A/N: For this little story you have my mother to blame. grin On my birthday she told me a story about some childhood friends of hers and it just wouldn't leave me alone until it was written out... So, I hope you do enjoy this...

Disclaimer: I still own nothing...sniff

"My Princess"
Part 1

In retrospect it was inevitable that they get married. If she was completely honest with herself, she had always known that one day they would.

Clarisse leant against the window frame in her bedroom. It was still very early in the morning, the palace asleep for the most part, but she had awoken and not been able to drift off again. Too many thoughts were running through her mind, too many sensations travelling her body. She'd rather gotten up than disturb Joseph with her tossing and turning. He did need his sleep after all.

Only clad in her silk robe she stood by the window letting the first rays of the sun warm her. Admittedly, Clarisse felt somewhat awkward. Being nude underneath her robe was a sensation she was entirely unaccustomed to. Yet she couldn't be bothered with dressing. Any bit more of clothing would have been too cumbersome, too restrictive. That she couldn't have bared this morning. Not this morning.

Too many walls were broken down last night and too many masks abandoned. It would have been a lie to wear a nightgown or a pyjama now. And lying was something Clarisse did not want to do to herself anymore.

Looking over to the bed, the smile came unbidden, but inexorably. The sight of her husband lying naked among the rumpled sheets sleeping deeply warmed her entire being and made her heart soar. Her husband. Her prince.

"Will you move into my sandcastle with me, Rissie?"

"I can't Joey. We've got to be married to move into the same house." The voice of the four-year-old girl sounded utterly shocked at the mere suggestion. That was not done. No proper girl lived with a guy without being married. Momma had said so.

If the girl's was a picture of shock, then the three-year-old boy's was one of frustration. Girls were so complicated. It was just a sandcastle and he only wanted to play. It was a great sandcastle and he was proud of it. And they could play knights and pirates in it. Rissie usually loved such things and she had lots of ideas.

Why was she saying such stupid things now? They didn't need to be married for the big battle. Who married for playing anyway?

Still, young Joey wanted to play in the sandcastle and he liked Rissie to play there too. She was okay for a girl, most of the time.

He scrunched his nose in serious thought and looked into the expectant face of his companion. Finally, his small dark face lit up in decision.

"Okay, you win. So, will you marry me, Rissie?"

The girl eyed him for a full minute, the glint of mischief well hidden in her blue eyes. Then all of a sudden, she leapt to the other side of the sandcastle. "No!"

A second later the first fistful of sand hit the small boy.

Joey was indignant. Gathering a fistful of sand himself he threw it at the girl on the other side. "You will! Because I am a prince and you are my princess. And princes always get to marry their princesses."

The man on the bed moved in his sleep, unconsciously seeking a source of more warmth. The sheets bunching around his hips provided a rather lovely view for the woman at the window, but could not keep the chill away from the sleeping man.

Clarisse smiled tremulously. There was so much to love and so much to be grateful for. So many memories. That had been the first marriage proposal she had received over a sandcastle. She chuckled. That day was still one of the fondest memories of her life.

Joey – her beloved companion of early childhood. The son of her mother's maid. Her favourite playmate in the vast gardens of her father's estate. They had been inseparable – she and her prince.

"That is my squaw, so stay away from her." The boy's dark eyes were shooting fire at his companions.

Nicolo, one of the older boys instinctively took a step backwards. It was no fun to get into trouble with Joey Romerro. That boy was one of the best playmates in the neighbourhood, but you'd better not come too close to his princess. Or his squaw for today's game. The idea had been great. They'd play cowboy and Indians and the girls were either the cowgirls or the squaws and the prises for the winning party. The little baroness was playing along as a cowgirl. Nicolo had to admit, he was impressed with the blond girl. She was nice and had no problem getting dirty at all.

But it had made Joey and his boys more determined to win their battle. Now, the baroness and that other girl were bound to the totem and awaiting their fate as prisoners. Nicolo, just like the great Old Shatterhand had come into the camp to demand the girls back.

But Joey, despite being much younger than Nicolo himself was obviously set on fighting to keep his prise.

