To Superdani4Ever: Oh, Veruca hates Aglaia like poison now. You can bet something BIG is coming! And Big Fat Royal Wedding in Greece, next chapter!

Yeah. Minus the direwolves, the dragons and the general coolness of knights in armour. I can't imagine Cyrus surviving against the likes of Petyr Baelish and Varys.

Unfortunately yes, the Henstridges will be blamed. Liam is starting to realise the depth of other royals' and politicians' dislike for them, he didn't know before because he never usually hung out with them. They are really mistrusted to say the least, now.

Len's going to have, ahem, an interesting time with her fashion label ;). And of course Aglaia will be happy to help. :)

Which one, the civil service or the religious one in Amsterdam with all the angry royals?

Aglaia has had a traumatic past, much like Robert. It's how she understands him and helps him get better. Helping him is also like therapy for her.

Oh, he's always going to be there for her. He'd die and kill for her if necessary, and their children.

There's going to be more flashbacks with Robert and Aglaia (I'm not going that deep though :l No way!)

No, Robert was not the one who convinced her not to become a nun. The government stopped her because there wasn't that many people in the Greek line of succession and Aglaia not marrying or having children and making a commitment towards a life like that, would not be good if they wanted more heirs. And I'm not saying yet. ;)

As for Robert and Aglaia, theirs is a really sweet and deeply passionate, yet loving and understanding relationship. I think Robert would have pictures of her taken in secret, unlike with Kathryn, because he really was dead-set on making her his queen from the start.

No, I don't own Royals. Thank E! for that!

Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now.

Len stared at the picture.

This young woman was declared one of the World's Hottest Young Royals by Forbes magazine. The princess of Thailand.

She was beautiful, Len admitted. And she was stylish and elegant, well-groomed in a way that made Len cringe.

"So, Perrine Bruyere is the designer I wanted to talk to you about," Aglaia was saying. "Looking for an apprentice." She smiled. "And that one might be you."

"So… She won't think I'm a spoiled brat?" Eleanor asked hesitantly.

"I didn't say that," Aglaia replied. "She might already have some ideas and preconceptions about you. But as it so happens I've been wearing your clothes for quite some time now, and I've asked others to do the same- high profile people and they were actually happy to do so." She smiled. "They even winked when someone asked them, and smiled. That was it. Now…" She grinned enticingly.

"Yes, but will it compare to…" Len trailed off.

"Leni," Aglaia said. "Stop comparing yourself to her. She's had years for this. You've only just begun. Besides your styles and tastes are very different. You two aren't the same."

"But what if… They think I'm crap at this?" Len asked. Her clothes weren't made professionally.

"I don't think you're crap." Aglaia said in surprise. "I took the risk of wearing your clothes out there in the public eye, and I asked others if they wanted to do the same and they did. Tell me, if you were a queen, would you risk wearing anything outside that might reflect badly on you?"

"No," Len admitted.

"Then there you have it." Aglaia replied. "Now all you have to do is impress him. Not just with your designs, but your hard work and commitment and your sincerity to do well." She held up a manila envelope. "And these are things those people who wore your clothes for free had to say about you and them."

The fashion show commenced. They were in Monaco. Len's head was poking out, as they watched the show. Princess Arinya of Thailand was there.

And her collection was astounding. It was beautiful.

The jewelled and filigreed inlays and the rich, lustrous colours and soft, floaty fabric glowed. The jewellery was beyond astonishing. The pieces proudly worn on display by the models.

And Eleanor felt herself squirm all the more.

Aglaia, meanwhile looked pointedly at Jasper, catching his gaze covertly and then looking back at Len. Jasper was the only one apart from Aglaia who knew and he also agreed with her, encouraging Len.

She would need his support now. Len was biting her lip.

Aglaia looked at the babies. Robert was with Andrew trying to keep him still, but the little boy was trying to squirm his way free. He had a fierce look on his face and she knew he would probably be interested in a career in the military when he was grown.

In contrast Will and Selena were playing on the playroom floor. Will was showing his sister some blocks, she cooed and he began piling them and seemingly directing her to pile some more on top.

Aglaia had to smile. Will seemed to have taken his role as firstborn seriously and was taking good care of his siblings. Whenever Andrew or Selena fell and the latter was about to burst into tears or in Andrew's case, work his way into a tantrum, he would give a calling cry to his mother, a nanny or his father- anyone, while carefully crawling to them, making sure his little siblings were alright.

He loved them, they loved each other.

