I'm back with an update because I couldn't leave them alone... as I expected :). Thank you for all your lovely reviews and I can only hope that this chapter will please you again. I forgot to say earlier, I do not own any of the characters I used in this fanfic and I don't money from this. I wish I were though!

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He peeked through the curtains one more time with the cell phone glued to his ear and he swore under his breath when again, the line was busy. He couldn't believe she left without telling anyone where she went and even worse, that Sam never reported their departure to him. That guy was in serious trouble, that much he swore to himself as he dialled the number again.

"Do you want coffee?" Charlotte's voice disturbed his pondering but he didn't look up, he simply shook his head as a silent answer because coffee was just about the last thing on his mind. When he felt her hand on his shoulder he frowned.

"I wouldn't worry if I were you," Charlotte said softly as she peeked through the window as well, "she hasn't been gone for that long and besides, she has a meeting with Mayor Brown first thing tomorrow so she won't stay out late. I'm sure they'll be back soon."

"I'm not worried, I'm doing my job," he answered bluntly and he hung up his phone with an angry gesture after one more failing attempt. "Dammit Sam, where the hell are you?"

"He took the Mercedes; I heard her Majesty say that she didn't want the limousine. They're probably taking a walk or something where there's no signal. Or Sam is calling his wife and her majesty…" When he turned around to frown at her she raised her hands in defense. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger!"

He clenched his jaw as he left his place at the window to rush to the main door, grabbing his jacket from the coat rack on his way out. "I'll be in touch, it's of no use to wait around here."

"Joe," Charlotte shouted and she came walking in his direction, touching her earpiece doing so. "Joseph!"

He stopped, holding on to the doorknob but he didn't bother to turn around. "What?"

"They're back."

He exhaled slowly when he heard the car pull up at the front of the house and reluctantly he stepped back, taking his position near the front door. Charlotte struck the same pose next to him and she smiled triumphantly at him. He didn't answer her gesture but simply pressed his lips together in annoyance. How was he supposed to work around here when nobody seemed to take things seriously? After a few seconds Charlie, the butler, went to open the door and he looked up, the elegant footsteps that were unmistakable hers crunched through the gravel as she made her way over.

"Good evening Charlie." Yes, the Queen had returned and, unlike him, she seemed to be in a good mood.

Her eyes immediately met his as she entered and he welcomed her; not smiling but nodding politely at her. She indeed looked better than she did this afternoon; at least she had a little colour on her cheeks and a smile curved her lips as she made her way through the living room. Her hair was even a little messy but it suited her.

"Good evening you majesty," Charlotte made a quick curtsey and approached her, probably to update her about pressing matters. Joseph didn't wait for this but left his spot to make his way out; Sam was probably parking the car and he had a few things coming from his superior.

"Joseph…"

For the second time in five minutes he stopped with the doorknob in his hand but this time he had to turn around and look at the person who called him.

"Ma'am?"

He raised a brow in surprise when she hesitated for a second, was he imagining things or did she seem nervous? She looked at him straight now. "Can I talk to you for a moment in my library?"

"Right now?" He didn't release his hand on the handle just yet.

She nodded. "Yes please."

With that she turned around and left the living room, her heels clicking at a fast pace along the smooth floor of the hallway. He still stood there, for a moment torn between the urge to scold his inferior and the obligation to follow her majesty's orders. Right now, with Charlotte and Charlie waiting for him to obey her wishes he had not much of a choice really.

As he made his way over to the privacy of her library he frowned, he couldn't deny that he was a bit surprised by her sudden invitation. It had been a long time since they had a true conversation and to be honest, he doubted if one would follow shortly. All they seem to discuss lately was work related, however the unspoken words sounded louder in his head each time they met. Something had changed somewhere between the sudden death of the King and where they were now.

If there was one characteristic Queen Clarisse had made uniquely hers it was that little personal touch in all her contacts. Everybody, whether it was the Prime Minister or the maid who made her bed, felt as if they had a personal connection with her simply because she reached out to them in her unique way. She knew the names of the children of the entire Royal Guard, she was aware of the troubles that Charlotte went through after her divorce and she would always, always ask Charlie how his wife was doing ever since her father passed away 6 months ago.

She was loved for her remarkable personal attention and if he were completely honest, he felt that he in particular had been given the privilege to know just a tad more about the woman behind the Queen. He had always felt that he was the only one she could frown at, who she could rant to, who she could blow off steam to and he loved to be in that special position. At least, that was how it used to be. Lately, her eyes that were once so warm, sparkling and alive seemed to be colder and emptier, keeping him and everybody else at a distance with all her strength and it confused him to know that he couldn't reach her anymore. They only discussed business these days, especially now she assigned him to look out for the safety of young Princess Mia and somehow he couldn't help but wondering why she made that decision. He wondered if she chose for this assignment because he was the best man for the job or because it suited her majesty's wish to be left alone. He couldn't put his finger on it but the ease of which they used to communicate was gone. Lately, he felt as if he was imposing on her privacy when he approached her and that thought unsettled him and made him feel uncomfortable. All there was left was tension really. Tension that neither he, nor anybody else could alleviate.

