"So, Grandpa, it has been two years since your life changed!" Mia grinned at Joseph over the breakfast table. "Would you do it again if you had a choice?"
"Mia, really," Clarisse frowned at her.
Joseph, however, was already responding. "I would do things a little differently, had I the chance to do it over," he said.
Clarisse and Mia both stared at him open-mouthed.
"Yes. Rather than be married so close to the summer solstice, I do believe I would have preferred to marry in December, preferably ON the winter solstice."
Mia looked the questions she couldn't get out of her mouth. Joseph winked at her, then smiled lovingly at his wife as he took her hand. "The winter solstice is the longest night of the year, not the shortest!"
Clarisse chuckled, but Mia quickly teased, "Do you think you could have lasted that many hours, Joe? I mean, for an old man ..."
"MIA!" Clarisse was horrified now, but Nicholas, Joseph and Pierre were all roaring with laughter.
Then Mia wiped her mouth with her napkin daintily, and re-folded it. "Okay, the reason I wanted you all to come to breakfast is so that I could spring my plan for tonight on you."
"Sounds ominous," Joseph raised his eyebrows as he looked at her.
"I hope not," Mia said. "Only Sebastian and I know about it, but he said I would have the backing of Parliament anyway."
"You generally do, darling," Nicholas said, lounging in his chair.
"That's right. I do. So what I've decided to do tonight, since Sebastian agrees, is to create both Nicholas and Joseph princes, and give them the style of His Royal Highness. So Joseph, you will be henceforth known as Your Royal Highness, Prince Joseph, Duke of Mertz. And Nicholas, you'll be Your Royal Highness, Prince Nicholas, Lord Deveraux, Duke of Liebitz." She sat back and waited to see the reactions.
Pierre watched with interest as Nicholas sat upright in his shock, and Joseph slumped in his chair. Then Joseph was shaking his head. "I don't WANT to be a prince!" he protested, somewhat feebly.
Pierre laughed. "You don't know how many times I used to say that!" he said.
Clarisse turned wide eyes on her grand-daughter. "Are you SURE, Mia? You ... you really would do this?"
"Of course! Why not? I mean, I'm sure we all agree that Joseph and Nicholas are princes among men ANYWAY, right? The Investiture will be tonight at the ball, but I'm going to sign and seal all the papers this afternoon. Sebastian is coming at two o'clock to meet with me."
"Mia ..." Clarisse began, but Mia spoke faster.
"I also have written up two Royal Warrants which we will be declaring tonight. Nicholas will have place, pre-eminence and precedence next to myself on all occasions and in all meetings, except where otherwise provided by Act of Parliament. Joseph will have the same next to Grandma." Mischievously Mia turned to her uncle and said, "Uncle Pierre, do you have a girlfriend? While I'm signing Royal Warrants, I can do one for you, if you want. You'll have to marry her first, of course."
Pierre blinked at her, then looked at his mother who was still clutching Joseph's hand and staring at Mia. "Ah, no, thank you, Mia. Not right now."
"Well, let me know when you want it. I mean, you're still a Prince of Genovia, you know."
"Am I?" Pierre said, slowly. "I have been under the impression for the last eight years that I was no longer welcome here."
Incredulous, the others all turned to stare at him. "I ... I thought you hated it here, hated all of us ..." Clarisse said slowly. "We were informed that you no longer wished to have any contact with us."
"Who would have done that?" Pierre asked. "No one in his right mind would have ..."
Joseph cleared his throat and Nicholas groaned. "My UNCLE would do something like that, given half the chance."
"It was on official Parliament stationery ..." Clarisse murmured.
"As were the letters I got 'advising' me to stay away. And they were all signed by ... Viscount Mabrey." Pierre looked apologetically at Nicholas.
Clarisse stood up suddenly, fury shaking her. "That ... that SNAKE has done the last bit of damage he will ever do in Genovia!" she vowed.
"Clarisse, my darling, please ..." Joseph tried to get her to sit down.
Mia, however, stood up with her grandmother. "You're right, Grandma."
"Very right," Nicholas supported his wife by his words as well as the arm he slid around her slim waist. "You'll have to strip him of his title and banish him from Genovia."
Somewhat bewildered, Pierre looked at the others. "You would do that? Really? For me?"
