Disclaimer: I don't own The Royals. E! Does.
This is not a prequel to my other story, but this offers a whole new storyline and insight and a lot of focus for more of the characters.
Two households, both alike in dignity... From ancient grudge break to new mutiny
What do you do when disaster strikes?
Imagine when everything is perfectly planned and thought of, and it seems like nothing could ever go wrong. That's a good time to sit back, relax and let your guard down, right?
Wrong! It's always the wrong thing to do, especially if you are a royal.
Let's be very clear here: the event in question is a wedding. And weddings are not like wars. At least that's not how they're supposed to be.
But while weddings have flowers, cakes and dresses; and wars have guns, artillery fire and uniforms, they both have many things in common.
Namely; Anarchy. Chaos. People marching in straight lines; stress; trauma; threats; doubts; the trail of tears and frustration; anxiety and fear. The sheer power of determination and courage which, ultimately ends in the event being played out according to everyone's wishes, or in loss and defeat.
This wedding involves a beautiful bride who looks more like a goddess, plucked from a world of tales and magic. A brutally handsome groom who charges in heroically, like a knight; a drunken uncle; dopey cousins; two catfighting mothers-in-law-to-be; a family unwilling to let their daughter go; a bridesmaid who wants to bring a date; an adorable junior bridesmaid; and the Best Man who's facing nerves, stress, and dealing with turbulent issues of his own.
Only, unlike other stories, they're royalty. All of them, except for the cute junior bridesmaid, but she was the head of security's little girl, Sarah Alice. But unfortunately, this just so happens to not just be another wedding, but the so-called 'wedding of the century'.
So, stress, trauma, tears, tantrums, catfights, parties, jealous issues, drunkenness, nerves, superiority complexes, wedding saboteurs and general drama?
That's right, so hold on world.
God save the King.
The eyes of the world watched and cameras flashed.
HM, His Majesty Robert Henstridge, newly-crowned king of the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth Countries flashes a picture-perfect smile. Beside him, his bride-to-be, the breathtaking, devastatingly beautiful HRH, Princess Aglaia of the Hellenic Kingdom of Greece, had her own heartbreaking smile.
The couple dazzled the excited crowds.
"It's a true miracle," the presenter gushed. "King Robert, formerly prince, thought to be tragically murdered, has now returned amidst a chaotic, scandal-struck monarchy to redeem their names and save his country from anarchy. He's claimed his throne and fallen in love with one of the most beautiful princesses in the world, plucked from a land of myth and legend- a true fairytale romance."
"Yes, that's right Elsie and-" the presenter's voice trailed off as a decanter of whiskey smashed against the screen, causing it to flicker, sizzle and spark. Whoosh, a flash of smoke and fumes. Then nothing.
Cyrus Henstridge, formerly king of Britain slugged his other decanter of whiskey. Already he was regretting throwing that bottle. Who throws a good bottle of whiskey when you've got more than enough sorrows to drink out? That's right, the deposed and dethroned king of England, the evil uncle.
At least he got rid of the damned telly.
He swilled his bottle down.
"Can't do this," he slurred. "Can't believe-"
"Can't believe what?" A simpering sweet, high voice asked. He turned, nearly staggering drunkenly. Cyrus squinted.
Veruca Popperwell, Duchess of Essex, Cyrus' ex-wife was smiling benignly at him, but her blue-grey eyes were cold.
"Still drinking away now, Cyrus?" She asked, breezily as she picked up an empty decanter between her long fingers. Veruca sniffed and put it down.
"So you're going to sit here, drinking yourself to death, just as you did when your supposedly, legally dead nephew comes back in order to claim the throne, and now you're giving him a chance to hump away one of the most beautiful women in the world, in order to produce a legitimate heir to the throne?" Veruca challenged.
Cyrus sighed. "Look, I don't know what you're planning now-"
"A retaliation, strike-back," his ex-wife demanded. "For Penelope's throne."
Cyrus snorted. "Even if Robert-dear doesn't produce an heir, there're still the twin freaks, the bane of my existence." He took another gulp. "And their mother."
Veruca startled him again by slapping him. "Not again," Cyrus whined, clutching his cheek.
"Where is that man who wouldn't let anyone say no to him?" She demanded. SLAP! "Where is that man who slithered and schemed his way onto England's throne?" SLAP! "Where is that man who took a leaf out of Machiavelli's book, neutralised his enemies and fought to have his way on top?" SLAP!
Cyrus rolled his eyes. "Make a habit out of doing this, my dear, and you'll lose a hand. Or a head. It's treason to strike the king."
