He raised a quizzical eyebrow at her. She returned his gaze for a moment, then swung her legs over his and stood up. She set her now empty mug on the tray and wandered somewhat aimlessly around the room. She was trying to decide how best to tell her story.

"Clarisse," he spoke quietly, his voice caressing her name. He stood and walked over to the bookcase she appeared to be studying. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. His head rested on her shoulder. "Clarisse," he whispered into her neck. He felt her shudder. "I don't care. I can't say I'm not curious, but it doesn't matter. You don't have to tell me."

She turned in his arms to face him, looking into his eyes. She smiled at him and reached up to take his face in her hands. As she brought his lips down to hers, she murmured, "Oh, but it's such a good story, Joseph." His laughing response was lost in her kiss.

The kiss started out tender and sweet. That didn't last.

Within moments their lips were locked in heated battle. The world shrunk to the size of their two bodies, no space in between. She slipped her hands inside his shirt and he moaned her name. He pushed her back against the bookcase, his caresses quickening.

"Oh! OW!"

Joseph pulled away and looked down at her with concern. "What's wrong?"

"I forgot about the spear!"

He jumped back and she moved away from the bookcase, rubbing her shoulder and glaring at a small statue of an Amazon warrior sitting on one of the shelves. The warrior was brandishing a bronze spear.

"Are you ok? No blood?"

She turned her back to him. "I don't know? Is there?" She pulled the collar of her shirt down, baring her creamy shoulder to him.

"No," his voice cracked ever so slightly and she laughed as she pulled the shirt back up over her neck. She slipped out of his arms and went back to sit on the couch.

"This just illustrates something I've always wondered. Rupert always managed to pull off the most, most…interesting stunts with his, ahem, playmates. I couldn't figure out how he made those things work. I would've found it horribly uncomfortable," she said.

Joseph sat down beside her. "So is this part of the really good story you promised?"

"Yes," she answered and took a deep breath.

"Rupert started to change again when Phillipe started school. Up until then, he was terribly attentive and interested in his sons, and by extension, me. But after Phillipe started school, he lost interest and was soon bored. His traveling increased. He started working late again. All the signs were there, but I shut them out; refused to acknowledge them.

"Genovia was changing as well and I chose to see his busyness as a natural extension of his public role. He had things to do. He still treated me well when we were together. There was none of the snide attitude or attempts at humiliation that had marked his behavior before. I just assumed that times had changed and this would be life from now on.

"We started some vigorous trade negotiations with Germany at that time. The German ambassador had a daughter who accompanied him everywhere. She was working as his assistant, more or less, so she stayed here at the palace with her father and sat in on all the meetings. She and Rupert spent a lot of time together.

"You've probably met her, Joseph. She's a minister with the German government now, Adelita Rosenthal?"

"Yes, I think I know who you mean. Blonde hair, blue eyes – looks a little bit like you, actually," he replied.

"Perhaps. Well, I certainly never thought anything was amiss between the two of them. Rupert was busy and tired, and tended to be a little short with me, but nothing serious. We hadn't been intimate for quite some time. I thought he was just too tired.

"The German negotiators had been at the palace non-stop for about three days. I knew Rupert had finally offered them rooms on the guest floor and they were working long hours.

"One night I couldn't sleep. I was tossing and turning. After hours I gave up and decided to go down to the kitchen for a cup of tea. I used the back stairs. Do you know the closet between those stairs and the kitchen door?"

"Yes – the broom closet?"

She reached up and ran a hand through her hair, toying with it as she spoke. "That's the one. When I passed it, I could've sworn I heard something. I really thought it was a giggle."

"A giggle?"

"Most definitely. I decided to ignore it. I assumed it was some of the kitchen staff or, God forbid, Richard, my bodyguard, and one of the maids. He was good at his job, but he spent all his free time chasing women!

"Anyway, I went to the kitchen and made as much noise as I could while searching for something to eat. I put together a snack, waited long enough for the occupants to exit the premises, then opened the door to go back upstairs. That would have been the end of it, and I might have lived happily ever after, but just as I passed the door, she gasped and said his name.

"I didn't even realize what I was doing, but I jerked open the closet door and there he was, His Royal Highness with his royal shorts down around his knees. The lovely Miss Rosenthal was down around his knees as well."

Joseph tried not to smile. His hand covered his mouth and he tried to look away.

"Oh go ahead, laugh," she sighed.

He laughed. "I can't even imagine His Highness in such a situation. Much less getting caught, uh, well…"

"Getting caught with his pants down? He certainly did. I think I threw my plate at him and slammed the door on them. I don't really remember. What I do remember is that Rupert followed me. He was trying to pull his pants up while running up the stairs after me. He kept saying 'Clarisse, wait! It's not what you think!'" She shook her head and stared up at the painting above the fireplace.

Joseph waited for her to continue. Instead she continued to stare at the painting. "So what did you do?" he finally asked.

She jerked her gaze back to him as if she'd forgotten her was there. A slow smile curved her lips. "I made love to him."