Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, and I make no money from this work of fiction!

Note: Many thanks to Kathy, Denise and Andreea for their much needed advice and help with this, and especially Becky for solving the mystery for me!

"Here is the mail, your Majesty," Charlotte efficiently placed a tray piled with letters on Clarisse's desk.

Clarisse caught the top one which slid off the pile, and sighed. So much mail! But then, she had been away from Genovia for six weeks. "Thank you, Charlotte."

"Parliament is convening in two days, your Majesty, and the envoy from Spain has been phoning requesting an audience next week."

"Thank you. You may tell the envoy I'll see him at ten o'clock next Tuesday." Clarisse put on her glasses and prepared to begin her marathon reading session.

"Very well, your Majesty. Oh, and Joseph called with details of their flight home in three weeks. Princess Mia's friends will be coming for the first week of her visit. If I may venture to add, Joseph sounded very happy with how things have worked out with the Princess. He was saying that ..."

"Charlotte," Clarisse interrupted her assistant, not wanting to hear about Joseph right now and not willing to examine her reasons for her feelings, "I have a lot of mail to attend to." She picked up the top paper from the pile.

"Of course, your Majesty." Charlotte drew back. "If that will be all ...?"

"I'll call you when I'm finished." Clarisse didn't look up from the first letter.

After an hour, Clarisse sat back, took off her glasses and rubbed her temples reflectively. Almost finished. She had four neat piles of correspondence ... ones which required a response, ones to be filed with no response, ones to be shared with Parliament, and a few still to be read. She also had a number of them in the trash can by her desk. Perhaps it was time to consider implementing Charlotte's suggestion of a few months ago that she begin opening the letters and doing the initial sorting for the queen. However, Clarisse did not usually have this much paperwork. She was sure that the only reason there were so many letters today was because it was her first day back in Genovia.

The last six weeks in San Francisco had been a roller coaster ride of emotion for everyone. Charlotte had succeeded in finally tracking down Philippe's daughter and Clarisse had promptly flown over to meet the girl. It had been a harrowing time, to say the least. Amelia, or Mia, as she preferred to be called, had had no idea who her father had been. She was completely bowled over when Clarisse informed her that she was a princess. Instead of being delirious with delight, she had refused to even consider the possibility, and had stormed away. Clarisse had had to enlist the services of Joseph to help her, in order to properly protect the child. As Head of Security, Joseph had been rather surprised to be asked to be babysitter and chauffeur, but he had acceded to his monarch's wishes. During the time he had spent with Mia, he had grown very fond of her, and that had become clear to Clarisse when he had defended the young girl after her escapade with the press. It had become even clearer that last night, when he had been the first to realize that Mia had decided to run instead of showing up for the Independence Day Ball to let her grandmother and the rest of the country know her decision as regards to the throne of Genovia. It was Joseph who had gone after her, had found the princess stranded in her car, and had delivered her to the Embassy just in time to prevent Clarisse from announcing that Mia had decided not to accept her rightful destiny.

Throughout the worry of that evening, Charlotte had tried lying to allay the queen's inner fears that Mia would not be found. Clarisse smiled to herself now, remembering the guilty, flushed look on Charlotte's face when she had been gently told that she was not a very good liar. Charlotte had been with Clarisse for two years now, and had proven herself the best assistant that Clarisse had ever had. Yet it had only been in the last few days that Clarisse had wondered about Charlotte's personal life, and had allowed the younger woman to see a tiny bit of her own very private personality.

As Queen of Genovia, Clarisse had a public persona to maintain, and she had managed it so successfully that the person she was deep inside had been hidden even from herself for a very long time. She was, in her way, every bit as efficient as Charlotte. Her quick thinking had saved many a diplomatic situation in the past. But Clarisse would be the first to admit that it was difficult for her to see the human side of things, the personal touches. She tended to shy away from that sort of thing, having learned the hard way that to be open to others meant the very real possibility of being hurt. She was hoping that, with Mia's help this summer, she would learn to overcome many of her long-standing reservations.

Of course, one minor obstacle to this transformation in her personality was the Head of Security. In San Francisco, she had come to the realization that Joseph was all too quickly becoming more than just her Head of Security. Her first inkling had come immediately following Mia's dance lesson, when Joseph had stood close to her, turned on the music and had said in his wonderfully melodic voice, "You've been wearing black too long." Then, without giving her a chance to respond with words, he had drawn her into his arms and they had danced. At first, Clarisse had moved through the steps automatically, but then she had looked into his eyes and had allowed herself to be transported to another world - a world where the two of them were alone, with no responsibilities beyond enjoying each other. Although she had tacitly followed Joseph's wishes and had promptly begun wearing the colours she had loved before Rupert's death, neither had ever mentioned that comment again.

Joseph's brashness the night of the ball, when he had waved away the footmen in the hallway then dared to take Clarisse's hand and kiss it while looking into her eyes meaningfully, had quite taken her breath away. Had she not been so ecstatically happy with her grand-daughter's decision, Clarisse might have been very sharp with Joseph. Instead, she had merely smiled regally at him, and thanked him politely at the door of her suite before going in alone, pretending not to notice the flash of disappointment in his eyes at her polite dismissal. Given any encouragement whatsoever, Clarisse was convinced that he would entwine himself into the very fabric of her life. Until she was ready to examine his motives and decipher his long term goals, she had to keep him at bay. She was certain that it was necessary both for her well-being, and for that of the country. She dismissed the faint stirrings of desire that she had felt for him as mere proximity, and quite natural reactions to the pressure she had been under while in San Francisco.

Clarisse straightened up, her lips pressed together. This would never do! She would NOT think of Joseph any more. How ridiculous to be idly daydreaming about a man, as though she were a teenager! Resolutely, she picked up the next letter and put on her glasses. Incredulously, she scanned the first paragraph before turning it over to see if there was a signature on the bottom. Nothing. She skimmed through the contents of the letter again.

The first paragraph rambled about the fact that her clothing had become MUCH too bright for a widow. Surely it was much too soon after being widowed to put aside the black. She was certainly not showing proper respect for King Rupert, may he rest in peace, which was doubtless impossible the way his merry widow was carrying on! Not only her clothes, but her entire demeanor was questionable. The entire country had been forced to watch the hungry looks the pitiful queen constantly gave to other women's husbands, the touches, the dances, and, what was much worse, the play for Joseph's attention. True, he was not OFFICIALLY bound to another, but ... The letter commented on the look Clarisse and Joseph had given each other as they 'snuck' away from the ball that night ... with a rather disgusting innuendo at the end. Clarisse crumpled the letter and threw it away convulsively, feeling sullied, and the memory of the most recent Independence Day Ball was completely ruined for her.

Who could have written this? Obviously someone who had been with them in San Francisco ... but WHO? Clarisse stared down into the trash can, and her eyes filled with impotent tears, which she dashed away impatiently. It was nothing to cry about. She refused to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing that she had been hurt by an anonymous letter. If the author wasn't brave enough to sign his or her name, what was written was worthless. For a moment she glared at the crumpled letter, but suddenly she retrieved it, and smoothed it out. No, she would not throw it away. She would keep it, just to remind herself that she had a duty to her country to fulfill, and she would fulfill it. She was the queen, and that was her job, her person, her life.

In spite of not wanting to ever think about the letter again, Clarisse found it on her mind a great deal in the next few days. She would find herself wondering if the person speaking with her could have been the one to have sent it. She wore a dark blue suit for the meeting with Parliament, but defiantly added a bright scarf. She was very aloof when speaking with any man, and very conscious of where she was looking and who might be watching her. The strain began to tell on her, but when Charlotte ventured to question the reason for her moodiness, Clarisse merely swept her a scornful glance and said nothing. Could it possibly have been CHARLOTTE who had written the letter? Who else had handled the mail? Yet when she took a chance and looked into Charlotte's brown eyes, Clarisse found it very difficult to believe that Charlotte knew anything about maliciousness. What could possibly be Charlotte's objective? Was she perhaps interested in Joseph, despite the age difference? Why did Clarisse find that thought so terribly distasteful?

When Mia and her mother and the Moscovitz brother and sister arrived at the palace for their summer vacation, she managed to put aside her concerns and concentrated instead on showing Genovia to her grand-daughter, willing Mia to love it as she herself did. Having Mia and Helen there for the summer months eased her troubled thoughts, and when no more letters came, she began to relax.

Unfortunately, the poison lingered, and at times Clarisse couldn't help but feel the sting of it when she noticed how close Joseph and Charlotte had become since their time in San Francisco. She could do nothing but bite her lip, lift her chin, and carry on as though she wasn't aware of a thing. If those two were meant to be together, despite the age difference, so be it. She would not put up any obstacles to their relationship, and she refused to admit that the very possibility hurt her deeply.

The second anonymous letter arrived a few days after Clarisse and Mia had together hosted the Pear Picking Festival and Ball, again accusing Clarisse of not acting as a widowed queen should act. All the dances she had had were detailed, with particular reference to dancing with the Prime Minister and with Joseph. In all cases, Clarisse reportedly showed unacceptable behaviour, and her 'flirtatious manner' was not appreciated by the wives of the men she spoke with. Clarisse put this letter with the first, and tried to not let on in any way that she had ever seen it.

The following year, after the annual Genovian Independence Day Ball, another letter showed up in the middle of the stack of letters awaiting her attention. Clarisse read the opening paragraph, then viciously shredded the paper and dropped the pieces in the trash can. How could she possibly even CONSIDER abdicating the throne in favour of her son? Pierre had no interest in being King of Genovia. He had made that perfectly clear to everyone years ago! And why did the writer not realize that she was required by protocol to dance with all the parliament members, be they married or single? Clarisse ignored the continued reference to her flirting with Joseph, as she had never knowingly flirted EVER in her lifetime!

No more letters came for a long time, and gradually Clarisse let the bad memories slide into the back of her mind. The next year, again after the Independence Day Ball, she received the fourth letter. It accused her of favouring Joseph, and insinuated that her behaviour signified that she was no longer fit to be queen. Again Clarisse told no one. Hiding her concern, she put this letter with the first two. They would have to be dealt with, she knew, but Mia was coming the next day for her summer visit, and Clarisse wanted everything to go well.