"Former king," she spat. "The one who relinquished his rights and title, and surrendered his throne to his younger, more charismatic, strapping nephew."
"Ouch," Cyrus mocked. "But still a king. A crowned king will always be a king in Britain."
That was true. Unlike in other countries, British monarchs take a constitutional vow to remain king for life. But this didn't mean that the country couldn't have two kings. One the reigning monarch and active, the other deposed, dethroned and watched very carefully. The British public, parliament and Cabinet had all shown their support towards Robert and everyone else had all but thrown in their approval publicly.
Leaving Cyrus… Like this.
"If you're still a king," his ex-wife hissed. "Then why are you not doing something about this?"
"What? Say 'I object' when the Archbishop of Canterbury calls for it?" He scoffed. "Find a list of reasons to make sure this wedding doesn't happen? Give them cold feet?"
The smile on Veruca's powder-pale face made him pause.
"Yes, that should do it," he murmured. "But Robert doesn't trust me." Not anymore. But a king knew when to cut his losses, and a favourite nephew was one of them. "But the bride…"
The bride was HRH Princess Aglaia, a Greek and Danish princess, the youngest child and only daughter of the Greek King Konstantinos and his queen, who had herself been born a princess in Denmark. And it was no secret that Queen Anastasia loathed Queen Helena and the feeling was mutual. The two of them had been in cahoots ever since they were teenagers bitching about each other and now their favoured children were getting married.
Cyrus smiled slowly. "That should do it. Now, where's that good, lovely shag you promised me?"
Queen Helena of the United Kingdom and Queen Anastasia of the Hellenic Kingdom faced off each other as rivals.
Queen Helena was a beautiful brunette, stunning and gorgeous, even in her fifties- she looked like half her age, skin flawless, figure to die for. By contrast, Queen Anastasia was a blaze of golden beauty, that famous mane of thick, very soft, gently waving hair in an unbelievably golden shade, like sunshine and spun gold, her flawless skin a creamy ivory, her figure effortlessly graceful and tall.
Were they supposed to be greeting each other? Helena didn't know.
It was raining. And the Greek royals had just arrived. Everyone stared.
"Greetings, your majesties," Helena plastered a very fake, very toothy shark smile towards her. If only she could bite the bitch's head off.
Queen Anastasia's own smile did not match the chips of Arctic ice that were her green eyes. "Your majesties, your English welcomes never fails to astound me. Is it any wonder that so many people worldwide are drawn to you and your court?"
Translation: 'You're a frigid bitch and it's a miracle you can be slutty enough to get men to want you.'
Helena's smile grew strained. How dare she?! She was the queen of England! Well, not for long. Helena's pride rankled when she remembered that she would be Queen Mother, whereas this woman would be remaining queen and her daughter would be taking Helena's title!
"How very gracious of you, your majesty," Helena fake-simpered. "Though I know we can never compare to your warm welcomes and the warmth of your court. The masses are enthralled."
Translation: 'You're a common whore. And a very low one at that.'
Nearby, the ushers and butlers, Rachel, Queen Helena's assistant, Spencer her toyboy and the Lord Chamberlain, either averted her eyes, sensing the catastrophe to come, or cast fearful glances at each other.
"As enthralled as they are towards you?" Queen Anastasia's smile grew dazzling now. That was always a bad sign. Well, it was for Helena. "You are the shining queen of this country, and they will never forget it." Her voice grew dangerously quiet towards the end.
In other words, the paternity scandal, Helena's public affairs and her perceived betrayal of King Simon and numerous other issues would never be forgotten.
"Speaking of which, how has the highly esteemed royal family of Britain been?" Anastasia asked, before Helena could counter with something else. "Including the famed Prince Liam and Princess Eleanor?"
This was an all-too brilliant reminder that the British royals, not just Helena, were suffering a series of scandals and the stigma had not yet lifted- if ever. Simon's murder, Robert's 'accident', the revelations of her affairs, the paternity bombshell Cyrus dropped on everyone's heads which he took advantage of to become king; and the false DNA test results had eroded the trust people had in the British monarchy.
Helena had seen a drop in invitations to royal weddings; Christenings; award ceremonies; international conventions in global warming, fundraising and AIDS awareness; balls, gala dinners, jubilees and so much more. Others were not taking her invitations either.
The only Henstridges people had undisputed faith in were Simon (who was dead) and Robert. Everyone else had a shadow of doubt or tarnished reputations.
Helena's eyes grew icy. "They're very well, of course," she said stiffly. "And they're all excited over the upcoming wedding. A new member of the British royal family." She smirked.
