Author's note: Thanks for enjoying this plotless character study. One more chapter to go and it's done. I really enjoyed this one in particular.
Joseph groaned as he pulled on the dress trousers he'd fought with Olivia to deliver to the Queen's rooms. He refused, despite the glares levelled at him, to eat in trackpants with his sister there. He would have sat about in his boxers with Clarisse – if she'd let him – but certainly not with Mia or Magda there. Wincing from the tired and strained muscles in his back, he pulled on a shirt and tucked it in.
He emerged into her chamber then, as she was stepping into a casual dress. He admired her behind for a moment, the bare expanse of skin between panties and stocking, before she wiggled the dress up and over her hips.
"Being forced to stay in your room has its benefits," he smiled, leaned against the post of the bed, "I have to admit."
She looked over her shoulder, "Of course you do. I forgot I absolutely hate wearing trousers. How Mia stands jeans, I'll never know."
"Proper lady, though, are you not?"
She laughed, "I suppose so."
"You look lovely," he smiled, "As always."
"And you look better," she walked backwards, "Having you here has its advantages too. Zip me up?"
He did as he was asked and kissed the nape of her neck softly, unable to resist the temptation.
He breathed in the scent of her hair.
"It's been so long," she muttered, to his surprise.
"I'm sick," he ran his hand down her arm to intertwine with her own fingers.
"It was long before that," she shook her head and fell against him.
"It won't be long…"
He trailed off because he didn't really know what he was talking about. 'Long' until what?
She nodded, wordless herself.
"My sister thinks you're lovely," he said conversationally, his hands moving to lock around her soft but narrow waist.
"She's right," she whispered, her mouth trailing a kiss along his jaw as she turned her head, "Maybe I could organise a few days away."
"You're preoccupied with thoughts of us?"
She nodded, her hands folding over his, "Your being ill-"
"Don't be morbid," he interrupted gently, "I'm fine."
"It's not that," she shook her head but when he chuckled sceptically she pinched the skin on the back of his hand, "Well, it's not just that. It's that I want this…I want this more."
He kissed the side of her neck again, "Me too."
"And the secrecy frustrates me," she whispered, "The secrecy I insist on."
He wanted to comfort her, even though he agreed, "Necessary secrecy."
She nodded and stepped away, "It's not long until…"
He couldn't finish the sentence for her.
-0-
She'd ordered dinner in the sitting room of her chambers, less formal than the dining room but more formal than the small dining area in her room. Stepping out, the table had been set by the footmen and the butler, standing by. Adolfo nodded a little bow and came towards her.
"Your Majesty," the butler asked, "A drink before dinner?"
She shook her head, "Water, please."
Just behind her Joseph emerged, with more colour in his face than he had in recent weeks. His steps were stronger. It was disappointing, she realised, to know he'd be fit and able to return to his own rooms tonight.
"And you, sir?"
"Water too."
The footmen heard Mia chatting animatedly before they had to open, so when she arrived with Magda in tow, it was hard not to scold their entertained smiles. All of the staff loved her granddaughter but they loved her antics more.
"Grandma! I went by the Japanese room on my way and picked up Magda."
"Thank you darling," she turned to Magda, who had lowered into another perfect curtsey, "I hope your rooms are to your liking. I always liked the Japanese room."
"It's lovely," Magda smiled, "Huge though. My entire apartment in Geneva would fit quite comfortably in it."
Clarisse nodded, "It is freezing in the winter. And I light the fires more than I should."
"Bad for the environment," Mia chirped in, earning a withering look from Clarisse.
"Well it is," Mia said, sidling towards Joseph on the couch, "How's Joe?"
"Better," he pulled her towards him, an arm around her shoulders, "How's Miss Mia?"
"All studied out. Spoke to Lily on the phone earlier, she's asking after y'all."
Clarisse cringed at the Americanism, "All of us? How nice."
Both Joseph and Amelia smirked at her ill-hidden correction.
"Please," she motioned to the seats, "Take a seat. Dinner will arrive shortly."
-0-
Magda was as shocked to admit she was feeling very at ease as she was embarrassed to acknowledge it. The dinner was delicious, the conversation entertaining, the princess charming, the queen quietly warm and her brother completely at ease.
She couldn't remember seeing him like this. She was so much younger and so the recollection of him being this happy was cloudy and yellowed with age. He hadn't been this easy, this at home, for a very long time.
If it hadn't been for the fact she couldn't forget she was sitting with one of the most powerful women in the world and her successor, she could have forgiven herself for thinking they were a perfectly normal, if somewhat posh, family. Her brother, somehow, an integral part of it.
"Your Majesty," her brother argued, stifling a laugh, "I told you not to leave the consulate in that death trap."
The woman in question swirled the wine around her glass and raised an eye brow, "Amelia, defend your grandmother please."
"Uh no," the girl took a slug of coke, "I'll defend my 'stang first, thanks. It is not a death trap."
"Well, as you please."
"So anyway," he turned to his sister, "Her Highness and Her Majesty took quite readily to the streets of San Fran without telling me where they were going. I had the entire team on high alert and was about to enlist the CIA when they were escorted back by the police. The actual police."