One day about a month after her arrival in Genovia that summer, eighteen year old Mia wandered into her grandmother's office and dropped onto the chair. Charlotte and Clarisse immediately stopped talking and looked at the girl. Helen had come over for a week's visit, and had just returned to America that morning.

"He's gone," Mia said dolefully.

"Who is gone, Mia?" Clarisse asked with what she thought was admirable restraint. She and Charlotte were very busy, and Mia had been moping for over a week about her friend in California. Clarisse wondered why Helen had had to mention the boy at all, as Mia had been impossible to live with since that news.

"Michael," was the expected response. Mia had regaled everyone with the story of how Michael was touring the country with his band for the summer.

"Oh," Clarisse tried to think of what she could say to add to that rather innocuous word, then rather desperately looked over at Charlotte, whose eyes widened at having the ball dropped in her court, so to speak.

"Where has he gone, your highness?" Charlotte asked desperately, feeling as if she really had no right to ask such a thing of the princess. It really was none of her business. If the queen hadn't looked so ... pleadingly at her, Charlotte would have made up an excuse to leave the room.

"The band is starting off in Texas, I think."

"Th-that's nice," was Charlotte's murmured response.

"No, it isn't." Mia frowned. "Charlotte, how would YOU like it if your boyfriend just took off? Especially after saying that with the way things were, there was no future in your relationship?"

"The way things are, Mia?" Clarisse questioned her.

"Me being a princess," Mia folded her arms over her chest. "I knew I should have told Joe to take me far away that night instead of ..."

"Mia!"

"Oh, Grandma, I didn't really mean it." Mia leaned over and took Clarisse's hand. "I really DO love you. I just, well, I guess I thought I loved Michael, and that Michael loved me ... and now I'm finding out that I was just really deep in like! He's a sweet guy, and a good friend, but ... well, he's just not the one, you know?"

"Yes, I know," Clarisse nodded, aware that now was not the time to reveal to Mia her own marriage relationship and exactly how much she understood liking as opposed to loving.

"Is Joe married?" Mia asked suddenly.

Clarisse stared at her, flabbergasted, and didn't know what to say. Charlotte, however, shook her head quickly. "No, Princess Mia, he isn't. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, he's kinda cool, you know?"

"Cool?" Charlotte repeated, a blank look on her face. "Joseph?"

"Well, actually, you're right." Mia grinned. "He's not cool, he's majorly hot! I told Michael that once, and it really bugged him. Another thing that bugged Michael was having Joe insist on driving us everywhere when they were here or you were there. Kind of like my own, personal chaperone, you know? Do they have duennas in Genovia like they did in Spain? I could really go for having Joe be my duenna all the time! Oooh, and just imagine getting a foot-popping KISS from him!"

"Foot-popping?" Charlotte inquired, and Mia grinned at her air of discomfort.

"You know, where the guy kisses you and your foot kind of goes ..." and she demonstrated. "Hey, do you think every woman in Genovia has a crush on him, or is it just me?"

Charlotte coughed, her cheeks turning faintly pink as she glanced at Clarisse's expressionless face. "Your majesty, perhaps I should go see about lunch ..." she began.

"No, wait a minute! I'm serious here! What do you two think?" Mia persisted ignoring Charlotte's feeble attempt to change the subject. "Don't you agree with me about Joe? Isn't he something, Charlotte? Come on, you can tell the truth! There's just the three of us here! Don't you think Joe's hot?"

"I, well ... yes, I guess he is, umm ... hot ..." Charlotte's last word faded out, and her cheeks were scarlet.

"I thought so. It CAN'T just be me! He acts so suave and nonchalant all the time, but you know he's giving you all his attention. It just makes me feel so ... safe and cared for, or something. I wonder how old he is? And I love his little one liners, too ... Joe's got an awesome sense of humour! In fact, he's totally wicked!"

"Wicked?" Charlotte echoed weakly.

"Sorry, more American slang. I just think he's terrific. He really is to die for! Grandma, what do you think?" Mia turned to Clarisse, who wondered only that the heavens hadn't fallen on the irreverent, impudent child. Who did she think she was, to be babbling in such a way about a man old enough to be her grandfather?

"I think I have mail to go through right now, Mia." Clarisse pulled herself together and spoke crisply. "Charlotte, could you perhaps come back in an hour?"

"Certainly, your Majesty." Then, obeying an unspoken plea from Clarisse, she added, "Princess Mia, would you please come with me? I ... uh, have something I'd like to show you."

Flashing Charlotte a grateful look, Clarisse turned to the pile of mail and the other two left the room. Before putting on her glasses, she rubbed her temples and thought about Mia's ravings about Joseph. Did her granddaughter really have a ... a crush on Clarisse's Head of Security? From the sounds of it, Charlotte shared Mia's opinion. How could the man appeal to three different generations like that? Then her fingers froze. Three generations? She had included herself in with Charlotte and Mia? "Oh, TOSH!"

Slipping on her glasses, Clarisse started reading the letters. Then, the fifth paper she picked up was another anonymous letter. She skimmed it quickly, her lips tightening ominously. Again the queen was admonished for scandalous behaviour with married men such as the Prime Minister, and with men who should have been beneath her notice. The letter spoke about the queen's too-easy relationship with Joseph, although this time Charlotte's name was also mentioned. The anonymous writer accused Queen Clarisse of being too close to a commoner like Joseph, of demeaning the sacred trust she had been given to rule the people of Genovia, saying that a queen should be above such pursuits and she should allow Charlotte HER chance for a family of her own instead of making the poor girl a slave to the queen's own selfish whims. Once more, it was indicated that Pierre should be in the palace, not away in some remote village serving the church. How could the late king and queen have allowed him just to play at work instead of putting Genovia first? Pierre should be forced to return and take up his duties to his country as the rightful king, or did his mother have no more influence over him than she did over the rest of Genovia?

Clarisse swallowed the bitterness and betrayal she felt, then carefully put the letter with the others she had received over the last few years. Obviously things hadn't changed, although she felt that SHE had. She had thought that she was becoming more, well, human. Her granddaughter's influence had toned down many of the sharper edges she knew she had had before. Knowing she couldn't please everyone all the time really didn't help Clarisse now. She hated being despised by anyone, and hated that the person still would not reveal his or her identity!

By the end of the summer, Clarisse had listened as Mia had gone through four potential 'crushes', not admitting to her inward thankfulness that Joseph had been relegated to the 'old' category and dismissed as a possible suitor, although definitely retained as a devoted friend and honorary grandfather. Mia had gone back to America to college, still bemoaning the fact that she had never REALLY been in love. Little did Mia know that Clarisse herself could say the same thing! That, however, was something she planned to keep to herself. The people of Genovia quite naturally believed that she had been passionately in love with Rupert. Philippe had accused her once, during one of their terrible arguments around the time of his hasty marriage and divorce in America, of not knowing what love was really like, but she had never revealed to him or anyone else that his cutting remark had been true. Clarisse then corrected herself. She had never known ROMANTIC love. Certainly she loved her remaining son and her granddaughter now, very dearly indeed. More so, perhaps, because of the son she had lost.

The letters did not quit coming. It seemed that she could expect one to arrive after a ball, usually the Genovian Independence Day Ball, and one of the complaints would be who Clarisse had partnered in the dances. Clarisse began to detest the balls, when once she had delighted in them. After two more years with more letters, still harping on the theme of Clarisse's wanton behaviour with married men AND with Joseph, Clarisse decided that it would not happen again. She decided that instead of the Independence Day Ball following Mia's twenty-first birthday, they would have a birthday ball upon the girl's arrival. Perhaps that would throw the anonymous letter writer off! The spotlight would no longer be on Clarisse, and she might not be monitored quite as closely.

At the winter castle in the mountains that Christmas before Mia's twenty-first birthday, however, Clarisse received two more letters a few days apart. Although they both touched on the same theme of scandalous behaviour when dancing with married men and Joseph, and keeping Charlotte from having a life of her own, these letters were far worse than the others, with a somewhat different tone. They were hateful ones, tearing her character to shreds, and making her think that the author was someone who truly hated HER, not just her position. As she sat trembling at her desk with the second letter in her hand, Charlotte happened to walk into the room.

"Your Majesty?" Charlotte faltered, seeing the white, stricken face of the queen.

Clarisse looked up, and her fingers tightened on the letter before she crumpled it. "I'm sorry, Charlotte, I was ... pre-occupied."

"Is it bad news? Is there anything I can do?"

"No ... no, it's just ... it's ..." To her utter horror, tears came again to Clarisse's eyes, and her hand shook as she tried to throw the letter away.

"Your Majesty!" In a moment, Charlotte was at her side. "What is it? Please, let me help. What is in the letter?"

Clarisse dropped the letter and buried her head in her hands. "Go on, read it. See what a horrible person I am, according to this person ..."

"I beg your pardon?" Charlotte picked up the letter, and began to read it. Her mouth dropped open in shock. "Where did you get this?" she asked finally.

"It was in with the mail you brought on the tray," Clarisse answered. She looked up as she said that, certain that Charlotte couldn't have known about the letters, and needing to reassure her assistant of the trust she felt.

Charlotte went as white as the paper she held. "I didn't know ..." she whispered. "I'm so sorry, your Majesty, but I ... I really didn't know!"

"Oh, Charlotte!" Clarisse was close to crying, but she forced a laugh. "Believe me, I KNOW you didn't."

"But I'm mentioned in this ... thing ..." Charlotte eyed the missive with distaste.

"So are Pierre, Joseph and Sebastian Motaz. And a number of other men. And the entire letter is about how I supposedly ..." She stopped talking when her throat closed convulsively.

"We have to show this to Joseph," Charlotte declared at last.

"No!" Clarisse said forcefully. "No, I don't need to worry him with these ..."

"These? You have received more than this one?" Charlotte asked.

Clarisse looked away and toyed with her pen.

"Your majesty, have you received other letters?" Charlotte repeated. She stood waiting beside Clarisse's desk, a determined look on her face.

"Yes," Clarisse finally admitted.

"But you didn't keep them?"

"Not all of them. I have some in Pyrus, in the desk in my office at the palace. Here I only have the one I received a couple of days ago, and this one."

