A/N: LONGEST CHAPTER TO DATE

TRIGGER WARNING: character death

Henry makes to interrupt but Regina quickly hushes him with look and a hand on his shoulder.

*E*E*E*E*E*

It's been nearly a year. Almost a full year since the coronation, since her sister became Queen of Andalasia. A year of bedtime stories for young Prince Edward and of midnight rendezvous with Prince Charles. A year of helping her sister and of sitting by the elder King's bedside, wiping his brow and listening to stories about the kingdom and its allies.

And now it was time. King Edward doesn't have much time left. His children have gathered. King Andrew was there, his daughter Victoria, the new Queen of Voumid, and Princes Charles, Nicholas, Otto, and Princess Beatrice were all either still living in the kingdom, or summoned back from the neighboring kingdoms. His children have been with him all day, meaning he hasn't needed Narissa to sit with him. She's been free to spend her time with the youngest prince.

He's been growing and changing so quickly. He is so close to taking his first steps alone that Narissa has had him on his feet as much as possible, hoping it happens before the king leaves this world for the next. Right now, she sits in front of the young prince on the floor patting her hands with his, singing his favorite game song.

That is, until a handmaiden knocks at the door, "Miss?" she calls, drawing Narissa's attention, "The King has requested the prince's presence for goodbyes."

She nods and waits for the girl to leave, "Come now, Young Prince. It's time to see your grandfather." She picks him up and walks toward the old king's bedchambers. She meets her sister, waiting for them outside the doors. "Your Majesty," Narissa says, bowing slightly.

Her sister rolls her eyes, "You don't always have to do that," she says for the millionth time.

Narissa looks affronted, "And become 'the farmer without etiquette'? I don't think so."

"No one would say that about you. You're the sister of the queen."

Narissa smirks, "But it's fun to tease you."

The queen huffs but takes her stepson from her sister, kissing her cheek and whispering, "Thank you."

"Of course; I'll wait out here," Narissa promises.

Dovie nods and steps inside, letting the door close behind her. It's barely been a minute before Charles steps out of the room, smiling at her, "He wants to see you."

"Pardon?" Narissa asks, unsure what he's asking.

Charles takes her hand, "My father. He wants to see you in here with us."

"Why?"

"You've been with him the most recently. Of course he wants you to be in here." He pulls her inside where she quickly removes her hand from his grasp. No one knows about their midnight rendezvous or the time they spend together with young Prince Edward.

"Ah there she is," the old king rasps, beckoning her closer.

"Your Majesty," she greets, moving to kneel at his bedside, kissing his ring. "You are looking happy, Your Grace."

"Why wouldn't I be? I have all of my favorite people with me to wish me farewell." He squeezes her hand, "I have a request."

"Of course. Anything," she promises.

"Marry my son."

"I beg your pardon?" she asks, eyes widening as she glances from the king to Charles.

The dying king smiles, "You're not very secretive, my dear."

"We all know," the youngest child, Otto, says with a laugh.

"You're actually really obvious," Princess Beatrice adds with a smirk.

Narissa's eyes couldn't get any wider, but when she locks eyes with Charles they soften as he smiles at her.

A squeeze to her hand draws her attention back to the king. "Please, dear, grant the wish of a dying man."

She smiles, "Of course, Your Majesty."

"Then it shall be," King Andrew says from his spot behind her.

Narissa is suddenly very nervous, was this the right thing? Or is this just the dying wish of a senile old man? Before she can get too lost in her thoughts, the young Prince Edward makes his presence known by releasing a squeal. Everyone turns and smiles as the queen brings him toward his grandfather, placing him beside the man on the bed. "Well, hello, young namesake," the old king coos at his grandson.

The young prince leans forward and grabs ahold of the blanket resting over the king.

The king does his best to sit forward, and with help from Narissa, he leans up and kisses the top of his grandson's head, "You will do great things, my boy." He lays back down and looks to all the people around him with a small smile. "All of you will do great things. Look forward to what will come, but smile fondly at our past," he takes a breath. Be kind, love one another." He takes another ragged breath, shallower than the others. "I must be going, the fog is rising." And with that, he closed his eyes. There was a moment of silence before Princess Beatrice released a sob, and is quickly wrapped in her sister's arms.

