A short chapter, but a nice moment beteween Clarisse and Joseph.

Worlds Apart

Chapter 11

Clarisse gently placed the small bouquet of flowers at the base of the large monument and took a step back. It had been just over a year since Rupert's death- a year of changes she could have never foreseen. A chill breeze swept across the hill and the rust and gold silk scarf, her only concession to color in her dress, fluttered at her throat.

Several yards away lay the tomb of her only son. Not as large or grand as that of his father's, Philippe's was of lighter colored material and lacked the spire with a crown at the top. Clarisse slowly crossed to stand before it. With the coming of spring, there would be grass sprouting to green the area; for now, it was surrounded by bare earth.

Hesitantly, she touched the cold marble. Only three months gone, Philippe's death was still a painful scar on her heart. Had it not been for her subjects, the people of Genovia who depended on her, she might well have given up. Instead, Clarisse had become stronger, grieving in private and serving her people with renewed resolve. They needed her and she, in turn, needed them.

She knelt, laying the second bunch of hothouse flowers underneath the plaque bearing his name. She was leaving that morning for San Francisco to see Philippe's daughter, her granddaughter. It was time Amelia knew.

Drawing a deep breath, she moved away. Two miles in the distance, the Mediterranean Sea shimmered in the early morning light. Three months ago she had not believed that the sun would actually rise the next day…but it had and she had come to rely on each sunrise as a reminder that life went on.

Like the constancy of every new dawn, she had also come to rely on Joseph's strength. He had watched over her with a gentleness and compassion she had not expected. Even now, without turning around, she knew he was there and that she would never come to harm when he was near.

On Christmas Eve, a subdued affair in light of Philippe's death, he'd found her sitting in the darkness, staring at the traditional family tree the palace servants had erected, holding a small decoration that Philippe had made as a child. Joseph had given her his handkerchief and waited, ensuring that no one intruded on her grief, allowing her time to mourn. Without a word, he'd escorted her to her apartment through the hallway cleared of staff, and had lingered in her sitting room until he was sure she slept before retiring to his room downstairs.

The breeze stirred the bare branches of the pear trees surrounding the royal cemetery and she pulled the top of her wool coat closed. Soon, the limbs would be covered in white blossoms; later, there would be fruit and another harvest would commence.

Life went on.

Clarisse said her goodbyes and turned away.

"I am ready, Joseph," she said. He stepped from the shadows.

"If you wish more time, Your Majesty, I will notify the airport," he offered, coming to her side. "Leaving later in the daywould not be a problem, at all."

"No, there is work to be done and I must be about my it," she replied walking purposefully toward the car.

Joseph said nothing. In the weeks following Philippe's death, she had turned her grief toward her duties, immersing herself in affairs of the country and had kept up a schedule that filled every moment of her day with work. He had been concerned she would exhaust herself to the point of collapsing and had urged her secretary to ease Clarisse's schedule as much as possible.

"It will be wonderful to see Amelia and to spend time with her," Clarisse said, a smile touching her lips. "This trip will be good for me."

"How do you think the princess will take the news?" he asked, clasping his hand behind his back as he walked beside her.

"How any young woman would when she found out she is royalty- she'll be thrilled."

Again, Joseph was silent. The queen stopped and looked at him, her hands folded at her waist.

"You think she may not?" She had come to value his opinion and knew he would always be truthful. He would even disagree with her, which was something many were hesitant to do.

"I wonder if Princess Amelia might find it…difficult to come to terms with a new life," he answered slowly. "It will be quite a change for her, Your Majesty."

"Yes, but she will be a princess, Joseph! She will have advantages most young women never dream of!"

"Perhaps." She was walking again, more slowly than before, and he followed.

"But…?" Clarisse prompted.

Joseph chose his words carefully. "Dreaming of the life a princess leads and actually living it are two very different things."

This time it was Queen Clarisse who was silent. They reached the car and stood close, facing each other.

"Do you think she might actually refuse?" Clarisse asked, watching him intently.

"It is a possibility just as is her accepting. Does the princess have any idea of her heritage?"

Clarisse shook her head. "No, none at all. We agreed to keep it from her to allow her a normal childhood. Philippe was going to tell her when she became of age, but, of course, now…"

A look of concern and doubt crossed her face. It was an expression she rarely permitted anyone to see. Since planning the trip to see her granddaughter, color had returned to her cheeks and he'd seen new life in her. While he agreed the trip would be good for Clarisse, he was concerned; Joseph hoped she was not going to be disappointed.

"Your Majesty, you can only be truthful. Beyond that…"

"It will be her choice," she finished flatly.

"Yes, it will be her choice."

"And…if she refuses?" There was fear in her voice. Was Clarisse worried about Amelia's acceptance of her after such a long absence?

"She will still be your granddaughter," he answered firmly. "Family cannot be discarded." He brushed aside the thought that his father had done exactly that to him.

"Yes, of course, you are right," she said, the insecurity gone. She smiled and spoke briskly. "We should be on our way."

Acknowledging her order, Joseph dipped his head and helped her into the car. Just as he was about to start the motor, she spoke.

"Joseph?"

His hand stilled. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"I…I appreciate your candor and your help. I think I would be quite lost without you."

It was a moment before he could reply. "I am always at your service, my queen."

They rode in silence to the airport.