"How many have you had?" Charlotte asked, shocked that this obviously had been going on for some time and she hadn't known. How could the queen have kept such horrible letters to herself, and still managed to act no differently in public? Queen Clarisse must be even stronger than Charlotte had thought, and she had always appeared a tower of strength!

"I ... I don't know for sure," Clarisse whispered. "I got the first one four and half years ago, right after we returned from San Francisco."

"Oh, your Majesty!" Charlotte's sympathy knew no bounds. "So THAT'S why you were ..." she stopped suddenly, aware that she had been about to cross boundaries with her sovereign which were not to be crossed. "Joseph must be told about this. If you don't tell him, I will."

"Oh, but ..." Clarisse's voice trailed off and she looked directly at Charlotte. "You really think it is important? It's not just me, well, upset because I'm not popular?"

"No," Charlotte said gently. "Joseph will know whether or not we should do anything about them."

Clarisse smiled at the 'we', and realized that she already felt better about the letters. She was no longer on her own, struggling to make a decision as to whether or not it was worth her time to pay attention to what the letters said, worrying about who could have written them. Yes, Joseph would know what to do. "Very well, you may send for him."

Joseph, too, took the letters seriously. When they all were back in the palace in Pyrus in the New Year, he and Charlotte poured over the others Clarisse had received. During the next few weeks, Clarisse grew much closer to both Charlotte and Joseph, accepting their help, revealing more of her private, innermost feelings than she had ever revealed to anyone in her entire life. When Clarisse mentioned that one day, Charlotte looked saddened and sympathetic. Clarisse tried to smile. "That's right, Charlotte. I was not even this close to Rupert."

Seeing a flare of elation in Joseph's eyes and realizing that he now knew for certain that Rupert had NOT been the love of her life, Clarisse drifted back in her memories to the days when she and Rupert had first married. They had both been very young. Clarisse had known that Rupert had wanted to marry someone else, but his parents had insisted he hold to the arrangements with Clarisse's parents. On their wedding night, she had closed her eyes and endured his resentfully-exploring hands, both doing their duty for their country and neither receiving much pleasure for it. Even after they had grown more used to each other, their lovemaking had been much more perfunctory than passionate. Once Clarisse had borne the "heir and the spare", they both had thankfully abandoned that part of their relationship and embraced their friendship fully. Now Clarisse was almost convinced that passionate love was a myth. If not a myth, then it was destined for only some people, and was not something she would ever experience. Yet, a hint of something in Joseph's expression when he looked at her almost had Clarisse believing that perhaps, just maybe, sometime, she too might know the fullness of genuine love between a man and a woman. Then Clarisse pushed her feelings deep down again and concentrated on the task at hand. She was almost too afraid to hope, especially since once again it was becoming glaringly obvious to her that Joseph and Charlotte were extremely close.

Together, they argued over whether or not the letters were all from one person or perhaps a group of people. The three of them compiled a list of suspects - a very short list. Charlotte put her name first on the list in spite of Clarisse's protests, wanting it to remain until she was cleared. After reading some of the first letters Clarisse had received, Charlotte said they sounded a little different than the later ones, and also more as if they must have been written by HER because she was possibly the only person who could know such things.

"Nonsense!" Clarisse insisted, crossing out Charlotte's name. "I am QUITE sure of this. Anyone who knows you at all knows you couldn't possibly have written them! Why, you could be of royal birth yourself, the way you selflessly give to your country and to me! Besides, you picked up quite a bit from being forced to endure Mia's princess lessons, and even Pierre commented at Christmas how you have grown more loveable than ever in the last while! Indeed, recently I've often found myself thinking of you as the daughter I never had!"

Charlotte was speechless, and her face flushed brilliantly. Clarisse smiled at her confusion, wondering why she had never said anything before to this younger woman who had served her so faithfully and so well for a number of years now. Pierre had been quite effusive in his praise of Charlotte, Clarisse remembered fondly, and it was definitely time Clarisse passed on some of that praise to Charlotte!

"For what it's worth," Joseph added, as Clarisse had expected he would. "I agree. Charlotte, we know you did not write the letters. Is there a chance it could be one of the many palace servants, or perhaps one of your ladies' maids, your Majesty, or even one of the security guards? Perhaps Shades?"

"No," Charlotte shook her head decisively, "it has to be someone who was in San Francisco, which eliminates most of the servants here and Shades wasn't even working at the palace then."

"Well, the letters are getting past Charlotte somehow," Joseph frowned. "Perhaps there is a conspiracy afoot? For that matter, if Charlotte wanted to put down her name, I think MY name should go on the list as well."

"YOU?" Charlotte laughed and Clarisse stared at him, wide-eyed in disbelief.

"If I were to attempt such a heinous crime, I would perhaps throw in the comments about your behaviour with me in order to throw you off," he spoke seriously.

"No, Joseph!" Clarisse said firmly, "We are NOT putting you on this list. Neither you nor Charlotte could have possibly deceived me with your response to seeing the letters in the first place. No, it is someone else. But who else was in San Francisco five years ago? Is there perhaps one or more unhappy Parliamentarians? Lord Crowley, who has been feuding with his brother for years?"

"Not very likely," Joseph shook his head. "He's too preoccupied with that feud and wondering where his next free meal is going to come from to worry about who you are dancing with, your Majesty."

"Actually, you know," Charlotte said hesitantly, "something in the way these letters are worded in the beginning gives me the impression that they were written by a jealous woman, one who was perhaps wanting ... something they think you have."

"The crown?" Clarisse raised her eyebrows.

"No, your Majesty. Actually, I'd say it was ... Joseph." Charlotte's voice was soft and her smile tender as she looked at the man.

"Me?" Joseph was startled. Then he smiled back at her. "I'm flattered."

"Ridiculous!" Clarisse retorted. "I don't HAVE Joseph! Everyone knows that!"

Charlotte wouldn't meet her eyes. "There have been ... rumours," she murmured reluctantly. Then, at the darkening expression in Joseph's eyes, and the flabbergasted look on the queen's face, Charlotte swallowed. "But then, rumours aren't worth paying attention to," she continued briskly. "Well, then, have we narrowed down the suspect list at ALL?"

"Not really. Your Majesty," Joseph tapped a letter as he thought, then said, "Perhaps we should tell Prince Pierre about these letters. It seems that increasingly his name has been brought into them. He deserves to know ..."

"No," Clarisse refused categorically. "We shall not tell Pierre. Not yet, at any rate. Not until it is absolutely necessary."

"You know," Charlotte said suddenly, "I just remembered ... maybe we should put down that principal from the princess' high school. What was her name? I can't remember."

"Why would we put HER down? She wasn't at the ball five years ago, and we haven't heard from her since!" Joseph looked perplexed, as did Clarisse.

"Because, well, because ... she wrote a letter to you, your Majesty, the day after you and Joseph went to the school when the princess was written up in the paper." Charlotte looked contrite. "I'm sorry, I forgot all about it."

"I don't remember seeing any such letter!" Clarisse said.

Looking more uncomfortable, Charlotte admitted, "That's because I threw it away after reading it. I'm sorry."

"You THREW IT AWAY?"

"It was much like THESE letters!" Charlotte said defensively. "It was obvious that she, well, fancied Joseph after he spoke to her about some security measures or something, and even though she seemed to be sincere in her words about you, it was more to butter you up so that you would have Joseph released from his duty to you and Genovia and remain in America full-time with the princess and more particularly, with HER, because she would be able to help you adjust to the new country ... oh, basically it was a letter from a very silly woman and I thought it wasn't worth an answer, let alone necessary to show it to anyone! But now, seeing these letters you've been getting, I just remembered that one. I WISH I had kept it so we could compare them ... but, well, she IS a possibility to keep in mind."

"Her name was Gupta," Joseph said. "Put her on the list, Charlotte."

"You remember her name?" Clarisse looked at him, her eyebrows raised.

"Believe me, your Majesty, I remember the names of everyone you have forced me to occupy while you manage to get some real work done," Joseph grinned.

Clarisse merely said, "Hmmm," then looked up. "Thinking back to that time ... put Paolo on the list!"

"Paolo?"

"Certainly. He slobbers over me every time he sees me, he is not above breaking any confidentiality agreements if the pay is right, as witness the events that day at the school you were just talking about, and he knows that in spite of all his sins, he will be called back when we are desperate, again as witness when we called him in the night of the Independence Day Ball in San Francisco, and how he is STILL my hairdresser of choice. He's a genius with hair, and knows he will be forgiven most anything for his talent."

"Hmmm," Joseph nodded. "You are right. It probably would not bother him to blackmail someone, he DOES have an interest in you, your Majesty ..."

"And he's probably jealous of you," Charlotte put in, teasingly, ignoring Joseph's faint scowl, "since you're so much closer to her than he will ever be!"

"Nonsense!" Clarisse waved that off, and watched as Charlotte put Paolo's name on the list.

"Your Majesty, I DO think we ought to tell the Prime Minister," Charlotte said.

"Oh ... TOSH!" Clarisse scoffed. "I shouldn't have let these silly anonymous letters bother me so much, and I CERTAINLY should not have inflicted them upon you two! I've heard that when you get old, you lose your fears and your inhibitions, you don't care what other people think of you. Supposedly by then you have established your sense of self-worth and are happy with it. Well, I'm certainly at the age where I should no longer care what others think, as long as those who matter to me know the truth and accept me for who I am. So perhaps we should just forget about the letters. Maybe these last two were the final ones, and I won't be bothered any more."

Not looking at all convinced, Charlotte and Joseph at last agreed to say nothing to anyone, but both inwardly vowed to keep a close eye on things in the future. Clarisse promised faithfully to tell them if another letter came, and dismissed them.

-

One morning, in the middle of dictating a letter, Clarisse suddenly stopped. She had been thinking of Mia's phone call the previous day. After saying she was almost finished her final exams, Mia had been again lamenting the lack of true love in her life, and Clarisse had begun to feel incredibly old and as if she had missed a great deal of life, not having experienced true love herself. "Charlotte, have you ever been truly in love?"

Charlotte dropped her pen in surprise, then scrambled after it, finally coming up again with a very red face. Clarisse studied her, wondering if the blush was from the exertion or from the personal question she had just asked. Charlotte began stammering, "Why, your Majesty, I ... well, I suppose, to be very truthful, I ... well, yes, I ... he ...you ... I mustn't ... it's not really ... oh, please, excuse me!" and she fled precipitously.