Just as she predicted, the smug smile on Anastasia's face faltered and evaporated like mist. Everybody knew. Queen Anastasia was incredibly attached to her daughter, the whole family considered her their favourite, even the brood of royal relatives and the country.
And as British queen, Princess Aglaia would rarely ever see her family, even for Christmases and Easters.
Anastasia's eyes flashed and narrowed dangerously.
Anastasia said: "I hope we shall enjoy the celebrations," she said almost-wistfully. She stepped closer to Helena. "I am sure the people will be watching, the world-over, waiting to see what kind of a party this will be." She said dangerously, smirking again.
Helena's eyes met hers, ferociously.
You bitch, Helena's eyes said to Anastasia's very smug ones.
Anastasia just smiled.
She was about to say something, but her husband came forwards.
"My dear, your majesty," he said. His voice was kind, but he had a warning tone within it. "If I may inquire as to the king's whereabouts?"
Just then, Robert appeared through the doorway. "Your majesties," he said. "Welcome to England."
"Thank you, your majesty," his father-in-law-to-be shook his hand. King Konstantinos was the most level-headed and reasonable of the soon-to-be in-laws, but Robert also knew he needed to get on this man's good graces.
Just then, two young men appeared and a young woman. The woman was what captured Robert's gaze… And his heart.
Robert felt his very breath leave him as the whole atmosphere suddenly felt airless. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he was not biased when he said this. People in Greece said she was their Crown Jewel and boasted that she was Helen of Troy reborn and not without reason. Her emerald, almond eyes shone and glowed with a special radiance. She was lovelier than anyone else, so beautiful it made Robert's heart ache.
Her hair shone and glowed with the vitality if polished jet, artfully draped down one side in a cascade like a waterfall. Her skin glowed fresh and radiant. She was more beautiful than was truly fair. Those famous liquid, almond, emerald eyes and rosy hue on her cheeks. She was the most heartbreakingly, devastatingly beautiful person anyone had ever seen and nobody- repeat, nobody- could ever take their eyes off her. Not a single person that saw her did not have their breath stolen from their very lungs and could remember how to breathe. She was so radiant, it seemingly hurt for Robert to look at. Everybody else's jaws dropped and he wondered how they would be able to go without oxygen.
The one person he longed to see above all else.
The only person who could also look at him in that way.
"No, no, NO!" Eleanor bellowed into her cell. "I told you- I don't want the peach taffeta, it makes me look like a fruit! Hence, the colour!" She slammed her bedroom door impatiently.
A line of dialogue from other end of the line.
Len drummed her fingers impatiently against the table. "Yes, yes, yes- but-" she placed a strong emphasis on the word but. "Before you ask any questions, I do NOT want the maroon stockings and shoes, I mean, NO. THANK YOU." She held a hand up as if the other person was present.
"Yea- fine, as long as it's not peach brocade with maroon stockings and heels, then I'm happy!" A pause. "Well I don't know! It's not my wedding, it's my brother's," she said irritably. "Yeah, yeah fine." She said as Liam walked in. "So long as you don't make me look like a hybrid peach-prune, then I'm happy- just don't make me look like fruit!" She shouted at the phone before she ended the conversation.
"Damn," she muttered, sinking into her chair and putting her feet up. "Can you believe this?" She asked Liam.
"What?" He placed his hands on the chair in front of them.
"I'm the bridesmaid, it's not my wedding day, but everybody's acting like it's going to be all eyes on yours truly," she gestured sarcastically.
"It's the bride's day," Liam retorted. "And besides, you like everyone looking at you."
"Not when there's a bunch of horny, heartbroken boys who didn't win the bride's heart." Len remarked.
Liam grew silent. "How did he do it?" He asked.
"What?"
"Robert," he found himself saying. "How did he win her hand in marriage?"
"Obviously, he fell in love, and she felt the same way," Eleanor shrugged.
Liam was silent. The brother he knew now, and the brother he had known in his youth were two very different people, though they could put up a similar façade. Was Robert truly in love with her? He was infatuated. He was obsessed. But was it true love?
Aglaia was the daughter of a king. She was the granddaughter of kings.
And she was, literally, the most beautiful, if not one of the most beautiful women they had ever seen. She had a smile that warmed people from the inside out, whilst dazzling them at the same time.
So how did Robert manage to woo a girl like that? Liam wasn't even aware that he was seeing anybody.
Much less, a princess, another king's daughter.
Aglaia of Greece and Denmark was truly a sight to behold. Lovely beyond comparison, it wasn't just her beauty. But it was one of the reasons. Liam still couldn't get over it. She was much too gorgeous.
