If love be blind, it best agrees with night.
'I remembered how she was, how beautiful she was, how her beauty drew the masses, her genuineness, her serene presence, her charm- and how magnetic and totally captivating she truly was an it wasn't just her beauty... When she spoke it seemed like you were the only person in the world who mattered to her at that time. She was the biggest catch in Europe, the most eligible and beautiful princess, the most charming and charismatic... And she fell into the hands of a family of jackals who all wished to tear her apart- the girl whom no one could stop raving for, who we all said the most wonderful things about. Of course I fell in love with her. I don't think there was any man, woman or child who could resist her. I thought, one day, I would marry her.' Prince Daniel of Luxembourg on Aglaia, Princess of Greece and Denmark, Queen of the United Kingdom.
'I never understood it. Why she chose him! Why?! That family was going to be the death of her. They were going to kill her- to slaughter her alive! The Henstridges were poison and she willingly fell into his trap- like a fly in a Venus flytrap! They were going to kill her- if they couldn't corrupt her, they were going to kill her! Tear her apart like mad dogs on heat! I always thought he was the best out of a rotten bunch, him and his father, but when they announced their marriage... I was tearing my hair out, more than tempted to jump on a plane and break into the Abbey, screaming to stop her...' Prince Guillame of Monaco.
Aglaia stared at the television. That was Prince Daniel of Luxembourg. He was in his country's armed forces.
She'd had a major crush on him when she was a teenager, and even after. But it wasn't realistic. Daniel? Did he even have feelings for her?
Of course, there was the prince of Sweden, but she couldn't even remember which prince he was... Daniel had been someone she blushed to be around, someone to start her heart pounding rapidly.
So what happened? She wasn't so sure. After two failed relationships, she wasn't eager to fly into a third. She was fearful.
She started from her thoughts when Robert entered the room.
"Hey," he greeted. Aglaia gave him a mechanical smile, desperately wishing she'd changed the channel when she had the time. Sadly, it was too late. He surprised her.
Robert bent down to give her a kiss. "What's this?" He asked, gesturing to the television.
"News from around the world. The EU forces are gathering their power."
"Yeah, it's what my mates in the SAS have been raving about." Robert muttered.
"Prince Daniel of Luxembourg is apparently joining in. Well, Alexios won't be alone."
"I didn't doubt that," Robert muttered. "Sometimes, if I weren't king..." His expression turned wistful. Aglaia touched his hand.
"Are the children in bed?" She asked. Robbie nodded. Aglaia turned the telly off.
No, she still didn't have feelings for the Luxembourgan prince. But if Robert were to find out... Well, based on how he reacted to the presence of Leonidas Dimitriou, an actual ex of hers, she didn't want to think about it.
Yes, she was aware that Robert was not perfect. He wasn't the golden prince, the Once and Future King Arthur reborn the way the public perceived him. The fairytale Prince Charming (though he was a prince once, and he was charming when he wanted to be). But what could she do? She loved him. He loved her. Their marriage thrived, as did their love. They raised a happy, healthy brood of children together. They rebuilt their country and their family's image with one another.
This was true love. And if love was blind... So be it. Maybe it was foolish of her to close her eyes and look the other way, but she had no unpleasant surprises (no truly major ones anyway- or so she insisted). Love could come in many forms. There were women and men, who married Death Row inmates or prisoners serving life sentences. There were those who gave up lives in prosperous cities, forsaking urban luxuries for the harshness of tribal life in the barren desert or oasis, or the rural countryside a world away. Those who only knew one another online. How often did they last?
None. But she had no regrets and no doubts about Robert. She loved him. She truly and deeply loved him. And she knew he felt the same way. He never mistreated her, the only thing was... How far was he willing to go to keep them together? She didn't know. But she didn't think that those were the things a king should be doing, or anyone else for that matter.
She never deluded herself in the belief that Robert could easily stop- and she wasn't arrogant enough to think that she could make him stop and that was all he needed. The Henstridges were on a continuous self-destruct mode and Robert- for all his reputation- was no exception. But she could turn his mind away from that path. Robert wasn't evil, he was in a really dark place, and often... All he needed was love, compassion and understanding. He had always had people leaning on him, looking to him for support, leadership and guidance. He never had any for himself, the pressure was enormous. And when Simon, his own father said he wasn't good enough for the throne... Well, it took a lot for Robert to admit that to her. His pain, his anguish, his insecurities he felt so pressured to hide. He was never, at any point in his life, ever allowed to be himself. The approval anyone ever gave him was not because he was Robert Henstridge, as in just Robert or Robbie, but as His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales or the King of the United Kingdom. Even his parents gave their approval and pride based on that: the image they wanted or needed him to portray, the picture-perfect image of a golden son they wanted. And for a while, Robert believed he could only be that and nothing else. That was why he had been so distraught at the idea that that might've been taken from him- it was all he had. He had nothing else. He wasn't allowed to explore and discover his own personality and limits. He had to be this and that.