Clarisse looked after her, considering her words and trying to decipher the meaning. It SOUNDED as though yes, Charlotte was in love, but felt that for some reason - Clarisse herself, perhaps- it could not be publicly acknowledged. It wasn't ... oh, it COULDN'T be Joseph who Charlotte loved, could it? Clarisse closed her eyes in anguish. This matter of love was almost too painful to ever contemplate! WHY couldn't Mia just be satisfied to live and rule Genovia as she herself had? Why bring love into the mix at all?

Just then a knock came at the door, and the footman opened it to admit Joseph. "Your Majesty?" he said, standing formally before her desk. "I have something to show you before the session of Parliament tomorrow. I had thought Charlotte would be here ..."

Clarisse stood up promptly. "She just stepped out," she said. "I could have her called ..."

"No, that's all right. You can show her later. I only have a few moments now. Will you come with me?"

"Certainly." Intrigued, Clarisse followed him down the hall, through an archway and up a couple of steps into a little nook. Opening the door at the end, they entered a small chapel with painted walls and stained glass windows. She looked around, then gasped when Joseph tilted the bust sitting on the shelf and a portion of the wall slid open. "This is the secret passageway?"

"One of many, your Majesty. King Rupert never showed you this?"

"No," she breathed. "He did mention it once, saying all the royals in his family used it to ..." she paused, then finished quickly, "no, he never showed it to me."

"I have a flashlight." He shone it into the hole, revealing a narrow passage.

Clarisse followed Joseph through the door, and around the corners in the passage, then up two stairs into another empty small room with what looked like one clouded-glass wall. Then he ushered her through another doorway, up five stairs, to another small room. Her eyes passed over the dusty shelf with a wooden box, a candle holder, a jar of candle stubs and various and sundry other small items, and Joseph indicated a small metal square about eye level. "Lift it, your Majesty," Joseph said, his voice echoing strangely through the passageways.

Carefully, Clarisse lifted the panel, revealing a grating which let in a vast amount of light. Looking through it, she realized she was seeing into the inner chamber where Parliament sat. "Joseph, it WOULD be possible to eavesdrop on whatever is going on in Parliament from here!"

"That's right, your Majesty. Take note of where it is, if you please. I wanted you to know so that tomorrow you may be assured that Charlotte and I will be with you in Parliament, in a manner of speaking, of course."

"Of course," she said automatically. While she was very grateful for the support, she wondered why it would be necessary. It was just a short session to finalize arrangements for Mia's arrival and twenty-first birthday party to be held the next week. The day after the party, Parliament would meet for one more short session before breaking for the summer. Was Joseph expecting something to come up ... perhaps about the letters? "Joseph, do you know anything ...?" she began.

"No, no, nothing like that." he assured her. "I must hurry now, your Majesty. I have something important to attend to at this time, but perhaps I may stop by your office later this afternoon? I leave the day after next for America, as you know."

"Yes, of course," she nodded, and followed him out of the secret passageway. "Would it be all right if I showed this to Charlotte now?" she asked.

"Of course, your Majesty!" he looked surprised. "Why not?"

"I ... nothing," she said. She had thought perhaps he might have wanted to show Charlotte the passageway himself. She tortured herself briefly, wondering if he would kiss Charlotte in the dimness of the room tomorrow as she found herself futilely wishing he had kissed her today. Then she shook her head in disgust. What was she thinking?

Charlotte appeared soon after the noon meal, at the time she usually came to go over correspondence with Clarisse, but she seemed to be avoiding Clarisse's eyes and only spoke briefly when speech was unavoidable. Finally, rather exasperated, Clarisse pushed the papers back on her desk, looked at the woman seated by her side and said, "Oh, Charlotte, really! I'm sorry I asked you such a personal question this morning, all right? I promise I won't do it again. You CAN just tell me to mind my own business, you know! If you and Joseph hadn't been pushing me lately to ... oh, never mind. May we put it behind us now? We'll never get any work done if we have to pussyfoot around each other the way we have been for the last few moments!"

"Yes, your Majesty. I'm sorry, too, it's just that ... yes, we'll put it behind us." Charlotte took a deep breath, then said, "I know you have to be in the throne room in half an hour, so where shall we start, your Majesty?"

"Have you heard of anything that might be happening at Parliament tomorrow?" Clarisse asked.

Charlotte looked startled. "No. Why?"

"Because Joseph showed me the secret opening into the chamber where Parliament sits, and told me that you and he would be there tomorrow so that I will not be alone in Parliament. I want to know what is expected and WHY I might possibly feel the need for support ..."

Charlotte again looked away and chewed her lower lip for a moment. Clarisse waited, forcing herself to not tap her foot in impatience. Then Charlotte seemed to come to a decision, and she looked directly at Clarisse. "I got a note yesterday ... and so did Joseph."

Clarisse stared. "A ... a note?"

"Like the ones you received. We think they were possibly from the same person."

"Why didn't either of you tell me?" Clarisse demanded.

"Joseph wants to bring this matter to Prime Minister Motaz' attention, if you will agree," Charlotte said, evading Clarisse's question skillfully.

"Oh, but I ..." Clarisse's voice trailed off. Her eyes searched Charlotte's for a moment, then she said slowly, "You both really think it necessary?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Couldn't we just TELL him ... oh, Charlotte, I, well ..." Clarisse felt her face flushing as she stammered. She pulled herself together, and continued smoothly, "All right. If we must."

Charlotte smiled sympathetically. "I think we must. And I don't particularly want to show my note either, if it makes you feel any better. Why, it makes me sound as if I've been longing to be Joseph's WIFE for ever! Isn't that just about the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard? Me and ... JOSEPH?" Charlotte shook her head in disbelief, missing Clarisse's start then the flash of joy over her face.

Clarisse chuckled only a little, the faint jealousy had been only too real. "Oh, Charlotte," she said, warmly, touching Charlotte's arm lightly. Then she added teasingly, "I DO hope that if you have been longing to be ANYone's wife forever, you would have accomplished your goal by now even if you haven't let me know who it is!"

To Clarisse's surprise and consternation, Charlotte flushed at that and stood up abruptly. "Well, may I see this passageway? We still have twenty minutes."

"Of course," Clarisse stood as well, stopped to pick up the flashlight that Joseph had conveniently left for them and led the way down the corridor.

Pleased that she had actually found her way and remembered how to open the hidden door in the tiny chapel, Clarisse handed the flashlight to Charlotte and directed her to go on in. As they turned at the bottom of the stairs, Clarisse whispered, "There are four steps, I believe, Charlotte."

Counting under their breaths, the two crept up the stairs, each keeping one hand on the wall and Charlotte flashing the light around the ceiling. Both stumbled and said at the same time, "Five steps!" then giggled a little as Charlotte shone the light down so they could be sure of their footing once more.

Suddenly Clarisse heard a voice murmuring, and she clutched Charlotte's arm, hushing the other woman when Charlotte started to exclaim.

Reaching for the metal peephole door, Clarisse opened it carefully, fastening it up. Now the voices were clearer, but when the two tried to peek into the room, they could see no one. Whoever was in the large chamber must have been standing directly below the opening, so were out of sight.

"It'll come out that first session after, and we'll have help, I've been assured."

"This'll be a big surprise for her, won't it?"

"She'll never know what hit her!"

"She's been much too interested in HIM to notice US. Well, we'll make sure we are noticed from now on!"

"Once HE is on the throne, we'll all get our rewards."

Clarisse couldn't be sure whether the speakers were male or female because they were talking in undertones, nor could she tell how many were there.

"Your majesty," Charlotte breathed into her ear, "if we go out and around, perhaps we might see ..." she began.

Clarisse nodded, and closed the lid, wincing as it clanged slightly. They went back down the narrow stairs and made their way out of the tunnels, emerging into the light and blinking for a moment before hastening around to the corridor by the doors of the room. There, they stopped abruptly, realizing instantly that they would never be able to see who had been speaking. The hallways were crowded with people waiting for the throne room session.

"Your majesty," Charlotte murmured as the two backed carefully out of sight again. "I'll slip into the chambers while you go back to your office. You're running out of time, I'm afraid, and you ... well, you don't have your crown."

"Yes, I suppose they expect to see me wearing it, don't they?" Clarisse sighed. "Very well. But Charlotte, be careful! And do come and let me know as soon as you can, if you please?"

"Of course, your majesty," Charlotte nodded and vanished into the crowd, heading towards the door.

Clarisse retraced her steps to her office where she found Olivia quite agitated because the queen was not going to be ready for her appearance in the throne room on time. "Nonsense!" Clarisse said, briskly. "I don't need to wear a ball gown. This outfit will be fine. Where is ...? Ah, thank you, Olivia," she added as Olivia reverently handed her the crown. Now properly attired, Clarisse swept out, joined by Shades who accompanied her to the throne room and stood behind the throne in Joseph's usual place.

Charlotte appeared moments later, her clipboard in hand, taking up her usual spot as well. She caught Clarisse's eye and shook her head slightly. No one had been in the room when she had reached it. Clarisse nodded back in acknowledgement, then concentrated on fulfilling her duties of the moment. At last the afternoon throne room session drew to a close. Joseph appeared, and Shades returned to the security guard room. Joseph spoke briefly to Charlotte, then looked at Clarisse as she walked up to them.

"You have no idea who they could have been?" He shot out the question abruptly.

"None," Clarisse said simply.

Together, she and Charlotte managed to remember what they had overheard, Charlotte wrote them down and the three studied the sentences as they made their way back to Clarisse's office.

"The first session after WHAT?" Clarisse said. "I'm assuming I am the 'her' and 'she' referred to, although I suppose it could be Mia. Could it be that first sitting after her birthday party?"

"Or possibly the first session after the princess assumes the throne?" Joseph suggested. "Except that they DO talk about a HE being on the throne!"

"Joseph, why didn't you tell me you received a letter yesterday?" Clarisse suddenly turned to him.

"It was nothing," he waved his hand. "But I do believe it was from the same person. Charlotte, do you have your letter with you?"

"Well, no, I ..." Charlotte began.

