Chapter 6

Summoning up some kind of courage, Joseph began the short walk across the room to begin the grave conversation he must have with the Princess. Joseph seemed to be in another world, a world all alone, not quite believing the past two days, nor the fact that his beloved had all but vanished. He walked through the tunnel ahead of him, knowing he must be moving faster than it seemed.

What actually happened, Joseph had missed. His concentration had escaped him, and his thoughts all whirled in a river of white water. He felt the pain on his head, and the liquid flowing down his chest. Looking up, Joseph found himself on the floor.

Mia rushed to his side, kneeling beside him, watching the blood ooze from the side of his head. It was still slightly a blurr to him, his surroundings and the voices he heard. He made out several apologies, and nodded in return. He brought his hand up to his head, feeling the warm liquid plaster his palm as well.

Joseph tried to shake off the blurr, knowing now was not the time to lose his head, although apparently it was time for it to be injured. His Queen was much more important to him. His Queen and his wife. That sounded so remarkably wonderful. It gave Joseph what he needed to pull himself up, and bring himself back into the real world.

"Joseph?"

"I'm fine Mia, just a little banged up." Joseph spied the glass on the floor, the whiskey soaking his chest, and what was left of the small end table, and put them all together. "Really, Mia, I'm fine."

"You're not fine, your head is bleeding badly." Mia motioned for a maid, taking one of the linen napkins from her hands. "I've been trying to cut off the drinks for an hour now..." Mia whispered to Joseph.

"Shades will take care of it. Don't worry. Mia, have you seen your grandmother this evening?" Joseph took the napkin from her, and held it to his head. "Could I have some ice, please?"

"She should have slept all evening. I know how boring that conference was, and how tired she was when I left. Why did you let her get up?" Joseph took the clean napkin he was handed, pressing it to his head. The ice was hard, and the ends sharply poked in his skin, but it eased the pain. Clearly Mia had not seen her, and Joseph could not bring himself to tell her, not now. She had enough on her hands. He would have to tell her soon enough.

"Let me go get cleaned up, Mia," Joseph tugged at his whiskey stained shirt. "I'll be back. Get Shades in here, he'll get this whole mess cleaned up," Joseph motioned to the floor and all. He quickly made his exit before he had to answer Mia's question. He did not want to lie to her.

Taking the back stairs, Joseph headed to his room. He planned on cleaning himself up quickly, then returning to the business at hand. Shades would have to declare her missing, and it would have to be done soon. The grounds and palace were still under total lock down, so she could not have gotten far, not without someone noticing. However with the amount and type of company the palace had, anything could happen. Joseph knew this firsthand, and it worried him. Hearing the rumors flow of his injury, Joseph quietly announced his state, his position, and his plans as he took the long way to his room. His old room, he reminded himself.

Should I? ...or should I not? Hmmm. Well, let's see how my mind works.

Before the door shut behind him, Joseph had his shirt unbuttoned and ready to strip off. It wreaked of whiskey, and was already quite sour smelling. His head throbbed, and Joseph held the ice against it once more.

He slipped his shoes off, and pulled off his socks one-handed. They too were drowned in the drink. Joseph was beginning to wonder how deep it was to the bottom of that glass. He needed to hurry, and reminding himself of that, he headed for the bath.

Following the dim soft light of the lamp in the far corner, Joseph made his way. He always kept the lamp on, for as head of security he was often up and down all night. It had saved him precious time when things were hectic, and it had welcomed him each night when he came in, so tired he could hardly move. Tonight it shed light, though not very bright, but more than enough to ease his worst fear.

"Shades, I've found her." Joseph whispered into his microphone, feeling the warmth of the words spread throughout his whole body. "She's fine, she's sleeping."

"Copy that," came the reply.

Joseph switched off the equipment and took it off. His eyes never left her. She had never looked so beautiful to him. The need to touch her was overwhelming. Joseph made his way beside her, trailing his fingertips up her leg, over her hip, dipping down in her waist, and up over her arm to her shoulder.

Just by being there, she had made him forget the pain in his head, the odor of the whiskey and smoke, and the turmoil his body and mind had been through in the past hours. It was a relief like no other Joseph had ever needed, or felt. He watched her chest rise and fall, slowly, beautifully. She was well, sleeping peacefully. Despite the relief, Joseph needed to know if she still loved him, and did not regret their hasty marriage.