"It's for all of us," Mia said firmly. "I was denied the chance to know you when I first learned that I was to be queen here one day. Grandma has been deprived of the one son she has still living. And YOU were deprived of US! And yes, I know that sometimes that might be for the best, but still, it's something that has to be done for ALL of us! But, ummm ..." suddenly she looked uncertain. "Can we leave this whole mess until tomorrow? AFTER the anniversary and me creating these men princes?"
O o O o O o
That afternoon, Pierre prowled the palace in search of Charlotte. He caught sight of her as he rounded one corner, then drew back when he realized she was laughing with a man close to her own age, looking much as Pierre remembered Joseph from his childhood, dressed in black and wearing sunglasses. Then Charlotte leaned forward and kissed the man quickly before turning away and hurrying in Pierre's direction.
As she passed him, he put out his hand to stop her. Charlotte jumped. "Pierre! I mean ... Your Highness!"
"You were right the first time," Pierre growled. "Was that Shades?"
"Who? Oh!" Faint colour rose in her face as she realized what he must have seen. "Yes."
"You kissed him."
"Yes."
There was silence for a moment while Pierre glared at her, and Charlotte glared back, refusing to explain any further. Then Pierre snarled, "I don't need your pity!"
"Good, because you're not going to get it!"
"What do you call what happened by the lake? Don't tell me you did it out of LOVE! You felt sorry for me, Charlotte! Admit it!" Pierre's hands tightened on her upper arms, and he almost shook her.
"Oh, Pierre ..." Suddenly Charlotte's anger died away. "You just don't understand, do you? You never have."
"I was told last night that you and this ... Shades ... are madly in love."
"You were told wrong."
"You're calling Queen Mia a liar?"
"I'm saying Queen Mia does not know everything." Charlotte remained defiant, her petite body stiff and unyielding.
"So ... you and Shades are NOT madly in love?" Pierre didn't know why he thought he had the right to question her, but he couldn't stop himself.
Compassion was on Charlotte's face now. Reluctantly she said, "I admit that, well, Shades claims to love me. Madly."
"And you?" Pierre pressed, his fingers tightening even further.
Charlotte winced a little, but did not pull away. For one mad moment eight years ago, she had forgotten who and what he was, and had allowed herself to be held and loved by him. But no sane woman would ever dream of loving a prince, even one who was no longer in direct line for the throne, because with marriage would come the end of privacy and of a 'normal' life. Yet she couldn't lie. Not to anyone, but especially not to Pierre. She took a deep breath, then said, "My heart was taken eight years ago. I cannot love anyone else." Pierre stared at her, and she gently disentangled his fingers from her blouse, not looking at him directly.
"I am too old for you!" Pierre said at last.
"That's what you said before," Charlotte nodded, and she believed that that was the entire reason for his rebuff even less than she had eight years ago. "I happen to disagree. Ten years is not a great age difference."
"Maybe not NOW, but it will be when we are older. We have the example of my parents. From what I could see, it was the age difference that caused them to not have a great marriage."
Charlotte stared at him in silence. He couldn't be serious. He honestly thought that the difference in age between the king and the queen had caused the ... friction ... in their marriage?
"Surely you had guessed their marriage wasn't pure delight," Pierre said impatiently.
"No, I didn't need to guess. I KNEW." Charlotte replied quietly. "I didn't think YOU did. And you obviously still do not know the real reason why it was not a wonderful marriage."
"Because he was so much older than her, of course!"
"No. Because it was an arranged marriage, and your mother and father were never in love with each other." Then Charlotte clapped her hand over her mouth. "I wasn't supposed to ever say that!"
Pierre stopped walking and stood still, his eyes unfocused. His parents had not loved each other? He must have said it aloud because he felt Charlotte's hands on his and heard her voice as if from a distance. "Yes, they DID love each other, Pierre! You MUST believe that!"
"But you said ..."
"They LOVED each other. They were just not IN love. Queen Mia said your mother told her she grew 'very fond' of your father ... but that's all it was. Fondness. Friendship. Not true love. Not like the love your mother and Joseph have for each other." She gripped his hands tightly. "Not like ... not like the love I have for you." she admitted earnestly. "Oh, Pierre, I know I have no right to love you, I KNOW you cannot marry someone like me, and I no longer dream of marrying you and living happily ever after as though I were a character in a fairy-tale ... but I DO love you. It's more than the friendship and fondness that grew out of your parents' marriage, and your mother would tell you that were you to ask ... especially now that she is married to Joseph. They are truly in love."