But now he had. He was a good person. He was just suffering and in pain. And it was that which showed to her that he needed her above all others.
Aglaia forced a smile. No ghost was going to tear her from her husband and children.
"Almost there!" Someone yelled.
Prince Liam of the United Kingdom- the Explorer Prince as he was now known- was sailing the Amazon River.
The camera crew were huddled together. They were buried under layers of rain ponchos and jackets, and insect repellant. Liam was the only one who was relaxed. He was at ease, breathing calmly and deeply. It was the dead of night and everything was pitch black save for a small torch- but they didn't want to attract wild animals, so he put it low.
"There." He pointed. "A caiman." A reptilian eye blinked, the scaled head and snout hidden under a pile of weeds, before it slunk back further into the murky water.
They'd spotted green anacondas and were filmed with them, he was photographed holding gigantic arapaima (a species of carnivorous fish so massive it was bigger than a kayak, encased in armoured scales), feeding bull sharks and black caimans, barely escaping nasty pirranha and vampire fish (no joke, google it online). And so far, Liam had survived.
He had his own TV show now. And a purpose in life. Exploring, discovering new heights. He'd been the first British prince to climb Mount Everest. He'd dove across the Atlantic, sailed the Horn of Africa where he nearly got captured by pirates filming them in his TV show (Robert was furious, and warned him not to take any unecessary risks ever again). Explored the dense jungles of the congo and Angkor Wat, trekked Machu Pichu, and explored the Sahara Desert with the Bedouin tribes. Basically set about gaining some respect for himself, rather than for his royal titles, indirectly and involuntarily remodelling the image of the Henstridge family. He'd been in Antartica, and he was wondering if he should be an astronaut next if he ran out of places to go and film.
And he still thought about her, Aglaia. It wasn't helped that he still came home for Christmases, Easters and birthdays. But it was a fading memory. An infatuation. A deep and obsessive crush.
Liam had grown up. He still loved her, he still had feelings for her, but it wasn't the same. She was Robert's, he'd accepted that. He didn't fight it the way he used to, he didn't have to fight himself anymore.
He'd grown up. At nights when the TV crew had gone to bed, he took out the picture of Aglaia he still had with him, stroked it and stared at it for a long time, and the ones of his nephews and niece before he went to sleep.
And he was wondering when he and Robert would have a talk.
It was going to be so awkward. They had really damaged their relationship. Could things really be the same?
Was it time for him to head home?
Years passed. The United Kingdom prospered. Everything went on a 'boom'. Well, a baby boom, maybe not so much. But the economy thrived, as did the environment, the free housing and low employment levels, the quality of life in the UK, and the relationship they had with the Commonwealth countries, and other nations.
The marriage and the renewal of the image of the Henstridge family spearheaded by King Robert and Queen Aglaia was a success, it relationship between Dimitri and Willow did not work out, instead, the two of them became genuine, close friends.
Dimitri married a while back, to a lovely young lady from Cythera. And she truly was lovely, and not just physically. Their marriage seemed to be and Eleanor were engaged. Surprise, surprise. Of course, the public whispered excitedly about that. No this year's beginning concluded officially, with the state opening of parliament…
And something else Queen Mother of Swaziland was dead.
Veruca watched silently. She was gone. Soon, her greatest enemy, Aglaia would be too. And she would wear Britain's crown.
In hindsight it wasn't just stupid, but scandalous. Now Penelope and Maribel would never wear Britain's crown. They'd already given up their rights in the succession. But she would wear 's son was now 'officially' grown. He could be king of Swaziland. The queen mother was dead and they would have to choose a successor soon. She would make sure of that. Then finally, she could take her revenge on the Greek harlot.
Big Ben chimed loud enough for London (and the whole world) to hear.