"That is my squaw now, I won her." The five year old insisted.

"I'm not your squaw!" suddenly the blond girl yelled in rage. "Even Indians have to marry a woman, before she becomes their squaw. And you didn't marry me yet. So, I'm not yours."

The boys shot around, both in shock, but the older one fighting to keep in his giggles. That little baroness was even better than he had thought. With a barely visible wink, she signalled that she had discovered the ploy.

Joey and his boys would never know what hit them.

Joey turned to face his best friend with narrowing eyes. Honestly, where had Karl May ever written that Indians had to marry their squaws. Trust Rissie to make something like that up.

"You'll be silent, woman." He bellowed. "I'll marry you alright."

At that moment the yell of Nicolo's invading party sounded through the air and out of the bushes several boys and girls ran into the small clearing.

The two girls were unbound from the 'totem' and Elisha asked her companion: "You marry him?"

Rissie laughed "No."

"You will, because you are my squaw." A furious Joe yelled, while being dragged away.

The sun had risen higher. Therefore its rays were stronger now, warming her back. Yet, most of the warmth she felt came from the sight before her eyes. She could not get enough of it. Not this morning, not this week, not ever.

If wishes were horses, beggars would ride…

She snorted mentally. How true. What a beggar she had been, always wishing and never knowing what for and why.

"Hey Romerro, happy for getting the chance to tag alongside your princess?" Dominic Mabrey gloated. At almost eleven years of age, the future Viscount stood tall and broad, towering easily over eight year old Joey.

He loved to torture the younger boy, who, despite his poor background was the star of Mertz' Elementary School. The poor little bugger had even managed to have the queen of the school, baroness Clarisse Gerard among his regulars.

That annoyed Dominic to no end. That little urchin had no right to be the star of the school and he certainly had no right to consort himself with a relative of the king. He, Dominic Mabrey, future Viscount, was the only one who should spend free time with Clarisse Gerard. They came from the same circles of society.

Yet, she seemed to be Romerro's best friend.

"Bugger off, Mabrey. Nobody has asked for your opinion." Nicolo interrupted and stepped between the two other boys. He knew Joey's explosive temper, when it came to Rissie. Anybody saying one word too many in that respect, quickly made acquaintance with Joey's fists.

However, that Mabrey-idiot apparently had not learned from his last experience. The new tooth had not come yet, but apparently Mabrey had already forgotten.

"Tell me, Romerro," Dominic went on, "how many of her father's shoes did you have to wipe this morning to be allowed to talk to her?"

The tale-telling sound of knuckles connecting with a chin sounded through the suddenly eerily silent schoolyard.

Upon his arrival Mr. Sagan, the teacher on duty only saw young Joey Romerro being restrained by his friends while baroness Clarisse towered over the Mabrey-boy, her fist still raised for a second punch. Her voice shook with rage, when she yelled at him: "Shut up, Mabrey! Don't you dare to insinuate that somebody has to pay for my friendship. Even if that were so, you could never find enough money to get it. I choose my friends and Joey is my best friend, so you better bugger off or I break your chin too."

"Anything the matter, children?" Mr. Sagan asked, pretending to be completely ignorant.

"No sir. Mabrey just stumbled and fell on his nose." Elisha Derrieux said innocently.

Sagan smiled inwardly. Another protector. This odd little couple certainly had some very good friends.

Pretending to inspect the scene again, as the children now released Joey from their grip and the boy immediately stood next to the blond girl, Sagan shook his head and said: "I do hope, you two will invite me to your wedding one day."

As he turned, he heard young Joey exclaim: "See, I told you I marry you one day, my princess."

He seemed to have known what had not come to her until a few hours ago. That it was fate. That there was no chance for them to be without each other. Of course, there had been times when she had believed it too. When it had been a lifeline, as a matter of fact.

"I'll wait for you, my princess. I always think of you and one day, I'll marry you and then you will never be alone again." He said earnestly, putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her to him.

