A/N: Well, here we are again...with a new chapter and we are moving forward again...a few years into the future and? Enjoy reading.

"My Princess"
Part 3

She had to sit down at the memory. Even remembering that moment made her knees go weak. He was with her now, safe and unharmed, the scars of those injuries and many others only faint traces on his skin, but the fear was still there.

It had taken a long time until she realized that the fear for his safety was a constant part of her life. Only last night could she finally admit it – afterwards, when his body lay heavily on hers, her arms holding him tightly to prolong and intensify their connection.

Her admittance, his smile and kiss. His assurances and her tears. The frantic words of love that were murmured and finally drowned out by moans and gasps of pleasure.

How could she have ever thought that they would be over? How much of a lie had that been? One of the many she had made to herself. And only the beginning of a web of lies she had spun around herself…

------

He didn't know, why he was doing this. It was practically begging for trouble. Yet, on the other hand, it would have been simply stupid to refuse this offer – and stupid was one of the things Joe Romerro prided himself not to be. In all actuality, he also knew that a person of his background was not given many chances and therefore had to take every offered opportunity. And admittedly, there was no chance that he would rise to a higher position anytime soon.

From all pragmatic angles there was absolutely no reason not to take this offer.

He was barely 45 years old and they offered him the topmost position. Head of Security. And they paid so much money, not only to get him out of his former contract, but also to lure him into that position that he had actually blushed, when he saw the amount. It was ridiculous.

So, pragmatically seen, he simply could not have refused this offer. Yet, he had battled with himself for weeks before accepting it.

Taking this position, would mean to see her again.

He had decided almost 15 years ago that never seeing her again would still be too early. He simply could not deal with her. It was a coward's way out, he knew, but having her face imprinted in his memory was more than he could bear.

They had assured him that he would work mainly with the king and the crown prince. As a matter of fact they had even written it into his contract. Still, he battled with himself.

How and why he had finally accepted, he couldn't say, but here he was in his car driving onto the grounds of the royal palace.

In a few minutes, he would start as Royal Genovian Head of Security.

Heaven help him.

--

Rupert had hired a new chief of security and she didn't like it one bit. Of course, such were decisions which Rupert still made alone, despite his state of health. She could accept this and usually held her breath about some of his more questionable acts. However, hiring a new chief of security and then from outside made her uneasy. It was too important a position, too close to their personal and every day life, too close to their life to be given to just anyone.

Thus she had voiced her uneasiness to her husband. The result wasn't pretty and even now, two hours later, Clarisse still fought to regain her control. Rupert's anger fits that were part of his quickly progressing illness came always unexpected and always so forceful that it took her hours to calm down again. He had never hit her in one of those fits – yet. She hoped, it would never go that far. Rupert would not be able to bear that thought.

Maybe that was why he had hired a new security chief, to have somebody who could not only protect them against outside forces, but could also protect them from him.

Rupert's illness was of this nature, the doctors had been quite clear about that, and at some point she would have to face it. However, this point was not reached yet and Clarisse wanted to concentrate on the matters at hand.

Her birthday celebration had to be planned. If it had been up to her, she would have preferred not to celebrate at all. All this fuss about just one day of her life, where was the sense in it. Just this year, all she wanted to do on her birthday was to get up early, take a horse and ride into the hills to spend the day in solitude. She didn't know where this sudden depression came from. 46 was no age and she certainly looked at least five years younger, not at all like a grandmother. Yet the thought of her granddaughter having entered school this year suddenly made her feel old. What had she accomplished in her life. One son, who considered himself a failure, the other having to leave his wife and child to fulfil a duty. She herself was being noted for being pretty and kind. What an accomplishment.

Love was not on her list of accomplishments. Neither was passion. She had once, as a teenager, in the long boring hours at her boarding school, devoured romance novels that were filled with passion and lust, with devoted love. Men worshipping the women they adored emotionally and physically.

She had long ago given up to believe that this would ever happen to her. She never spoke about this of course, but from snatches of conversation during high society balls all over the world she had gathered that it could not happen, if a woman had only one man. Clarisse had to take their word for it. All she had ever done with any man except Rupert were a few chaste pecks on the lips. Her encounters with Rupert… well, it wasn't bad. He had always been careful and gentle with her, but passion? It had not happened. Not for her at least, if for him, she did not know.

And here she was, almost forty-six years old and feeling like a frustrated virgin, who didn't dare to get closer to the boys at the other end during the school dance. A virgin? In many ways, yes. In other ways, she was more like an old spinster. Never been kissed, never been excited.

