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Anna announced her abdication from the throne three days after her brother's funeral, as simultaneously as the palace announced the trip to the U.S. for Amelia. He reason had been as honest as it could be; she did not feel able to undertake the task and never would - she was not made for ruling. It was as if the country couldn't believe it, as if they couldn't possibly imagine any more weakness from the Renaldi rule.
Sebastian sat in front of her as Joseph watched from nearby. She had locked herself away for weeks and built herself up enough to face them. She hadn't once mentioned their revelation of the night before Phillippe's funeral and he and Anna had decided they weren't going to mention it either.
"Your Majesty," Sebastian said politely, "It's probably the stronger case for the throne anyway, after all, Amelia is his actual heir."
"If she wants it," the queen said at length, "And if not –"
"That is unthinkable," Sebastian said fervently.
Clarisse raised a brow, "Surely, by now, the world has taught us that nothing is unthinkable with my children and I wager my granddaughter will be just as determined. As I was saying if not, Sebastian, there has to be a contingency plan in place and your government, at my directive, have to enforce that. We are currently sitting without a legitimate monarch and you and I know how vulnerable this makes us in the eyes of the world, in the eyes of our people. The Renaldis are the leaders of a constitutional crisis that's been alive and kicking since Rupert died. We both know A Queen Regent is not a long-term strategy."
Hearing it put in those terms, he felt the bilious sickness of the previous weeks welling inside him. He knew now that he and Anna had miscalculated spectacularly in telling her. They had lacked the insight they needed to see it from her perspective.
It was the first time he'd heard her voice her reasons for such a violent reaction and he wanted to get down on his knees and beg her forgiveness.
He couldn't imagine what it would have felt like to have two people you love most in the world rend all you had worked for to shreds.
He watched Sebastian go then and realised that it was the first time he'd been alone with her since they had told her.
"Lock the door," she said softly, "We need to talk."
He did as he was bid, frightened to look at her. This was her first day of ordinary proceedings since the death weeks before. In two weeks, they would leave for America. Over the course of three months, Clarisse had gone from being a wife and the mother of three to a widow and a mother riddled with grief. She was dressed in black, her make-up and hair perfect, but her smile had changed. It had become desperate, as if all the energy in her body was geared towards that one physical cue of happiness.
He wondered if he'd ever see her proper smile again.
He moved to sit at the desk but she motioned to the couches.
"This isn't a meeting," she said, "And it isn't a reprimand. Stop mentally packing your apartments, I can see you doing it."
He laughed a little but was too afraid to give the joke the laugh it merited.
"I want to apologise-"
She held up her hand, "We once vowed we wouldn't do that, didn't we? It seems we are both terrible at keeping any vows we make."
Her humour had grown bitter too, it seemed.
He nodded.
"Why didn't you tell me when you knew? Why didn't you say when she told you?"
He considered her question, "Because all you had worked for would have been ruined."
"And that was Rupert's fault," she said it without resentment, "Rupert told her. Not your fault Joseph. Joseph, I need to be able to trust you. You are the only person I've ever trusted…but…but, plainly put, you lied to me. Regardless of the fact it was an omission, you kept that from me. I-"
"We got back to where we were, before she told me," he admitted in his interruption, disgusted because he was saying it, "You loved me again."
"I have never stopped loving you."
He could tell from the tone of her voice that she was hurt by his admission. He took her hand in his.
"Clarisse, imagine if I'd come from Paris and told you she knew. That Rupert had told her," he sighed, "Imagine your reaction. I begged her not to tell you initially and I am at fault for that. But Rupert was sick – we both knew – Anna was safe, we were close again. It wasn't the right time. I don't know if I really regret it, not fully, but I know I am to blame."
She nodded in agreement, "Yes, you are. But then if we are going to list our mistakes, we're going to need all night. I don't want to do that. I want you to sit with me, and drink tea, and listen to music that we'll argue over. I want to do that. I need normalcy from you. The next few months, just the thought of them, terrifies me. I need you to be there. I am not begging you, but if I have to I'll plead with you for your support and honesty. But always your honesty, I need that Joseph. Please?"
He smiled his concession to her eloquent request and stood silently.
His shift was coming to a close and he headed to the control room to hand over to Shades and swung by the kitchen for some tea and coffee and a greedy selection of pastries.
When he returned she was more comfortable in lounging pyjamas and in front of the television.
She pointed to the talent show on television, "Phillippe loved this. I've been watching it for him…," Her voice trailed off and he could hear tears, "Do you mind?"
He smiled and touched his lips to her crown, "Not at all."
He'd expected a fight, a bombastic hurling of accusations from all sides, before they both admitted they had been foolish but tonight had been refreshingly different. They were tired now, they were too old for that. And there was too much to make up for, he realised. There was too much love to be throwing it away carelessly again and expecting it not to be sore.