Her door was closed when he stepped around the corner and he knocked gently before he entered, waiting impatiently for her sign of approval. He found her standing behind her desk, going through a fresh stack of papers with an annoyed frown on her face and she looked up when he approached her. She glanced at him over the rim of her reading glasses and for a second he hoped to see a glimpse of the Clarisse he once knew so well. He knew this part of her was hidden behind that cold exterior and it hurt to know that she wouldn't allow him to encounter that again. He smiled briefly; waiting for her to speak and when she did after a short pause her tone was gentle and asking for understanding.

"Please don't be too harsh on Sam, he followed my orders."

He answered her just as soft and discrete. "Ma'am, with all do respect – I'd rather be informed next time when you decide to go out. It's my job to…"

"I know," she interrupted him and as in an assurance she reached out over her desk and placed her hand on his arm, her touch steady and warm. "But this was an exception." Her fingers seemed to embrace his arm, the warmth of her touch reached his skin through the cotton layer of his shirt and as wonderful as it felt, he pulled away from it and he cleared his throat doing so. Why he did it he wouldn't be able to explain, it was merely a useless attempt to keep things straight in his head. Avoiding her gaze, he didn't notice the glimpse of insecurity in her eyes when she realized that he was avoiding physical contact with her, neither did he feel that this little gesture caused her to put her wall back up.

He could only reluctantly respect her wishes regarding Sam, although deep down he felt the urge to swear loud and uncontrolled. Truth was that he had been worried to death about her ever since he found out that she had left the house late this afternoon. Something inside the blue depth of her eyes concerned him and he couldn't help watching her more than usual. Then for her to leave at an unexpected moment caused all kinds of wild assumptions and worried thoughts inside him. If it were anybody else he would have resigned right there but yet, as he watched her, he felt his anger slip away and all that was left was gratitude that she was safe.

"Did you enjoy yourself today?" he suddenly asked and gave her an inquiring look that she felt in her stomach. He was reading her again she realized and in response she took off her glasses.

"Yes it was… interesting. Joseph, I…we…" He raised a brow when she couldn't seem to finish her sentence because it was surprising to say the least. If there was anything Clarisse Renaldi never lacked it was fitting words for every occasion.

He couldn't even begin to imagine that right in front of him, the Queen of Genovia was reconsidering every letter of every word that she had rehearsed on her way home. Only an hour ago on the beach the whole world seemed to make perfect sense and now, as much as she tried to find her way back mentally, she couldn't seem to get a grip on her emotions. "It is that easy, believe me". She shook her head unintentionally in disagreement, it wasn't easy at all.

"You majesty?"

She stammered over her words and she scolded herself for it, this was so unlike her that it annoyed her. "What…time will Amelia be here for her dancing lessons tomorrow? You're still willing to teach her I assume?"

He didn't seem to catch her confused state of mind. "Sure, I said I would and I will. She'll have dinner here so you can teach her how to eat a salad proper remember? I planned on that?"

"Fine, thank you."

"Sure."

She heaved a sigh of frustration and silence fell upon the room again, the clock ruthlessly ticking away the awkward seconds. He simply waited for her to speak or end this conversation, he always did, and it's what everybody always did. She realized that this behaviour was a perfect example of good manners and etiquette that she always spoke so highly of. Nonetheless she wished he would break the wall of propriety between them and speak to her like an equal, yet she realized that neither this, nor any other outcome of it, would ever happen. Not unless she allowed him to.

After a little hesitation she spoke again, putting her hair back behind her ear before she crossed her arms. "Joseph, how long have we known each other?"

He smiled and echoed her pose, crossing his arms as well. "This fall it will be 22 years if I'm not mistaken."

She smiled too, tilting her head to gaze at the high ceiling of the library. "That's quite a while, isn't it?"

"Yes I would say so, I think that I lost every hair on my head in your presence," he chuckled and ran a hand over his smooth skin, relieved to see that she couldn't suppress a deep low laugh either. He loved that sound.

"And you pretty much witnessed the origin of every line around my eyes," she grinned, giving him a sideward glance.

His eyes twinkled as he nodded tentatively. "Few as there are."

She blushed slightly at his subtle compliment and then, after she took a deep breath, she found herself saying the words she had been repeating over and over in her car ride home. Now was just about as good a time as any.

