A.N. Hello, everyone!

It's been awhile since I last posted a story, but I hope you all enjoy this. I love modern AU and royal love stories, so I think this will be fun to write. Let me know what you think! :-)

Have a lovely day.

- VioletRose136

PROLOGUE

Saturday 21 April 2018

HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE ARTHUR, PRINCE OF WALES
AND MISS. GUINEVERE FAIRCHILD
ARE ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED

His Majesty The King is delighted to announce the engagement of Prince Arthur to Miss. Guinevere Fairchild.

The wedding will take place in Spring 2018. Further details about the wedding day will be announced in due course.

His Royal Highness and Miss. Fairchild became engaged in Scotland last month. Prince Arthur has informed the King and Queen, The Duchess of Montrose and his siblings; The Princess Henriette, The Prince Edward and the Princesses Morgana and Morgause of Montrose of the engagement. His Royal Highness has also sought and received the blessing of Miss. Fairchild's parents.

The couple will maintain an official London residence at St. James's Palace, London.

Gwen smirked at the engagement announcement, which she had printed out and pasted into her journal. The inclusion of The Duchess of Montrose had been a mistake; the press had had a field day speculating about whether King Uther was engaged in an illicit affair with his former wife. "He only wishes he were," Arthur had said, rubbing at his temples. The disintegration of his parents' marriage was a painful topic for Arthur on a personal and a public level. He was fairly certain that the country would not accept the presentation of a third wife from his father, and that therefore a divorce would result in a constitutional crisis that could only be resolved by the abdication of his father and Arthur's own accession. I suppose I should be wary, too. Guinevere thought. Because while the public wouldn't accept a second Queen (and third wife) from King Uther, they were already all too eager to accept Guinevere as Arthur's Queen. She sighed, and put down her journal.

I am going to be Queen.

Five long months had passed since she had announced her engagement to The Prince of Wales. A flurry of gown designs, cake sampling and other wedding details. It blurred together in her head, and suddenly Guinevere felt dizzy. She leaned her head against the window, grateful that there was no chance of a sneaky photographer catching her momentary unease. It wasn't unease about Arthur, of course. Gwen knew she loved him, it was just the enormous responsibility that had stretched in front of her. Lancelot's parting words echoed in her head and made her stomach clench uneasily.

Run away with me, Gwen. We'll go far away from all of this, and you'll have the small wedding you always wanted—woodland, your reverend from home. Walk away from all of this, and I can give you what you always wanted.

Her answer still rang in her ears, its firmness reassuring her. I would love to run away from all of this, and he would too. But I can't run away from him, Lancelot. He is the half that makes me whole.

He was the half that made her whole, and at its core, that was all there was to it. Whether or not she ever became Queen, or if something pulled Arthur from his destiny on the throne, Gwen knew that she could not walk away from him. If having Arthur meant being Queen, she supposed that that was what she would have to do.

Moving away from the window, Guinevere smirked when she saw the spread of newspapers and tabloids that littered the room. On the bed, the latest issue of Hello Magazine was spread open to reveal a photo of her and Arthur that spread two pages. Gwen was smiling in the photo, dressed in a red dress by Emilia Wickstead. Over the dress she wore her favourite black wool coat, that came to just below her knees. Despite wearing the coat open to show some colour, Gwen had been criticised for wearing black to her own engagement announcement. Fair enough, she had said. Black had been a poor choice, after all. She wasn't going to a funeral. The red dress had been a nod to her engagement ring, a beautiful antique masterpiece of garnet and diamond. She had been told the garnet had belonged to some long-dead princess, and the diamonds were sourced from Queen Igraine's family tiara. Gwen had loved it immediately. The dress, at least, had been a success.

I need to find another stylist, this is too hard to do on my own. Gwen thought, and reached over and flipped through a few pages, showing the various outfits she had worn on royal outings with Prince Arthur. There was a photo of her in jeans and a Barbour jacket taken in Scotland that she hadn't seen before. Bloody photographers. There were a few sketches of what people thought her wedding gown would look like, which made Gwen smirk. Not even close. The gown waited in the adjoining room, its cathedral train reaching almost to the wall.

There was a knock on the door, and Gwen started. "It's open!" She called out, tightening her dressing gown around herself. The door creaked open, and a familiar blond head poked its way around the door. "Arthur!" Gwen jumped up and raced over to him. "It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding! Get out!"

He laughed and pulled her to him. "It's only bad luck to see the bride in her gown before the wedding. If that's what you're wearing, I may have to reconsider marrying you"

"As if you could find someone better." She muttered, whacking his chest playfully. She reached up and kissed him. "To what do I owe the honour, Your Royal Highness?"

Arthur smirked, and reached to push some of her hair behind her ear. "I wanted to have an audience with my Queen-to-be, to ensure she wasn't getting cold feet and running off with the gardener."

"You are absolutely ridiculous. I would run off with the Private Secretary."

"Which one?"

"The King's, obviously."

Arthur chuckled, and Gwen couldn't help but smile as she pictured poor Sir Alan Heywood, the respectable and yet decrepit Private Secretary to His Majesty King Uther. She had often wondered what he would be like if someone bothered to operate to remove what was surely an enormous stick up his arse. Arthur squeezed her hands, bringing her focus back to him, back to him and his beautiful face.

"You are feeling okay, though?" He asked, his voice worried. "Still… sure?"

Gwen smiled. "I have always been sure about you, Arthur."

He frowned, "There's more than that to be sure about, Your Royal Highness."

Gwen sighed. Three hours. Three hours until she would be known as Her Royal Highness Guinevere, Princess of Wales. It was an enormous undertaking. "I am sure about that, Arthur. I want to be with you," She took a deep breath. "And that is how I can be with you, as your Queen." Despite the severity of her responsibility, Guinevere felt a strange thrill race through her. How many women had stood in her position? How many women had chosen their spouse, despite his station and its responsibilities? How many times had love won?

Arthur smiled. "I'm glad." He leaned down to kiss her, and Gwen knew he was still afraid she would run. She kissed him back hard, trying to tell him that she would spend every day until the day she died giving him everything she had to give. Then, too soon, the kiss was over. Arthur stood back and looked at her, memorising every angle of her face, her lips. She smiled up at him.

"I will be yours." She whispered. "For as long as we both shall live, and longer by far."

He squeezed her hands. "I am going to hold you to that." He quipped, and then looked up at the ornate clock behind her. "I need to go before Freya sees me here and shoves me out the door. See you at the altar, Your Royal Highness?"

Gwen smiled. "See you at the altar, Your Royal Highness."

oOo