Chapter Thirty-Five
Ruth was relieved to arrive at work just after ten that morning. Royal duties had always exhausted her, but there was something different nowadays. Having Uncle Edmund as king was different. Despite the fact that everyone around him was the same as it had been with Grandfather, Edmund seemed determined to make his mark. The coronation had been arranged much faster than any in history. Rarely had a monarch been crowned within six months of acceding to the monarchy; Edmund had his coronation four months to the day from King Richard's death.
And now that he was king, he was trying to determine the familial division of labors. Before, the four royals—Grandfather, Uncle Edmund, Dad, and Ruth—each had their sphere of responsibility. Ruth's had always been the smallest both because she hated it and she was a lesser royal compared to the two princes. But now there were only three of them, and Dad had to be careful due to his illness and treatments. Queen Juliet, whose title still made Ruth want to wretch, did the things she liked and nothing more. She liked anything where she could dress up and be the center of attention. Ruth liked anything where she could be finished in an hour and have as little fuss as possible made for her.
Today, Ruth had been attending a meeting with the various advisors so the system could be reevaluated yet again. This was the fourth time in six months. Ruth was supposed to open a factory out in the countryside, but it was decided that Dad should take that one. The speech for the event would have to be rewritten now that the prince would be there. Ruth had instead been assigned to attend an anniversary performance for the ballet. Apparently Juliet didn't want to go once it had been decided that she would not be going onstage to give a speech. Ruth would gladly attend the performance and be taken backstage to meet the company and pose for a photo. And, even better, Harry would be allowed to go with her for that. They'd always had a nice time at the ballet before. Perhaps she could find something really beautiful to wear that he might like to see her in. They'd been married almost three years now, and Ruth felt slight pressure to keep things interesting and exciting between them.
But now that it had all been decided, she could finally go into work for the day. She had a mountain of reports to review before she could summarize them for Harry. The delay in her morning was certainly an inconvenience.
Ruth left Tom outside the door to Foreign Intelligence as always. She hung up her coat on the rack and left her purse by her desk before going straight into Harry's office.
He looked up as soon as she entered. "Hello, darling," he greeted sweetly. "You're lucky I love you or I'd be annoyed by the unannounced interruption."
"Do you really want me to start knocking on your door?" Ruth laughed.
"I doubt you'd be able to develop the habit at this point. It's been, what, six years since we started working together?"
"Something like that."
Harry just hummed and stood up from his chair. He gave a big stretch before crossing over to kiss her.
"Been busy today?" she asked. She smiled as Harry wrapped her in his arms and held her there. There was a time when she would have been mortified by such an action in at work, especially when the blinds were open in his office. But now, they were settled and married, and everyone knew it. They still worked just as well as they always had. Better, even.
He rested his forehead against hers, like he sometimes did when he was feeling a bit weary. "Glued to my desk for the last three hours," he told her.
"Poor love," she soothed, running her fingers through his hair. She was noticing that he might possibly be starting to thin, but he was over forty, and that gorgeous thick head of curly hair of his was not likely to last forever. Ruth would just have to enjoy it as long as she could.
Harry pulled back somewhat suddenly. "I'll never get back to work if you keep that up," he chided lightly.
Ruth just smiled and made sure his hair was put back in place. "I'm sorry."
He just waved off her apology and changed the subject. "Did you get things sorted at the palace? Or do you have to go back and do it all again in another ten days or whatever?"
She appreciated his understanding. It was more helpful than she could ever possibly say to have her husband there to commiserate with her on the annoyance of royalty. He felt just as she did: the monarchy was to be respected as an institution and never mocked or belittled, but the pomp and circumstance of it all was quite an exhausting hassle for those of them who did not want to be in the spotlight.
Ruth opened her mouth to tell him about the ballet, but the event wasn't for another three days. And they could discuss that at home. She wanted to tell him something that might actually interest him more than another event they would be required to attend.