Aglaia had a guilty secret: she loathed carriage rides with such a vehement passion that she would sooner walk thousands of miles and swim across the channel back and forth repeatedly, climb Mount Everest and more than take a single state carriage from Buckingham Palace all the way to the Palace of Westminster.
In Greece, her excuse was that royalty didn't start going in horse-drawn carriages until the eighteenth century. It just wasn't Greek. They weren't French, British, Austrian, German or anything else. The Greeks were not known for their powdered wigs, luminous silk pantaloons or culottes and silk stockings. Nor did they go around in carriages drawn by horses. Her father had seen the point and laughed.
But now that she was queen of Britain…Why? She moaned silently to herself. Why me? Why this?
Oh yes, that's right. Because she fell in love with a man who just so happened to be king of the United Kingdom. Making her his queen consort and the mother of his heirs. Which meant that she was obliged to go around in a gigantic, gilded… Thing with bewigged footmen in bullion, mounted riders in mirror-shine breastplates and caps like broom-brushes and Grenadier guards in their bearskins lining every nine paces or so along the road. And people gawking and cheering at the sight of her like she was the turkey or pudding wheeled out at Christmas for them to eat. Or some exotic animal from Mars.
She did not feel like a queen, much less a princess in this awful, claustrophobic, horrid, ghastly thing. Aglaia knew she likely looked pinched and pale, her expression strained as she tried to force a smile, and the only thing that kept her alive was Robert's other hand (not the one he used for waving) gently pressing down on hers. Aglaia managed a smile and waved to the crowds, unable to speak, praying silently to God that this would be over soon and they would arrive. The weather was fine today, but she could not bring herself to enjoy it whilst in the… she mention it was very claustrophobic? She had never had claustrophobia not until she had her very first carriage ride. But even if it was an open carriage…No, she didn't want to think about it. She was sure she would faint before they even arrived.
This was the State Opening of Parliament, and Robbie had to deliver his speech of the MPs and the nation, broadcast from the House of Lords, most of the peers had already gone to their seats, dressed in their parliamentary robes (they weren't allowed inside if they weren't).
The Yeomen of the Guards, in their brightly decorated scarlet tunics, Elizabethan neck ruffs, black hats and traditional pikes, marched to the royal gallery to provide a guard of honour for the king. The detachment of the household cavalry was already standing at attention in the royal staircase, in their mirror-shine cuirasses, epaulets, helmets and traditional swords resting on their shoulders.
The yeomen were standing but the military representatives and diplomats were sitting, awaiting the royal carriage to arrive at the Sovereign's Entrance, but the Imperial State Crown, which Robert would wear once he had arrived, was being escorted in another carriage before them. The crown was transported with as much ceremony at the regalia room and then at the royal gallery.
Sir Mark Andrews, who was in charge of royal ceremonies, carefully carried the crown on a purple cushion glittering in its diamonds and sapphires, escorted by guardsmen, ceremoniously carried it for cameras to watch followed by the great sword of state (recovered from Cyrus who threatened to use it on Helena after the Violet fiasco) and finally, the king and queen knew by memorising every detail of the ceremony (yes, she was required to do that), that the heralds responsible for heralding at every part of the United Kingdom, lining the royal staircase waiting to greet them.
The bells were tolling, she was feeling faint, Robert's own presence the only thing that kept her from passing out or dying of heart failure and that was more likely than she could have imagined. The children would be arriving soon. The national anthem was playing."We'll be there soon," Robert said as people outside felt like an eternity. Black spots danced at the edge of her vision and she felt very, very faint. Like all the oxygen had drained.
I will not faint. I will not faint on this important occasion, she hissed to herself. It was just... State carriages and processions liked to take their time! Well, Aglaia couldn't promise that there wouldn't be a show, put on courtesy of the queen so long as this keeps up! Just not the one they wanted.
The normally patient queen silently fumed. Yes, the Lord (or Lady) Speaker was arriving at that moment, followed by the Lord Chancellor and someone carrying the great! Aglaia nearly collapsed and wept in relief when the carriage rolled in.
Thankfully, no one apart from Robbie knew about her state.
The royal anthem, God Save the King was sounding on the trumpets. Drums were booming, and this was what the British excelled at: pomp and ceremony. You could get away with it in any other monarchy in the world, but not this one! A trumpet fanfare, someone shouting for the royal salute and the queen silently cursing her stars about her , she really hated- no, loathed, carriage rides.
She was quite sure her father never had to do this, nor did her uncle Valdemar, king of Denmark.