She looked so lost in her black clothes and he decided that he really did not like her in black. She looked good, of course, well despite the fact that she was a girl and he didn't really like girls at the moment, but the black seemed to be like a wall between them and walls was not something they should have. She was his princess and he was her prince.

"But you will forget me, when I'm so far away, Joey." Tears were running down her cheeks again.

Finally, she simply threw herself against him. "I don't want to go to that boarding school, Joey. I want to stay here with you and Nico and Lisha and with Rosa and my Mama, I want my Mama back... I don't want to go away." Rissie cried.

She hated her father for sending her away. Only because her Mama was gone she had to go away too. That was not fair. The tears fell harder and the sobs wrecking the thin body became heavier.

Joey helplessly patted her back. He hated it no less than she did. For all ten years of his life, Rissie had been with him every day. He could not imagine life without her. She was his best friend and his princess.

"I'll never forget you, Rissie." He whispered, his voice small and choked with emotion. "You are my princess and I'll always remember you…."

"Baroness?" the voice of Joey's mother sounded through the back garden. "Baroness, your father is looking for you. You must leave now."

With a heavy heart, Rosa saw the young baroness and her son sitting on the bench. Her heart ached not only for the angelic little girl, who had just lost her mother and was now sent away so that her father would not be bothered with her, but also for her own son. The children had been so close all the years and she feared that the vows, that had been made in jest so far would one day be spoken in earnest, but without hope.

Stifling her sobs, the young baroness got up from the bench, the mask of cool aloofness slipping easily onto her features. "Thank you, Rosa." She said regally, before the pain became too much and she threw herself into the woman's open arms. "Goodbye Rosa," she sobbed, "I'll miss you so much."

"And I will miss you baroness. You'll be good in that school, my little star. I don't want to hear any complaints, you hear me."

The girl only nodded solemnly, then turned around. "Bye Joey."

"Bye." He choked out.

Then, suddenly, they were hugging fiercely again.

"Will you marry me?"

Rissie laughed. "Yes, soon." Then just as suddenly, she kissed his cheek and ran towards the driveway, before anybody could see her new tears.

The lifeline had held out for over four years, along with the letters she received and wrote. Letters that spoke of a happy and carefree childhood with their friends, of fun outings, of freedom.

The lifeline of hoping to be returning soon and joining them again, when she was back for holidays. It always worked. During summer, she was back and was just Rissie. It was like her real persona that could stay there, while another person named Clarisse went back to the boarding school in autumn.

She wiped the tears that came unbidden away from her cheeks with the back of her hands. It was water under the bridge. She was here now. He was here now.

He stirred in his sleep turning over on his back. Her gaze was riveted on his chest. A more recent memory of her hands running over his chest, her nails grazing his skin, his aroused groan at the sensation came to her mind and she felt a warmth of excitement rushing through her body.

"Hey Joe, are you going to propose to her tonight again?"

"You'd like that just for your entertainment, right?" The teenager good-naturedly joked.

Still, Nicolo saw the hesitation in his friend. It would be better indeed, if Lisha did not hear that. Despite being friends with the baroness herself, she would not appreciate her boyfriend repeating this childhood habit again. The five years, Clarisse had already spent in the British boarding school, had done nothing to diminish the bond between Joe and his princess. Nicolo however guessed that this might be changing soon. There were rumours about the baroness and the plans that were made for her. Lately Clarisse had written much less frequently and her letters no longer contained questions about their life. She wrote politely and charming as ever, but something had changed. She had changed. Probably, she would not even appear at his graduation party.

The room became eerily silent all of a sudden.

The two boys turned and Nicolo felt his jaw drop. Gods, when had this happened?

She was a vision and every inch the baroness.

Joe's feet developed a life of their own. As a new song started, he walked over to her and reaching out to take her hand in his. When they began to dance, he knew that this was what he wanted to have forever. Holding her in his arms, smelling her sweet perfume and feeling her body sway against his; he had died and gone to heaven.

"My princess." He whispered as the music ended.

Nicolo approached them and took her in his arms. "I'm so glad you could make it."