"Things were sorted. But when I got there, you'll never guess what I overheard."
"What?" he asked, his eyes alight with intrigue.
"Edmund and Juliet were having a fight. Apparently he's been getting pressure from the various advisors about producing an heir. And she's not to keen to have children. Though I don't think that really surprises anyone," Ruth said.
Harry frowned. His brow furrowed in consternation.
"What?" she prompted.
"Well, I wonder…they've been married for how long?"
"Eight years." In all fairness to Edmund and his advisors, that was a long time to be married without having any children.
He hummed. "I have a vague recollection of something she said to me once, all those years ago…"
Ruth felt her own countenance go dark. She did not enjoy being reminded that her husband had once had a torrid, awful affair with Juliet. She had come to accept that he'd had affairs with lots of people. Juliet was the one she still could not get over. Ruth just tried not to think about. "Recollection of what?" she asked, her tone flat.
"Well she threatened her father with getting pregnant out of wedlock with me, but I seem to recall she told me that it wouldn't happen but her father didn't know that."
"Do you think she was taking precautions?"
"Oh I'm certain she was. But I don't know if perhaps those precautions had…lasting effects."
That was certainly something to be concerned about, for Ruth in particular. "Harry, if Juliet can't have children…Harry, he only married her because she was young and could produce heirs!"
"Well hopefully she's just being obstinate and is still able to conceive. She's still young enough for it."
Ruth sighed. "And if she can't, hopefully he finds out and he can…I don't know, find someone else? I don't actually know how divorce works for the monarch. I don't know if it's ever been an issue before." Suddenly the issue of Juliet's fertility was extremely important to her. "Harry, if she can't have children, there won't be an heir to the throne."
"And what would that mean?"
"It would mean that Dad becomes the next king. And after him would be me." Now there was a horrifying thought. Ruth was not born to be queen. Ruth did not want to be queen. Not in the least. The very idea of it made her vaguely sick.
Harry could see that Ruth was getting herself a bit worked up. He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her forehead. "This is nothing to worry about. Not yet, darling. Edmund's only just become king. He's what, fifty?"
"Dad'll be fifty next month. Edmund's fifty-two," she corrected.
"Alright, well, Juliet's only thirty-three. Neither of them is too old. Doctors can help Juliet conceive, I'm sure. Medicine's come a long way. They'll have a child soon enough and Edmund will reign for another thirty years at least, and then his child will be the next king or queen. There is nothing for you to worry about, Ruth," he said comfortingly.
Only she didn't feel comforted. "But what if they don't have children?"
"Why don't we tackle that particular unlikelihood when it becomes a reality, alright?"
Ruth buried her face in Harry's neck and groaned in frustration. He just chuckled at her fit of petulance.
"Come on, you've got reports to review, don't you?" he reminded.
She had forgotten about work almost entirely. "Yes, I do. I'd better go do that." She pulled back and kissed him one last time. "I'll see you later. And by the way, we're going to the ballet on Friday."
"Are we?"
"Yes, it's the fiftieth anniversary and I've been assigned that royal task. I assumed you'd like to join me."
"Are you going to wear the burgundy dress?" he teased.
"I think you know the answer to that," she replied, daring him to ask her to wear it. That particular gown no longer got to see the light of day. Now that Ruth had photographers following her everywhere, she could not get away with such things. And not to mention she'd gotten a bit fat in married life and she doubted if the burgundy dress would even fit her anymore.
Harry smiled. "You look beautiful in anything you wear."
Ruth laughed, "My husband the clever charmer."
"I don't care what I am, Ruth, just so long as I'm a good husband to you."
"You are," she reassured him. "But right now you're being a terrible boss, keeping me distracted from my work."
"Alright, out with you," he said, dismissing her and sitting back down at his desk.
Ruth crossed to the door and paused, looking back at him one more time. He looked back with that beautiful besotted look on his fact that she loved so much. And she felt that everything would somehow be alright.