"Why me?" She moaned under her breath. Mercifully, the door was opened, Robert got out and helped Aglaia who struggled to contain her relief. The sudden surge of oxygen flowed like a life-saver, which it was, through her lungs. Everyone bowed or saluted.
The Lord Great Chamberlain and the Earl Marshall greeted them, but one of them hid a look of concern when he saw the queen's expression. Get a hold of yourself! Smile! Aglaia ordered herself. That was easy once she had gotten out.
Now all she had to do was go up the staircase under heavy escort and into the robing room where she could collapse for a few minutes and that she did.
Aglaia gave a moan and sagged against a chair. The selected ladies-in-waiting rushed forwards before she could fall, but Robert was already there.
One of them took a fan and waved it on the queen's face. Another one produced a water bottle which refreshed her. Robert steadied her, lifting her up, ever so slightly."Are you sure you can manage it?" He asked, anxiously.
"I'll be fine." She answered. "I am now that I've recovered from… Riding the thing." She gave a revolted winced.
"What thing?" One of the ladies, Lady Mary Crawford, asked.
"The state carriage," Aglaia muttered. "I absolutely loathe carriage rides. I have a phobia."
Well, their faces were priceless. Imagine a queen saying that. Aglaia gave Robert a look. "The things I do for love." He smiled sheepishly. Beck hurried back in full military ceremonial dress bending over concernedly."Do you think," he began hesitantly. Aglaia shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she said a little more harshly than she meant to. "I have to. Even if it kills me."
"Unbelievable." Her husband muttered. Next thing the outside world was aware of, were the sounds of fanfare, and the king and queen in ermine-trimmed state robes, a military uniform and a formal gown respectively, making their way out.
The king now wearing the crown through the royal gallery to the Prince's Chamber and into the House of Lords. Right behind them were the princes and princess who had arrived before their after she had arrived in Britain as its queen, it had never gotten any easier.
This was William, Andrew and Selena's first attendance at the ceremonial opening of parliament, to mark their coming of age that year. Entering through to the House of Lords they made their way to the dual thrones of gold gilt, Aglaia occupying the smaller throne, the pageboys arranging the ermine-trimmed velvet robes neatly. Robert had taken his seat. "My lords, pray be seated." He said all sat.
Robert gave the signal, and Black Rod- or the Gentleman of the Black Rod, the king's representative, carrying the black rod- went down to the House of Commons.
Aglaia stole a secret glance at her children. Tall and straight, they were calm and at ease. But this year, the vultures would descend. This year, they became adults. This year, the paparazzi would have no inhibitions, their every action would be scrutinised by the public, and their hordes of screaming fans, sycophants, gold-diggers and others would do everything they can to be close to them, to take advantage of their status- everything.
Black Rod strode down to the House of Commons, only for him to hear: "Close the doors!" And the door to be slammed shut in his face. That was tradition. Another reason why no royal will ever set foot in the House of Commons where MPs were elected from the public. A symbol of the people's rights and the government's independence from the monarchy.
After knocking, receiving permission to enter, Black Rod announced. "Mr. Speaker. The king commands this honourable house-" bow to the left, bow to the right. "To attend His Majesty immediately in the House of Peers."
He stood aside and someone took the mace. But someone said: "Is the old geezer still in the palace? Thought you would've locked him up in the Tower of London by now."
Laughter rang through the House of Commons. That was MP Mikey Davids. The most outspoken MP out there. He was referring, of course, to the deposed king Cyrus.
And while seeing the necessity and having respect for the royal couple (as individuals, not as symbols) he didn't see it necessary to spend huge sums of money on other royals. Especially with the need for benefits in some was a symbol of the old days. He was mistrusted, and while more and more people were approving of Liam and Eleanor nowadays, they still had a long way to go. Mikey Davids knew that neither of them felt no remorse nor the slightest bit of hesitation when they went on lavish shopping trips or holidays in Monaco or across the pond, partied without underwear, photographed with strippers or anything. Sometimes, he bordered on anti-monarchism, but not with this king and queen. At least the twins themselves were shaping up; Cyrus was a waste of the taxpayers' money. They should've been spending sums on housing benefits not imported liquor.
As soon as the MPs had arrived and were seated, Robert began his speech. Aglaia had run it through. Precise, on-the-point, no droning on and on. No extensive, fancy formalities.