"They were very lovely," Clarisse said haughtily, "Were they not Amelia?"
"Oh they were," the girl laughed, "But Joe really flipped at us, do you remember?" Amelia turned to Magda, "It was the first time I saw Joe give grandma a proper telling off. It was funny."
"For you, perhaps," the queen placed her desert fork down, "And it's fair to say it was one of the worst of my many rows. When I was much younger, when the boys were only children, I used to try to escape him all the time."
Joseph laughed, "Still trying."
The queen smiled, "Not as much."
Mia dipped her head, but in the shadow Magda could see a small smile on her face.
"Dinner was lovely," Magda pushed her plate away and took up her wine glass, "Thank you, Your Majesty."
"Not at all," the queen smiled, "Apparently it is a familial thing, being defiant?"
Magda blushed and felt confused when Joe interrupted, "Clarisse is referring to the fact she asked you to call her Clarisse, and you are not doing so. Am I correct?"
Clarisse nodded, "Must be a genetic thing."
"Or a respect thing," he countered, touching her hand where it rested on the table.
She nodded, "I suppose," then she turned to her granddaughter, "I suppose you'll want to be-"
"Uhu!" The girl pushed the chair back, so it teetered and would have fallen to the ground if her hand hadn't darted out to save it, "Studying beckons."
There was silence as they watched her go.
"Or Mr. Moscovitz," Clarisse muttered under her breath, "Her 'friend'. They…oh what's it called Joseph? That thing she's tried to do with us before."
"Skype," he said indulgently.
Magda swallowed a laugh, "Oh, I see."
"I'm a luddite," Clarisse continued, "It took all of Joseph's willpower to convince me to get a cell phone."
"How's that working out for you?"
Clarisse grinned, "I don't know. I broke it."
Magda looked at her brother, who was shaking his head. His arm was resting over the back of the queen's chair, not touching her, but with a possessiveness not missed on Magda.
He was feigning disappointment, "And then told me you didn't want it. It's still in my desk drawer."
"Where it belongs," she turned delicately to look him straight in the eye, "Wouldn't you agree?"
"I would," he smiled, "With anything you say."
"Good," her hand moved out to brush his cheek, but then the staff came back in and she withdrew her hand very quickly.
Magda diverted her eyes, feeling almost as if she was forgotten. As the staff cleared the table she stood.
"I'll walk you to your rooms," her brother addressed her, pulling out the queen's chair as she stood, "We've taken a liberty, already, with the hospitality on offer. Thank you, Your Majesty."
She gave a gentle little nod, "It's been such a pleasure, Magda. I'm afraid I'll already be busy at work before you leave in the morning so this is good bye."
Magda dropped a polite curtsey, "I am truly grateful for your kindness…your company."
The queen's eyes darkened for a fraction of a second, "I am not as bad as they'd have you believe, am I?"
At this she saw her brother's hand come to rest on the bottom of the other woman's back.
Magda smiled, "No, not at all."
Clarisse gave a light, fleeting little laugh, "It's a shame they get such a say after all."
"I'll be sure to correct them next time," Magda vowed, "I promise."
"Thank you," she smiled.
"Good night," Joseph walked around from behind her and bowed to kiss her hand, "I'll see you in the morning."
"No," she disagreed instantly, "Take tomorrow off."
He simply tipped his head to the side, "Can we argue about it in the morning?"
"Yes," she rolled her eyes, "I look forward to it."
"Let's do it over breakfast," he dipped his head, "Good night ma'am."
"Good night Colonel."
The marble halls were quiet in the darkness of night and their footsteps were the only thing shattering the silence.
"Thanks for-"
"You don't have to," she touched her brother's forearm, "I get it."
"Promise?"
"I promise," she smiled, "I do."
"I can't risk her," he whispered, "You understand? Neither of us would survive it."
"I've never seen you so happy as when you're with her."
He nodded, "She makes me very happy."
"But?"
"But we can't…" he shook his head, "We can't risk it."
"I can't pretend to understand that," she observed without emotion, "You both seem to need the other, why is that wrong?"
He shrugged, "She's married to a country. Who am I to compete with that?"
She heard the pain in his words, the unspoken misery behind the attempt to be flippant.
"Just a guy," she agreed.
"I'm having an affair with a woman who's divided between a small nation," he stopped at her door, "I'm lucky she has the energy for me at all."
"When does she step down?"
"Two years, four months, thirteen d-"
"Not that you're counting?"
He smiled darkly, "I'll tell our family then."
"I think you will need to," she touched his shoulder.
He nodded, "Thanks for not being angry at me."
"It's not me you have to worry about but Rita…" she pulled a face, "She might never forgive you."
"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it," he rubbed his side and winced.
"Still sore?"
"Nothing a good sleep won't cure."
"On your own?"
"Mhmm," he nodded, "Back to the bowels of the palace."
"It won't be long until-"
"Good night darling sister," he interrupted her, "Let's not talk about things we have no grasp of."
She watched him go and then slipped in the door.
So what did you think? Did you enjoy it?