That's when King Andrew steps outside and brings in the handmaidens to clean his body as they prepare him for the ceremony. Everyone is ushered out and moves toward the king's study. Once there, everyone is given a drink and King Andrew smiles when he gives one to Narissa, "Shall I start the planning?"

Narissa looks nervous, "Your Majesty," she starts.

He holds up a hand, "I know Narissa," he smiles, "We won't start until after the kingdom is out of mourning." He squeezes her arm softly, "But this is something he wanted. Something we all want for you and Charles. When you're ready." She nods and he moves on to talk with his wife.

"Hello," Charles says, coming to stand beside her.

"Hello," she greets, nodding her head in acknowledgment, but choosing to focus her eyes on the drink in her hand.

"Are you alright?" Charles asks, worrying that Narissa would not accept his proposal. Well, the proposal by him, given by his father. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea. They had been spending a lot of time together, sneaking moments when they thought no one was looking, but apparently his entire family knew. What he was most excited about was the fact that they supported his decision. Everyone knows that Lady Narissa makes sure the castle runs smoothly and keeps the king and queen happy, that's why everyone loves her. That and the fact that she's a joy to be around, always ready with a soft smile and a listening ear. And for the royal family to support Charles' decision to marry her is surprising. Andrew was able to pick the queen to wed because it was his second wedding, and he was in line for the throne, Prince Charles is second in line behind his nephew; but once the queen gives birth, that lineage will continue to grow. He should have been shipped off to a neighboring kingdom like his older sister Victoria was to become queen, or how Louis became the Duke of Ibriles, or how Beatrice, Nicholas, and Otto will be soon. Yet he stayed here, at his father's side. And now they were allowing him to wed the woman of his choosing, and a commoner at that.

"No," Narissa answers honestly. When the prince looks up at her in shock she turns her attention to him completely and asks, "Why are you doing this?"

"Wha- why-" he sighs, "what do you mean?"

"This. Courting me. You should be off with a duchess or a baroness or even a princess, ready to lead a kingdom. Yet, you spend your nights walking the grounds with a handmaiden. Why?"

He takes her free hand in his, "You are much more than a handmaiden, Narissa. You have to know that."

"Why?" she whispers again, trying hard not to get lost in his endless chocolate eyes.

"Because you're special. You're the only one I want to spend my time with." Her eyes fill with tears and he smiles softly, "Please don't push me away because you're scared or worried about repercussions. You've already gained the favor of both kings. But even if you didn't, I would still choose you. Over and over, my darling Narissa."

She scoffs, her emotions making it difficult to talk, "Don't say things like that," she chastises.

"It's the truth, and if you need me to say that to you every minute of every day for the rest of forever, I will," he promises.

She studies him closely. Looking at his eyes, the way they twinkle like the stars in the sky. The way his cheeks dimple when he smiles, noticing her stare. She looks back into his eyes, "I believe you," she tells him hoarsely, with a smile taking over her face.

His smile is contagious, and he squeezes her hand, "Are you ready?"

"No," Narissa answers honestly, never looking away from his eyes.

"Will you be?" he asks.

"Yes," she whispers with a soft smile. His answering smile grows wider and he wraps her in his arms, hugging her close.

*E*E*E*E*E*

She can't believe it. She's actually a princess. Well, her official title with be the Duchess of Yoryn. Her new older brother gave her and her new husband a small township to rule over, right near the ocean. But for now, they're traveling to the summer palace. They will arrive a few days before the rest of the royal family is set to leave the winter palace and meet them. Charles and Narissa leave right after their wedding to have some time together before the rest of the family shows up.

They couldn't be happier. It was stressful leading up to the wedding, but standing at the altar hands encased in her husband's, she knew there was no place she'd rather be. And now here they were, at the palace on the sea, waiting for the rest of the family to arrive.

That never happens.

A messenger rushes into the summer palace, which has hardly any staffers within the walls, most stayed behind to help the rest of the royal family travel. "Your Grace," he says, running into the room. He pauses, hands on knees to catch his breath. When he stands upright he sees he has the attention of both the Prince and Duchess. "There's been a fire," he says, still out of breath.

"Excuse me?" Charles asks, stepping toward the messenger.

"A fire, sir. It seems the royal carriages had an accident when they left this morning to continue their journey. Something happened, but fire destroyed the carriages."