A lot of people had literally started drooling when she walked into the room. Their jaws dropped to the ground. She was the most beautiful woman Liam had ever seen (and that was saying something).
And if that wasn't enough, she was utterly magnetic. Completely captivating and charismatic. When she spoke to Liam, or when she was listening to what he had to say, she made him feel like he was the only person in the world that mattered to her. He had never felt that before. No one had ever made him feel like that.
So how did Robert manage to win her hand and heart? Most importantly to Liam, why?
He didn't know. The bonds of family, always so fragile, were being torn again.
"Your highness?" Someone knocked on the door.
"What is it?" Len called out.
"The queen requests your presence. The Queen of Greece and the princess has arrived and they're taking tea."
"With all due respect," Queen Anastasia said icily. "My daughter will not be wearing a knock-off of a previous bride's outfit."
Helena's stormy blue eyes narrowed. "Hardly," she said through gritted teeth. Aglaia closed her eyes during the dialogue. Len felt sorry for her.
"Just… Inspiration. Not that many people would know, of course." She dared, 'many people'. meaning Anastasia.
"Of course, you could teach them about inspiration," Anastasia snarked. "After all, your new décor in Blenheim Palace has certainly seen some inspiration. Was it Vegas?"
Whoa, déjà vu alert. Didn't Duchie, their grandmother say that?
"Or Versailles," Helena gave a strained smile. "But then again, in a land surrounded by ancient architecture, the more modern Baroque and Rococo does seem rather less… Classical, does it not?"
Anastasia simply raised an eyebrow. "Classical? Yes, I'm accustomed to what is classical and stylish, as they hardly go out of style, unlike trends that come in this year and the next. A lot of things go in and back out of style. You'd know about them, of course." She smiled. You're one of them.
"On the matter of the dress," Aglaia interjected, looking from her mother, to her mother-in-law-to-be. "I think I would like to consider the options before choosing a designer."
"That's a good idea," Len piped up. "Len can help," Liam suggested.
Aglaia smiled at them. Liam's heart skipped a beat and started thumping red into his face.
"Thank you," Aglaia's emerald eyes gazed bore onto both of them.
Aglaia sighed. "I really wouldn't have known what to do without you," she said to the twins.
"Don't mention it," Len said smiling. "Yeah, our family's… Crazy." Liam admitted.
Aglaia sighed. "That's what my brother said."
They looked at her. "Which one?" Liam asked. "If you don't mind my asking," he said hastily.
"Both, actually," Aglaia confessed, gazing up at them with those emerald eyes, limpid and deep. Liam was struck just by how clear and bright they were.
She sighed. "It doesn't matter. I'm not coming here blind, deaf or stupid, but I…" She sighed. "Anyway, I haven't chosen a designer-" she winced. "I'm not too sure about anyone. Would you like to come for the rings? Philippos Manetas is coming over and he's the one who designed the rings."
Liam blinked. "I thought Robert mentioned that someone else was handing over the rings."
"It's a collaboration," Aglaia explained. "Between Manetas and a Welsh jeweller named James Evans-Davies. It's made of Welsh gold, because apparently that's tradition. But… Well, Manetas is highly regarded by our family so…" She hesitated.
Liam felt for her, he truly did. She was stuck in the middle of everyone and everything. Including Robert.
He wondered if she knew that with Robert she wasn't likely to be protected. In fact, who would protect her from the man his brother had become?
Who if not him?
Len blinked. "Sounds neat."
"Sounds expensive," Aglaia laughed softly. "Isn't it dreadful? But his artwork is beautiful, and apparently if your brother's word is to be believed, which I do trust, then the rings will be." She put touched Eleanor's hand. "But it wouldn't be the same if you weren't there." She said gently.
Len could only smile, and Aglaia looked up at Liam.
The moment her green eyes met his- greener than anything he had ever seen- Liam was caught. He melted.
"Of course," he managed. She smiled a heartbreaking smile.
Unfortunately, Liam realised he wasn't the only prince there. Crown Prince Alexandros-Achileos, more commonly known as Alexios, titled Prince of Sparta, was there as well.
Prince Alexios of Sparta was an extremely handsome guy, chiselled, golden-bronze skin like a surfer, tall, athletic, lean and muscular. He had golden-blond hair like his mother, and stunning malachite-green eyes. But despite his looks, he also had an aura which commanded instant respect. This guy was a battle-hardened soldier from a very early age when other princes were having an easy life. An SAS commander or an American Navy SEAL officer walked the same way as he did, and people instantly parted whenever he walked into a crowd, in the same manner of intimidated awe and respect.