Andrew tried squirming his way out of his father's grasp.

Selena abandoned the blocks her brother was so studiously playing with and began to crawl, or rather, drag herself to her mother.

Aglaia smiled. Selena took hold of a nearby table leg and in front of everybody's astonished eyes, began to pull herself up.

Aglaia gasped in delight, as her chubby-legged baby daughter, in front of her envious brothers' eyes, pulled herself up.

Robert's eyes were wide and a grin spread across his face in delight.

She did it.

Andrew began grunting repeatedly, crawling over to the table, but he didn't make it before somebody came in.

"Apologies, your majesties," that person was Rachel. "But we've just had a call."

"From where?" Robert asked. "From Amsterdam," Rachel replied. "Princess Penelope has gone into labour."

Aglaia tilted her head curiously. "She hasn't had the baby yet, though?"

"No ma'am." Rachel replied. "She hasn't."

Robert absorbed this in silence. "Very well, then. Rachel, can you please keep us informed?"

"Duly noted, your majesty." Rachel replied.

Penelope heaved and her normally pale face was unusually flushed.

She was trying to breathe normally. "I can't do this," she moaned.

"Yes you can." Her heavily pregnant sister said, encouragingly on skype. "Course you can. Remember, it's like having a great big poo, only instead of shit, it's a baby."

Penelope groaned- and promptly screamed.

Her sister's- seeing all the action below from the screen- eyes widened and she fainted.

"Well, that's a great help, thank Mum for withholding the Bolivian cocaine while I was pregnant, makes it really bearable, doesn't it?" Penelope said snappily.

The doctors were going around, speaking to each other in Dutch. Penelope had been photographed wearing traditional costume, but she hadn't mastered the language. Heck, she was hopeless. So she heaved and strained without knowing what the hell he was on about.

"There's something else, ma'am." Rachel said hesitantly.

"What is it?" Helena asked, lifting her head wearily.

"Veruca Popperwell… She's gone."

Helena straightened. "What?"

"The former duchess of Essex… She's nowhere to be found."

Helena nearly scrambled up. "Did you tell the king?"

"He is being informed right now," Rachel said simply.

"WHAT?!" Robert demanded.

"Where has she gone?!"

"No one knows sir, but the duchess- the former duchess of Essex received a visitor last night. It was no one special, just a deliveryman."

"Delivering what?"

"Take-outs sir." Rachel replied.

"Are you sure?" Robert asked in a deadly-quiet voice.

"Indian take-outs; lamb vindaloo and butter chicken," Spencer looked up from the report. "And a naan bread."

Robert tried to remain calm. "And when did you receive the tip-off that she had gone? And from whom?"

"From a member of security assigned to keep tabs on the former duchess," Rachel replied. "And standing by on alert. The agent reports that there was a tunnel leading from the basement to the outside. There was a taxi. It appears the former duchess must have scrambled off."

"Where?"

"To Heathrow Airport."

"But she doesn't have a diplomatic passport anymore." Robert scowled. "Is she using fake identification?"

"It's possible," Spencer admitted.

"MI6 and Scotland Yard have already questioned staff at Heathrow," Rachel put in. "It appears that the former duchess is heading for South Africa."

"To go to Swaziland," Robert muttered. He scowled further. "Maribel. And Penelope, no doubt. But she's currently in labour in Amsterdam. How is she supposed to keep in control of both daughters? And somehow, I don't think she's interested in the imminent births of her grandchildren alone."

He got that right. Veruca smiled, trying to regain some composure and dignity as she stood, face to face with the most powerful woman in Swaziland: the Queen Mother.

The queen mother was a formidable woman, her mere presence could set people quaking in their shoes.

Her title was Ndlovukati, meaning 'She-Elephant' or 'Great She-Elephant' and her son was titled the Ngwenyama or the 'Lion of Swaziland'. They ruled jointly as absolute rulers, administrative heads and spiritual ones.

It was she who presided over the Reed festival where girls would perform labour for her and dance and sing. The king normally picked his next bride from there.

The queen mother had also ruled as regent- during a power-struggle which had always appeared to make it seem as if she was innocent. She did not blame the Henstridges for their own power struggle, just their absurd inability to keep it behind closed doors. Now they lured her foolish, stupid grandson to their struggle and it was this woman's fault. She had great respect and admiration for the king and queen, but this woman, the king's aunt by marriage, was someone she was just aching to kill.

She sat there, enjoying the power she had to make the redhead squirm.