"Where?" he asks, moving closer to the messenger to give him a steadying hand.

"Half a days ride from here, sir."

"Then let's go," he says, leading the messenger out of the room. He turns to see his new wife, frantic. "I'll return soon, my dear," he promises.

"That doesn't concern me as I'll be with you." She leaves no room for argument and one look into her eyes tells Charles there's no denying her. Not that he ever could.

"Your Grace, I would have to insist-" the messenger starts, worried about a woman slowing them down.

"And I will deny. Now, lead the way messenger," Narissa says, leaving the room with a swish of her dress.

The messenger looks to the prince in shock. The Prince merely shrugs, "She's better on a horse than anyone I know. And she insists on coming with us. I will not challenge her."

"Yes, sir," the messenger says, heading back to his exhausted horse.

"Let your horse rest, you may take another from our stables."

"Thank you, Your Grace."

And with that, the men head into the stables only to find the Duchess, with a handful of knights ready on their horses, and two horses being saddled by the stable boys.

*E*E*E*E*E*

They see the smoke before they come upon the carriages. Everyone but the messenger is off their horses and searching the rubble immediately. The Duchess lets out a sob when she finds part of a shoe. A shoe belonging to her sister.

The prince is beside her in an instant, holding her up as she grasps at the ashes around her. "It is not safe here, my love," he whispers in her ear as he leads her out of the embers. From a safer distance, they look to see two burning piles of what appear to be carriages. "Where are the bodies?" Charles calls to no one in particular.

One of the knights stands, "I have two over here, Your Highness."

Another knight stands from the other burning rubble, "I see one here, sir."

"Where are the others?" he asks aloud.

It's then that Narissa hears a baby cry. She is out of her husband's arms and rushing towards the sound without a second thought. Right into the burning embers of a carriage.

"Narissa!" Charles shouts, grabbing her and pulling her away from the burning wood.

"Let me go, Charles!" she yells, trying to get away from him and toward the crying.

"You cannot go in there," he reasons, pulling her toward him.

"But it's Michael, I can hear him crying!" She tries and fails to get away.

"There's no crying, Narissa. There's no one left," he whispers into her hair, holding her as she tries to pull away. Two of the knights go and move the piece of wood she was sure was crying just a minute ago.

She dissolves into sobs, clinging to her husband as she realizes everyone is gone. Her sister, her new siblings, her nephews; everyone is gone. Taken from her without her knowledge. She wants to scream and she feels a fire burning inside of her. She needs to throw something, break something, anything to make this pain go away. Her wrists begin to burn, as if someone took metal from the blacksmith's fire and wrapped her arms in it. She releases her husband and pulls back one of her sleeves to see the metal bangles around her wrists glowing and burning her skin. She screams in agony before everything goes black.

Narissa wakes to find herself laying on the ground, resting over her husband. She sits forward and clutches her wrists. "We'll get those bandaged when no one is around," Charles whispers into her ear, rubbing her arms gently.

She nods but stands, only flinching slightly at the sharp pain she feels in her wrists. "How long was I asleep?" She asks.

"Not long," Charles answers, standing and offering his wife a steadying hand against her back. "The knights just finished digging through the fires." He sighs and shakes his head at her hopeful look, "They found nothing but ashes. No signs of anyone," he chokes thinking about his family burning in their carriages, unable to escape. "No life," he whispers.

Narissa reaches forward and holds her palm again his cheek. There's no need for words, they're both going to need time to grieve. And what comes next? Neither knows and no one wants to ask.

Before Narissa removes her hand they hear a scream. Well, more of a shout. They both whirl around to see two figures running from the woods.

"Is that-" Charles doesn't finish because the figures are close enough to see. Both he and Narissa take off in a sprint. It's harder for Narissa, in her full dress, but she makes do. The figures meet and are engulfed in arms.

"Charlie," the figures cry, wrapping their arms around their big brother.

"Otto, Bea, thank god you're alright," he sighs, holding them close.

Beatrice is the first to step back, "Narissa," she says, eyes full of tears.

Narissa holds out her arms and is instantly holding a sobbing girl to her, whispering that she's safe, over and over. It's then that she hears it. She looks up from Beatrice to see tiny Prince Edward hanging in a basket on Otto's back. She looks at them both hopefully and they shake their heads.