"Perhaps you should bring it and we can put all the letters together to show the Prime Minister. And speaking of Mr. Motaz, perhaps you could call and see when we might meet with him?" Joseph continued.

"Certainly," and Charlotte veered off towards her own room.

Joseph and Clarisse entered her office, and Clarisse unlocked the drawer in which she kept her letters. Putting the file on the desk, she turned to Joseph. "Joseph, do you have your letter?"

"I do," he patted his pocket.

Clarisse shook her head and bit her lip. "I thought it was just me. I thought ... oh, Joseph, why is this happening now?"

He put his hands on her shoulders gently. "It's not about YOU. Not as a person. It's about you as the queen. We'll solve this mystery."

"Oh, Joseph ..." her hand cupped his cheek gently and she smiled tremulously at him. "Thank you ... for everything."

Suddenly his mouth was on hers, although neither were sure how it happened. She knew she should stop him, but the moment his lips covered hers, she was lost. Needs so long denied took over her will. The need to have his hands on her until she quivered and trembled. The need to have his mouth moving over hers until she had memorized his taste. A need that had her aching and hot with desire all at once.

"You SHOULD tell me to stop right now ..." his voice was a low whisper of urgency that only added to the feelings of excitement and danger of discovery.

Clarisse could only moan, wondering how it was she had ever existed without knowing what his kiss was like or how his touch could excite her more than she had ever dreamt. Her lips softened under his, and her passion overflowed the constraints she had placed on it so many years ago. No longer was she Queen Clarisse, instead, she was once again Lady Clarisse, the girl she had never really been allowed to experience. Deep in the recesses of her mind, she became aware of her foot rising behind her ... THIS is what Mia had meant by a 'foot-popping' kiss!

He ran hot kisses over her face, and down her throat when she arched her neck to give him easier access. Her body was so delicate that his merest touch had her trembling, and Joe felt the shudder that rippled through her. How long he had wanted to feel her warmth pressed against him! "My love, you are so beautiful!" he murmured against her eager lips.

Clarisse loved the way emotion deepened the timbre of his voice, sending tiny splinters along her spine. Her breath came harder, faster, and her blood heated until it flowed like liquid fire through her veins. Reason, time and dignity vanished as their desire for each other burst into flame. She couldn't speak, she could only cling to him and try to give back in some measure the pleasure he was giving her.

There was so much Joseph wanted to tell her, to give her. For so long, he had watched over this strong, independent woman. Now he had a desperate need to make her his. He wanted her to think only of the two of them, to forget about her worries and her duty to Genovia for just a short time. He wanted to watch her lose all control and know that he alone was the reason. He continued to kiss and caress her and his wants were fulfilled as she came alive in his arms and returned his kisses with abandon. Then a niggling restraint finally forced him to make the attempt to regain his control. She might be ready to love him now ... but would she feel the same way tomorrow? Next week? When their secret became known to the entire country? No. He couldn't do that to her.

Groaning with the intense frustration he was feeling, he very reluctantly pulled away - just in time, as at that moment, the housekeeper entered the room.

"Your majesty, I'm sorry, but we have a crisis in the renovations of the princess' suite!" the woman burst out, paying no attention to Joseph who had stepped back from Clarisse.

The queen, still dazed from the emotions so recently coursing through her body, could barely focus on Mrs. Cowtt's words. She gripped the edge of her desk, willing her mind to work, trying to pay attention to the story the housekeeper was pouring forth. Unfortunately, she could only grasp the fact that the problem had something to do with the plumbing Rupert's cousin had begun to install just yesterday.

Then Charlotte hurried back in, saying that Sebastian Motaz would meet with them immediately following his supper, so would be at the palace in an hour and a half. Clarisse managed to pull herself together. "We'll eat now. Mrs. Cowtt, I'm sorry. The plumbing will just have to wait until tomorrow."

"Yes, your Majesty," and Mrs. Cowtt bowed herself out of the room.

-

Prime Minister Motaz declared himself as baffled as the others with regard to the anonymous letters. It was his opinion that Prince Pierre should be notified, but again Clarisse vetoed that suggestion. When he was shown the bits of conversation Charlotte and Clarisse had overheard, he was sure that the connection could be made between the two letters received by Charlotte and Joseph and someone in Parliament. Then he suggested that the von Trokens were not above suspicion either, although they were not in Parliament. "After all, they WERE in San Francisco, and they are at every major event here in Genovia, and the entire COUNTRY knows of their hopes for the throne!"

"Well, unless something happens in Parliament tomorrow to change our plans, I think we should just put all this aside for a time. Mia's twenty-first birthday is next week, and I do not want anything to overshadow that." Clarisse said firmly, and she concluded the meeting for the evening.

Holding Joseph back when he would have bidden her good night, Clarisse said quietly, "Joseph, it ... it cannot happen again. Please. It's my duty to my country, you see. It seems there is an irreconcilable gulf between duty and love..." she tried to explain.

"I understand. I do not like it, nor do I completely agree, but I understand. I will try to bide my time, my darling," and he was gone.

Clarisse stared after him. He would bide his time? Did he really mean to ... WAIT for her? Oh, she simply could not allow him to continue hoping. There was no telling when Mia would be ready to assume the throne on her own! It could be months, even a year! Joseph could not possibly wait THAT long until he could openly declare his feelings for her, could he? It was too much to expect, and she would never ask it of him. Then the remembrance of her feelings as she was in his arms overwhelmed her, and she realized that although she would not ask it of him, she could only hope that he WOULD wait for her. His kisses had finally forced her to acknowledge that she did indeed love him deeply, far more than she had ever loved anyone in her entire life. At last, now that she considered herself well past the prime of life, she had found true love. How much she had missed all those years with Rupert! She would not declare them wasted, because Rupert HAD been a dear friend, but now she knew what might have been, had things been different.

That night she shed a few bitter tears into her pillow. Not only had she been denied romantic love, but she had never had a real girlfriend either. She had never been as close to another woman in her entire life as Mia was with her friend Lilly. Indeed, looking back over what seemed a lifetime of loneliness, she had had no other female ever in whom to confide, with whom to giggle, cry or laugh, with whom she could simply be herself. In short, she had never experienced friendship the way she was finding it could be with Mia and increasingly with Charlotte as well. Although she was extremely sorry she had not known that sort of friendship before, she was overjoyed that she was learning the delights of it now.

In spite of the misgivings of the others, the session of Parliament passed without incident. What with trying to deal with Rupert's cousin to change the plumbing he had begun wrong in Mia's suite, making the final arrangements for the birthday party and coming up with a plan for Mia's first few months in Genovia, Clarisse had no time the next week to even think about the possible plot.

Following Mia's birthday ball, the Parliament session the next morning where Clarisse was horrified by the announcement made by the Viscount Mabrey, then the meeting in the throne room with Mia, Clarisse's nerves were stretched almost to their limit. Mia had unwittingly found the peephole into the chambers of Parliament, and had witnessed the announcement of 'another heir' to the throne and the invoking of the law requiring her to marry within a month. It had taken skillful handling on Clarisse's part, and the revelation of perhaps more than she had intended, to calm Mia down. The girl, however, had risen to the occasion wonderfully, proving to Clarisse that her grand-daughter did indeed have what was needed to be queen.

That evening, after Mia had retired for the night citing jet lag and exhaustion from the previous late night at the ball, Clarisse was in her suite when Joseph and Charlotte were announced.

"Your Majesty," Charlotte said gravely when Olivia had left the room, "I'm sorry to tell you, but you received another letter today. I intercepted it, and showed it to Joseph."

Clarisse closed her eyes for a moment and clenched her fists, then took a deep breath and nodded. "May I see it?"

"Are you sure?" Joseph asked gently.

She looked at him, surprised, then held out her hand. Charlotte placed the paper in it. Clarisse braced herself, and began to read. Once more, the letter-writer said that although Clarisse had not danced quite as often at last night's ball as at other balls, she STILL was not acting in a manner befitting a widow. Her movements were much too enticing when she was dancing with other women's husbands. As for her dances with Joseph, did she really have no idea of the proper way to behave? She was the queen. She should not be seducing someone not of royal blood. He should be too far beneath her notice. She should just give up the throne, she should abdicate in Prince Pierre's favour. HE should be king, if the new ruler had to be a Renaldi in order to fulfill the silly view that just because a Renaldi had been on the throne for five hundred years, the family should continue to rule. Personally, though, the writer felt that it was high time for another family to reign. 'By rights, the ruler of our country should be a true MALE Genovian, of royal blood, ready and able and more than willing to serve his country as King. Long live the KING! The old laws of Genovia were written for a reason - women simply are not constitutionally capable of running a country if they do not have a husband to guide them! This has been all too obvious during recent years after the death of King Rupert, may he rest in peace.'

Clarisse stared down at the letter, and unwanted tears swam in her eyes. How many people in Genovia believed this? It was not really possible that the author of the letters was alone in his or her beliefs, but how many others might share them? "Well," she finally said, unsteadily, "from this we can probably cross Paolo off our list, and underline Viscount Mabrey and the von Trokens as the most probable culprits, would you not agree?"

"Yes, except for the part about Prince Pierre," Joseph said.

"And I still think it could be someone who is interested or is pretending an interest in Joseph," Charlotte spoke up. At his glance of amused tolerance, she lifted her chin. "Well, I DO! Why else talk about how her Majesty is dancing ... SEDUCTIVELY with you! I've seen you both dancing many, many times, and ..." she broke off.

"And?" Clarisse prompted her when Charlotte remained silent.

Blatantly changing the subject, Charlotte said, "Your Majesty, you DO believe that there can be very few people in Genovia who would believe such things about you, don't you?"

"Oh, I ..." Clarisse was caught off-guard by the question, and found herself at a loss for words.

"Charlotte is not merely saying that in order to divert you from what she was saying," Joseph said smoothly, flashing an amused glance at Charlotte which told her he was fully aware of her tactics. "She is perfectly right. To again change the topic, I do not believe now that the writer or writers of these letters can be behind a plot of treason. I admit it is possible that there IS a connection, however remote, between the letters and what Viscount Mabrey revealed in Parliament this morning, but I do not think it necessary to act on the letters at this time. I think it safe to concentrate on getting things with Princess Mia settled and keeping an eye on Mabrey and his nephew."

