"We shall be arriving shortly, Your Majesty."
Emma lifted her head from the documents she'd been scanning to offer Leroy a nod of acknowledgement before she dropped her eyes back down to the block of text she had been reading. It was the 19th of December, and as per tradition, she had boarded a train in London that morning to head for her country estate at Sandringham for the remainder of the holidays.
It was a ritual that stretched back generations, to when the house had first been purchased by one of her ancestors. Every year, the reigning monarch would journey to Norfolk and host Christmas for their entire royal family. It was a tradition that Emma had enjoyed when she was a child. Christmas was a great opportunity to spend time with her cousins, playing freely without the fear of an intrusive camera recording their every move.
After the death of her grandmother, however, Emma had wanted nothing more than to remain in London, locked away from the rest of her family while she processed her loss and what it meant for her future. Her advisors had been adamant that she should keep things as normal as possible, if not for her own sake, then to show the world that she was perfectly competent at the job she'd been handed. So every year she would slap on a smile to do just that, all while hating the festive season a little more with every one that passed.
As the buildings outside the window morphed into sprawling fields and wide rivers, Emma put away the note cards she'd been working on and excused herself to freshen up a little. It wouldn't matter to the press that she'd spent two hours on a train that morning; if she had a single hair out of place it would dominate the headlines that day, rather than the announcement her team had released while she was travelling, about the charitable initiative one of her patronage's had launched for the holidays. Emma would much rather the charity get the attention than her hair or clothes, so it was imperative that she looked as close to perfect as possible.
The train was just pulling in to Kings Lynn station when she finally made her way back to her seat, smoothing her hands down the simple black dress she was wearing. (Her seamstress hated the white footprint pattern on it, but Emma thought it was cute.) She knew that the rest of the train would disembark before she was permitted to step off it, so that gave her plenty of time to gather up her notes and documents, and tuck them safely into her bag before she slipped on the long black coat she'd brought along with her.
"After you, Your Majesty."
"Thank you, Leroy."
Emma fixed on her brightest smile as she made her way down the aisle and out of the open carriage doors. She wasn't surprised to find a small group of people gathered on the platform, phones in hand, picturing the moment. However, instead of offering the people there her full attention, Emma turned first to the attendants standing beside the train who had been with her for her journey.
"Thank you so much for taking good care of me," she told them, holding out her hand for shaking.
"Oh, uh… it was a pleasure, Your Majesty," one of them stuttered out, gripping her hand loosely in his own for a fraction of a second before he let it go. The woman standing next to him held on for a little longer, but she still let go fast enough for Emma to know that neither of them had been briefed that she would be one of their passengers that morning.
When she'd finished with the staff that had gathered for her arrival, Emma made her way towards the small group of passengers that had waited behind for her.
"Hi there. How are you all doing?" she asked. "Are you here for some Christmas shopping?"
There were a few nods from the crowd and a couple of brave individuals reached forward to offer their hands for shaking, but Emma was pretty certain the menacing figures behind her back were dampening most of the crowd's enthusiasm.
"I need to get a few last-minute gifts before the big day too. I swear, it feels like only last week we were ringing in the New Year."
The crowd gave a small titter of laughter and Emma knew that she wouldn't get much more from them. They were far too stunned by the events of the morning to give her any kind of decent conversation.
"Well, I hope you all have a very merry Christmas and wonderful New Year. Take care of yourselves," she instructed, before straightening her spine and heading for the exit of the station.
As she'd expected, a car was already waiting outside the front door, making it difficult for regular commuters to get in and out of the building. This was part of the reason why she'd wanted to break the tradition of using public transport when she'd ascended the throne. Most of the time, her presence was more of a burden than a blessing for those who worked or used the same services - but her team wouldn't hear of it, and she'd caved under their pressure. Thankfully, in the years that had followed, Emma had found her voice on a number of issues and had become better at expressing her wishes and desires. It was just a shame that the Christmas traditions seemed too well-loved by the nation for her to even consider changing them now.
"Good morning, Your Majesty," her driver greeted, as she slipped into the back seat of the Range Rover and then reached for her seatbelt.
"Good morning, George. How's the family?"
"Very well thank you, Ma'am. I'm sure you must be excited to see yours again this week."
"Very," Emma said, hoping that her voice didn't sound as fake to George as it did to her ears.
Three days she would have to spend with the rest of her family, celebrating the Christmas holidays. Three days didn't seem like much to many people, but to Emma, it was an eternity. She would have given anything at that moment to be back at Kensington Palace, celebrating the holidays with the children she'd met earlier in the month… or even on an airforce base in Cyprus. Anywhere that wasn't where her aunts, uncles, and cousins would be.
Emma's look here is based on Jen's look arriving at Sundance Film Festival in January 2015. (Thanks for helping me pick it, Tori.)
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