"We were the only ones that got out," Otto says, helping Charles get Edward off his back.

"What happened?" Charles asks, holding his nephew in one arm and wrapping his other around the brother that, until a few moments ago, he thought was dead.

It's Beatrice that answers, still clinging tightly to Narissa, "We don't know. We stopped because the littlest prince would not settle in the carriage. Otto and I took Edward and were playing in the grass. We could hear arguing from the first carriage, and this...this...screech." She shudders at the memory. "And then there was this dragon above us."

Both Charles and Narissa stand up straight, "A dragon?" Narissa questions.

"Dragons don't come this close to the sea," Charles points out.

Otto shrugged, "It was here. We didn't know what to do, it was circling the carriages. So we took Edward and ran for the trees. That monster," he spits the word, "burned everything down and then just left."

"Your Highnesses," a knight calls, moving in front of the royals. "This area isn't secure. We need to get you someplace safe."

Charles nods, handing his nephew to his new wife. "Alright, do we know if any of the horses got away?" he asks no one in particular.

"We caught a few over by the trees after the dragon left. The others are...gone," Otto says.

"Grab them. Then we'll head back to the summer palace. It's our closest option."

"Go," the knight responds sending one jogging toward the trees. "But, Your Majesty, I have to respectfully disagree, there are not enough knights at the summer castle without the cavalry that was traveling with your family."

Charles gives a confused look at the head knight.

The head knight knows the problem, "With your brother gone, you are now the acting king. Until the proper coronation. But for now, you are King Charles. You have acceded the throne upon your brother's death. And you will be the acting king until your coronation."

Narissa stares at her husband and then at the little boy in her arms.

"He's too young, Father would never have allowed an infant to rule. He created laws to prevent that," Otto explains. It's then that the knight returns with the two horses.

"That's enough of a history lesson. Let's get out of here," Beatrice says, fixing her skirts and pushing her hair out of her face.

"We have more knights at the summer palace. Enough to get us back to the main castle," Charles states.

The lead knight nods, "We need to regroup." He turns to the messenger, who has not left the side of his horse. "You must go ahead, tell the others what happened and that we will be returning in two days time."

"It's a three day ride to the summer castle. There's no way we'll make it in time," Otto argues.

"It's a three day ride by carriage, Your Highness," the knight explains. "We will not be riding by carriage."

"We'll be riding through the night on horseback," Narissa says, resituating the young boy in her arms.

"Exactly, Your Majesty," the knight says, bowing his head.

Narissa cringes at the new title. Who would've thought she'd miss being called Madame? She smiles a tight smile toward her husband, who brings her her horse and holds their nephew while she climbs atop the horse. When the toddler is seated securely in the saddle, held snugly to her front, the rest of her family and their knights saddle up, heading for the summer castle.

*E*E*E*E*E*

It's been a week since they buried their family. Well, since they held a ceremony for five of their family members. And now there's a coronation. A double coronation. A day that was joyous for her sister, but is full of heartache for Narissa. The only thing holding her together is Charles' hand around hers.

She puts on a smile as her heart shatters. The crowns are placed upon their heads and the crowd cheers. She clings tightly to her husband's hand, a smile that doesn't reach her eyes plastered across her face as Charles escorts her from the room. Once they're away from the public's eyes, he wraps her in his arms as she cries.

"It's alright, dear," he whispers, "This will work out. We will be good at this." He rubs his hand up and down her back, "I promise. We'll do our best to protect these lands and make sure this never happens again." She holds him close as he continues to whisper to her, "We'll find who did this. We'll get justice."

Narissa shakes her head, "I don't want justice. I want her back."

"I know, love, but we'll have to settle for justice. Come now, dry your tears, I'm sure we'll be wanted in the ballroom."

"I do not wish to celebrate, Charles."

He nods, "We'll get you out of there as soon as we can. A quick appearance, then I'll tell everyone you need your rest. It's been a long day for everyone."

"And you'll come back?" she asks, nervous to have him out of her sight.

"Of course I will. I will always come back to you," he promises.

"You better," she grumbles, holding him close once more. She stands, and with a deep breath she wipes away all evidence of her tears. She straightens her crown and with another breath, holds her hand to her husband-and her new king. They move into the ballroom as they will enter every room from now on. Together. Hand in hand.