So this is a kind of AU fiction but drawing on some real world historical and current events that have happened for inspiration. I have messed around with some of the canon in the Royals a little bit but not too much.
Queen Helena throws down the newspaper in disgust.
"Did you know support for the Monarchy has now fallen to 31 percent?" she spits out. "Before Cyrus took the throne nine years ago it was at 67 percent."
Rachel nods back, calmly unflappable. "King Cyrus was immensely unpopular its true and his propensity for spending taxpayers money on Parliamentary orgies did inflame anti monarchist opinion, but we have a change to turn public opinion around now. King Simon has only been on the throne for ten days and we will work to convince the people that Cyrus' younger brother is nothing like him. King Simon is modest and dignified and will become a man of the people."
Queen Helena sighs. "It's a pity Cyrus was so insistent on controlling the media and keeping Simon out of the spotlight at all times when he was in power. Simon's a good man but no one knows that at the moment."
Rachel smiles back at her. "Then let's tell them that."
She places a list in front of the Queen. "I have a list of projects the King wants to progress. Which would you like me to publicise first?"
Helena glances through the list. "This one I think," she replies pointing. "And then this one after that."
Rachel smiles and whips away the list. "I'll start work immediately, Your Majesty" she replies and silently exits the room.
Helena glances over the rest of the newspaper page in front of her. 'British economy in freefall,' 'France latest country to exit EU' and 'US school shooting claims 14' are the headlines that greet her.
Unfortunately restoring the monarchy's popularity are not the only challenges Simon will face. Since Britain exited the EU two years ago, a string of other countries have followed and both Europe and Britain are suffering the political and economic instability critics warned would follow. The world's biggest economy - China - is in the midst of a major recession and Britain's in the worst shape its been for several hundred years.
The Queen smiles grimly. Still, she supposes she should be grateful that she hasn't been greeted with another photo of her daughter's 'Royal Beaver' on display as she was last month.
It's 9pm on a Thursday evening and Princess Eleanor is occupying herself in the usual way.
She's dressed herself in a tiny black fitted dress, accompanied by ridiculous heels and too much makeup.
The car is coming to collect her for a night out in 15 minutes but right now she's on a mission to get high and moderately drunk just to get the night started.
She reasons with herself that she needs this as a release because ever since Cyrus died her mother's been worse than ever.
Although her father's been sworn in as King, the official coronation is still two weeks away and she's spent today being prodded and poked (and not in the way she likes) for gown and tiara fittings. This afternoon her mother dragged her and her two brothers down to Westminster Abbey where they spent three bloody hours being told where to stand and what to say for a ceremony that should take 45 minutes.
When Cyrus was King being bad was a good thing, because anything shocking she did would help to discredit Cyrus' reign. But since her father was sworn in she's been trying to be good for his sake. But on days like today its damn near impossible.
She mid way through using her eyeshadow compact to sort the white cocaine powder in front of her into a neat line, when the doors burst open.
Eleanor freezes and two men in army uniforms with guns burst into her room.
"Put your hands in the air," yells a dark haired officer with an upper class accent.
Eleanor slowly raises her arms in the air. Further down the corridor she can hear the sound of yelling and the clatter of heavy boots on polished wooden floors.
"Stand up," the other one orders. Eleanor blinks slightly at his American accent - not something she would have expected in the British military.
Eleanor rises to her feet, keeping her hands in the air.
"Turn around and face us," the American barks. His face is unusually handsome with chiselled features and piercing blue eyes, but his voice is cold as ice.
Eleanor completes a quarter turn so she is face on with the two army officers a couple of feet away from her.
All her life she's been cosseted and protected by the state from the people. To have two members of the military burst into her room and point their guns at her for reasons unknown to her is terrifying but she's not about to let them know how she feels.
"Last time I checked I was a Princess and you were employed by the government to protect our country not to invade my home and threaten me. I'm curious to hear your explanation for this behaviour," Eleanor says haughtily.
"You are to come with us," the British officer informs her. "You are being moved to a new location along with your family."
"Not bloody likely," Eleanor counters. The few drinks and weed she's just inhaled have gone to her head already and she's feeling defiant.
The British officer doesn't say anything in reply just shifts his head ever so slightly to indicate something to his colleague.
A second later the American picks her up and dumps her over his shoulder so that she is now looking upside down at the expensive Turkish rug which graces her bedroom floor.
"Hey," Eleanor protests breathlessly. "Put me down," she pummels her fists against his back.
The two soldiers make their way down the corridor, one holding the Princess by a secure grip around her legs. It's shocking to Eleanor how easily he did that and how little effect her resistance is having. And its about now that she regrets wearing a ridiculously short dress, but at least she did her father a favour and wore some knickers this evening.
The next thing she knows she is being unceremoniously dumped the back of a military van. Beside her is her older brother and her mother is shoved in a minute later.
Robbie leans over and squeezes her hand as Eleanor looks back at him wide eyed and frightened. "We're going to be fine Lenny. I'll take care of you. I promise," his voice sounds fierce.
"Do you know what this is about?" Eleanor whispers.
"No idea," he shakes his head. "But you better do what they say for now. I think-"
Their conversation is cut short when four army officers with guns clamber into the truck. One of them stands up and thumps against the roof, and then the truck starts up in a noisy burst of exhaust.
They roll out of the Palace gates. Eleanor stares out behind them where two more trucks follow them. The night is moonless and even though its July and pleasantly warm she feels a chill setting into her heart. She has no idea where they are going or what will happen to them next.
She turns and looks away from the road behind them to see one of the officers - the American - staring at her with a inscrutable expression.
She looks back at him for a few seconds then turns away and nestles in closer to the warmth of her brother's shoulder for protection.