Silence. Even Veruca's smile had all but gone.

The queen mother spoke: "You were foolish to come here. I could have you arrested."

"On what charge?" Veruca tried to speak normally. "Seducing my grandson," the old woman said bluntly. "Luring him to conceive a child with your stupid, useless daughter. On humiliating and disgracing the name of this royal house as well as your own and that of the Netherlands. You have no diplomatic value here or anywhere, now that your king has discarded you." Veruca went paler than her normal shade.

"And causing the humiliation and disgrace in front of the whole world," the queen mother all but growled. "You were incredibly foolish: what on earth will prompt you to think that I will not have you arrested and handed back to England's monarchs, where you will stand trial for prostituting your own daughters?"

Veruca managed to regain some of her nerve. "I am their mother," she finally managed. "I was just looking out for their best interests-"

"By getting them pregnant?" She scoffed. "And publicly humiliating our houses?"

"The queen of England was the one who brought this story out," Veruca hissed.

"The queen of England, is a much more honest person than you are," The queen mother retorted. "And a much better wife and mother. She would never force her daughters to open their legs or get pregnant without marriage or royal permission."

Veruca just sat there, tight-lipped. She longed to throw this old woman back in her face, but she was at a disadvantage here. She played recklessly, because she knew few people would want to have a long-term relationship with her daughters. It was a fatal mistake which had allowed Aglaia to gain advantage over her and strip her of everything she had cherished. Now, she swore, she would not make any reckless mistakes and if she had to grovel to get revenge, she would.

"Please, your majesty," Veruca pretended to beg. "Just… Let me see my daughter. My Maribel." The queen mother scoffed. "Please. I just… I need to see her, see if she is alright. She is pregnant, after all, and as her mother-"

The queen mother shot her a deadly glare.

"I don't know why I allowed you to come to my residence," she said contemptuously. "Now. you leave." She said bluntly and rudely.

Stinging in the face of her humiliation, Veruca knew she couldn't back down now. But she had no idea what to do.

But while she was rushed into the car, the driver turned around.

"A message," He said bluntly. "From Inkhosikati LaBatsuela. Mother of Prince Shabangu. And a summons to meet her."

The tall, graceful, beautiful woman with the rich coffee-coloured skin and sculpted, elegant features was one of the many wives of King Sobhuza.

She eyed Veruca unpleasantly.

"So you're the one who orchestrated your dimwit child to seduce my son." She said bluntly. "Because you needed a royal heir."

Veruca tried to breathe deeply. "Your daughter is not fit to be a mother," the queen stated.

"With all due respect, your majesty," Veruca fake-simpered. "I-"

"Save your simpering excuses, I don't need them," she said brutally. "The only reason I have called you here, is because my son needs to become the next king- and I can't act alone. You were stupid to go to the Ndlovukati. She has no sympathy for you and over a hundred grandchildren through that one son alone. What does my child- or yours- or our shared grandchild matter to her? Or the king?" She scoffed. "Things are different in England. You don't understand how things work here. What it takes to make my child the next king… And yours the mother of the future king and not just one of many wives, but Ndlovukati- Great She-Elephant and queen mother- joint head of state with our grandson."

Veruca's mouth dropped open. So this was what it was all about. Even the mental images as Maribel parading about in an elephant costume did not deter her from the actual fact.

She would have power here. As an absolute ruler. As head of state. Far more- infinitely more- than in England.

"Help me," Queen LaBatsuela stated, enticingly, walking forwards towards her. "Help me become Ndlovukati- Great She-Elephant, Queen Mother. And I will make sure your daughter rules supreme along with her son when the time comes." She whispered, eyes never leaving Veruca's massive ones.

"Bar none," she finished softly but firmly.

As absurd as this woman wanting to be an elephant, if Maribel had to put on an elephant costume in order for her to rule supreme (and have Veruca rule through her) then by all means, she would make sure that happened, even if it was the last thing she did.

And vengeance would be hers.

"Why did you do it?" Robert confronted Aglaia.

"Do what?" Aglaia said softly, sitting in front of her dressing table mirror, taking off her earrings carefully.

Those were the earrings- among the many heartbreakingly beautiful jewels her parents had given to her for her wedding day. It was her something new and she wore it when she married Robert- the love of her life, the only man she ever truly loved.

"Initiate the punishment yourself," Robert exclaimed. "Inform it to her, and sue her, instead of leaving it to me?" He demanded. "Do you realise what you've done? Now Veruca is missing- she might have orchestrated a stupid idea to get her daughters married and her in a position of power- but she's disappeared." He moved closer to her. "And God knows we've clearly underestimated her. And she's out for vengeance."

