A/N: Here we are again. Years are passing and Joe and the queen are thrown together...unwillingly and? Please, read on and enjoy. Thanks...
Part 4
He was running around the palace like a madman and in a way, he believed he was. He had failed. Failed his job, failed his king, failed his queen.
He should have known better, should have seen it in advance. It was his job to protect the crown, to step in when somebody toyed with the crown's emotions. Even if it was the king himself.
The king had been taken to the hospital a few minutes ago, he was almost comatose after his fit and even though Joseph was worried about his monarch, whom he had grown to like over the last six years, he was more worried about Clarisse.
Of course, everybody in the immediate vicinity of the royal couple had known this day would come, dreaded it every day too, but nothing could have prepared them for the moment it finally happened.
The consequences were not imaginable yet. What would happen to the country? Philippe would have to take over fulltime soon, yet he wasn't completely prepared. It had happened so unexpected, despite their knowledge that those anger fits would grow more violent as the king's illness progressed.
Yet not even the king himself had been prepared for today and Clarisse had to suffer from it.
Clarisse.
Joseph quickened his step. He had to find her and soon. On top of the disaster, the sky looked ominously purple and black. They were in for heavy weather, probably a violent thunderstorm. It would not do for her to be out in the open during this.
Actually, in her condition it would not do for her to be alone anywhere. Reaching the stables, he quickly mounted a brown mare, mentally hatching a plan how to reach her favourite secret spots in the quickest fashion.
--
The wind had picked up noticeably, flapping the silk material of her blouse and jacket against her cold skin. What had possessed her to ride to the pond and step into it, she didn't know. Only that she had felt that the cold water would cool down the complete turmoil in her mind.
Oh God, why did this happen? Why did it have to happen?
It had been a rather stupid idea to wade into the pond, yet she had not seen any other relief for her body to calm down from its overdrive. If this was only the beginning...
Half of her face still stung where his palm had connected with her tender skin. If she were to check her arms, there would probably be forming bruises by now. The same would be said for her right leg, when she fell on it from the force of the blow.
She did not look. There was no sense in doing so and increasing her anger.
He had not meant anything of what had happened. She knew, he would never deliberately hurt her. It was the illness that was progressing too quickly now. The doctors had left no doubt about it: once it came to this stage, there would neither be a cure, nor anything that slowed the disease down. Rupert would be weakening rapidly now.
They had to prepare for the day, when it was completely up to Philippe to run Genovia. Only Philippe was not prepared. Nobody was. The only person remotely able to take over now was she.
Clarisse felt her throat constrict. The bruises would diminish soon, but the responsibility, the duty would grow out of epic proportion.
The thought of what she had to do, drove tears to her eyes. All those tasks: the day to day business, the planning, the representation, the visits, the people – how was she supposed to juggle all this? All in addition to taking care of her ailing husband and supporting and teaching their son? The tears were now streaming down her face, mixing with the rain that was pounding onto the ground.
Still standing up to her knees in the pond, her hair, her clothes soaking wet, she felt like the last person on earth, forced to hold it together with only her hands. She would have liked to scream to get rid of this pressure, scream to relieve the pain in her heart and in her mind. Scream for the utter unfairness of it all. Simply scream, because she knew no way out.
All of a sudden, she felt a hand grabbing her arm and pull her out of the pond. During the first seconds she was too shocked to react in any way, but as she felt herself being dragged further from the shore her shock turned into rage and fear. With almost superhuman effort she tried to break the grip of that person, whose face was hidden by the rain. However, even though she could not see this person clearly, she knew who it was. There was just something in his aura that gave him away.
She did not know what it was exactly. The tingling feeling that spread over her skin, when he touched her – usually by accident of course. Certainly not. That would mean that she was attracted to him and was unfathomable. Maybe it was the piercing gaze of his dark eyes, when they rested upon her. She had feared this gaze in the beginning of his work here. It was cold and businesslike, seizing her up, measuring her up against his standards and usually giving her the feeling that she fell short in his eyes.
She had learned to ignore it over the last six years. At least, she hoped she learned. Yet, judging from her current reaction to his nearness – No, she had not.
He sent the horses off with a strike on their sides, they knew where they belonged and would find their way to the stables. If the weather turned any worse, it would not be a good idea to ride anyway. Besides, they needed the time now and for what they had to do, he had to make sure that she could not escape him.
Taking shelter under the broad oak tree, he leant her against the trunk and gave her the once over. He winced at the visible handprint on her cheek that had become so hideously red against her paleness. Even more so, however, he cringed at the defeat in her stance. Her shoulders were slumped; the usual poise of her posture had disappeared. At this particular moment she looked old, older than she would probably ever become. Old, defeated and alone.
The thought came unbidden and turned quickly into another even more painful one. She was his queen – beloved and admired by the entire country and half of the world, yet when it really counted, she was alone. There were so many things she had to handle now and there was nobody she could confide in…nob…
"Why are you doing this?" Her voice sounded tired, but he could discern a good measure of anger behind her words.
Why did he do this, indeed?
"We have heavy weather forecast, your majesty. It is my duty to make sure that you are safe and well."
"Sod duty. Sod my welfare and safety. It doesn't matter."
