When Albert woke up, Victoria let out a breath of relief that she had been holding in since he had passed out.

Tears pooled at the corner of her eyes as she saw doctors tending to him.

It wasn't fair that he had passed out, wasn't fair that his health was so fragile, after he had achieved such a great thing for the world. He didn't deserve to be so weak.

All she had wanted was them to...explore their love again. So much hurt had passed between them, and she didn't want to go through such misery again. When was the last time he had called her liebes? When was the last time they had truly held each other close, finding comfort in the other's warmth? For months, they had either been busy. tired, or angry at one another. Some nights Albert didn't even come to bed. Those were the worst ones.

Victoria realized how dependent she had become on her husband.

She wasn't pleased about it.

They had once been completely enthralled by one another, but that did not mean she would have fallen apart should he so much as roll his eyes. She may have become jealous if she saw him enjoying himself with another woman, but she would not have torn herself up over it.

Lately, it seemed that if Albert was unhappy, then she had to be unhappy as well.

And she did not blame that on him, but she did wonder when she had become so...passive to his wishes. The mere thought of him not loving her anymore had driven her to...to take such a huge risk by attending the Exhibition, to be nice to Feodora, and everything just seemed...better when he had looked her in the eyes and told her he loved her, even if it was in a different way.

He was right. She had changed. The old Victoria would not have caved so easily.

Once everyone left the room, she closed the doors and walked to her husband, whose eyes were closed as he breathed unsteadily.

"This is because you worked yourself to death, you know." She sat down, running her hand through his hair as he opened his eyes.

"Good afternoon to you too," he murmured, reaching for her hand and holding it to his chest. "Victoria...I am truly sorry that I made you worry."

"Well, I do not accept your apology." She kissed his forehead.

"It seems you cannot go easy on me even when I am on my deathbed."

"Oh, don't!" she cried suddenly, pulling back. "You are not on your deathbed, Albert! Do not say things like that, I could not bear to lose you!"

Albert's eyes were wide as he watched her. She did not let herself cry, but she was shaking her head fervently.

He reached out for her and she responded to his touch, sighing frustratedly. Even the mention of his death could do this to her.

She let herself sink into his arms and Albert kissed her cheek. "I was joking. I promise I am not going anywhere. It was just a joke, liebes."

Just his nickname for her was her undoing.

Victoria clutched at him tightly, her hands tangling in his curls as she buried her face in his shoulder. "Please, do not joke about such things. Albert, you, you are my everything, and I do not know what I would do without you by my side."

She leaned back, just a little, to look into his eyes. His beautiful, dark eyes that she loved to lose herself into. He watched her intently, raising his hand to stroke her cheek with his thumb.

"I feel foolish," he whispered, "to have ever made you think I did not love you. I do, Victoria. Till death do us part, I do."

"I was foolish to have believed it."

"No, with my actions - I was...awful to you, and I regret it. I let my goals, and - and my insecurities hurt you."

At this, she chuckled without mirth. "Hurt me? Albert, you worked so hard that you gave out. I was not the one hurt by this."

He closed his eyes tight for a second, nodding as he kissed her temple. His arms tightened around her and Victoria rested her head on his chest, trying to breathe in the comfort that he gave her.

"You did not answer my question," he murmured after a minute. Victoria blinked in surprise, furrowing her brows.

"What question?"

"The question I asked before I fainted." He placed a hand on her cheek. "Was marrying me the right choice, my love?"

Victoria gazed up at him. If she was eighteen again, and they had had a fight, she would have told him no, that she regretted it. If it had been a few years ago, then she may have smiled at him and said that it was the best choice she ever made.

But now, things were different. They were different. Their love was different.

"Whether it was the right choice or not, it doesn't matter. I would do it again in a heartbeat, Albert, it is the only choice that leads me to you, and I'll choose it again, and again, as long as we both shall live."

Which, Victoria hoped beyond hope, would be for many more decades to come.

ahahahahaha i can't write victorian dialect but whatever