His cold green eyes, cold in a way his sister's eyes never were, harder than even his mother's, looked up as Liam entered the room with Eleanor and Aglaia, the latter arm-in-arm with his twin. A curt nod was all the acknowledgement Alexios ever gave him, and it was more like a jerk of the head.
If this guy was Prince of Sparta, clearly it was for a reason.
But another prince was in the room: Dimitri, Aglaia's second older brother, titled Prince of Thebes.
Helena and Anastasia strode into the room at the same time, sparing icy glances at one another before gliding over to the table, chins high, awaiting the arrival of the Greek sculptor and the Welsh jeweller. Aglaia greeted both her mother and her mother-in-law-to-be.
"Now, I suppose we'll have to wait, Robert did say that he would be late," she said apologetically. "He also said he hopes that it's alright."
Helena's smile looked strained, though she could not help but lower her guard when Aglaia greeted her. Her charm was infectious.
Anastasia nodded simply, smiling a genuine smile for the first time since Liam and Len had seen her. "Of course, agape mou."
They took their seats and soon enough, they came in.
First was a dark-haired middle-aged man with a Mediterranean complexion smiling as the princess stood to greet him with the queen. Aglaia warmly but courteously greeted him and the Welsh jeweller, a fair-haired, blue-eyed fellow with a jolly smile.
"The king sends his apologies," Aglaia said apologetically. "But I'm afraid he's a little held up with his work. I hope you don't mind," she said sincerely.
"Oh no, not at all," the two of them chorused, before giving each other creeped-out looks.
"But," Manetas said. "Here are the rings." He gestured to a box and the two opened the lid with a flourish.
Everyone either gasped or made impressed noises. The rings were…
The finest threads of white, yellow, and rose gold in two perfectly-shaped, lovely patterned circles. The metallic threads shimmered, capturing and reflecting light as if stars were caught within the strands of metal. It was beautiful. They were both beautiful.
Queen Anastasia looked impressed, for the first time since she set foot in the country, as she turned sparkling eyes towards the two men. "They're outstanding," Helena complimented.
Alexios' eyebrow rose. "Yes, I must say I'm impressed," he said speaking for the first time since Liam had first seen him. "You know how to make a great team." For a moment, it looked as if his eyes flickered over to the rest of them.
"Yes," That was Prince Dimitri. Helena turned and had a good look at him for the first time.
He was beautiful as well, though his sister shone so brightly it was seemingly impossible to get over her mere presence. Helena could not help but stare. He had features that were between beautiful in a feminine fashion and outright handsome in a masculine way; smooth fair skin with a hint of a bronzed honey tan, obviously Mediterranean; straight, fine Grecian profile; chiselled cheekbones and mouth. His eyes were liquid, very deep and clear and like jade, not quite the emerald of his sister's. It was a stark contrast to his dark, smooth hair that Helena, admittedly, found it tempting to run her fingers through. He had looks that could capture and enchant all the same.
Then she remembered, that this was the son of the golden-haired bitch from hell. No way, Jose.
Better a horse than this fellow.
"I must admit they are indeed impressive," he said, smiling in a way that did not make Helena trust him. "Where do you get your ideas?"
"Well," the Welsh jeweller, James, hesitated.
"We discussed this beforehand with His Majesty, the king of Britain." Manetas helpfully explained.
"Yes," Robert strode into the room. "That's true." Everyone stood to greet him and the two men bowed.
"Please," Robert held out his hand. He gestured for them to retake their seats, greeted his mother, sister, mother-in-law and kissed his fiancée.
"My apologies for being late. This was something I thought of with the help of Mr. Manetas and Mr. Evans-Davies," Robert said pleasantly.
"And they're both beautiful," Aglaia said softly, her eyes meeting his. Robert's eyes softened and he broke into a genuine, dazzling smile.
"I'm glad to hear it," he murmured. He kissed her hand, eyes still fixed on hers. Liam noticed the engagement ring glittering on her finger.
Did Robert love her because of her beauty? She was the most beautiful woman Liam had ever seen, and he was sure Robert thought the same way.
Or was it because she was a king's daughter and the king of Denmark's niece?
Disturbed, Liam glanced at his mother.
"The design was Robert's idea," Aglaia said out of the blue.
The two mothers were perfectly motionless. "You… Designed them?" Helena managed. "When on earth did you do that?"
"Before we were even married," Aglaia said dryly, casting a glance at her husband-to-be.
He laughed softly. Liam stole a glance at Queen Anastasia. The woman appeared far from pleased. In fact, she had a dark, stormy look in her green eyes and an expression which Liam did not like.
