Victoria

If he could run away, I decided I could certainly do the same.

Besides, I had to. I knew what Mama and Sir John were planning and I wouldn't let them do it. Not willingly. I would never be caged in that way. Not again.

I hadn't forgotten Kensington. The bleak emptiness that I felt whenever my thoughts drifted to my lonely, childhood prison would always be with me. I carried it like a sharp piece of shrapnel, embedded in my skin, never quite healed over.

Be strong. I reminded myself, setting my expression, blinking away any leftover tears that might dare show themselves. And I could be strong, just not here. Not now. Not in this palace, not in this city, not without him.

He didn't understand. He never understood, though I thought I'd made it clear enough. He thought he held me back. He thought he would drag me down from the resplendence of the English throne and bury me in the mud of scandal. But I didn't care.

Don't you understand? We can fly away from any scandal…because you, and only you, give me wings.

And if he truly thought that Mama and Sir John would stop if he stepped away…well, I could forgive his foolishness in that, I suppose. He didn't know them as I did. I knew that Sir John would never stop. No matter what. And in his persistence, I might never escape his grasping clutches.

William could dismiss Sir John with a simple laugh, ever wry and always unimpressed by my former guardian's schemes. Just one huff of laughter and Sir John was forced into silence, stewing but unable to form any sort of reply. I don't think William knew he held such power and, if I told him it was power, he'd likely say I spoke nonsense. But he didn't understand. He couldn't understand.

I could never laugh Sir John away. There was no conviction in it. Sir John's power over me was deeply ingrained, made up of a thousand little moments that I could never wash out.

When I was twelve, I remember he took my wrist roughly, stopping me from going down the stairs by myself. It was nothing more than his fingers cruelly wrapped around my wrist, digging against the bone and tendons. But I was a child and no match for his strength. And there was something that sparked in his dark eyes that spoke of hatred and loathing, power and hunger…and I found myself frozen, all defiance fleeing in the face of a man who saw me as the avenue to his darkest ambitions.

Even now, I can conjure the feel of his fingers around my wrist, pressing, digging and…oh, I could not stay a minute longer.

In Skerrett's dress and with my hair arranged simply, in two long braids, like a common wash-girl or flower-seller in the street, I melted into the background with the rest of them.

My heart had been beating wildly since I left the palace. The fear of being discovered was not easy to shake, especially in those first few miles. I knew that if I could get out of London without anyone recognizing me, I'd have a chance. But that was easier said than done.

I'd raided the desk in William's office for money. I found enough for carriage fare and, once a safe distance from the city, I pawned one of three plain, gold necklaces I'd stuffed beneath the blanket in Dash's basket. I had two gemstones as well and a diamond ring, but I wouldn't sell those unless I had to. There would be far more questions asked of a girl trying to sell off crown jewels, than a girl with a length of gold chain.

And there were questions enough anyway.

"The craftsmanship on this necklace is stunning," the old man behind the counter of the pawn shop in Liverpool commented to me.

"My grandmother had elegant taste in jewelry," I replied, which was true enough. Portraits of both my grandmothers would convince anyone of their regal splendor, although I certainly wouldn't be sharing any family portraits with the pawn broker. But yes, Sophia Charlotte, my father's mother, had been the owner of this particular chain. It was simple but beautiful. And, more importantly, useful…its worth would buy me ship's passage to Ireland.

I had settled on Ireland in my head as soon as I left the palace, under dark of night, Dash sleeping quietly in the basket on my arm. It was romantic nonsense, of course. But I needed a green country full of old magic. I needed a few strands of the sea between me and the monarchy. I needed to think, I needed to disappear.

I could have crossed the channel to the Continent or perhaps even the Atlantic to America. But I knew my heart couldn't take that sort of distance. The Irish Sea was nearly too far.

Too far from him.

Was I foolish to trust that he would know where to find me? I had left no note, too afraid that it would be discovered and deciphered by someone else and that I would be dragged back to Buckingham Palace before he made this right.

For he must make it right. He must understand. How could I make him see? I would never love another. I would never accept that he didn't love me back. Not when it was written across his face so plainly. My life was worthless without him, in my heart was a gaping hole—and not even an empire could fill it.

As I boarded the ship in Liverpool, these were the thoughts swirling around my head. I set Dash and his basket down by the rail as I took a moment to gather myself. The nerve and danger of what I had done already and what I was about to do, a queen abandoning her own shores…I pressed my fingers to my eyelids and took a deep breath. In this moment, I drew the attention of the ship's captain.

"Miss, will your parents be joining you?" he mistook me for a forlorn child, not a grieving woman. A hot retort leapt to my lips. But it was a queen's offense that I felt and I suppressed the reply admirably, merely shaking my head.

"I'm of age, sir, but thank you for asking," I replied steadily, more humble than I have ever been, in a calm tone that was utterly false, considering the turbulent emotions I was currently sifting through.

"Oh, my apologies, ma'am," the grizzled sailor dipped his head with a kind smile and I suddenly had a reckless notion to…

"Sir?" I called him back, timidly, after he had already turned away. He returned to my side, mild concern etched in his weather-beaten features.

"Yes?" he asked, ready to be of service. I was used to this sort of manner in men…and women. I realized that I could no longer expect it, but was grateful that this stranger, who didn't know me as Victoria or even Alexandrina, was willing to assist me nonetheless.

"Captain, would I be able to leave a letter in your keeping?" I wondered quietly. "I'm afraid a family emergency has made it so I must depart immediately but I do think that my—that a gentlemen may inquire after me on these docks in the near future."

His kind smile deepened. My story was vague enough, but perhaps familiar enough, at least for a sailor on the Liverpool docks. He probably assumed I was fleeing a disapproving family, with my lover to follow close behind.

God…if only.

"Of course, lass," the captain answered simply. "And what name will this gentlemen be seeking?"

I hadn't thought. I couldn't think. The name spilled out before I had a chance to second guess the choice,

"Elizabeth," I stated immediately, the memory of a dance and his arms around me giving me strength. "He'll be asking after Elizabeth."