The state of the kingdom was impressive. Robert encouraged its growth, and boosted morale of MPs, peers, military personnel and civilians. And yes, his wife knew exactly what he should say. She'd monitored all this. They had written this jointly.
"This year, we are presented with the image of a nation, which I am proud to say, stands proudly amidst all the nations of this world. As a nation, we have grown, we have stumbled, but never have we fallen and now we stand tall." And the speech went on describing the state of the nation and the problems presented before them.
"Years have passed since my late father died," he said, in the climax of the speech. "And I came back to find a nation whose trust had been severely shaken in its leaders, and not without reason. I swore it would never happen again, that if I could, king or not, I would make this right. All these years I have striven for it. And now I ask you: have I done the task that you presented to me?"
A universal echo of 'Yes!' Was heard all around. Cheers and cries of approval. People were actually standing and clapping for the king and queen, inside and outside of the House of Peers. Robert waited for the applause to subside.
"And this year, we mark the beginning of something new yet again." A smile. "This year, for us, a new generation is ready to take on the world. What country will we leave behind when our time is done? Will we leave a nation that is firm and proud in the fact that it is no less great, and possibly greater than what our ancestors carved for us in the past, on armour and horseback? Our will we falter?"
Cheers of approval. William, Prince of Wales, glanced at his father. The Duke of Kent, his younger brother and the Princess Royal, their sister, watched him carefully as they did the others in the House of Peers.
At last, Robert thought. I've done it. I've achieved this. He hadn't known he'd been searching and reaching towards this goal, his kingdom's prosperity and approval, his entire life (or maybe he had, but he didn't realise how much it resonated deeply within him). But now, at last, he'd found it. He glanced at his wife who stood by his side, smiling graciously. And now he knew. He really understood he would never have done this without her.
Among the people clapping were their triplets. Next to Will or William Prince of Wales, as he was known, stood Andrew. Andrew's green eyes, jade-green like his uncle Dimitri, turned towards his younger sister. Selena's own emerald eyes were serene, and she smiled benignly as she clapped politely. The eldest of the triplets' eyes were fixed upon his father and mother as they accepted the people's approval and warmth.
The triplets walked the public corridors of Windsor Castle. They were dressed formally. Andrew had completed his military training and so did Andrew, so they both wore full military ceremonial dress, in black with medallions, honours and orders. Selena wore a formal evening gown in silver with the royal family order which featured a miniature portrait of her father, mounted on a frame of diamonds with a red enamel crown on a ribbon of yellow watered silk.
"He's done well," Andrew remarked, as he cast his eyes around the castle corridors. "No one had ever received a king so well in this country."
"They received grandfather, but true enough, you do have a point," his sister spoke.
"Yes, but only time will tell how long that will last." Will remarked sagely. He looked at the passing footmen and said: "I wonder how he did it?"
"What?" Andrew looked at him. "Capture people's attention to such a high degree, and their approval. It's like he captivates them."
"Mother captivates them." Selena smirked. Out of all the three siblings, she was the one who looked most like their mother. A beauty with black hair in a lush cascade of loose curls pinned to one side and flowing down her back, her emerald eyes sparkling and dancing mischievously. "Father has had to earn their approval the hard way."
Andrew laughed. "He's quite good-looking you know. Our parents haven't aged much."
"Not even Granny's aged much," Selena said, suddenly bored. "Or Giagiá and Pappoús. So, we're coming of age this year. And you two are- what? Off to military training and what do I get to do? Stay home?" She sounded bitter.
"You know this isn't the dark ages," Andrew pointed out. "There is no law that bans women from enrolling in the military nowadays." Will stated.
"Tell that to Dad." She muttered."He's just thinking about the succession." Andrew shrugged. "Two heirs in the military? You do realise that starting from this year we'll no longer be allowed to travel together, just in case accidents happen?"
Selena laughed and said. "Accidents and Veruca Popperwell.""And Cyrus." Andrew whispered. They snickered amidst themselves.
"But then again," he amended. "You'll always be Daddy's little girl."
Selena halted her laughter almost immediately. "Thanks a bunch, brother-dear," she said winked. "You're welcome, Little Sister." He chuckled as Selena- covertly- smacked him on the 's eyes were far away. Will did not smile.
Selena gave him a concerned glance. "What's up with you?"
"Nothing," he immediately replied. "Leave the lying to the politicians, why don't you, brother," Andrew whispered. "Something's up. Tell me."
"Later," Will pacified as they entered the banquet hall.