-0-
Anna had been given a fair few alternatives to remaining in Genovia. Technically, when a monarch abdicated, they were not allowed to reside in the country. The parliament didn't enforce this rule strictly, but it was considered in good taste for her to make herself scarce for at least a year and the royal advisors hadn't been subtle in ensuring she understood this. With Pierre it hadn't been an issue; he'd been desperate to leave for Seminary, but for her it was more problematic. She had spent all day deciding her plans and forming dreams for the first time. The fact she wouldn't meet her niece, the girl she'd always wanted to know, pained her but it had to happen that way. It was the only way to ease her mother's panic. It was only a year, only 360 days.
She'd phoned Magda for advice and then, in the spur of a moment, Lady Anna Renaldi applied from university in Geneva, where her aunt now stayed and worked for the United Nations. For the first year, until school started, she'd help her aunt with the new vaccination programme she was going to be running. Then, if she was successful, she'd study medicine.
It was crazy, but for the first time she was excited by the exoticism of an adventure that she would orchestrate and manage.
Her father and mother – how pleasant a thing to think, even if she hadn't voiced it – had promised to fund her for as long as she needed, provided it was a sensible path she chose. Well, actually, it hadn't really been her father at all. That morning her mother had come to her rooms. She was still in her pyjamas and had no make-up on and Anna couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her mother like this.
She was older. Phillippe's death had stripped a veneer from her that had been impenetrable before. Her grief, somehow, made her easier to access. It was terrible, Anna thought, but it was undeniably true.
Clarisse had woken her gently and climbed in beside her in her bed. As a teenager she would have screamed at her mother, the distant traitor, to get out but now she was so happy to have her here, she thought she might burst with the kind of excitement she hadn't felt since she was truly little and innocent.
"I know Joseph…" her mother had started, then stalled, "I know your father writes you letters. I couldn't ever commit it to paper. I couldn't tell you."
Anna nodded and faced her mother. Light was pouring into the ivory room through the gap in the heavy drapes.
"But I want to," she said, "I want to tell you that it wasn't just him. He seems, at times, to have the monopoly on love between us. But I love him so very much. You must think, Anna," she reached out and touched Anna's messy hair, "That I chose this life over both of you. And I did. I will spend the rest of my life regretting that. But then I would not have had Pierre or Phillippe. I am not excusing what I did but I had no choice. When he died, I couldn't have been more grateful that I made the choice I did. Imagine I had abandoned him and he had died on that road without Joseph, without knowing without doubt he was loved. I need to think it was fate, I need to think I was still here for good reason. Do you understand?"
Anna nodded quietly.
"His letters are…" Anna looked for the words, "Some of them are crazy. Some of them are so sad. But all of them are about you. At first they don't seem like they are but then they are."
Her mother smiled, "And if I had had the conviction to commit it to paper, mine would look very similar. I fell in love with him without even realising it. And it was inescapable. I tried very hard, for a very long time, not to love him. I tried very hard."
Anna smiled, "I don't doubt it mama."
"Can you forgive me?"
"There isn't anything to forgive," Anna whispered, "You did what you could in the worst circumstances. Mama, you are a wonderful person. And Rupert, Rupert wasn't a bad person. He just did bad things at times. You spend too long trying to find out what you did wrong rather than seeing the million things you did correctly."
For a long while nothing was said.
"I thought, tonight, you might come and explain to us what you will do," her mother said eventually, "I am going to ask your father to remain for tea and speak to him, so I imagine tonight would be the best time. We'll support you fully, financially too, as long as we approve of your plans. By that, I mean don't come to us and say you plan to go to London to party for a year."
She wondered then, for the first time in a long while, at the nature of their relationship. She wondered if, indeed, they still had a relationship at all. She didn't want to know the ins and outs of it by any stretch of the imagination but she was curious about them, about their future. She didn't even respond to her mother's supportive speech.
"Do you still love him?"
She had to be forthright as there was no other way to voice it.
"Yes, more than anything," her mother nodded, "But there is too much just now. Too much complication. I won't ask him to give any more than he has."
"He would want to," she knew sounded too emphatic.
Her mother looked pensive for a moment, "Let us make those decisions. Know we are friends, and we always will be, and that whatever else happens it won't happen quickly. I have you to think about and hopefully, soon, I will have Phillippe's daughter."
Anna nodded and felt her eyes grow heavy again.
"What time is it?"
"Six a.m.," her mother answered.
"Who gets up at that time, seriously?"
"Today's my first day back Anna," her mother said and there was misery in her voice.
"Oh mama, oh I am sorry. Mama, you will be fine. I know you will be."
"I could sleep here, for an hour, couldn't I?"
For the first time in her life, Anna realised she would, at times, have to be responsible for her mother's happiness. The woman beside her had spent so long catering to everyone else's needs that Anna had never once realised it before.
"Of course mama."
So Anna looked at her final list of plans in the present and felt a twinge of nerves. It was eleven at night now and she should have gone earlier but the application had taken a long time and it still wasn't complete. She made her way along the corridor and nodded to the footmen at her mother's door as they held it open for her.
She had expected to hear voices but there were none. There was an unwatched television, half-empty cups of tea and coffee, and two people curled up on the settee in front of a mindless talent show. Her father's arm was draped around her mother, and her mother's head was tucked under his chin. Neither of them moved when she came in, oblivious to her in their sleep, and she figured that she'd be as well creeping out again, enjoying that image, and finishing her application.
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