They were right by the door to the throne room. Hearing voices and footsteps coming closer, Pierre guided Charlotte quickly into the dimness of the throne room and shut the door behind them. Then she was in his arms and he was kissing her frantically, hungrily. Charlotte responded passionately, and their embrace was all Pierre had waited for. With no thought to place, time or position, he held Charlotte close to him and let his body absorb her. Her hands were moving restlessly over his back, trying to draw him even closer, and his slid from her hips to her breasts.
A faint gasp from behind him alerted him to someone else's presence, and Pierre whirled around, shielding Charlotte from view. His own eyes widened in shock.
O o O o O o
After lunch, Joseph and Clarisse had withdrawn to their suite to rest for the evening's festivities. Joseph, however, had been too restless to settle, so Clarisse finally took his arm firmly and announced that they would walk the corridors of the palace for a while. When they reached the throne room, she had an idea, and steered him into the empty, echoing room.
"Joseph, Mia is going to create you a prince tonight. You will be given estates, duties and responsibilities ..." she began.
"Clarisse, did you put her up to this?" Joseph finally asked the question which had been preying on his mind. "Did you ask Mia to turn me from a frog into a prince? Are you ashamed of me? Of being a queen, yet married to a nobody?"
"Joseph, how could you even THINK such a thing?" Clarisse was astounded. She threw her arms around him. "No, I never asked Mia to do this, but I am very glad she thought of it on her own. NO, I am not ashamed of you! On the contrary, I thank God every day that ... that you love me enough to marry me in spite of my being a queen. I know what you had to give up ... your privacy, your ..."
"My women ..." he inserted cheekily, reassured by her instant and vehement denial.
She pushed at him. "Your WOMEN? I should HOPE you would give up your women!"
"You are woman enough for me, Clarisse, queen of my heart ..."
Joseph looked around and realized the throne was only a few feet away. He boldly sat down on it, and drew his wife down onto his lap. His hands smoothed over her trim waist then over her breasts, causing her to take a deep breath and lean yearningly into his caresses. Then his fingers were on her neck, her cheeks, and turning her head so he could kiss her deeply. Clenching her hands on the arms of the throne, Clarisse gave herself up to Joseph's kisses. She felt exquisitely sensitized. Every breath she took heightened her awareness that they were both very, very ready to make love. It was at that moment, as she sat on Joseph's lap on the throne of Genovia, that she became aware of the door at the far end of the room opening.
Two figures slipped in then blended into one with the unmistakable sounds of whispers, gasps and quickened breathing indicating what the two were doing. Clarisse inadvertently gasped aloud, and the man whirled around. It was Pierre!
Joseph slid his arms protectively around her as Clarisse wondered what on earth she could say. Yes, she and Joseph had been caught in the middle of love-making before, but this was ridiculous! This was her SON!
O o O o O o
"P - Pierre?" Clarisse spoke quietly, realizing instantly that she would not be able to hide her general dishevelment from her usually astute and observant son.
"Maman!" His childish name for her escaped his lips. "Joseph! I ... I DO beg your pardon for interrupting your ... er ... tryst."
"As we beg yours for being here when YOU have planned to ... CHARLOTTE!"
Pierre felt Charlotte slipping from behind him to come to his side.
"Your Majesty," Charlotte began, trembling violently. "J - Joseph, I ... we ... it was just ... it's not ..."
Pierre put his arm around her and shushed her. Over her whispered protests, he said loudly, "Mother, Joseph, I must tell you that I have loved Charlotte for eight years. Back then, I thought I had no right to ask her to join me in exile, so I - I ..."
"You love Charlotte?"
Seeing the disbelief on his mother's face, and the strange stiffness of her posture, Pierre frowned slightly. If he didn't know better, or want to believe the opposite, he would say that she and Joseph had been ... had been ... ON THE THRONE! As his eyes adjusted to the light, he could see the hectic flush blooming on his mother's face, her faintly swollen lips, her trembling fingers, her clothing which had been pushed awry by Joseph's hands.
"Your Majesty ..." Charlotte began, but Clarisse interrupted her with a breathy exclamation.