"Yes, and to do that, I've invited Lord Deveraux to stay here at the palace with us," Clarisse said. "He is to arrive in the late morning. It is far better to have your enemy right in front of you where it is possible to keep an eye on him."

"I will hang him in the courtyard by his toes, if you wish," Joseph offered.

Charlotte chuckled, and Clarisse smiled as she shook her head at him. "Thank you, but I'm sure that won't be necessary. That is, I HOPE that won't be necessary. What do you know of Lord Deveraux, Joseph?"

"Not a thing, your Majesty, except that he is twenty-one years old, and is Mabrey's nephew through the Viscount's deceased brother. The two brothers married two sisters. After his parents died when the lad was six, Lord Deveraux lived a few more years with Mabrey and his wife. When the Viscountess passed away, Mabrey sent the boy to England. I have put out word that I wish information on him, and hope to hear more soon."

"Meanwhile," Clarisse turned to Charlotte, "we must go about finding a suitable husband for Mia. Could you ...?"

"I've already begun assembling pictures and biographies, your Majesty. I should be ready by tomorrow evening," Charlotte said.

"That would be splendid. Mia's friend Lilly will be here tomorrow as well. I DO hope all will go well!"

"We shall endeavour to make that hope a reality, your Majesty," and Joseph and Charlotte took their leave.

The next few weeks passed in a whirlwind of activity. In the middle of her stress trying to plan Mia's wedding down to the last detail, Clarisse could hardly believe it when Joseph told her one day in the gazebo that she was to forget the wedding for a moment, and asked her to think about them bringing their friendship out of the shadows. How could he possibly ask her to think about herself at a time like this? The look in his eyes had her melting, however, and she tenderly touched his cheek as she promised to give herself time to think about what he had said. She truly intended to keep that promise, too, but events quickly escalated and soon it was two days before Mia's wedding and she had had only a few moments at night before falling asleep. Yet Joseph, while they were dancing dreamily to the music excerpts she was to select for the wedding reception, asked if she had thought about them.

"Yes, I have,"she answered. She HAD thought about what he had said, but she had come to no clear decision except that it must wait until Mia was married. THEN Clarisse would have time to think about herself and her wishes for the rest of her life. When she was no longer queen, when Joseph was no longer HER Head of Security, that would be when it would be safe to talk about bringing their friendship out of the shadows.

When Joseph walked out on her without letting her explain her reasons fully to him, Clarisse wondered how anyone could live trying to bear such anguish with grace and dignity. He had NEVER thought of her as just as queen? He had stayed with her so long because she was the someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with? And he had ... he had just LEFT? He truly thought that because she would not give him the answer today that he wanted, she was telling him she wanted to remain just his queen? Clarisse wanted to scream, cry, rant and carry on ... instead, she had to bury her feelings until her grand-daughter was married. It was her duty. How she was beginning to HATE the word duty!

Months afterward, Clarisse realized that Charlotte had been more solicitous the following two days than ever before. And when she tackled Charlotte about it almost a year later, Charlotte smiled and admitted that yes, she had walked into the ballroom at the top of the steps that day while Clarisse was speaking earnestly to Joseph below, and had overheard what both had said. "So you felt sorry for me?" Clarisse demanded, but her smile was tremulous.

"No. I just wanted to help you however I could."

"Oh, Charlotte!" and Clarisse hugged the other woman tightly in gratitude. It felt so good to be able to be comfortable hugging someone, and she had Mia, Charlotte, and, of course, Joseph to thank for that!

For now, however, Clarisse only had Charlotte's help to weather the storm brought on when Mia was videotaped spending the night by the lake with Nicholas, and Lilly and Charlotte bent over backwards to assist both the queen and the princess the day of the wedding. Although her heart was breaking over Joseph's refusal to speak with her, Clarisse couldn't help but think that Mia was a beautiful bride, and the setting gorgeous. She truly hoped her grand-daughter would be happy.

With Mia partway up the aisle, suddenly everything began to unravel. Again Clarisse felt that her control of the situation was slipping. Leaving Charlotte in the full cathedral to stall for time, Clarisse hastened outside to find her grand-daughter and to give her what counsel from the heart she could. Clarisse had never been prouder of Mia than she was in the time following their short talk, not even the night the teenager had stood dripping wet in jeans and hooded top in front of a roomful of guests at the Independence Day Ball and announced her decision to be the Princess of Genovia. Standing at the back of the cathedral with Charlotte, Clarisse was so happy for her grand-daughter when the members of Parliament unanimously stood and voted in favour of Mia's motion to abolish the marriage law as it applied to present and future queens of Genovia.

Then Charlotte approached Clarisse, holding out her earphone and saying, "Your Majesty, the princess would like a word ..."

Almost before she knew it, Clarisse's life totally changed, definitely for the better! In moments she was walking down the aisle at Joseph's side, they were standing in front of the Archbishop, she was promising to love, honour and cherish Joseph forevermore ... and their dream of happiness together was fulfilled. She and Joseph were married. Finally.

-

The afternoon after Clarisse's and Joseph's wedding, Charlotte met with Mia to tell her that the envoys from Spain and Portugal were waiting offer their official good-byes to the queen.

Mia said flippantly, "Don't they know she's on her honeymoon?"

Charlotte smiled. "I believe they mean YOU."

"Me? Oh! Oh, right. Okay. By the way, Charlotte, can I talk to you later?"

"Certainly, your majesty. I'm at your disposal."

"Charlotte? Aren't I still your highness until I'm officially crowned Queen?" asked Mia.

"I suppose ... I was just practising." Charlotte grinned.

"Ah. Then practice saying 'Mia' instead of either, okay? ESPECIALLY when we're alone!" Mia was very glad her grandmother had had her fairy-tale ending, but she was feeling more and more alone now, herself, especially with the absence of Lord Nicholas, who had apparently disappeared after leaving the church the day before. "Guess I'd better not keep Spain and Portugal waiting. Where will you be when I get back?"

"Here, your hi ... umm, Mia," Charlotte mumbled her name.

-

"We should probably get up," Clarisse murmured.

Joseph mumbled something and settled closer to her, his eyes still closed.

"Joseph? We should get up," she repeated, nudging him.

His arm tightened around her. "Maybe tomorrow."

Clarisse chuckled lightly. "You can't mean to stay in bed all day! What will everyone think?"

"That we got married yesterday," he muttered, nuzzling her neck.

"Joseph!" She tried to sound indignant, but it was hard when all she wanted to do was press closer to him. She had wanted this for so long, yet had resisted him, thinking it necessary to put her country ahead of her own desires. It was strange to find that now she could indulge herself. And it was hard to not think about Mia and how things were with her ... and to wonder if there was another letter in the mail following yesterday's surprise wedding ... well, perhaps it wasn't that hard not to think about it. Joseph was now running his finger over Clarisse's lips while she was trying to think. "Joseph, that is VERY distracting! Why are you doing that?" she finally demanded, her whole body quivering at his nearness.

"Because I can," he replied simply, stroking slowly along her bottom lip again. "I'm trying to convince myself that this is not a dream ... that you are really here, in my arms, and no one in the entire world would question it. I love you, Clarisse."

"Oh, Joseph, I love YOU!" and she promptly put her problems out of her mind and concentrated on loving her husband thoroughly.

-

When Mia came back from meeting with the Spanish and Portuguese officials, Charlotte was just returning to the office herself with an armful of mail which she deposited on the desk. Mia looked at the stack of letters and sighed as she sat down at the desk. "I have to read all those myself?" she asked.

"We'll go through them together, your ... uh, Mia," Charlotte promised.

"Good. Charlotte, any idea when Grandma and Joe are going to surface? I was hoping to talk to them about the coronation."

"I don't think you can expect to see your grandmother or Joseph for a while, to be honest," Charlotte kept a straight face valiantly.

"They have to come out to eat sometime, don't they?" asked Mia.

"No. I had a little fridge moved in there, well stocked, while we were having supper last night. They probably won't emerge for a couple of days. After all, neither thought this day would ever come, until you managed to turn things around so wonderfully. I'm SO glad you thought of it. You've made those two so happy!" Charlotte almost beamed at Mia as she seated herself in her usual chair by the desk.

Mia looked at the letters with a glum expression on her face. "Well, I AM happy for them, but ..." her voice trailed off for a moment. "It's just ... I'm wondering if I'm ever going to see Nicholas again. Whenever the phone rings, I keep hoping it's him." She sighed, then looked up suddenly and said, "Charlotte, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Of course," Charlotte replied, but her face changed slightly. She had some experience with Mia's 'personal' questions, and was not at all sure she wanted to answer them. But how could she refuse her queen's request? If only she had learned to lie without giving herself away! She could only hope that Mia was not as discerning as her grandmother was.

Sure enough, Mia's question was personal, VERY personal. "Have you ever been in love? I mean, REALLY in love? The kind of love you know is real because his kiss causes your foot to pop, as I said when I was a teenager?" and she chuckled.

Charlotte's face flushed, and she looked down. "I don't ... Actually, I've never ..." her voice trailed off.

Mia was aghast. "You've never been in love, or never been kissed? Which?" she demanded.

After a pause, Charlotte said quietly, still not looking at Mia but rather at her hands clasped in her lap, "Our society is not like the American one, you know. By the time you were sixteen, Mia, you had had a crush on at least one boy that I knew of, and had thought you were in love with another. I never had the opportunity to meet many boys without being surrounded by other people." Then she looked up. "It wasn't until I went to college after my parents' death that I had the same sort of freedoms you had in high school. But by then, I was, well, too shy, I suppose, and too old to change."

"Too old?" Mia asked incredulously. "Charlotte, you're the one who told me that GRANDMA wasn't too old! You're only in your thirties, aren't you? That's not old! Have you NEVER had even a crush on someone? Not even JOE? I thought EVERY female had a crush on Joe at some point in her life!"

Charlotte's face flushed deeper, and she looked away again, not answering.

Mia grinned and exclaimed, "Ah HA! You HAVE had a crush on someone! Who? Is it really Joe? Tell me! I've told you all about mine! Come on, Charlotte, who do you like?"

Then there was a tap at the door. "Excuse me, Princess Mia, I mean, your Majesty," Brigitte stuck her head into the office. "Your uncle wishes to speak with you."

