"Charlotte?"

The assistant was startled by the voice, not just because she had thought she was alone, but also because of whom it belonged to.

"Your majesty? Is something wrong?" she asked, turning round to face the other woman.

Clarisse moved to join the younger woman by the far wall of the balcony, "That's what I was going to ask you. I saw you leave the party in a bit of a hurry."

"I'm sorry, I'm fine. You should be enjoying your party."

"I can't if I know you're not enjoying it too. Won't you tell me what has upset you?" Clarisse had expected to find Charlotte crying or at least tearful, but in fact she seemed to show no emotion at all. She was clearly upset, but that was only evident by the absence of her usual bright smile.

She shook her head, "No, I can't."

The queen looked down, "Is it something to do with Pierre?" She looked back up for a reaction and saw that Charlotte's eyes had widened with shock. "I'm sorry; I should have told you he was coming. I know it's hard for you."

"Why do you think it's hard for me?" Charlotte asked, trying her best to hide her surprise, hoping the queen hadn't noticed, but knowing that she had.

"I may be the queen and I may be considered somewhat aloof, but you're like a daughter to me, Charlotte. I always wanted a daughter and I hope, had I been blessed with one, she would have been just like you," Clarisse began, in an unusually raw moment, "I knew about you and Pierre all those years ago. I saw the look in his eyes when you fell into his lap at Philippe's twenty-fifth and the way you got on after your trip to Paris. Then I saw you, on this very balcony, the night of Philippe's thirtieth." Clarisse's speech tipped Charlotte over the edge and she was overcome with tears. All the years of bottled up emotions came tumbling out, causing her legs to give way beneath her. Clarisse caught her before she hit the ground, guiding her inside to a sofa where she held her until the sobbing subsided.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" Charlotte hiccupped eventually.

Clarisse sighed, "I wanted to. Problem was I also knew he wanted to refuse the throne and be a priest. So many times I wanted to clunk your heads together to make you come to your senses, but I couldn't. I trusted Pierre to do the right thing by you, by his country, for himself. I thought maybe if I told you what I knew, I'd lose you both."

"How?"

"Pierre would never forgive me for interfering and I really did trust him. I wanted him to be happy, no matter what that meant. And you, of course."

Charlotte nodded, "We were both grown-ups. We knew what we were doing."

"I think he always prayed you would still want him when he finished his training, but he didn't want to expect anything. It would have been a big thing to ask of you, to wait. He decided to make a clean break. You do know that leaving you was the hardest thing he ever had to do? Harder, even, than deciding not to become king."

"Losing him was…" she stopped, shaking her head, "One more thing to add to the list."

"List?"

"My mum, my dad…Luke," she listed, quietly, almost to herself.

"Luke?"

Charlotte snapped back to reality, wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks, "Oh, nothing. Shouldn't you be getting back to Joseph?"

"Joseph can cope without me. I want to make sure you are okay."

"I promise you, I'm fine. Usually, I know he's going to be around and I avoid him. Seeing him so suddenly like that was just a bit of a shock. It brought back a lot of memories."

O>

Charlotte carefully picked her way through the leaves and twigs that were scattered over the ground, wishing she had picked more practical shoes to wear. Suddenly, she felt herself being lifted off of the ground. She screamed with laughter as a pair of strong arms held her close and their owner began running.

"My lady," Pierre said, finally setting her down on a blanket. She kept her arms round his neck, pulling him down towards her for a kiss. He broke away lying down next to her.

"This is nice," she said, resting on her elbows and surveying the area. They were next to the river under a weeping willow tree, which obscured them completely all round, apart from the small separation which allowed a view of the water. It looked like it had been specially designed as a hideaway.

"I come down here a lot. It's so peaceful and nobody ever disturbs me," he told her.

"But now you've told me about it," she said, turning to lean on one elbow, facing him, "I might come and disturb you."

"My darling," he began, wiping a strand of hair away from her face, "You can disturb me anytime you like."

"I'll hold you to that," she promised, resting her head on his chest. They lay together in comfortable silence for a few moments, just enjoying the moment.

"Charlotte?" he said after a while.

"Mmm," she replied sleepily.

"There's something I've been wondering for a while, but you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"What is it?" she asked, lifting her head back up. He rolled over onto his side so that they were at the same level.

"When we were in Paris, you said that you used to visit with your dad, but that you stopped going. Why?" She sighed and lay flat on her back, running a hand over her face. "If it's too painful…"

"He died," she whispered, cutting him off. She looked over at him before continuing, "Because my mum wasn't around, my dad and I were really close. He was my best friend and the best dad in the world. We didn't have very much of anything, but we had each other and that was enough. He met my mum in Paris when they were students and he said going back helped him feel close to her. He wanted me to feel close to her too."

"Did you?" he asked when she stopped.

She shrugged, "I love her for the person I know she was, but I never knew her." She reflected on this for a while. Pierre did not push, letting her start again when she felt ready. "Anyway, when I was fourteen he was diagnosed with cancer. There was no-one else, so I nursed him for two years. Not that I resented it or anything, he was my dad, I would have done anything for him. Before we went there, the last time I had been to Paris was two weeks before he died. He wanted to go back one final time."

"I'm so sorry. I had no idea," he said, gently.

She forced a small smile, "No, it's fine. It's the kind of thing you ought to know. And it was a long time ago now. I think it's why I've never been very good at making friends though. I missed out on having friends as a teenager, you know, first dedicating so much time to my dad and then having to work so hard to catch up at school and college. The hard work was worth it though. I ended up here."

"Where you met a kind and handsome prince who swept you off your feet," he added, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, but unfortunately he had to go and I ended up with you," she grinned. Her father's death had hit her hard and she still missed him, but life went on and Pierre made her particular life very happy.

"I love you, Charlotte," Pierre said suddenly, causing her to turn her attention back to him.

She stroked his cheek and leaned upwards to catch his lips in a brief kiss, her grin widening, "I love you too."