Not that he could blame her though. He had started when he heard that.
I think we might've underestimated just how much they did not want her to marry into our family, Liam reflected. Granted, they had nothing against Robert. They were courteous and if they were hostile, their only reasons for being so towards him was because he was taking their daughter away. But while the king seemed polite and reasonable to all, the two princes and the queen either pointedly ignored the twins and their mother fought with Helena at every turn.
Queen Anastasia was not pleased that Robert- and Aglaia, most likely- had decided upon this marriage beforehand.
Helena also did not look pleased. The idea that her own son was already planning to replace her… "Really?" She managed. The couple-to-be cast a glance towards her. "When?"
"Just after our engagement," Robert replied. He turned back to the jeweller.
But judging by the darkened look in Queen Anastasia's eyes, she was more than deeply unhappy about this revelation.
"Well, the Abbey has been booked for the official occasion?" She inquired, trying to distract herself from her anger.
"Of course," Helena scoffed. "We hardly want anyone to show up on the wrong day, now, do we? Might be a tad bit embarrassing." She smirked. Especially if you are the mother of the bride. Those words were unspoken.
Anastasia smiled like poison honey. "Oh, I'm sure," she purred. "But then again, I think we should worry more about interruptions. After all, isn't it embarrassing when somebody barges in on an official ceremony, just when a massively important vow is being said in full view of the world press and foreign dignitaries and royals?"
Helena froze. Ouch. That was a hit. There was a nasty smile on her counterpart's features. She was referring to the time when Cyrus barged in just as Liam was about to swear the oath of office, and dropped the paternity bombshell.
Then her eyes flashed with fire and narrowed dangerously.
"Mother," Aglaia said hastily. "Please." Robert was now deep in discussion with the jeweller and sculptor, and did not appear to have noticed the two queens' hostile dialogue.
"I am sure," Helena began dangerously. "That the world press would find that very entertaining indeed. Just as they would find it entertaining if a security breach occurred during the wedding." Aglaia and Len stifled groans. "Imagine, for instance; someone slipping and bashing their head on the abbey steps, particularly if it was someone important. Perhaps we should focus more on security? I daresay, the world will be traumatised, just looking at the headlines. And you know how concerned I am, as we are all about to become family."
The corner of Anastasia's mouth twisted into a grimace. "Yes," she stated, as if tasting something foul. That was a hit to her, who was attached to her daughter. "I agree. After all, how many enemies does one make? Especially when breaches and infiltrations are possible? And people turn up missing all the time. I was so sorry to hear about two of your staff," she gave her a look of false sympathy. "I can't imagine what happened to those poor two maids. Imagine, a lifetime of loyal service, and what a way fate has repaid them!" Everyone cringed terribly.
"I think we should move on to the tableware, don't you?" Aglaia interrupted, desperate. Helena had caught on the hints towards Prudence and Violet and was turning dangerously still again.
"I sincerely hope you enjoy the show," Helena said through gritted teeth. They stood, rings nearly forgotten. "The pre-wedding concert is on tomorrow night. You always did love a good show." She nearly sneered.
"Not as much as you, Queen Helena, I'm sure you'll enjoy this one even more," Anastasia said with a brilliant smile. Helena flushed a dark crimson, something Liam never imagined his mother would be capable of doing. Aglaia looked distressed, but she braved it all. Liam admired her all the more for that.
"I've just spoken with the jeweller- and Mr. Manetas," Robert reappeared. "I also have a surprise for you," he said to Aglaia. She looked mystified. "What more can you give me?" She sounded incredulous. She shook her head, her eyes gentle.
Oh, Aglaia. Len felt strangely protective of her. You don't know this family. She was most likely the purest thing to ever set foot within these walls, rivalling even her father and Sarah Alice. She knew Aglaia was one of the most educated and experienced people, but she just knew that the bride was walking into a trap. She seemed so innocent, and so naïve that Eleanor just cringed at the idea of her living the life in the circus show that was their family.
So did Liam. And he couldn't bear to imagine what her new life would be with Robert.
Even Robbie, the best of them, along with their dad, would shower her with countless gifts.
He smirked. "Just wait." He kissed her, with a bit more passion than was appropriate. Their mothers stiffened but Aglaia continued the kiss. Dimitri rolled his eyes. Liam did not see. "Now about that promise..." He whispered in her ear.
"How did you think Robert fell in love with her?" Liam asked.
Helena shrugged. "Does it matter?" She sounded less sour, but the mood still lingered above their heads.
