Part 6 by Posh and Stoneygem
Charlotte, of course was one of the first to notice the change. Entering her majesty's office, she almost walked back out again at the sight of the forlorn woman sitting at the desk. And she was – Charlotte gasped mentally – she was wearing black again. Clarisse looked up and greeted the aide with a half smile that didn't remotely reach her eyes.
"Uhm, your Majesty, are you feeling unwell?" Charlotte carefully enquired.
The other woman only raised her head, nodded shortly and bent down again to pour over yet another trade agreement.
Charlotte had given almost everything for the chance to enquire further, but at this moment the phone rang. The call came from Genovia's liaison in Brussels and from experience the younger woman knew that this particular conversation could take up hours and leave their former queen in a rather foul mood on the best of days. Today, however, there was no telling where it could lead.
Quickly bowing out, Charlotte went to order some tea for her Majesty and then off to find Shades. By an unspoken agreement the two of them working closest with the couple had become confidantes.
"Black, Shades. She was wearing black! She has not worn a single piece of black since that day in San Francisco."
The Head of Security frowned. His former boss was not easy to get along with these days either. Most of the time, he was distracted, but if somebody tipped him, he went off like a demon. And then there were those frequent trips into town. He didn't tell anybody where he was going and nobody had found out yet. Unless, one counted the fact that Joseph had been seen with a young woman in her early 30s yesterday. They had just met and talked for a few minutes on the street and it looked quite business-like, but still…
For Joseph not to react to the fact that his wife was no longer smiling. That was such an unfathomable concept, Shades couldn't believe it. Underneath, his gruff exterior he cared very much for the couple. Loved and admired his former queen and almost hero-worshipped his former superior.
To see, how they had gone from their former supreme happiness that could not be shadowed by anything to this.
Charlotte's voice broke him out of his reverie. "Do you know where he is? I haven't seen him all morning."
Shades shrugged. "He has not left the grounds today. And nobody has seen him leaving the palace itself. It is pouring out there after all."
The woman nodded. "Very well, I'll go find him."
"What for?"
"I've had enough of this. I'm going to confront him."
"Charlotte, do you think…Charlotte!" But she was gone already.
Wandering quickly through the vast system of halls, Charlotte contemplated where she could actually find Joseph. The man knew the palace like the back of his hand. If there was a place to hide in, he would know about it. Rounding a corner, she caught a glimpse of something black and from the size of it, a human. Walking quickly to the spot, she frowned when she saw the rounded staircase that led towards the secret room beside the parliament's chamber.
Her curiosity piqued, she followed the steps and after a few moments found herself at the open door of the hidden orthodox chapel. What shocked her however, was the man who stood in front of the altar, deep in prayer.
Sometimes she loathed this job. Even more so she sometimes loathed the people she had to deal with in the course of the job. Their liaison in Brussels certainly was on top of that list. That man aggravated her to no end. He was supposed to support Genovia's affairs at the Union, but sometimes she had the distinct feeling he worked against them.
Well, next time she talked to Mia, she would ask her to see into it when she made station in Brussels. Being addressed during the Queen's official visit would hopefully put the man in his place.
Clarisse sighed. She missed her granddaughter. With her the last cheerfulness seemed to be gone from the palace. Now everything was only gloomy and depressed. Just like her. Stepping up to the window again and staring out into the rain, she reflected that here it had begun. Here she had realized that their sex life had come to a complete stop. Here she had decided to put on a fight for it.
Funny, she would have never thought that this would be the beginning of the end. Back then – Gods, had it been merely two weeks ago? – she had only been worried about the physical intimacy. Now she had to realize that any intimacy was gone. They barely spoke, they never touched – at least not awake. The only times, when they still seemed to have a connection was at night. When the lights were out, they would move into each other's arms and sleep in a tender embrace. No words spoken, none needed. Then she knew that he still loved her. Then she could hope that they could make it. But when morning came…
Wiping her eyes furiously, Clarisse heaved a deep sigh. It wouldn't do to cry. The staff already suspected something. They already looked at her as if they had lost hope, as if she had given up. But they were wrong. Clarisse Renaldi never gave up. And Clarisse Renaldi Romerro would certainly not give up on her marriage. Not on this gift life had given her.
She would never give Joseph up.
Ever.
Love worked in mysterious ways, the archbishop had told her during the wedding reception. Mysterious, but sometimes very obvious, at least to the onlookers, he had added with a smile.
She remembered that she and Joseph had both blushed and smiled and then, when she had looked into his eyes, the feeling of utter completeness and love had brought tears to her eyes. She could still feel his thumbs wiping them away so tenderly and his lips only grazing hers. Yet, it had been the most powerful moment of love.
Closing her eyes, Clarisse felt herself smile for the first time in days.
It was a good thing the rain was so heavy today. Joseph had not been able to go out. She just had to find him, take him into her arms, tell him that she loved him and that everything would be all right. Then she would take him by the hand and lead him to a private room where they could be really alone and then they would talk. She would tell him about things, she tended to hide and she would ask him to tell her, what was bothering him. But most of all, she would tell him that she loved him and nobody was more important than him.
Nodding encouragingly to herself, Clarisse turned on her heel and went in search of her husband.
