Chapter Fifty-Four

Ruth felt like she was going to explode. Everything was too loud. There was too much going on. She couldn't keep up. It was all just too much!

They were supposed to be out the door to travel to the university to see Catherine graduate. Their eldest daughter was graduating third in her class, top in her department. Harry and Ruth were both so proud of her. She'd always worked so hard in school, and university had made her quite a serious student. She had gotten to have her fun and her independence, but she'd grown into a mature and brilliant young woman, now with the credentials to show for it. Harry was going to present her with a rather exorbitant gift on the occasion of her graduation, which had actually been Ruth's idea: full funding for an international trip for the next three months. The Royal Guard had arranged the whole thing for her safety, and she would have the freedom—with the security team, of course—to travel the world and see everything she'd spent these last four years learning in her colonial studies courses.

But as they were trying to leave on time, Ruth was contending with Emilia, now nearly two, having a rather spectacular screaming tantrum. Emmy was on the floor, bellowing at the top of her lungs and grabbing at her mother's leg and trying to shake it.

And if that wasn't enough, Ruth was trying to finish feeding Charlotte. It was by bottle, thankfully. Ruth had given her final breastfeed about a week ago. Her milk was nearly all gone, but her body's hormones were still quite fragile. Her reactions to things like her crying child were not entirely rational just yet. Sweet Charlotte was unperturbed by her sister's screeching on the floor below her.

The biggest problem, though, was Graham. He was shouting over Emmy's tantrum, giving Ruth what was perhaps the worst news she'd received since her uncle died.

"See the thing is, I'm already behind in my degree," he tried to explain.

Ruth wanted to snarl at him and tell him to take summer courses and catch up, but she could not seem to form words right now.

"And that's why it's the perfect time," he continued.

"It's never the perfect time!" she lamented, finding her voice. Though that voice did crack. Oh hell, she was going to start crying and ruin her makeup.

"Please just listen, Ruth," Graham implored.

"I am listening," she shouted over Emilia. "I'm listening to you tell me that you want to drop out of the best university in the country, one of the best in the entire world, and you want to throw it all away to waste your life!"

Graham's jaw dropped. "I'm not wasting my life by joining the army!"

"You getting killed is a waste of a very good life!" Ruth contradicted.

Before Graham could respond to that, Harry entered the room. "What on earth is going on here? I come home from the florist to find the staff cowering downstairs while my family creates chaos upstairs!"

Ruth's eyes were stinging with unshed tears as the lump in her throat threatened her more and more. Graham was at a loss. Emmy was still screaming. Harry looked to each of them with confusion.

"Alright, enough!" Harry bellowed.

His tone and volume were enough to terrify Emilia into muteness. Her tears slid silently down her red face and her little chin wobbled.

"Graham, take Emilia to get calmed down and cleaned up," he instructed. "Ruth and I need to talk."

"Come on, Emmy," Graham said gently. He picked up his little sister. She willingly allowed him to do so, finally letting go of her mother's leg.

When Graham closed the door behind him, Harry turned back to Ruth. "What the bloody hell is going on?" he asked in exasperation.

"Charlotte needed feeding. Emilia didn't want to be ignored, but I couldn't give her attention while feeding Charlotte, and Graham came in t-to tell me…" She trailed off. The words were just too hideous. She could not bear it.

"To tell you what?"

Christ, this was going to be awful. Harry was going to be livid. If Ruth had been upset about Graham's news, that was nothing compared to what Harry would do. But it would be better coming from her. She could calm him down before he went and murdered his son. "He's not going back to school in the fall. He wants to join the army instead."

"Oh that."

Ruth's jaw dropped. Harry had practically rolled his eyes dismissively. "What do you mean, 'oh that'?!" she demanded.

"Yes, he told me a week ago."

"A WEEK AGO!?"

"Ruth, you're upsetting the baby," Harry informed her calmly.

Sure enough, Charlotte spit the bottle out of her mouth and started fussing. Well, the bottle was almost empty anyway.

Ruth sighed and shifted her to rest against her shoulder on the flannel. She patted Charlotte's back and took a few deep breaths before turning her attention back to her husband.

"Graham told you he was going to join the army?"

He nodded. "We discussed it. I think it's a fine idea."

Ruth felt her heart drop to her stomach. "How could you possibly think that?"

Harry looked at her incredulously. "How could I not? Ruth, you do remember that I am still a ranked officer in the army? And we both worked in a branch of the army for many years."

"That's different!"

"Why?"

"I was an intelligence analyst. I wasn't a soldier, I worked at a desk in the capitol!"

"Yes, darling, I know that," he said patronizingly.

Ruth felt like she was going insane. "Harry, you were a soldier in the army. After you got your education. And with the war on, you nearly died countless times over! Is that what you want for Graham?"

"He'll get his education eventually."

"That is a shockingly naïve statement from you," she snapped.

Harry grumbled a little. "He's a smart lad. And he likes school. He just…Ruth, he's not had the best time of it lately."

"You think I don't remember speaking to Graham after he got arrested? Being the only one in this family to see that he had a problem? You think I don't remember that our son spent two months in a rehabilitation clinic for alcohol addiction?"

"Well, strictly speaking he's my son," Harry interjected flippantly.

That was what did it. That broke her heart.

Ruth was aware of Charlotte in her arms. She handed the baby to Harry and turned sharply and rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She heard Charlotte start to cry from the jostling and the sudden loud noise. Ruth was crying too.

