oh no père, please don't cry or I will cry too. And that wouldn't be good." She said with a small laugh.

"I'm trying not too," Philippe said and turned to the side while putting a hand up to his face, trying his best to compose himself. "I just can't believe this day is here, your wedding day."

"I know," Clarisse nodded and watched as he took a deep breath before turning back to face her. "It's all happened so so fast," she said, pressing a hand to her fluttering stomach once again and left it there. "I'm feeling quite nervous now though."

"And you have every right to be, I know me and your mère were when we got married, like so many other couples are," Philippe said and watched as Clarisse nodded slightly, "but you're about to marry a prince, you're about to become a princess, and not many people can say that," he said and they both laughed.

"No, that's true," Clarisse smiled.

"I am so incredibly proud of you and the woman that you have become," Philippe said softly, getting teary as he spoke, "just please promise me that you will never forget how much I love you. No matter what happens, or where life takes you. And that I will always be there for you."

Seeing the sadness in her père's eyes, Clarisse stepped closer and reached up to whisper in his ear. "Père, no matter what I do, or where I go in my life, you will always be my first love, my number one man and my hero. Because behind every great daughter is an amazing, père. Right?" She said and pulled back just enough to look in his eyes.

"That's right, there is," Philippe laughed and gave her hand a small squeeze before stepping closer and kissed her cheek. "I love you, bunny."

"I love you too, père," Clarisse smiled as he pulled back and looked into her eyes.

Blinking away her tears at the memory from her wedding day all those years ago, she raised the glass to her lips and swallowed the drink in one before leaning forward and slamming the glass down on the coffee table in front of her, the liquid burning her throat as she slumped back against the cushions on the sofa.

"Clarisse?" Joseph said softly from where he stood just inside her door a moment later and watched as she turned her head to him.