I know I'm dragging this out unmercifully. I would apologize, but I warned you up front about this story, didn't I? And yet, here you are...

I will apologize for this chapter being terribly short. Tonight I will finish tweaking the ending and will post a longer final chapter - hopefully tomorrow. And maybe all will be forgiven. Or maybe you will just end up frustrated and unfulfilled and want to choke the life outta me. Heh, heh...

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They sat in silence.

After a while, Clarisse spoke again.

"It was almost a year before I said another civil word to him, unless we were in public. It was a long, hard year. For both of us. Eventually, I grew tired of being angry. It wasn't doing anything other than making me sick. Sick and old. Rupert tried to be friendly to me and I finally accepted his gestures. Things improved. I knew something was going on with him, but he hadn't confided in me. It took a while, bu I eventually learned the truth."

Again Clarisse replayed the memory in her mind while telling Joseph the story.

Clarisse was tired and she was in a terrible mood. The King of Spain was dining at the palace that evening and Rupert had left her to make the arrangements. She had finished that chore and decided to stroll the garden for a while before tackling her remaining paperwork.

On her way outside, she walked past Rupert's sitting room and almost collided with the doctor as he hurried out the door. The man apologized profusely while bending low over her outstretched hand. He wouldn't meet her gaze.

Confused by both the presence of the physician and the man's attitude towards her, she knocked on the door to Rupert's suite. He didn't respond until her second knock. She finally opened the door.

Rupert was pouring himself a drink and didn't turn to see who was at his door.

"Rupert?" she asked rather quietly. "Is something wrong?"

He turned quickly, too quickly to make his nonchalant reply plausible. "Nothing my dear. The doctor just wanted to check my blood pressure. Routine."

"How is your blood pressure? The doctor appeared concerned when he left."

"I'm fine, Clarisse. Please let it be."

She gave a frustrated sigh. "Don't insult my intelligence like that. What is wrong?"

Rupert set down his glass with enough force to slosh the liquid out onto the table. "Enough Clarisse! It is nothing!"

She eyed him coldly. "Don't lie to me Rupert. If you don't tell me I will make it my business to find out on my own."

Rupert turned away from her. His breathing was loud and angry. She waited patiently until he turned back around. His dark brows were drawn tightly together and his eyes blazed at her.

"I have a disease Clarisse. Nothing fatal, but incurable. The doctor today told me that within the next few months or years it will result in total impotence." He glowered at her, daring her to react. "I've no doubt you of all people will appreciate the irony of this."

Clarisse stepped back involuntarily. She could almost feel the force of his emotions. "It's not fatal?" she asked at length.

Rupert shook his head.

An idea occurred to her and her hand slipped unbidden to her throat. "How… how did you… contract this?"

"Oh, God, Clarisse! How stupid do you think I am? I may be unfaithful, but I'm not careless," he roared at her.

"How dare you raise your voice to me?" Her icy voice was a stark contrast to his. "I, of all people, deserve to know what is going on with you. And once again, you are concerned with no one but yourself. Forgive me a twinge of selfishness in worrying what sorts of diseases you may have contracted from your various whores."

"Whores? That is an egregious accusation Clarisse! I may have committed a few indiscretions, but it is hardly fair to accuse me of pandering with prostitutes! I do care enough about you not to risk some thing like that!"

"You care about me? You have an extremely warped way of showing it, darling!"

"That's what bother's you, isn't it Clarisse?" Rupert was smiling now, a hard, angry smile. "You can't except that I can care about you and confine my relationships with other women merely to the satisfaction of a few carnal desires."

"And how would you feel if I did the same, Rupert?"

"Haven't you, my dear? You are continually surrounded by handsome men who would love nothing more than to pleasure their Queen. And what about your budding security detail? All those handsome bodyguards rotating in and out of service with you. Who is it this month, Clarisse? Hans? How is his service to the crown going?"

She gasped out loud. "You bastard!" Her voice cracked and she turned on her heel, poised to run from the room. Rupert reached out and grabbed her arm.

"I'm sorry," he said. She wouldn't turn to face him. "Please, Clarisse. I know that was uncalled for."

He could see the anger mixed with hurt in her eyes. "I'm sorry," he said again, releasing her arm.

"I made a vow, I took an oath Rupert. I've never broken that vow. God only knows why." She took a deep breath. "Let's try this again. What is wrong with you, Rupert?"

He sighed and sat down on the couch, motioning for her to join him. He explained the specifics of the disease. He explained that it was the cause of his lowered sperm count. He knew it was a genetic disease inherited from his mother's side of the family. This was why he'd been so worried he couldn't father children. Over time the disease shuts down the reproductive system and eventually the patient becomes totally impotent. She listened quietly. When he finished, she asked "How long has this problem been going on?"

"Years, I suppose. It's not bad yet, but there are times I can tell that things are not working as they should. And it's getting worse. You hadn't noticed?"

His question caught her by surprise. They hadn't been intimate very often in recent years. "Not when you were with me, no." She allowed herself a small rueful smile at the vague diplomacy of her answer. "So what happens now?"

"That's a loaded question, Clarisse. I don't really know what happens now." They sat in silence for a few moments. He mustered enough courage to steal a glance at her stoic profile. She seemed to be engrossed in a thoughtful study of the coffee table. "Maybe you could try to cure me?" he asked in a purposefully timid voice.

She looked over at him, trying to hide the smile his comment inspired. "Not bloody likely, dear."

Clarisse could feel Joseph's silent laughter when she related that final comment to him.

Then she felt his hand slide around her throat. His thumb turned her chin to face him. He gave her an amused but piercing stare.

"You are indeed a thoughtless tease, woman," he growled at her.

She tried not to let him see how much the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand had affected her. It all but made her toes curl. His wicked grin seemed to say that he was well aware of the effect he had on her. She tried to wriggle away, but his arms locked her in.

"Going somewhere?" he asked in the same low growl.

"No," she replied somewhat more meekly than she'd intended. He gave a soft laugh and leaned in towards her moist lips.

She spoke quickly.

"You're the reason I slept with him the final time."