Her smile, he noted, did not quite reach her eyes. "I would have never missed your graduation party, Nico."

He smiled back at her, mostly to reassure her, but also, because he found Joe's daze quite amusing. Good thing, Lisha had not seen that yet. There was danger ahead.

Suddenly, Joe started to speak and Nico almost choked. "My princess, will…"

Clarisse turned swiftly to him and her expression made it quite clear that she was not in the mood. "No, I will not."

With that she turned on her heel and left the party.

Nicolo was the only one, who ever heard the tale behind that day – the sudden flare of something completely unexplainable, when she had seen her prince and his girlfriend at the beach that afternoon.

Back then she was unable to put a name to that feeling and then, when she had had met her father, the information he gave her had so completely taken over her mind that she was able to put the uneasy feeling into the far recesses of her mind.

It had taken years until she was able to see the feeling of that day for what it was. And then it had been too late.

Clarisse shivered. It had taken her so long. So long until she had been able to put a name to that feeling of that afternoon. So long until she knew where it came from. The bad thing was that it had taken many years more until she had been able to act on it. Sometimes she had felt incredibly guilty. Sometimes she had felt incredibly sad.

So many years… so many years lost…

It was odd, despite having lived on this estate for all 18 years of his life; he had never been inside her room. For the son of a servant it wouldn't have been proper. The baron would have had a fit. He would have fit if they caught him tonight too. However, since he would leave tomorrow, he had to risk it.

"Rissie?"

"Joseph, what are you doing here?" her voice was a shocked whisper that came from the bay window. Obviously she had not been able to sleep either. Had she already heard?

"I've come to talk to you, before…"

She stood up from her seat and turned to face the window. "You'll leave for Spain tomorrow." Her voice sounded oddly detached.

"Yes. I…" suddenly he didn't know what to say anymore. His thoughts were so stupid all of a sudden. She was rich, a baroness of royal blood and he merely a servant's son with barely a handful of Gen D'ors to his name and a small scholarship. They had played together as children, but that was long ago. What had he been thinking?

"I wanted to say goodbye and to…" he broke up and stared into her face. That beautiful, angelic face that kept haunting his dreams. He didn't know why, he couldn't call it love, because how could it be? Yet…

"I wanted to ask you to come with me." He choked out. "I know, I can't offer you anything. Not the life you are used to and all that," he rambled on, "but you know, I just…"

He saw her swallowing and lowering her head as if she had to stall for time to find the right words. Squeezing his eyes shut, he braced himself mentally for what was to come.

"Joseph, I…"

"No. No. Don't say a word. I understand. It was a stupid…" He quickly took a step backwards, trying to escape her room and her gaze before he could make an even bigger idiot of himself.

She followed him, putting a hand on his arm to stop him. Stepping even closer, the fingertips of her left hand traced his cheek. "Joseph, no." A few tears were running down her face reflecting in the moonlight that shone into the room. "I can't. My duty lies elsewhere."

"Duty? Duty?" he asked incredulously.

She sighed. "Yes, duty. Tomorrow, the prime minister will announce my upcoming marriage to Prince Rupert. We'll get married in six weeks."

A punch in the face could not have had a more painful impact.

"You are in love with the crown prince?" His question was barely audible.

She lowered her head. "I'm going to be a good wife to him and a good mother to his children. And I'm going to be a good queen."

That was no answer to his question, but his brain was in a deep freeze. His entire system shaking with rage and disappointment, he turned on his heel and all but ran out of the room.

All of a sudden, the air was too thick for her. She couldn't breathe. Oh god, how often had this particular memory haunted her sleep. It was a nightmare. Every time, she had had that dream, she had woken up with tears spilling over her cheeks, her body drenched in cold sweat and her heart beating like a trip hammer. So many times had she wished that the night had unfolded differently? Yet, back then, she had not known any different.

She had not known, not imagined, how life would unfold. How much it would change – her, him, everything.

It was the nightmare of her existence. Just like the other was her gravestone.

What do you think? Worth to show more? Liked it? Hated it? Bored? Interested? Leave me a little note please. Thank you