"My uncle? Oh!" Mia jumped up. "Where is he?"

"Right here," Pierre strode into the room, smiling, and kissed Mia lightly on the forehead.

Charlotte scrambled to her feet and bowed. "Pr-Prince Pierre ..."

At the tremble evident in Charlotte's voice, Mia's eyes narrowed, and she studied the other woman closely. Charlotte didn't really look at Pierre as he smiled and took her hand to kiss it gallantly.

"And here's Charlotte, my mother's invaluable assistant!" he said. "Tell me, what has my niece been saying to you to make you so red?"

Charlotte tugged her hand out of his grasp with a gasp. "N-nothing!" she stammered. "Please, ex-excuse me!" and she vanished from the room before Mia could stop her.

"You scared her off, Uncle Pierre!" Mia exclaimed. Then her face lit up. "Wow, I wonder if YOU are the one ..." she broke off suddenly.

"If I'm the one what? Who?" Pierre asked, puzzled. "What were you two talking about?"

"Nothing," Mia said hastily, just as Charlotte had. Then she changed the subject quickly. "You wanted to speak with me?"

"Yes, actually. I need a copy of a letter the family received from Parliament after I sent MY letter to them with my notice of abdication. Mother must have it somewhere, but I understand she and Joe are incommunicado for a few MORE days. I was hoping you might have some idea whether it might be in her desk or a filing cabinet somewhere."

"I haven't a clue. Charlotte might know, though." Mia considered the various drawers in the desk. She tried the bottom one which looked the right size to hold files, but it was locked. "I wonder where the key is? I sort of hate rummaging through someone else's desk."

"Well, never mind. It'll wait until next week, I suppose. May I make a date with you the Monday after the coronation?" Pierre raised an eyebrow as he looked at his niece.

"If it's for the letter, you'd better make that date with either Grandma or Charlotte," Mia grinned. "And if you choose Grandma, it'll be late in the day!"

"I really should be getting back by noon that day ..." Pierre began slowly.

"OOOkay," Mia nodded. "Charlotte and I usually start about 9, so you can come any time after that, Uncle Pierre."

"It's a date." he nodded.

The following Monday, Mia walked into the office and groaned at the sight of her desk with a pile of letters on it. Charlotte looked up as she opened another one and smiled at her. "Good morning, your Majesty!"

"Morning. So much mail, Charlotte! How did Grandma cope?"

"We just go through them one at a time," Charlotte said, skimming another letter and putting it in a pile. "I'm almost finished sorting these."

"Thanks." Mia sat down at the desk. "By the way, I DID tell you Uncle Pierre was coming in this morning, didn't I?" she asked nonchalantly, knowing full well she had neglected to pass on that information to her assistant.

Charlotte fumbled with the next letter for a moment, ducking her head so that her hair swung over her face making it impossible to see her expression. "Why, no..."

"Mmmhmm," Mia said.

Standing up, leaving the final unopened letters scattered on the desk, Charlotte said quickly, "If you'll excuse me, your Majesty, I must ... I have to ... I'll be back ..." and she vanished from the room.

Mia sighed. "Oh, Charlotte!" she muttered to herself. "How are you going to ever be happy if you run away from him all the time?" Leaning back in her chair, Mia gave herself up to her wonderful daydreams of a happy life with her own love, who had returned two days before.

"Good morning, my queen!"

Mia was startled by her uncle's hearty voice, and she jumped. "Oh, hi, Uncle Pierre. Sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

"No, you were lost in thought," he grinned. "Or asleep."

She frowned teasingly. "I could order your head chopped off, you know."

"Right. Now," he said, briskly returning to business. "Have you found my letter?"

"No, and I forgot to ask Grandma or Charlotte," Mia made a face, inwardly congratulating herself on her brilliant, Academy-award winning performance. "Charlotte just stepped out, but wait just a minute and I'll get her back." Going to the door, she sent a footman to request Charlotte presence's again.

"So, how is your first day as Genovia's official queen going so far, Mia?" Pierre asked as he relaxed in a chair while they awaited Charlotte's return.

"I must say, I never thought there'd be so much mail!" she indicated the pile on the desk. "Look, they're all addressed to Queen Amelia!" She rummaged through them. "Wait, here's one that's a blank envelope."

"Well, I'm sure they're all yours," Pierre smiled. "Even without your name on it!"

"Hmm," Mia was unaware she sounded just like her grandmother at that moment as she turned the unaddressed envelope over. "The letter's not even sealed. At least it's typed so it's easy to read." She opened it, and stared for a moment at it.

Just then, Charlotte was back with the footman. She stopped just inside the doorway, and said, "You sent for me?"

Mia didn't answer. Her eyes were growing larger as she read the letter, and her hand began to shake. Charlotte was immediately by her side, as was Pierre.

"Mia!" Charlotte took the letter from Mia's hand, glancing at it briefly to ascertain that it was indeed one of the anonymous letters. "I told you I would go through these with you ... Please, pay no attention to this! Mia, I'm so sorry I wasn't here to ... I should have sorted them first, and I could have intercepted this one the way I did the others ..."

"Let me see that," Pierre plucked it in turn from Charlotte's hand, having seen a few sentences himself.

Mia sat down limply, staring straight ahead. Pierre read through the letter, his frown deepening, then he looked at Charlotte. "You've seen letters like these before?"

Charlotte almost flinched at the steel in his voice. "Yes," she whispered. "We wanted her to tell you ..."

"Who? My mother? My mother has been receiving letters like this? The same sort of poisonous ...?"

"Yes. For five years now ... but I never saw one until this past Christmas."

Pierre bit back an expletive, then said to Mia, "Mia, I do NOT want the throne, despite what this says. I am very happy with my work with the children in Libitz. YOU certainly did not show contempt of our country as this says and as Mabrey said last week! And as for Mother, she married for love, and we all KNOW that! Joseph has loved her for years, and because of you, she finally allowed herself to accept his love and return it. Charlotte ..."

"Mia, I don't feel at all the way this letter claims!" Charlotte spoke up to defend herself, her hand on Mia's arm as she crouched beside the young woman. "This isn't the first letter accusing your grandmother of turning me into a slave and not allowing me a life of my own! I LOVE my life here, doing what I'm doing! No, I'm not pining away for Joseph! To be honest, I care about ..." she stopped abruptly, then hurriedly said, "I am not in love with Joseph. Really, I'm NOT!" her voice broke a bit, and Mia looked at her.

"Really and truly?" she whispered, wanting desperately to believe the older woman.

"Certainly not Joseph!" Charlotte assured her. "Pay no attention to this, Mia, and don't take it to heart. No one else in the country could possibly believe what is written here! This entire letter is full of utter nonsense!"

A faint smile crossed Mia's face. "Now you sound like Grandma."

"I've spent enough years with her, it's no wonder. Mia, I love Queen Clarisse as if she were my mother, and Joseph has always been, well, fatherly."

Mia felt a fading of the chill that had invaded her body when reading the letter. Her naturally resilient character began to reassert itself, and she couldn't resist another crooked smile and teasing Charlotte again. "But you said you thought Joseph was HOT when I asked!"

"MIA!" Charlotte went scarlet and straightened up. How could the girl have said such a thing in front of ... of ... Charlotte was mortified. "That was a long time ago, and even then, you PUSHED me into saying it! I am not now and I have never EVER been, well, seriously attracted to Joseph in that way, and that is the truth!"

Pierre cleared his throat, and the women looked at him. Indeed, Mia had forgotten his presence. He eyed Charlotte's flushed face, and wondered what was behind her embarrassment, but pushed aside his questions in favour of finding out more about the letters his mother had been receiving unbeknownst to him. "Charlotte, who is sending the letters?"

"We don't know."

"We?" he questioned.

"Your mother, of course. I found out at Christmas and convinced Queen Clarisse to tell Joseph, and we told the Prime Minister last month. Joseph has some leads, but of course we won't hear anything for a while."

Mia shivered and stood up. "I'm going to find Mom. I know Lilly's out seeing the city with Captain Kelly, or I'd talk with her. I wish I could talk to Grandma and Joe, but ... well, maybe I can find Mom. This is all too creepy. I do hope Joe figures it out, soon!"

"It probably won't make you feel any better, Mia," Charlotte said, looking up from the letter she had been re-reading, "but I really don't think this was meant for you. I'll just give it to Joseph next time I see him."

"It certainly doesn't make me feel better knowing it was meant for GRANDMA!"

Charlotte smiled understandingly, and slipped the letter into her pocket. "Now, you sent for me? I assume it wasn't about this."

"Oh, right," Pierre seemed to snap out of a trance. "Do you know where Mother might have kept the copy of my abdication letter and the Parliament's response?"

"Certainly, sir." Charlotte efficiently unlocked the desk drawer, drew out a folder, and handed it to him. "If there's nothing else ...?"

"Thank you," he said absently, already leafing through the papers.

Charlotte and Mia slipped out of the room. "Charlotte?" Mia said outside. "Thank you. Again."

"It's my job, your maj ... MIA!" Charlotte corrected herself.

"You're going to keep helping me, aren't you? The way you help Grandma?"

"If that is your wish," Charlotte nodded. "For a while, anyway, until you decide you want someone else."

"Or until YOU decide you want someone else!" Mia again couldn't resist teasing the assistant, who flushed so beautifully when disconcerted. "Charlotte, I know you are busy trying to keep up with such a hectic schedule as we've had over the last month. I think we definitely have to give you a break, but ..." Mia's voice trailed off.

"Not yet," Charlotte put her hand on the young girl's shoulder. "Not until the mystery of the letters is finally cleared."

"Thanks, Charlotte," Mia gave her a quick hug. "I'm going to find Mom."

Ironically, it was when Mia spoke with her mother that the mystery of the letters was cleared up. Mia sent for Clarisse, Joe, Charlotte and Sebastian Motaz that afternoon, and a tearful Helen, supported by her new husband, admitted that she had sent the first letters to Clarisse.

"I knew you didn't make Philippe divorce me," Helen said to Clarisse, "but you DID put a wedge between us, making him feel that his country was more important than I was. That bothered me. Then, when you came and more or less took my daughter away from me, too ... well, I just thought it was a good way to get even with you! I spoke with a woman at the ball five years ago ... a Baroness von Troken ..." she broke off when the others exclaimed at the name. "What?"