"I know," Aglaia said quietly. The way she said it made Robert freeze.

"You what?"

"I know," Aglaia repeated turning towards him.

"I knew she was capable of seeking vengeance even though she concocted a very stupid plan to get herself in a position of glory and power. But it was either you or me. Or the rest of our family including, God forbid- our children. And I couldn't risk that." Aglaia sighed and turned back around. Her emerald eyes met Robert's midnight-blue ones through the mirror. "You're my husband. The only man I have ever loved and the father of my children. I love you. Plus, you'll survive without me, you always have."

Robert's eyes flashed when she said that an in a single stride he was right behind her. "Is that what you think?" He quietly demanded.

"That I could live, to survive without you?" The fire in his eyes flared highly and dangerously. Aglaia looked down.

"I know what needs to be done," she said quietly. "I already decided to strip Veruca off her title and style of HRH, as well as her diplomatic passport and all other privileges that goes with her rank and marriage and getting her in legal trouble. I hesitated in scapegoating her, but if we punished her first and quickly, then you and the rest of the family would be spared. The other royals will still suspect your mother, uncle, brother and sister, along with members of your staff, but the damage will be incredibly minimal and your name is absolutely clean. I made sure of it. I knew I had to act quickly and decisively in things like this. I never trusted her. And of course, I was afraid. But I'm more afraid of what she could do, so I had to act. And I also informed the press, using my own words. I had to get the word out before she did- spreading rumours and such. I had to make the message loud and clear, even if it involved the embarrassing details. Of course I humiliated her. Of course she's in serious trouble. Of course she wants revenge. But on me. Not the monarchy, not the family, not your mother, your siblings, the children or you."

"By putting yourself in danger?" Robert shot back. "Do you have any idea… Do you realise-" he shook his head. "If anything were to happen to you," he said quietly, intensely. "I'm not sure what I'll do." He admitted quietly, his voice restraining itself from breaking.

Aglaia breathed deeply. "I did what any queen, wife and mother would do." She replied evenly. "I protected the monarchy, I protected the family, just as I protected you. And our children." She finally looked at him through the mirror. "Can you honestly blame me?" She demanded. "I did what I did for you."

"And that's why I'm so afraid," Robert said through gritted teeth. "Do you think Veruca will even consider that I am to blame- right now, her motives for vengeance is focused on you. Not me." He exhaled heavily. "If anything were to happen to you…" He choked. "I… I don't think I can live with it. I've already lost so much. You were the one person I was determined not to lose, even if it meant giving up the throne. Remember when we were still sneaking off to see each other?" He laughed softly, along with her. "My heart was dead-set on you from the very beginning, and I couldn't move it away, even if I tried. Even if I wanted to. Even though I knew that it was a dangerous thing to do, I still couldn't even think about giving up on you and moving on. I didn't want to lose you, and I wasn't going to let my family's destroyed reputation and the state of our monarchy get in the way."

"I remember," Aglaia sighed. She closed her eyes. They had to overcome a lot of obstacles. Not just her over-protective family, their relations and the scandal-ridden House of Henstridge. The Greek parliament were locked in a fierce debate whether or not the marriage should commence. The Ministerial Council were trying to put their foot down and entered secret negotiations with the British Privy Council to try to persuade Robert to drop her. He refused- they both did. It was either her or no one, Robert had sworn. Same with Aglaia. The Greek media's papers were full of praises about Robert and the late king Simon, but salacious, wicked, rather merciless stories about Liam, Eleanor, Helena, Cyrus and his daughters and the danger emphasised on what would happen if she were to marry into 'the royal family from hell'. There were petitions signed, even some people publicly disagreed with the princess' choice to marry into the family. They swore and speculated that the House of Henstridge would be 'the rope she would hang herself with'.

But people also said it was true love and it was. The emphasis was that the princess was third-in-line for her country's throne and Greek Orthodox. To become queen consort of Britain, wouldn't she have to convert to the Church of England? And thus limit the royal house to two heirs?

Yes, that was that problem.

"I love you," Robert whispered. "You have no idea… What I would do for you."

More than just giving up the throne, or even die- he would kill. In fact, he already did- once. He would do it over a million times if he had to.