How could Harry say such a thing to her? How dare he say that Graham was just his son and not theirs? Even if Ruth had not given birth to that boy, she was now the only mother he had. He'd been eight years old when Jane died. Ruth had met him when he was eleven. He was twenty now. She had been in his life longer than Jane had. Surely that counted for something? Surely the four of them were a family all their own before Ruth had gotten pregnant and had Emmy and Charlotte? Did Harry think that Ruth thought of Graham and Catherine as any less of her children than the two she'd given birth to? Did she mean nothing to his life?

As she pressed a towel to her face to muffle her sobs, she heard talking on the other side of the door.

"Dad, Zaf says we'd better go if we don't want to be late," came Graham's voice.

"Yes, alright," Harry answered. "Ruth, we need to leave now."

No matter what Ruth was feeling, no matter how angry and hurt she was over this whole thing, she would not spoil the day for Catherine. That was the purpose of the day. It would not do for the whole family to not be there to support her. Never mind that Catherine, like Graham, was Harry's and apparently Harry's alone, Catherine had been a very dear friend to Ruth. She'd not let Harry's inadvertent cruelty take away from Ruth being there to see Catherine graduate.

She forced herself to calm down. Her breaths were still shaky, but she'd managed to stop crying. There wasn't much she could do for her face. She wiped the smudged makeup away and did a few swipes with powder and mascara to freshen herself up a little. There wasn't anything she could do for her red, puffy eyes. Maybe her lipstick would distract from it.

Ruth walked out of the bathroom with her head high. She went past Harry, holding Charlotte still, and Graham, holding Emilia. They'd follow, she knew.

The five of them were all in the back of the limousine a minute later. Sometimes they took separate cars, but at events such as this, it was easier for Zaf and Dimitri to secure the one vehicle. Zoe, Graham's bodyguard, would be driving a separate car behind them. Beth, Catherine's bodyguard, was already at the university with a few other officers from Adam's Leister team to secure the university.

There was a tension-filled silence. Charlotte was napping in her father's arms. Emilia was very confused about the whole thing. She reached out to her mother and patted her arm. "Mummy, are you sad?" she asked.

Her speech was getting better and better every day, and in spite of herself, Ruth smiled. "I'll be alright, lovie," she answered, brushing back her daughter's blonde curls.

"I'm really sorry, Ruth," Graham offered. "I just think that the army would be the best thing for me right now. University wasn't good for me like it was for Cat. She did so well. And I just…didn't. I need more direction. And besides, I've always wanted to go into intelligence like you and Dad. I've got to join the army first. And I can finish my degree while I'm enlisted, after my training. I looked into it all already. It's not like we're anywhere close to going to war again. And I'm not interested in combat anyway. There's lots of things I can do, and if you're going to be queen, doesn't it make more sense if I serve the country, too?"

"It doesn't much matter what I think, Graham," Ruth answered coldly.

"Of course it does!" he disagreed.

"You're not my son," she reminded him, purposefully avoiding looking at Harry as she said those words.

Graham gaped at her. "The hell I'm not! That's an awful thing to say, Ruth. I know you're not my mother, but you…well, you sort of are. I always think of you and Dad as my parents."

Ruth felt that lump in her throat come back. She didn't dare speak.

"I think I may have misspoken," Harry ventured. "Ruth, darling, when I said that Graham was my son, I only meant that you're not the only one who worries about him. And I wouldn't have ever allowed him to even consider anything I didn't think would be good for him. The army would not dare put a member of the royal family at risk. There's no need to get upset."

He had been doing quite well at making it up to her until that last remark. She whipped her head around to glare at him. "I don't think you're in any position to tell me whether there is or is not any need to get upset. But that's fine. Graham, I'm glad you've thought this through. I do wish you'd told me sooner. Though I suppose I'm not the easiest person to talk to, what with spending nearly three years being pregnant and breastfeeding babies and battling hormone fluctuations and post-partum sickness and depression all while serving as crown princess of this country as my father grows closer to death each and every day."

That certainly shut Harry and Graham up. The two of them looked at each other, not knowing what to do. Ruth just looked out the window and willed the rage and sadness to leave her. She did not often contemplate her circumstance. In a million ways, she was extremely fortunate. But it was just…well, it was just a lot to contend with. She had stumbled into a life that she had never wanted. The good parts of it were so, so good. But the difficult parts were not things that anyone other than Ruth had to deal with. The weight of the crown was burdening her more and more. Dad had been getting so much worse. The papers were starting to take note of his tired and haggard appearance. Ruth had been filling in everywhere she could. And she still got nauseous and nervous before each and every public appearance. Sam told her she was doing so well and getting much better speaking in public. But oh what she would not give to turn back the clock, to be on that yacht off the coast of Gambon with Harry on their honeymoon, just before the nightmare started to take shape. She would have given anything to wake up and find her grandfather still king.

But despite all the challenges that made her wish she could be anyone else in the world, Ruth would not give up her life for anything. Not even now, when everything felt awful. Because Emilia had rested her head against Ruth's arm and held her hand. And even from where she was sitting, Ruth could smell the distinct baby fresh smell of Charlotte napping in her father's arms. Yes, in spite of it all, Ruth knew she was fortunate. And when it was difficult, like now, there was still a lot to hold on to.