"The President is coming tomorrow." Selena stated. "The grenadiers are rehearsing tonight."
That was true. Will almost pitied them, but he knew it would chafe on them to be pitied. Tonight would be wet and cold, the forecast said. The triplets entered the dining room, and the king looked up and nodded at his children's arrival.
"Such a monumental day," Aglaia murmured from beside him. Robert's lips twitched into a smile.
"A monumental year," he corrected, smiling at her. "We need to talk afterwards," she told him. "About the triplets."
Robert looked and saw her seriousness. He nodded, wondering what this was all about. The guests were being escorted, to their seats. Will helped Selena into was not a state banquet. And King Cyrus, as technically he was, being crowned, sworn in, anointed and what-not, was not present. As far as Will was concerned, there could only be one true king, and that was not his that was not that king. A true king. He looked at his dad who was deep in discussion with some minister. King Robert always so regal and impressive in his Irish Guards Mounted Officers uniform, with or without his forage cap (currently without). The queen, their mother was in an evening gown. Will caught her eye and smiled. He received a smile in return, but soon she began discussing something with someone beside her. Some official.
Aglaia had not aged a day since she married, or so it appeared. Her hair was still black as polished jet, deeper even, and her lovely face still unlined, skin flawless and beautiful, figure still to die for. But then again, their aunts and uncles didn't age much either. The really impressive one were their grandmothers, Queen Anastasia, still surrealistically gorgeous (like their mother) and Queen Helena, who appeared fabulous despite her age. The Queen Mother was speaking to three politicians at once, but Aglaia commanded everyone's attention. Every eye was magnetically pulled towards her, even the magnetically charismatic Robert shone like the sun only with her by his side.
Things were going to change this year, Will realised. The triplets were coming of age. The media scrutiny would be more intense, and expectations were piling. People wondered what the youngest Henstridge generation would bring to their table. Would he bring prosperity just as his father and grandfather did?
Or something else entirely?
Will found his father on the balcony, gazing up at the stars.
"Sometimes I wonder what your grandfather would say if he saw us down here," he murmured, still looking up. "I wonder if he'd approve."
"He'd be proud." Will walked up next to him. Robert gave a sad smile. "Don't be so sure. He wanted to abolish the monarchy."
"The referendum talks were only after you 'died'." Will pointed out. Robert didn't reply. "Uncle Liam's coming back in two days," he didn't say anything. "Yes." He finally said.
"I've always wondered… What happened between you both?" He began. "And to this whole family? Why-" he didn't know how to say it. What happened to make the House of Henstridge go against one another?
"William," Robert used his whole name. He turned towards his firstborn. "Nothing's as simple as it appears to be."
"You and Mum have taught me our entire lives the importance of strong family ties, particularly if you live such a public life," Will pointed out.
"And I don't take that back. That's why I want you, and Andrew and Selena to have a happy, loving family and a bond between the three of you."
Will was silent. "But what happened? Why does Granny and Great-Uncle Cyrus-" Robert grimaced.
"Don't," he said. "Your grandmother and Cyrus were allies once. You could even call it friendship. They shared many things in common."
"Including Alexander McQueen," Will muttered. Robert chuckled softly. "Yeah, including that."
"If I'm going to be king someday, I need to learn how to avoid… That," Will insisted. Robert looked at the distance again. "It's complicated," he admitted quietly.
"Then tell me, why was Uncle Cyrus crowned king?" Robert paused. "If you really had died, why didn't Uncle Liam-" he trailed off.
"Your grandmother," Robert said quietly. "Is a good woman. Even if it isn't always so obvious, she does love her family. When she was young… Her mother wanted her to be Prince Simon's wife."
Will did not take his eyes off his father.
"She was one of the leading beauties of her day, but Prince Simon had his eyes on another girl. Her name was Dominique, Dominique Stewart. She came from a long line of heroes and aristocracy, and they knew each other even when they were young. He called her Domino, because when he was small, he couldn't pronounce her name properly. And then she went on a horseback ride, and the horse came back… Without its rider."
Will was very still.
"Her body was found not long after. She had broken her neck, which was unusual since she was a good rider. But with Prince Simon as heir to the throne without any children, he had to marry someone. He ended up choosing Helena, but I think she knew… They did love each other. They had three children and raised them, tackled the challenges of being king and queen together, you'd have to be utterly cold and heartless not to feel some level of affection after all that. But Helena was never the great love of his life, unlike your mother was for me." He paused.
