A/N: This is an old story, so it's finished...no waiting for long periods of time (unless something comes up that keeps me from posting that is lol). Some of you have read the story, others haven't, so I'm going to put in a warning. It's dark. I've been dubbed the Queen of Angst for a reason, so keep that in mind when reading. Some of the things that happened to Clarisse as described in her diary/journal entries are things that actually happened in the past, so I didn't make those things up. Anyway, you've been warned. It's M for a very good reason (and not just the C/J smutty bits!).

March 1st ~ my wedding day, and I am scared to death. I have only met Prince Rupert once when he almost ran over me as I crossed the street. He yelled at me, telling me to watch where I was going and bow before royalty.

I have heard rumors that he has a rather unlikable personality. What am I to do? Maybe those rumors are wrong. Maybe in time I will grow to love him. Still, my fear will not subside.

Father is very pleased with himself. For the loyal sacrifice of his only daughter, he has received a seat in parliament. Mother has taught me, the best she can, how to be the perfect wife to a Crown Prince. I blushed when she gave me the talk about the duties of a wife behind the bedroom doors. She assures me that it can be quite pleasurable. Still…it's rather frightening.

I am looking out my window at the snow covered grounds of the home I have lived in for nineteen years; a home I shall never return to. The sun is just rising and casting a orange glow on the snow making it sparkle like tiny diamonds. So cold for one's wedding day; yet so beautiful.

I hear mother calling so I shall have to end my thoughts for now.

March 2nd ~ the day after my wedding. Oh horrid day! Or rather; oh horrid night! The embarrassment, the humiliation, the shame.

First my day, yesterday after arriving at the palace, started off by my being examined by the royal family physician to make sure of my…well… that I've never been with a man as we had assured them I hadn't. They needed proof!

Then…the wedding. Not what a girl dreams of. The Prince seemed bored and rushed the Archbishop through the ceremony. The kiss – oh my. A quick, but rough, peck on the cheek. I was very glad when the end came. We were escorted outside the cathedral and helped into the waiting royal carriage. The reception was being held at the palace so a parade was led through the city. My arm grew weary after several minutes of waving, but I continued on until we were beyond the palace walls.

After the reception, which lasted way into the night, I was escorted to my room. The same maids that had helped me prepare for the wedding, were there to once again prepare me. Helping me from my dress, they led me to the bath chamber where the huge marble tub had been filled with hot steaming water scented with an odd mix of spices that I had never smelled before and wasn't particularly fond of. When I asked what it was, I was told it was part of a long standing ritual of the royal family that spanned back to the very first King of Genovia's bride.

After the bath, the maids carefully patted my skin dry then led me into the dressing room where they helped me into a white silk robe. I protested at not having anything other than the robe to cover my body, but I was again told it was tradition. Setting me at the vanity, they took my hair from its elaborate bun and brushed it out, leaving it to flow freely down my back.

Nervously, I let them help me up, thinking that they were taking me back to my bedroom. Not our destination. I was once again led out of the room, down the corridor into another corridor, one that was very dark and one that I couldn't find again if I had to. I was then blindfolded and led the rest of the way, stumbling along. After hearing a door close, the blindfold was removed and I was led further into a strangely dark room with nothing but a huge bed. I swallowed as I felt my stomach knotting. Trying to understand what was happening, I turned wide eyes to my maids only to be told once again…ritual.

Looking back at the bed, I realized there were no covers. Nothing but a white sheet covering the mattress. My mind began to scream, 'Oh heaven what have you put me into,' as my knees grew weak. Feeling the maids hands on my arms, I watched myself move closer to the bed. Cool air touched my bare skin as they untied my robe and slid it from my body. Instinctively I raised my arms to cover myself, but the older maid pulled them away and told me that wasn't allowed. As my mind reeled, I felt a soft object under my head and realized I had been placed on the bed. Lying in the middle of the huge mattress, I became aware of my body trembling.

Hearing the door open, I turned fearful eyes to see who it was and was horrified to see Prince Rupert being led in, the Archbishop, King and Queen following. Trying to cover my nakedness again, my hands were pulled away once more by the maids. Tears fell down my cheeks as I closed my eyes.

Lying stiff, I felt my legs being forced apart and then a weight on my body. Knowing it was Rupert, I braced myself. There were no kisses, no touches as my mother had described. There was only pain as Rupert joined our bodies, and the sound of the Archbishop chanting something in Latin as he stood over us.

I don't remember going back to my room, or how I got there. All I remember is hearing my name softly whispered before gentle hands wrapped me in a blanket and two strong arms lifted me up. I suppose I was in shock because I made no attempts to struggle against whoever had me. I kept my eyes closed for fear of what would happen next.

Mia closed her grandmother's diary and wiped at the tears on her cheeks. Feeling a chill run down her spine, she gulped air into her lungs desperately trying to calm herself. Her grandmother had told her that she had grown fond of King Rupert, that they had become friends. How? How had she overcome the horrid embarrassment?