"No, but it's just..." Liam struggled to find the words. "We've never interacted with the Greek royals before-"
"I can't imagine why," Helena said with an uncharacteristically inelegant snort. "So how come he's met her? And he wants to marry her?" He looked at her. "And how come she loves him?"
"Does it truly matter?" His mother repeated. "As much as I have misgivings about the mother, it's a good, strong alliance. Brings us closer to the Greek and Danish royal families."
"Danish?" Len asked from the other side of the room. "Before Her Snobbish Majesty Queen Bitch-Face married the future king of Greece, she was a princess of Denmark. Her name was Ingrid." She scoffed. "Then she got married, her husband became king, and essentially, she never ceases to remind me that one, she's risen to the position of my equal even when I wasn't expecting it, and two, she's given birth to a gorgeous, remarkably talented brood and now one of them is going to be taking my place as queen." She looked sour again. "But at least Robert will have international support from Greece and Denmark and their considerable international and European influence. Even with Brexit." Len frowned. She was about to say something, but Liam interrupted her.
Liam did not look happy. "So you think that's the only reason he's marrying her?" He sounded upset. "Because it's convenient for him?"
Helena shrugged. "What does it matter why he's marrying her? It's a good match, and as much as I hate her brood-sow- well, mother- she's perfect. She's beyond perfect, she just needs to have her teeth sharpened for this role. I don't think she knows just how many throats she's going to tear as queen in this madhouse." She drained the last of her whiskey.
"A marriage can build, maintain or destroy a kingdom," Helena stated. "That's how it works. That's how it's always been and that's how it always will be. Robert needs to be strong and to make good connections, to give support to us from the international community, because God knows-" she scowled. "Pryce and Cyrus destroyed it with the paternity bombshell and your father's death. Now as far as the world's concerned, I'm the heartless whore, and Anastasia's the loving and devoted wife." She poured herself another drink.
Liam and Eleanor looked with pity at their mother who looked downright miserable. But Liam's mind was running. If Aglaia didn't know, if she truly didn't know...
Robert could be charming. He knew that with Kathryn. And now she was next.
Without a word, Liam stood and strode out of the room.
The wedding was on.
Huge truckloads of flowers were brought for the occasion, garlands and wreaths, table centrepieces, posies and (of course), the bride's bouquet. The royals' florist and her assistants worked tirelessly to make the perfect wedding decorations fit for a king's wedding. Cake samples were tasted, opinions given, designs chosen, menu and catering were planned, the staff brought countless ingredients for the occasion and were discussing the menu with Queen Helena, her lord chamberlain and Princess Eleanor, along with the bride and groom.
And this was where the bride's mother displayed her battle standards, and brandished all her firepower at her old rival. So did Helena.
Oh, Queen Helena certainly fought back. The two queens of the Hellenic Kingdom of Greece and the United Kingdom of Great Britain, fought fire with fire; with thunder and lightning; brimstone and hailstorms. It was quite clear, to everyone involved in the wedding preparations (including the bride and groom), that Queen Anastasia disagreed with her daughter's choice, not because of her husband-to-be, but because of his family and their less-than-sparkling reputation- the corruption, debauchery and danger involved with the Henstridges. And most of all, the mother-in-law. And then it became increasingly apparent that Queen Anastasia was very much attached to and protective of her daughter, and wasn't just fearful and mistrustful of the security people, the staff, the government and everyone to do with her soon-to-be in-laws (including said in-laws). She didn't want to let her daughter go.
Seating arrangements were planned meticulously. The groom's and the bride's mothers made barbed-wire remarks. Cake designs were presented. The two queens tried to scratch each other's eyes out. Catering staff were brought forth. The two threatened to drown one another with champagne or hint 'subtly' at accidents when stepping out onto the steps from carriages.
It distressed the bride. Truly it did. Robert put up a brave face, and acted like nothing terrible was happening, but eternally-patient Aglaia had tried- and failed to calm everyone's ire. But in truth she was near to tears from the outright hostility and hatred everyone was projecting at one another.
"That arrogant bitch," Queen Helena fumed. "Daring to say that no daughter of hers is worthy enough for our family." She paced up and down the room, the twins standing like soldiers about to be given suicide missions.
"Well, we'll just have to show her," she kept fuming. "Show her- and the rest of the world, including all those long-nosed relatives of hers, that it is an honour and a privilege to be marrying into the Henstridge family."
"An honour that's actually suicide," Len dryly pointed out. "You do know that marrying a Henstridge equals certain death in recent experience?"
Besides, Queen Anastasia had never specifically stated that marrying into the Henstridge family would be a step-down for Aglaia.