"I ... we ... we all thought ... you love Shades!"
Pierre noticed his mother's faint grimace at the words which came out of her mouth, and he grinned inwardly. Yes. Howevermuch he shied away from the thought, his mother and Joseph had obviously started a serious love-making session here in the throne room and now her thoughts were all jumbled. He and Charlotte HAD to get out of here!
Even as Charlotte was quietly repudiating his mother's question, Pierre began to edge her towards the door, feeling like a naughty schoolboy instead of a sedate fifty-year-old. "We'll just leave you two alone ... we'll see you later ... at the ball ..." Then he stopped. "Oh, by the way, Mother, I'm bringing Charlotte as my guest."
"No!" Charlotte protested. "Pierre, no, I have to work ..."
Pierre ignored her protests and urged her out of the door, shutting it behind him.
"Pierre, I can't ..."
"Charlotte," he interrupted her. "Did you notice what they were doing?"
Charlotte thought back, then a flush spread over her face. "Oh." Then she began to giggle.
Evading the guards stationed down the corridor, Pierre hustled her further away from the throne room before giving in to his uncontrollable urge to laugh. "My MOTHER!" he gasped.
Through her own laughter, Charlotte managed to tell him that such things had been going on for the last two years. "They ... they don't always stick to their own rooms, it seems."
"My mother!"
"It's their anniversary," Charlotte reminded him. "And after all those years of denying themselves ..."
Pierre shook his head, trying to get rid of the image of the very proper and most elegant Queen Clarisse sitting on her husband's lap, engaging in ... THAT ... on the THRONE! He looked down at Charlotte beside him, and felt another surge of desire for this woman. He loved her. He knew he shouldn't ask her to marry him. He knew all the pitfalls she would face, how her life would change dramatically ... and, despite her words earlier, he KNEW he was too old for her. But she was irresistible. His self-control had been decimated seeing how happy his mother was now.
His arm heavy around Charlotte's shoulders, Pierre backed her into an alcove and kissed her again. His mouth on hers had been warm, suddenly it was hot, demanding. "Tell me this is real! Tell me I'm not dreaming, Charlotte!" he gasped.
"If you are dreaming, so am I!" Her response was husky as she clung to him.
"Sorry to interrupt," said a cool voice, in a tone which showed she was not sorry at all, "but is it time to ask you two to get a room?"
Charlotte pushed away from Pierre with a gasp. "Your MAJESTY!"
Mia was standing there, grinning at them. "I'm looking for Grandma and Joe ... have you seen them?"
O o O o O o
It was a wonderful ball that night. Music, lights, laughter and love all conspired to make it the most memorable experience Pierre had ever known for a state event. Of course, part of that was knowing that the lovely woman at his side had finally persuaded him to take a chance on their love and marry her. He had decided to wait until the next day, once the spotlight was off his mother and stepfather, before making the announcement. In the meantime, they had danced, talked, and watched the happy couple who were celebrating their second anniversary in many different ways.
The enthusiastic response from the people had been tremendous when Sebastian and Mia had announced their plans for Nicholas and Joseph, and the two new princes had behaved as though they had been born royalty. Mia had privately informed Pierre and Charlotte as they were leaving that she expected to be allowed to do the same type of thing for Princess Charlotte after THEIR wedding.
Charlotte became instantly flustered, and Pierre had laughed before kissing his niece and saying, "Thanks, Mia. We'll let you know if we need it."
"You do. Once a prince of Genovia, ALWAYS a prince of Genovia. So when you marry Charlotte ..."
"Mia, love," Pierre's voice was calm, "Perhaps Charlotte hasn't agreed to marry me yet. Don't you think you're being a little premature?"
"HAVEN'T you agreed?" Mia stared at Charlotte, startled.
Charlotte ducked her head to avoid the young queen's piercing gaze. "I, well ... that is ... actually ..."
Mia nodded. "Uncle Pierre," she said solemnly, "Charlotte cannot tell a lie to save her life."
Both Charlotte and Pierre laughed at that. Mia hugged them both, whispering, "I'm happy for you both!" then went back to her husband.
"May I escort you back to your rooms?" Pierre asked politely, offering Charlotte his arm.
With a brilliant smile, she accepted it, tucking her hand into his and leaning against him. "I love you, your Highness," she whispered. "And yes, I will marry you."
THE END