Knowing that she needed to continue reading, she pulled the soft throw resting over her legs closer around her and closed her eyes. Taking several deep breaths, she opened her eyes then the book and began to read again.

March 3rd ~ Once again another horrid night. The same ritual I went through on my wedding night…I went through again last night. Pray God that it does not happen again tonight.

I don't know how I arrive back in my room, or who the stranger is that comes to me and carries me to a softly lit bath chamber to bathe me and soothe my pains. I only know that I thank God for my angel.

I am a prisoner in my chambers. I am not allowed to leave, even for meals. The doors leading to the small balcony are locked from the outside so I can't even go out into the fresh air. I don't understand what's happening.

March 4th ~ Again, agony. Why? What have I done? What has my father done to me? Is this some punishment for not being a son? If it is, my father is more cruel that I had imagined.

Thank God for my angel.

March 5th ~ How long must I endure this?

Mia skimmed over the next several entries. For over a month and a half her grandmother had endured what she had finally termed, torment.

April 19th ~ Finally, the torment has ended. Last night was the last night I will have to endure that ungodly ritual. Today, the family physician informed the royal family that the heir apparent had been conceived, and I was informed that I would now be allowed to leave my chambers and that I would no longer be visited by the Prince at night. Visited? Is that what they're calling torture these days?

I don't know what to think about the child growing inside me. I always dreamed of having children one day, but I dreamed of them being created in love. This child wasn't.

I still have no idea who my angel is, but I still thank God for them. If I hadn't had that gentleness every night, I'm not sure I would have made it through this with my sanity still intact.

Mia knew that the child her grandmother spoke of was her Uncle Pierre. She knew that her grandmother loved him and knew that it was only because a mother's love knows no bounds. She might have hated his father and been tormented to conceive him, but Clarisse Renaldi had loved, and still loved, her first born.

Opening the diary again, Mia continued to read, often smiling at her grandmother's perfect descriptions of the palace gardens. No wonder she loved the gardens so. They had been her place of refuge from the pain of a horrid marriage.

When she reached the date of her uncle's birth, Mia once again felt tears filling her eyes. Her grandmother had been confined to her chambers when her condition had become apparent and then taken to a room with a bed in the corner, a partition set around it. As her labor progressed, Clarisse had heard the room filling with people. Looking at the doctor, he had explained to her that it was tradition for the next heir's birth to be witnessed by the hierarchy.

"Cruel, horrid people." Mia spat out as she returned to her reading.

January 1st ~ As I lie here wishing I could hold my child, I keep remembering how the doctor held him up with a shout. "An heir is born," he shouted as he held my tiny son, only moments old, over his head for all the spectators to see. A cheer broke forth as my son began to cry. I longed to hold him even with the daze of fatigue hanging over me.

Finally, after he had been cleaned and taken out into the crowd for inspection, I was allowed to hold him. Such a wonder, a child is. My heart filled with love for the tiny human I held in my arms. A human I had been afraid I wouldn't be able to love. As I held my son and watched him sleeping contentedly after nursing, a maid I had never seen before, took him from me, and I haven't seen my baby since.

I ache with the need to nurse my child, but when I asked, I was told that a wet nurse had been brought in as it wasn't proper for the new prince to be nursed by his mother. What utter nonsense. I'm his mother, that's part of my job! I had screamed those very words at the maid, but she had just looked at me with disdain and told me that dreadful word…tradition.

I begged to be granted an audience with the King and Queen and was told the Queen would be in to see me. Half an hour later, her Majesty came into my room. After greeting her properly, I tearfully begged her to see my child. My request was denied. She had after all been in my place with Rupert, and had gladly accepted that the care of the child was no longer her concern. Giving me a dismissive glare, she swiftly left my chambers, leaving me sobbing on the floor.

Late that night, as I lay in my bed, my arms aching for the feel of my baby, my angel once again scooped me into strong arms and carried me through what I now realized was a secret passageway. I tried to get a glimpse of who my angel was, but was unsuccessful. I knew that it was a man by the feel of the arms that held me, and the chest that I rested against, but I had no idea who that man was. Whoever he was, he had an intricate knowledge of the palace and its secrets.

Carefully, I was settled onto a soft bed. I wondered what my angel was doing as he left the room. There was barely any light in the room, and that little bit of light was from the moon shining through the curtains covering the windows. Hearing movement, I turned my head in the direction it had come from. My eyes filled with tears as I watched a tiny bundle being held out to me. It was my son. My angel had brought my son to me.

I whispered thank you, unsure if my angel had heard because he had backed away and left the room again. There in the pale moonlight, I was able to nurse my baby and study his tiny features. I inhaled the unique smell of him, memorizing it, not knowing when or if I would ever hold him again.

"Oh Grandma." Mia cried as she closed the diary. She couldn't read anymore. The pain in her heart was too much. She needed to see her grandmother and be held by her.