"And yet, after all we went through, you still call me 'ma'am' and 'your majesty'.

He blinked surprised at her comment, for a moment taken aback by the meaning of her words.

"You've never told me to address you otherwise," he stated, tilting his head in disbelief and raising a brow.

She inhaled deeply before she could speak again. "I think I just did," she said softly, smiling at him from the safe distance behind her desk.

"I guess you did," he repeated, a silly grin appeared on his face and he cleared his throat. "So you mean…"

"I mean that, when we're in private, I want you to call me Clarisse." She smiled and in her mind echoed a snippet of a conversation on the beach. "Just… Clarisse."

Silence fell between them again and this time it wasn't awkward, there was just a meeting of eyes and a mutual feeling of understanding present. He simply nodded at her request and when she smiled in response, he could swear that he saw something of the real her behind the wooden shield that was her desk. Getting a glimpse at her inner self meant almost more to him than her subtle invitation to come a little closer.

"I would be honoured to, Clarisse," he said, tasting the sweetness of her name on the tip of his tongue.

She was filled with a pleasant sensation of relief that she had found the courage to soften things between them without losing her decorum. Maybe it was that easy after all.

She smiled one last time and sat down, opening one of the dozen files on her cluttered desk. "Good. Thank you, Joseph."

The hint was subtle but well heard and he took a few steps back, walking towards the door as he heard her putting on her reading glasses again. With the handle in his hand he turned around, glancing at her one last time before he would be forced to end this conversation.

"Clarisse?"

"Mmm?" She looked up over the rim of her glasses, her cheeks had gained a deep shade of pink and her eyes were warm, a sight that warmed his heart. He smiled.

"Don't work too hard."

With that he left the room and he never caught how she buried her face in her hands and moaned softly after the door swung shut. If he had, his smile would have been even bigger.

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"Darling?" Her voice pulled him out of his slumbering state of mind and he rubbed his painful back as he tried to sit up straighter. God he hated this hard couch and taking a nap on it didn't turn out to be the smartest thing to do.

"Oh, thank you honey," he yawned, gratefully accepting a glass of red wine and smiling at the woman who gave it to him.

"I'm glad you found your way back!" Catherine sat down at the other side of the soft blue couch in the centre of the hotel room and opened the magazine in her hands, playfully putting her cold bare feet on her lover's lap. She smiled when he reached out to warm them behind his hands and couldn't suppress a giggle when his fingers teasingly played with her toes. "Stop it, that tickles!"

"I always find my way back, I'm a guy," he muttered, now massaging both her feet and she closed her eyes at the contact. "Besides, you were having fun with my darling sister in law and you didn't look like you missed me." He ran a finger over the sole of her foot playfully.

She opened her eyes and chuckled. "Darling, believe me when I tell you that I always prefer you close. That is, if you stop tickling me!" She laughed out loud now, pulling back her legs abruptly. "I can't read if you do that! Please keep yourself busy, I only need a moment to finish this article."

He grinned and leaned over the coffee table to grab the newspaper that had been waiting for him all day. They stayed in bed for far too long that morning and they eventually had to hurry to reach his brother's house in time. It was a good excuse to be a little late, he had to admit. Fiddling with the pages he buried himself behind the paper, Catherine's feet were resting comfortably on his lap and his glass of wine was in hand's reach. And then it was silent.

After reading the headlines he turned the first page and for a moment he couldn't believe his eyes. "I'll be damned…" he said, folding the paper so he could concentrate on the article that captured his attention.

She didn't look up from her magazine but she caught his surprise nonetheless. "What is it?" she asked, "Someone escaped from Alcatraz again?" When he didn't answer she took off her reading glasses and leaned over to peek behind his paper. A big article about the royal family of Genovia covered the page, flanked by two small pictures. "Oh that's right," Catherine said, "your brother told me San Francisco has royal company this week."

"What the…" he kept gazing at the picture of the older lady and read the written words as fast as possible. "Queen Clarisse of Genovia…son of a..." He repeated her name over and over again, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I didn't know you were into royalty!" Catherine grinned as she studied his surprised face and sat back on her spot of the couch.

"I spoke with her today," he said, tapping on the picture with his finger. "I really did, she was at the beach!"

Catherine couldn't suppress a laugh. "Sure you did! I had a chat with Prince Charles over tea as well, come on Robert…" She shook her head.

He took off his reading glasses. "You don't believe me? She had her guards with her and everything, I brought back her scarf."

She emptied her wine glass and got up to move to the kitchen. "Her scarf? Really?"