Clarisse had paced the palace for the past forty-five minutes, of all places she never expected to find herself at the Chapel. Hardly anybody visited it in the day, certainly not during the week. Yet as she passed the slightly ajar door she heard voices, hushed voices, but unmistakeable nevertheless.
Sneaking inside the door and sheltering behind a column she watched as Charlotte suddenly reached over and took hold of Joseph's hand, squeezing it. Clarisse stiffened, a chill creeping over her, she wasn't one for eavesdropping but right now her feet didn't seem to want to move, her legs had turned to jelly, she was rooted to the spot.
"This can't go on Joe, you know that."
"It won't be for much longer."
"But you can't leave her hanging… haven't you noticed, don't you see what's happening to her? She's wearing black for goodness sake."
He raised his head sharply, aware of the severity of the younger woman's words but not completely willing to actually process what it meant.
He sighed and shook his head. "A few more days or weeks, it will be over."
Clarisse clasped a hand over her mouth, 'over, it would be over?'
"This woman you've been spotted with…" Charlotte said.
"Anna."
"Do you think it wise to go on seeing her?"
"I have no choice, I have a duty… a responsibility to see this through."
"And what about your responsibility to your marriage, the vows were in sickness and health, not when you can be bothered."
"That's hardly fair Charlotte, you know how much I… trust me it's hurting me too, but I have no choice. I need to see this through. I don't wish to hurt her."
"I think you already have."
"It would hurt more if she knew the truth… this is for the best."
"I really think you should rethink your decision"
Unable to listen to anymore Clarisse shakily snuck back out of the Chapel, she clutched her stomach at the door and leant against the wall. Thank god the corridors were empty. Holding onto the wall for support she made her way back towards her suite.
She needed to get to her room, she needed… oh lord, he was having an affair, so soon, after all he'd said, he was… he'd promised so much, given so much, he loved her, and he could, all the things he'd said to her… all the things he'd whispered in the stillness of the room. His face inches from hers, his mouth on her skin…
She felt a wave of nausea wash over her, the ground gave way beneath her feet and blackness engulfed her mind.
Joseph leant over the bed and rested a hand to his wife's forehead. She'd been asleep for the past three hours after Olivia found her collapsed in the corridor just metres from her suite.
"She will be fine Joseph, let her rest."
He glanced back over his shoulder at the young woman packing her bag.
"It's my fault."
"She's overworked, tired, let her rest, force her to rest. I seem to be handing out similar advice to her husband."
Smiling he stepped forward he pressed a light kiss to the woman's forehead.
"I know, I am trying. Things aren't easy."
"Make them easy, it's only a few days now, you can get through this."
"Thank you Anna, for everything."
"You know you're welcome." She squeezed his hand and collected her things leaving the couple alone in the darkened room.
Moving to sit on the bed next to Clarisse Joseph swung his legs up and took her hand, smoothing her skin, feeling the wedding band beneath his grasp.
She stirred next to him, groaning and turning, her head encountering his chest. For a second she remained there, instinctively he reached an arm around her and stroked her back.
"Clarisse…" He whispered. "Are you awake?"
She groaned again, stretching an arm across his stomach and then suddenly pulling herself back and forcing her eyes open she coldly looked him over.
"How are you feeling?"
"Light-headed," her voice cracked. "What happened?"
"You fainted I believe, Doctor thinks exhaustion, overwork, and prescribes rest."
"My Doctor? Richard's on holiday."
"I know, not your Doctor, a friend of mine. Highly recommended."
She placed her hands on the bed and attempted to lift herself up.
"Hey stay there, no getting up for the rest of the day, I will wait on you."
"You have no important engagements?" She closed her eyes and rested her head back down on the pillow, dizziness sweeping over her at the sudden movement.
"None more important than my wife." He stroked her hair and gazed at her, how pale she looked, how fragile. Perhaps Charlotte was correct; perhaps he was going about this the wrong way – dragging out the inevitable.
"Do you need anything?"
"Not now." She may not have remembered falling, she certainly remembered his confession to Charlotte, right now it was only the constant feeling of falling and dizziness that prevented her from telling him what she really thought.
"Not thirsty at all?"
He was still touching her, she moved to escape it.
"I'm tired, I think I'll just sleep."
"All right, then I'll leave you for a while. I'll just be in the other room so call if you need anything. Anything at all…"
Clarisse slept well past two, both physical and emotional exhaustion taking over any coherent thoughts she had. When she woke her aching head had cleared and she felt strangely at ease. She rinsed her face in the bathroom, put on her dressing gown and made her way into the lounge in hopes of ordering Tea.
She didn't expect him to be there; in fact she hadn't even considered the possibility. All her hurt and embarrassment from earlier in the day flooded back and she hesitantly approached him.
The fire burned in the hearth and Joseph sat with his legs on the couch engrossed in some book. She watched as he leant over and reached for his Brandy glass taking a sip then replacing it on the table. Momentarily glancing up he saw her and smiled warmly.
"You're awake. How are you feeling?"
Her response should have been 'like somebody has ripped my heart out'. Instead she moved to the vacant chair murmuring, "Better."
He snapped his book shut and placed it on the armrest giving her his full attention. "You look much better, not so pale."
She glared at him through half open eyes. "So, when, and how, are you planning on doing it?"
"Doing what my dear?"
"Leaving me." She stated coldly.
Ha! Ha! The plot thickens...