It was quite frustrating. And now she had to greet the new head of security, who would arrive today to inspect his new position, before he'd start next Monday.

There was something about this man, which she just didn't like. It was a stranger, who would invade their personal space and she could only take so many people being in her immediate surroundings. A stranger, who could order her around citing security reasons to make her do, what he wanted. She didn't like to be told what she had to do. In addition, there was this obnoxious amount of money Rupert had paid to hire this man.

Clarisse shook her head as she quickly strode down the corridor towards the grand staircase. How could any man be worth that much money – to be paid to his last employer and to lure him to Genovia. No security man could be that good.

Entering the large ballroom from upstairs, she took a moment to stop and gather herself. Despite her misgivings, this man, whose name she didn't even know… Honestly, could it be anymore ridiculous? She was supposed to greet a man, whose name she didn't know and whom she didn't want to be hired in the first place. Still, Rupert had hired him to such a close and personal position. If they got off on the wrong foot, it would be even more unpleasant.

Straightening herself and nodding to Carl, Rupert's assistant, who had suddenly appeared out of thin air, she stepped properly into the ballroom. This new security man was already there, scanning the room. Very punctual, she noted with relief.

With his back turned to her, she could not see his face. Nevertheless, Clarisse found herself taking an inventory of the man, who would be guarding them in the future. He was not overly tall, she noted, with slightly dark skin, bald and all dressed in black. He did not seem very imposing on first sight, but there was a panther like grace about him and an air that clearly demanded: 'Handle with care!'

The man turned, having heard the clicks of her heels on the marble staircase, and looked directly at her.

Suddenly, air was lacking. She felt her breath rushing from her body. Her mind went completely numb. Her body didn't fare any better. She felt her knees buckle and gripped the railing for support.

--

Fifteen years. Fifteen bloody years!

All this time he had spent trying to forget her, trying to erase her from his heart and his memory and what had it done?

Nothing.

She was even more beautiful than he remembered her to be. Aging was kind to her, in fact it seemed as if every year did more to her beauty, filling her body, smoothing the contours of her face, adding dimension to her grace. She was beautiful, his princess.

Only, she was his princess no more.

No more.

The assistant's voice brought him back to reality, where she had descended the rounded staircase with that odd guy, Carl, at her heels. Her face was composed showing no emotion; even her eyes seemed to have shut down to hide her emotions.

He was too intent on her face, thus missing the introductions the king's assistant made.

Even though she extended her hand, her warm voice saying: "Mr. Romerro, welcome to the palace." There was no warmth for him in it. She could have greeted any other new employee.

The thought brought his anger into move again. He nodded curtly, doing no more of a bow than necessary. "Your majesty, you can rest assured that I will do my utmost to guarantee the king's and the prince's security."

He saw her start a little. Yes, not hers, her husband's and her son's. He would make sure of this. The last thing he needed was to be in any kind of personal contact with her. Better, she knew that right away.

He straightened his posture and fixed her with a cold stare. The shock clearly showed on her face. His behaviour certainly wasn't proper, he knew, and not what one expected from a newly employed top official, but had no intention of leaving his point of view in any doubt.

Turning on his heel, Joseph left the ballroom without any greeting.

Fifteen bloody years of not seeing her. Twenty-five of trying to get her out of his heart and all she had to do was pale under his gaze, swallow heavily as if to suppress some tears and he had to run. Run from the urge to apologize for behaving like a jerk, run from the urge to take her in his arms and comfort her, tell her that everything would be alright. He was still her prince and she his princess and that he would marry her one-day and protect….

Carl ran after him, trying to talk some sense into that new security. It would absolutely not do for the head of security to insult the queen. She wouldn't stand for it. Honestly, a man worth that much money should have better manners. Looking back at the queen, he only caught a glimpse of her face out of the corner of his eye. Yet, this image would stay with him for the rest of his life.

-----

Fifteen years had made this day into one of the funniest things in her life. How angry he had been with her. It seemed so utterly ridiculous how their opinions were the same. She didn't want him on the job, he didn't want the job. At least not the part that included guarding her.

Sometimes she wondered, why Rupert had done it. He had accepted Joseph's demand to be responsible only for the king and the crown prince, but only a month later, had assigned Joseph as her personal guard.

Fate worked mysteriously.

This morning now – their first morning as a married couple – she was so very grateful for what seemed to be a big blunder of Rupert's.

This morning she was grateful and didn't dare imagine, if it had been otherwise.

Well...what do you say about this? Please leave me a message. And thank you to all those of you who did the last time...