He had almost expected this reaction, still it stung. Didn't she know that there was much more than his duty at work here. That despite all his promises to himself, all his heroic efforts to hate her or, even better, be indifferent to her, she was on his mind all the time. That he was deliberately taking jobs that bring him in her vicinity. That he was watching her every move to fill his mind with her. That his dreams often consisted of her smile and her laugh – that memories of childhood intermixed with visions of the future, where her smiles were for him alone?
No she could not know, she must not know.
Yet he had to make her listen to him. If he put it down to his duty, she would never see reason. Her stubborn streak was rearing its head and he knew from experience that she would not listen to anything businesslike. Judging from her stance, he had to bring out the big guns.
"My princess…"
They both flinched at his use of the old endearment.
"The princess is dead. She died, when her prince abandoned her." She took a deep breath.
All of a sudden, the scream that had been building in her body for some time, swelled in power. It started deep in her stomach, burning like bile, then travelled quickly up to her lungs, spreading its wings, blasted through her throat and finally tore out of her mouth with a force that frightened herself.
"THE PRINCESS IS DEAD! THERE IS NO PRINCESS ANYMORE!"
If it had not been for the lightening and immediately following thunder, he might have been deaf now. He stared at her in shock, at her wild eyes, her shaking body that he could barely hold up, her scream still ringing in his ears and for the first time in their 51 years of acquaintance he was afraid.
The madness and anger in her eyes changed suddenly to shock and fear, when she realized what she had done, how much she had revealed of herself.
Joseph traced a finger along her jaw, over her cheek, traced the shape of her nose, her eyebrows and her forehead and finally cupped her cheek. "Why?"
"Because you left her to die." Her voice sounded dead now, monotonous. "The princess needed her prince to go on and he disappeared, left her, abandoned her. When she needed him most, he was not there and so she had to make do and a little bit of her died every day."
He closed his eyes. He could not face her, when her words cut him like this. Her tone was not accusing. She spoke as if she merely told him a story. Maybe it was because of this that he felt as if…
"And finally the day came, when the princess made her last effort and went to a party, hoping to meet all her friends and find herself again in the process."
"Clar..…"
"But at the party, she realized that she had no friends anymore. And so her last hope was her prince, but all he had left for her was disgust." Clarisse swallowed heavily once, then again. "Disgust and hatred."
"No, no…" he was desperate now. Yes, he had been angry back then, disgusted even, but not with her, never with her. It was her position that set him off and the childish comment of her son. Her son who unconsciously made the jealousy rise up again.
He wanted to tell her that, wanted to assure her that he could never be disgusted with her, that his aloof behaviour was no more than a desperate attempt to protect himself from the never-ending fantasies, but she stopped him, before he could utter a word.
"So the princess realized that she had made way for another – a queen. And in the queen's life, there was no place for the princess. The queen could not have a prince, so she looked for her king and let the princess die."
The tears were streaming down her face again; mixing with the raindrops that splashed heavily through the leaves of the tree they had taken refuge under. Lightning and thunder were still rumbling through the sky, infrequently lighting up the dark world.
In those moments she was able to catch a good glimpse of his face. He looked haggard, weary and so worried. Yet his eyes were on her face as piercing as ever. His finger was still drawing invisible patterns on her face, as he seemed to work through a decision he had to make.
Without warning he pulled her into his arms holding her pressed tightly against his body.
Clarisse stiffened at first, not being used to such close physical proximity to anybody anymore, then relaxed into his embrace. Despite the wetness of his clothes, his body was warming her to her core. Her face pressed against his chest, while his arms held her cradled against his body and his hands stroked soothingly up and down her spine, the world was suddenly a warm and safe place.
"If the princess had to make way for the queen and can no longer reach out to her prince, then a knight will step up to protect and support his queen." He pushed her back a little to look into her eyes, but kept his arms firmly locked around her body. "So, my queen, fear not, for your knight will always be at your side. Always and through anything. Until one day, he has earned the right to see more than his queen…"
As if to seal his promise, Joseph leaned forward and tenderly brushed his lips over hers. "Until one day he has earned the right to see Clarisse."
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Clarisse awkwardly stepped from one foot to the other. She should have taken the second to slip her shoes on. But they were clothes and clothes were just too much this morning.
But now, her feet were cold. Actually, her entire body started to feel a bit chilly. How long had she been standing there already? Lost in her thoughts, while her eyes drank in the tranquil and blissful scene before her. Her knight was lying in her bed, naked and sleeping the sleep of the exhausted. A saucy grin settled on her face… oh she had tired him out already. Maybe the trashy romance novels she had secretly devoured as a teenager had helped along? And maybe the shiver travelling up and down her body underneath the silk robe was not from the chill, but…
Still, her feet were cold, much like that April afternoon nine years ago. Everything had seemed cold that day – cold, almost frozen. Except for that tingle of warmth his lips had left on hers and the patches of heat, his hands had left on her skin, where he had held her securely.
So bleak the world had seemed that day. If she had known the horrors and hardships still to come, she might have run and flung herself off the cliff that marked the border of the palace grounds. But amongst all the bleakness of that day, there had been something else:
Hope.
And a knight…
Well...what do you think now? Please, please leave me a little review to tell me...after all, reviews are my only reward and how shall i know if I'm not wasting your time, if you don't tell me...grin