A/N This is cruelly short - there will be more tomorrow, I hope. I'm just v.v. busy at the moment. Hope you like - please review and let me know what you think!

As Joseph began to stir, he smiled…her perfume, nothing but a subtle waft of scent, but unmistakeable nonetheless. Rubbing his face against the side of the chair though, he soon realised that he was not in her bed. He wasn't even in her room. For a moment all was still, and he drifted in the denial of the previous days, but it wasn't enough. The sun was spilling into the room through a gap in the curtains. He had to get up, he had to face this…her…everything.

But she had been here, of that he was sure. And as he busied himself with his morning regime, he couldn't draw his mind away from her. Why had she come? And, moreover, why hadn't she woken him? He smiled wryly as he remembered his own late-night trip to her suite the day before, and wondered if she had needed to see him. He had slept well, in spite of the awkward position, wrapped warmly in the blanket…the blanket…that had not been there. She had come to him. He smiled, more genuinely this time, his mind racing at the possibilities, not daring quite to embrace them all.

He cut himself twice while shaving, cursing his suddenly shaky hands. Dabbing on the ointment and wincing at the sting he realised that he was nervous. Of what he wasn't exactly sure. Nothing had changed, she had still asked him to leave, had effectively fired him; he had abandoned his duty and drunk himself into a stupor and…still, she did not want to marry him. And yet, she had come to him.

OoOoOoOoO

As she put the finishing touches to her makeup, Clarisse looked at the clock on her dressing table. Ten minutes, then they would be leaving for the church. She looked at herself once more in the mirror and attempted a smile. Hmm. She still looked tired, and no amount of makeup was going to mask that. And from experience she knew better than to try. She had been awake most of the night, determined not to give in and take something, knowing full well that she had some serious thinking to do.

And she had thought. As the pale morning light had filtered through the gap in the curtains her mind had been made up. She knew it wouldn't be exactly what he wanted to hear, but it would be something at least. She hoped he would understand and see her reasoning. Somewhere in the morning, at ten past three, to be precise, she had realised that there was nothing she wouldn't do for him. She had looked over at the clock and suddenly burst out into a fit of giggles. Unsure whether it was from the relief of finally admitting it, or from the sheer ridiculousness of the formality of her own mind, she decided that she didn't care anymore. And so she giggled to herself, all alone, finally alone to think…curled up in her chair before the fire, Maurice glaring sleepily at her sudden disturbance to his snoozing.

OoOoOoO

In her suite, Mia was feeling desperately sick. She had always known that she would…Jesus, this was no crappy school presentation, she was marrying some random guy from the English aristocracy to secure her throne. It was unbelievable.

As another wave of nausea passed, Charlotte entered the room. They exchanged smiles and Mia sat down, wedding gown and all, by the window.

"Is everything ready, Charlotte?"

Approaching a little closer, Charlotte couldn't help but marvel at the girl's composure. It was scary how much she was like her grandmother sometimes. Even at a time like this, she was able to concentrate on something else,

"Yes, Mia, I've arranged it all….though…"

Mia grinned broadly, shaking her head in amusement,

"S'ok, I've already told you, if it doesn't work, I'll take the rap. If they don't survive the forty minute ride together, well, I guess I could always become Queen now and, well, Shades wouldn't be so bad as a substitute Joe"

Charlotte sniggered and tried not to blush.

"Fair enough…though, from what I've seen of the Queen this morning, this might just work."

"How so?"

"I'm not sure, she just seems calmer…last night I thought she was really going to lose it."

Mia smiled, remembering her grandmother's words,

"Ah, but Charlotte, Queens never lose it…"

Charlotte smiled back, shaking her head sadly,

"Hmm…though perhaps sometimes…"

Mia grinned, amused by Charlotte's grave face,

"I know, I know, but I think she's working on it…gradually!"

OoOoOoOoO

As Joe slid into the car, closing the door behind him, he was suddenly aware that he wasn't alone. Turning quickly, he was horrified to realise that it was Clarisse who was sitting in the far end of the limo. Their eyes met and he saw his shock reflected back at him.

"Joe…"

"Clarisse…?"

The automatic lock clicked shut, and for a second each was distracted by the sudden realisation of the situation. Instinctively, Joe tried the door, knowing already that it was pointless.

It was Clarisse who smiled first. As he turned his attention back to her, he felt the breath catch in his throat, just as it always had. He looked away, his hands, folded tightly in his lap, suddenly seeming the most interesting thing he had ever seen. She leant forward a little, unsure where to begin, and then sat back again. He was under a foot away from her, she could hear his breathing…and yet he couldn't have felt further.

She realised now what must have happened, why Charlotte had been so keen for her to travel alone in the limo. It must have been planned all along. Though she doubted that her aide had been alone in this one, it simply wasn't something she would dare…Mia. It had to be. Clarisse smiled, amazed once again at her granddaughter's perception, her intelligence, her…she faltered, that twinge of regret surfacing once again as she thought of the wedding. But not now, this was not the time for such thoughts. First, Joseph. For once he must come first.

Still he was staring at his hands, not ignoring her exactly…he was too tense to be ignoring her…but not wanting to see her. She sat forward again, her elbows on her knees, her face resting on her hands. For a moment she simply watched him, they way his eyes crinkled a little as he scrutinised his fingers, the way he unconsciously nibbled his lower lip,

"Joseph…" He looked up, but not at her. She continued, her confidence growing,

"Joseph, I…I owe you an apology"