"And according to Queen Anastasia," Spencer, the Lord Chamberlain added. "It's a bit like tossing her infant to an active minefield, waiting to see where she lands."
Helena stared at him. The twins turned towards him. "Wait- she said that?" Liam asked, bewildered. Spencer looked sheepish. "It's what I overheard, sir."
"Wait- who was she discussing all this with?" Eleanor asked.
"Other royal acquaintances, if anything I've heard is any indication," Spencer confessed. "It's hard to understand everything she was saying. The queen of Greece, continuously switches between Greek, Danish, French, German, Italian, Spanish, Swedish, Norwegian, Faroese and Dutch. Based on what I've heard the princess is also very fluent in these languages and more."
"F.M.L." Helena bit out.
"FML," Eleanor muttered in agreement. "So, where's the happy couple?"
"Out for a walk, your royal highness."
In the lushly wooded park, the new king of England, Robert was showing his bride-to-be around.
The next queen of England cast her famously legendary green eyes with those absurd lashes, around the place.
"It's not like Greece," Robert said teasingly.
"But it feels like home," she looked at him. "It's beautiful." Robert smiled a genuine dazzling smile, feeling happier than he had been for months.
Robert stepped closer to her. "Now, why can't we go somewhere and-""If you're suggesting we find someplace to elope to," Aglaia said with amusement. "Before the pre-arranged ceremony-""Gretna Green," Robert grinned. "British version of Vegas."
Aglaia laughed. It was a beautiful musical laugh that people often swore charmed birds into dancing in the breeze and made the hard-hearted smile without meaning to.
"At a blacksmith's shop," she said with amusement. "And an anvil priest." She had heard about it.
Gretna Green was where couples traditionally used to elope to, hiding and marrying inside a blacksmith's workshop, officiated by the smith.
"Yeah," he leaned forwards putting his head closer. "Because once this is all done, we're never going to find time for ourselves." He kissed her.
"And how do you think our florists will react?" She murmured, leaning forwards into his warm, hard body. "The ones who prepared the commemorative tea towels, the mugs-" she made a face. "Seriously, I don't want to see my face on a mug every morning, is there any way we can get rid of those?"
Robert smirked. "Just say the word, and I'll get a kiss in return." He kissed her again. "Maybe more.
"No security guards, no intruders, no battling family and in-laws." Just us. He deepened the kiss, and pressed his bride against a tree, grabbing her leg, and putting lifting it around him, then taking hold of both her hands, clasped behind his back and pressing it to his front, letting her feel his hard, ridged torso with their breathing increasingly laboured and-
"Your majesty!" Came the call. Aglaia blushed and Robert irritably pulled away. "I'm sorry to disturb your majesty," one of the aides panted, having just arrived. "But the Prime Minister-"
What does he want now? Robert thought, more than a little irritated and disappointed. "Very well," he said masking his emotions. "Tell him I will be there momentarily. Thank you."
He sighed turning back to Aglaia. "It was too good to be true, to think that I'll have some time alone with you."
"You're the king," Aglaia said softly. "I know what it's like."
Robert looked both disappointed and pained but he mischievously whispered something in her ear.
"Please say yes," he begged, as he walked backwards. "I love you," he said, before he cast one last wistful look, turning around and walking back in the direction of the palace.
"They did WHAT?!" Helena snapped. Her stormy grey-blue eyes glared at Rachel.
Rachel replied. "They sent back the invitations." Helena glared again and stood up from behind her desk.
"So am I to understand," she said dangerously. "That the heads of the various royal houses throughout the world, will not be attending my son, the king's wedding celebrations?"
"Well, actually," Rachel said meekly. "They are coming. The Queen of Greece sent invitations inviting them to their daughter's nuptials. They have responded: they're all coming."
Helena looked murderous.
Both Rachel and Spencer were deathly silent. She knew what this meant. Since she was the one sending the invitations…
They dared snub me?! Helena raged. Me? The Queen of England? Well, Queen Mother. She hated the fact that somebody was taking her place.
And that soon she would be relegated to royal mother, and mother-in-law. Or maybe even grandma. She shuddered.
A man watched in a van, nearby.
The huge truckloads of flowers were being carted in, but not in the masses. The queens of Greece and Britain wanted to see examples of the flowers first, and their arrangements before being chosen as the decorations for the venue. According to his sources, the bride was mostly trying to keep the peace between her mother and her groom's mother.
A perfect opportuntiy to strike.
Yes, for it needed to be done. They had taken something from him. Something priceless.
One way or another, this wedding would not go on ahead. And if somebody had to die to fulfil it, then they will.