"Helena never wanted to be queen, not at first. She loved someone else." Robert hesitated, but figured his son ought to know the truth. "His name was Alistair Lacey. He was a captain, and based on what I know, after I was out of my infanthood, during which she suffered Post-Partum depression, it became painfully obvious that while their marriage wasn't that unhappy, it wasn't as fulfilling as she'd hoped it would be. She turned to him for comfort." Robert paused again.
"Captain Lacey… Well, she began seeing him around the time your aunt and uncle were conceived." Will's eyes widened. "I know what you're thinking. It wasn't as simple as you think. That," he said turning. "Is why you must always be careful who you marry and fall in love with Will. Even if you're tempted, even if you burn for her…" Robert paused. In truth, he would've married Aglaia either way. "Don't marry unless you're certain you know her and you're both happy. Promise me, Will.""I promise," Will said quietly.
"And then, after Liam and Eleanor were born, they carried on in secret. And then…" He stopped. How could he say it? How could he say the reason why his father was murdered?"Cyrus burst in when Liam was about to be sworn in."
"But is Uncle Liam and Aunt Eleanor-"
"Will, I promise you, your aunt and uncle are your grandfather's children, it's been proven," Robert said flatly."They could've proved it sooner," Will muttered. "Then tell me, Dad, what happened between you and Uncle Liam?"
"What makes you think anything happened between us?"
"Well… When he does come home, you rarely talk. You barely look at one another. You don't go anywhere near his vicinity. Yet by the way Auntie Len tells it, the two of you were close when you were kids. Gran said the same thing. Everyone says that."
Robert really had nothing to he could formulate a response, however, the door opened.
"Yes?" Aglaia entered. "Robbie, Will," she said in surprise. "Mum," Will said."I was wondering where either of you might've been." She smiled in smiled warmly, all tension forgotten.
"Everything's fine." He looked at Will. "We were just having a talk."
"Right. Well, I was hoping to have a talk with you," Aglaia said. "Will, darling would it be alright if…"
"Right, of course, Mum." He kissed his mother's cheek on the way smiled at her son before turning to her husband.
"What's happened?" She asked, forced a mechanical smile. "Nothing, love." He kissed her."Are you sure?" She asked sceptically. Then she sighed. "President Shangaan will be arriving tomorrow." The South African president. "And your brother." Robert was regarded him. "You're not going to speak to me about Liam, are you?" She asked. The last time they spoke about him there was a confrontation which turned into a fight- albeit a very short one. Ever since then the brothers… Well, nothing had been the here I thought they were close, she thought.
Robbie and Laia had a policy: don't ask if they won't tell. Aglaia wasn't stupid. After years as Robert's queen consort, his wife and the mother of his children, she'd learned more than she would've liked about the House of Henstridge. One of which was that Robert and Liam, despite their obvious love and affection for one another, had had a complicated relationship. Liam had stepped into his brother's shoes when the latter had disappeared and was falsely presumed dead due to Ted Pryce. And despite struggling at first, he had grown into the role, and hashtag: King Liam (now a distant, long-forgotten memory), a term coined by Willow, her children's godmother and her brother's ex-girlfriend, became popular. Well, it was him against Cyrus, take your pick. He still sported the mohawk which looked absurd on him (he didn't shave it very well), in a way that it never did to David Beckham. And despite downing tremendous amounts of alcohol, Cyrus was still breathing, which she sensed people were becoming frustrated about (her mother and brothers certainly were, it was hard to tell with her father). When she thought about it, Aglaia felt sorry for Cyrus, knowing that everyone wanted him gone and preferably, soon. Her husband was king. Their eldest son, his successor someday. That much could not be disputed. There was no way for Cyrus to dispute their paternity or the legality of their parents' marriage, and even if this was so, there was still Liam and Len.
Anyway, back to Liam: Aglaia knew that Liam had grown from an unrestrained, party-boy prince to… Well, a man. He wasn't perfect but he was growing into the role and had people's love and respect on him when he was finally proven to be Simon's son- until Robert appeared out of nowhere, and pushed him back into his petty as that might seem, that had to be difficult. And she knew Liam had fallen for Kathryn Davies, Robert's girlfriend prior to his 'death'. Kathryn had chosen Robert- wounding Liam, only for Robert to find out that she and his brother were shagging and that Liam had wanted to make a move on her this whole yes, that was salt poured into the wound. But there was something more, she knew. Besides, Liam had truly grown into a man and that was years ago.