Robert wrapped his arms around her, and she leaned back, sighing against his caress. He began kissing her neck. But even though the thought of the oncoming storm was temporarily dispelled that night, Aglaia couldn't forget. She could still feel the grey-blue eyes boring into her, see the flash of his auburn hair and hateful sneer as he looked down at the couple, lying in bed, enveloped in each other's tangled limbs and covered only by the sheets.

No, she had her ghosts. She couldn't forget. And neither could he.

Years earlier…

"I love you," he breathed against her lips, before collapsing on top of her, covered in sweat and panting heavily.

His arms tightened around her, as he still breathed heavily, trying not to crush her with his weight, trying desperately, futile though, to push back the ebbing forces of desire and pleasure that still remained.

This had been her first time. And even though he had done it before, this time… Was indescribable.

Slowly he looked up at her, his eyes clouded over with passion but still realising in concern that she was shaking a little.

"Love?" He asked, his voice still hoarse.

"I'm fine." She whispered. But she wasn't. He frowned, went off her and pulled her to him.

They had their duties. Their responsibilities. The differing conflicts. And he was certain her family would have something to say about this.

But as he lay on his back, Aglaia pressed to him, he knew they had to discuss this.

Aglaia was the first to speak: "My parents," she said softly.

"Do they know yet?" He asked.

"If they do, they wouldn't have let me come," she said quietly. "They would have handed executive orders to me and I wouldn't be able to disobey them."

"Then there's still time." Robert said, looking at her. She looked puzzled. "Robbie-"

He shifted so he could look her straight in the eye. "I want to be with you," those were the most honest and sincere words he had ever spoken, apart from 'I love you.' "I want to be with you for the rest of our lives and beyond. I want to marry you." He whispered.

"You already told me this," she replied.

"But I need to tell your parents," she winced.

"Robert-" she began. He shook his head.

"I have to," he insisted. "Before they find out, take you away from me, and I'm unable to see you again. Or maybe… I'd follow you. I'd fight to get you back. And shit, that would cause some serious diplomatic problems."

She scoffed. "To put it mildly. But do you really think you can just ask my father for my hand in marriage?" She sighed. "Honestly… You'll need the approval of-"

"Your father, the Ministerial Council, the Greek parliament, and the rest of your family, possibly including your Danish relatives." He sighed. "I researched it," he admitted.

Aglaia sighed. "My father would decide whether or not to pass it onto the Ministerial Council. But you'll also need the permission of the Greek Orthodox Church, and here in England, the bishops of the Church of England, and more. I'm third-in-line," she reminded him sadly.

"And you'll remain third-in-line," he promised. "Until your brothers marry and have children." He kissed her. "And you'll remain a Greek Orthodox," he assured her. "The children will have to follow my religion but you'll be able to be queen of England and be a Greek princess."

"And if your people won't like me?" She asked.

He looked incredulous at her. People always fell in love with her, and she was asking that?

Robert sighed. "I know. My family's a circus freak show. Even Liam admits that. But Aglaia… I can't be with anyone else." He admitted. "I've been with girls before and honestly… It never occurred to me, never crossed my mind-" he shook his head in frustration.

"You've become my whole life, my heart and soul. I can't go on pretending, sneaking away in the middle of the night, acting as if nothing has happened in the morning and waiting a whole day to be with you again. Unless you're overseas and then what?" He ground his teeth. "Wait? Wait for news that your family and our governments or the media has found out and that we'll never be able to see each other again? Is that what you really want?" His eyes flashed.

"Robert," she hissed, placing an arm on his soothingly.

He breathed out. "I'm sorry. I'm still going to ask your father. If I have the decency to ask him to his face, then at least we have a chance. And I'm not going to give up."

Aglaia looked at him for a long time. "Then I'll come with you," she insisted. He nodded. His hand tightened around hers. The engagement ring glittered on her finger. He had proposed just moments before.

"Still fighting I see," his voice taunted.

"Shut up," Aglaia muttered darkly. "You have no right to be here." "Your Majesty," Rachel appeared behind her.

Aglaia was folding blankets in the playroom. "Yes?"

"Her Majesty the queen of Greece's secretary is here, to discuss the oncoming wedding." Rachel stated.

Aglaia nodded. "Very well, then."

"Oh, and Princess Penelope has given birth to a healthy baby girl."

Aglaia blinked. "We'll I'll be sure to congratulate them on the good news and give my blessings and best wishes to the baby. Thank you, Rachel. Is that all?"

"Yes, your majesty." Rachel left the room.

Aglaia breathed out. Well, this was promising a great deal of drama.