"Keep going," Joseph said evenly, trying to control his temper.

"Well, I told her how I was feeling, and she suggested I type you some letters, Clarisse, and she would see that you got them and would have no idea who wrote them. I don't know WHY I did what I did, I was just, well, upset, and scared, because I was losing Mia. Oh, not right away, but I knew that as soon as she was twenty-one, she'd be moving here. You two were getting so close, and I felt left out, and it was very frustrating! I was angry, and I took the Baroness up on her suggestion, and wrote the first letter. When I never heard anything, I knew she had been right, and that I could write letters and you would never know who was doing it. I wrote a few more, and sent them to the Baroness who delivered them, and wrote back to tell me that I still wasn't suspected at all. She urged me to keep writing them, but I felt too guilty about it, especially when I realized that I really wasn't losing Mia after all. Then, when Patrick and I got engaged ... well, I just stopped. I realized I had been acting like a spoiled brat. I AM sorry. Will you ever forgive me for causing you such heartache?" she looked at Clarisse hopefully.

"But the letters are still coming!" Mia said, her face white. "I got one this morning, and now you're saying you stopped writing them FOUR YEARS AGO? Who is writing them now?"

"Mia, my dear child, why didn't you tell me another letter had come?" Clarisse cried out.

Helen looked stunned. "Please, you must believe me!" she stammered finally. "I haven't written a letter in four years! Really, I haven't!"

Joseph cleared his throat, and everyone looked at him. "I do believe it is most probably that Joy von Troken is the culprit now." he said. "I had thought the latter ones seemed different. It fits. She delivered the first letters ... and kept writing new ones. She probably assumed she could continue blaming them on the American who had divorced the Prince."

Sebastian Motaz grinned broadly. "At LAST we might have a reason to throw them out of the country!" he said with relish.

Helen turned to Clarisse and said shakily, "Please, Clarisse, please say you forgive me for my cruelty. Perhaps if I hadn't ..." She broke down in tears, and her husband put his arms around her in support. Although he said nothing, his love and support were obvious.

Clarisse hesitated only a moment, exchanging a glance with her own husband. Then she held out her arms and Helen fell into them, sobbing. Mia swallowed hard, and looked at Charlotte who had tears in her eyes as well.

"So," Mia said at last. "What do I do if we find out that the Baroness DID write the letters? Do I say 'Off with your head?' Do I banish her, and her husband with her? Do I imprison her in a deep, dark dungeon? Do I send her for rehabilitation and recycling so she can become a new, improved, USEFUL member of the Genovian society?"

Everyone smiled at her various suggestions. Still, since Helen's apologies had been accepted and her actions forgiven, it seemed hard to really do much of anything to Baroness von Troken, assuming it was possible to verify her guilt in the matter of the letters. When the woman was questioned, however, she broke down and confessed it all, saying that it had seemed perfect. Her niece, who was strongly attracted to Prince Pierre, had helped her write some of the letters, in the hopes that perhaps he might reconsider his abdication, return to take the throne, and marry her, thus providing the von Trokens with the connection to royalty they had coveted for years. She also admitted that her niece had suggested they put in Joseph's name as a red herring, "but all THAT did, it seemed, was put the idea in your head that you could marry him!" Joy spat at Clarisse. "My niece wasn't interested in HIM, she loves your SON!"

"Your niece?" Clarisse asked, trying to remain composed and not give in to the rage boiling inside her.

"I believe she is referring to Elsie Kentworthy, my dear." Joseph said in an undertone to his wife.

"Elsie Kentworthy is related to you?" Mia stared at the Baroness.

"My youngest sister's daughter," Joy von Troken tossed her head.

"It might be wise for the von Trokens AND their niece to remove themselves from Genovia for an indefinite amount of time, don't you think, your Majesty?" Sebastian Motaz looked at Mia who turned to Clarisse, who nodded imperceptibly.

Mia turned to Joy von Troken and said slowly, "Why do you all hate me?"

"If it weren't for YOU, the throne could have been MINE!" the woman hissed venomously. "Once you entered the picture, I realized it might not be possible without getting rid of you. I had hoped the letters would work on YOU, as obviously your grandmother was too well protected to be harmed by them! Had you failed to marry, Lord Nicholas would have been king. I would have left Siegfried and married the Viscount Mabrey since he was the Lord's uncle and undoubtably would have been his close advisor, and I was afraid that that might be as close as I would get to the throne! But you've all ruined my plans! Elsie tried her best to help, with the Viscount's assistance, but it was no use. I am GLAD to leave Genovia! I spit on you all, and I gladly wipe the dust off my shoes!"

Thankful when she did not carry out her threats literally, the small group watched silently as the Baroness stalked out of the palace, shaking off Shades' assistance.

"I didn't know Mrs. Cowt left any dust in here," Mia observed. "Still, it seems a lot fresher here now than it did a few minutes ago!"

"I can hardly believe it's over ..." Clarisse said at last, looking at Joseph and Charlotte, then the others.

Charlotte and Sebastian smiled, then left the family together to continue the healing process.

Many changes were seen in Genovia the first autumn of Queen Amelia's reign. Women were admitted into Parliament, Charlotte being one of the first to don the traditional robe and wig. Her first portfolio was that of Minister of Social Services, so that she could oversee the building of the Genovian Children's Centre in Pyrus for the Children's Society of Genovia. It turned out that Prince Pierre was asked to return to Pyrus to work at the Children's Centre, and after much prayerful consideration, he did so, moving back to the palace into his old rooms.

These changes, of course, meant that Charlotte and Pierre began to see much more of each other. Mia watched closely, as did Clarisse, and the two privately discussed the growing relationship on occasion.

"I'm SO glad you approve, Grandma!" Mia sighed happily. "I wonder if they've kissed yet?"

Clarisse laughed. "Ah, the impatience of youth!" she teased her grand-daughter.

"Well, Charlotte told me she had never been kissed before."

"Really?" Clarisse was surprised by that. "Tell me, just how did you happen upon that subject? She has only been working with you for a few months! I worked with her for years and never once did kissing come into the conversation!"

"Oh, Grandma, you're just too polite and genteel and stuff to come right out and ASK what you want to know!" Mia almost giggled. "She told me after your wedding. At least, I think she did. Uncle Pierre interrupted us, and Charlotte took off. That's when I guessed she liked him."

"Oh, I see," Clarisse nodded. "Come to think of it, I DID question Charlotte about love, once. Rather, I TRIED to question her. She fled the room in a hurry. No wonder, really, if it was Pierre who held her interest! You know, once I might have been a trifle dismayed at the thought of those two together, but no longer. Charlotte is a dear friend, and I must say, I do hope they get together. I would love to have her as a daughter-in-law!"

"Personally, I think it rocks that all of your friends end up being part of your family! Wouldn't it be great to have a happy ending for EVERYONE? You and Joe, Nick and I, Charlotte and Uncle Pierre ... hey, would I have to call her AUNT Charlotte, or do you think I'm getting old enough to drop the Uncle and just call him Pierre now?"

"I THINK you should wait until we know something for certain, you impertinent child!" Clarisse chuckled.

"Ooh, and I just thought of something. Sebastian Motaz is one friend you haven't claimed as family yet! Wonder how you could accomplish that? Perhaps his daughter Marisa could marry Cousin Pooky?"

"I wouldn't wish HIM on anyone, especially a friend!" Clarisse made a face and Mia laughed.

One evening shortly before Christmas, when Clarisse and Joseph were entertaining Charlotte and Pierre in their rooms, the younger couple began to argue over ways to run the Children's Centre. Clarisse and Charlotte were sitting together on the couch while Joseph lounged in one chair and Pierre sat in the other. Pierre was leaning forward, his eyes bright with enthusiasm as he stated his case. Charlotte leaned forward to glare at him, not backing down in the slightest.

Clarisse looked over at Joseph and her eyes twinkled, seeing the answering gleam of amusement in her husband's eyes. Neither said a word, just watched the combatants silently.

"Frankly, I think you've forgotten what it's like to be a child, if you ever knew, your highness!" Charlotte finally declared loftily.

"Oh, really?" Pierre countered. "Not to get off topic, Charlotte, but you know I ASKED you to call me Pierre!"

"Oh. Right. I forgot, but how could I possibly call you by your name when you are trying to lord it over me with your vast and superior knowledge, your Eminence? Your Grace. Your Lordship. Sir High and Mighty son of the former Queen of Genovia ..." Charlotte grinned teasingly.

Pierre leaned past Clarisse to take a swipe at Charlotte, but she jumped up and out of the way. He lunged after her, and with a faint shriek of laughter, Charlotte evaded him again, running to the French doors, which proved to be locked.

Mia walked in as the two dodged around her and past the area where Joe and Clarisse were sitting. The young queen shook her head as she watched their antics, then said to her grandmother, "HOW old are they again? Can't you control your children?"

Clarisse chuckled as again a breathless, laughing Charlotte darted past her, pursued by Pierre. "You'll see why that is impossible when you have your own," she said to Mia.

Charlotte tried to escape by hiding in a closet and holding the door shut, but Pierre wrenched it open, followed her in and obviously caught her by the renewed squeals the others heard. Then there was a sudden silence.

Joseph got to his feet. "I believe that is our cue to vacate the premises," he said. "Come, my dear. You too, Mia." and he helped his wife to her feet and they started out into the corridor. "Mia?" Joseph called back when the girl didn't automatically follow them.

"You're sure it's all right?" Mia looked a little worried.

"Mia, you were caught in a closet once with Nicholas. Was it a pleasant experience to be discovered?" Joseph asked mildly.

"No," Mia grimaced.

"Then we will leave the two lovebirds to do their billing and cooing in private," Clarisse smiled. "I am SO happy Charlotte has finally consented to marry Pierre."

"Elsie Kentworthy isn't, I understand," laughed Mia. "She was still hoping, in spite of not even being in Genovia any more!"

"The very idea!" Clarisse scoffed. "And have Pierre even REMOTELY related to the von Trokens? It was not to be thought of! Besides, Charlotte's a dear. I want to keep her in the family."

"And neither of us could have managed without her help all these years, could we?" Mia grinned.