She just knew Robert just wouldn't tell her. Len and Helena didn't know either, any more than Jasper maybe Jasper did. Realising that, Aglaia instead chose to say something else.
"I need to talk to you," she said. "About Selena." He looked puzzled.
"What about her?"Aglaia shook her head. "Robbie, Selena told me that you've denied her request to be trained as a cadet."
"Of course." Robert said, more forcefully than he meant to. "She's much too young." He then cursed his stupidity in saying that. Slip of the tongue.
"Only by three minutes," Aglaia scoffed. "I should know. I was there. Why are you insisting on cooping her up in here, when her brothers are undergoing their military training? They've passed their Cambridge level examinations. They've shone. They're academically brilliant, athletic, and well, they're eager to prove themselves and go out into the world, instead of being shadowed."
Robert winced."They have a great deal to do in their lives, and at this point,"
Aglaia had stepped even closer. "Their horizons should be expanding. Broadening."
Robert sighed, exasperated. "She's third in line. She already has two older brothers in the military, it's too risky to put all the heirs in the front- and I know that's exactly what they want." To fight. Not simple ceremonial duties.
"You're not doing this because she's the girl, are you?" His wife asked.
"Of course not," Robert denied immediately. She arched a delicate brow. "Well, that's part of it. You know they won't be given any special privileges simply because they're my children. Every year, No, Laia, listen, every year, women in the armed forces file complaints and charges against the men in their barracks-"
"Oh, for goodness' sake," Aglaia interrupted him. "She's the king's daughter. Do you think, even if she doesn't have any special privileges, that they would risk touching her? And if word gets out- which it will-"
"You don't know that," Robert said darkly. "Do you think she wants public humiliation?" That admittedly, was true. "And she's not staying in the same barracks as the men. They'll be a bad influence." He walked to the fireplace, eyes staring darkly at the flames.
"Like they may not be a bad influence on Will and Andrew?" She asked. "Will and Andrew have learnt discipline," Robert insisted. "And Selena won't?" She sighed. "She can't be your little girl forever."
Robert's eyes narrowed. "But she's third in line. And I'm not leaving the throne to bloody Cyrus and Liam in case anything happens." Which knowing their luck, it will, sooner or later. The years in which the triplets had grown up and matured had been far too quiet. Aglaia froze, and was about to open her mouth to ask what he meant about Liam, but Robbie continued: "All these years, Veruca Popperwell is still in asylum in Swaziland. The king's new wife, his idiot son's mother, has somehow persuaded the king to allow her to stay- indefinitely. It's bad enough I have to risk my sons- what if something were to happen to them? It nearly did to me- I was on an uninhabited island for a year. My father was murdered. I am not risking any of you more than I have to!" At this exclamation, he strode towards his wife and kissed her full on the mouth.
"Don't make me lose you," he whispered hoarsely, staring into her eyes. "Any of you."
Aglaia embraced and kissed him. But afterwards, she made up her mind to ask Jasper about all of this.
Will walked through the corridors, trying to find his siblings.
It was getting dark, he thought. And rather late, but he knew his siblings were up.
He loved it here. Windsor Castle, better than Blenheim Palace, which was rich with tension, intrigue and Cyrus. You could smell the stench of his cologne, brandy and cognac a mile away. Or gin and tonic.
As Will walked the corridors, he spotted an open door, slightly ajar. He frowned. There was no one nearby.
He pushed the door open. Inside was no lighting, but bathed in moonlight, it illuminated the room in silvery-white. There, standing in front of a portrait was…
King Simon. Father to King Robert, Liam and Eleanor Henstridge. Will had seen that face in photographs, news reels, home videos and paintings. He had never met the man, but he knew. He was certain.
Just as he remembered… Something.
"The board is set," King Simon said softly in that strong, yet calm, sad voice. "The pieces will move into place. Guided by the hands of the players… As difficult as this may seem, the curtains will draw revealing you to become the greatest king Britain has ever seen."
Will's eyes widened. Just as he began to think this was a hallucination, the mirage, illusion or indeed, ghost, of his long-dead grandfather whom he had never met, had disappeared. Vanished into thin air.
So the triplets have grown up. I know it was quick, but it was necessary, because they are going to be main characters soon. The 'ghost' of Aglaia's ex-boyfriend is still there, just biding his time. And unfortunately, Veruca's waited long enough.