"I'll be damned," he repeated, reading the article again and again. "Well at least now I understand why her guard kept looking at me, he probably thought I would assassinate his Queen or something!"

"You're lucky that he didn't assassinate you!"

"I guess so," he grinned and finally put down the newspaper to glance at his lady again. "Catherine…" he said, getting up with difficulty as he tried to keep his wine glass balanced.

"Mmm?" She grabbed a bag of potato chips out of a cabinet and read the ingredients, something she always did.

"I realized something today," he said and entered the kitchenette, moving behind her to wrap his arms around her waist. Right away she reacted and let go of the bag of chips, placing her hands on top of his arms, leaning her head back and welcoming his embrace. They both smiled.

"You did?" she asked softly, tilting her head so his lips could graze the sensitive skin in her neck. No matter how many times he did this, she would always melt in his arms and he knew it. "Not that you should have been King, we've been through that before."

"No not that, although it's the truth," he murmured, tickling the back of her ear with his tongue and he felt her shivering in his arms. "I realized how lucky I am to have you in my life."

With a smile she turned around and nestled herself in the safety of his embrace. "We're both lucky," she said softly and pressed a small kiss on the tip of his nose. "Come on King Robert, let's get to the royal bedroom."

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Funny how little gestures can change into life altering events, funny how a casual talk can lead to exposing truths that aren't meant to be shared. Funny how a simple dance can change the relationship between two people.Those thoughts ran through her mind as she let herself float along with the melody and the man who was guiding her. But the second the music faded the cruel reality hit her, knocking her to her senses and she realized that she shouldn't have done it. With a pounding heart she stepped away from the warmth of his body, the smell of his cologne and the intensity of his eyes. "Why not let him?" Again the words echoed loud in her mind and she shook her head fiercely, trying to get it out both her head and heart. She couldn't let him; she had other matters to deal with first, other business to handle and mostly other hearts to please.

Joseph cleared his throat and she froze when he spoke. "I'm sorry."

His words caught her off guard, the tone of his voice was polite and to an outsider it would sound sincere. Though, what should have comforted her suddenly annoyed her and her eyes met his again.

"Don't lie to me," she answered bluntly.

He blinked confused but he couldn't deny her accusation. "Very well, I'm not sorry," he said as he watched her crossing the room with her head held high. He shook his head; all he was trying to do was get her to open up a little, to show her that there was more to life than work and obligations. She had followed him hesitantly but smiling and it had felt like a relief; finally they could continue their friendship as it once existed. The friendship they both had been missing for quite some time. One night ago she had invited him by using the sweet power of her name; tonight he could only invite her back by using the sweet safety of music. And yet, as their feet followed the path that the song was guiding them to, suddenly things seemed to shift between them and by the looks of it she felt it too.

"What do you want from me?" she suddenly asked in a soft voice, staring at him straight now.

"I want you to realize that you arestill alive," he said calmly, walking towards her slowly, "I want you to realize that you're not alone."

She blinked. "But I am alone," she said and when he opened his mouth to react she raised her hand to stop him. She almost didn't recognize her own voice or the words she used but she found herself telling him what was inside her and she couldn't help avoiding his eyes. "When Rupert, and later Philippe died, everyone said they understood how hard it was, to know how I must be feeling. I didn't understand how this could be possible, I did not even know what I was feeling, or if I was feeling."

He didn't respond or move a muscle, all he did was look at her and it was enough for her to keep on talking, the words kept coming anyway and she didn't even try to hold them back anymore.

"It seemed that someone was doing it for me, I lived, I planned, I went through motions but I did not really feel anything during those weeks. I kept on going." She still didn't look at him but fiddled with the pages that lay motionless on the table before her. She had been working on them but she couldn't remember what they contained. She sighed deeply and finally looked up. "It wasn't until a few weeks ago that I realized that I thought I wasn't feeling because nobody really knew, nobody was supposed to know. That's what I mean by being alone Joseph."

He shook his head. "You're alone because you choose to be," he said softly. "Do you have any idea how many people are willing to help you? How many people care about you? How loved you are?"

She rolled her eyes. "They don't truly care Joseph, it's their job. They get paid to care." She gave him a sideward glance and the hint of sarcasm didn't escape his attention. "It's your job too isn't it? My head of security, my rescuer, my…" She shook her head and swallowed her sentence. Why was it so hard for her to admit?

"… Friend," he finished for her. "Clarisse, if you allow people, things might get…"

"… Easier," she finished for him and she smiled briefly before she picked up the papers and held them safely against her chest. "I know, I've been told."

With that she diverted her face and left the room, leaving her head of security behind. She kept repeating to herself as she made her way over to her private chambers, shaking her head over and over again: "Clarisse you coward."

TBC...Have patience with me though.