I edited chapter 5 a bit. Helena had nothing to do with the "framing" of Surrey. Wasn't impressed by episode 8, though. Hopefully next week'll be better. Fangirling Spencer and Sebastian massively.

Thank you for reading and reviewing. Always inspiring. Looking forward to the next chapter :)

ACT I

Ahasuerus

Part VI.

Genesis 27:27

It had been an intense week and Robert was happy when the finale of the Royal Ascot eventually arrived. He was sick to death of talking to reporters, smiling for the cameras and winking mysteriously whenever they asked him whether he had already snatched a wife. All he needed to do was make it through the last day and then he could return to his platitudinous life.

Foreign politics, domestic affairs, smoke-filled rooms and the PM. Such fun.

The last day turned out to be an enjoyable one, when Ashok decided to act upon long-lingering feelings and kissed Gemma after a win – and Gemma hadn't slapped him for it, much to Robert's surprise. A visit to the Ascot Stables ended in Jasper getting kicked by a horse - not one of Robert's unfortunately - despite him standing to the side, because he was not afraid of horses and Eleanor got into a shouting match with Cumbria over her not boyfriend's marital status. Robert, watching the argument thoroughly entertained, had been inclined to let it escalate – he knew his sister had a mean right hook, no matter how skinny she was – but James and Baker had interfered, separating the two hotheads and escorting Cumbria off the premises.

Robert had told them to get rid of his sister as well, but for some reason they had disobeyed his orders. He'd have to discipline them later, when back at the Palace.

What remained of his stay at the Ascot had been quite lovely. He'd spent it with Kent by his side and they had spoken some more about horses and the country and everything. She was nice, intelligent, beautiful, and he had wanted to kiss her – once, twice, four, five, at least ten times – but there had constantly been too many eyes and he hadn't been too sure she would appreciate his forwardness.

Not after the Surrey-debacle.

And perhaps Poppy's voice in his head, incessantly blabbering on about his roguish ways, - scalawag, miscreant and inveigler -, had something to do with it as well. So he had restrained himself, had been a perfect gentleman. If he surreptitiously compared the feel of her hand to Poppy's, he chose not to acknowledge it, and if Kent came out lacking, he pretended not to care.

Yes, Robert was glad it was all over and done with. There was no ring on his finger nor a fiancee on his arm. Mission accomplished. And now he and Poppy could go back to coexisting, living their own lives and not minding the other. Tolerating Poppy - barely - as he had done for the past two, three years. But he already knew that was not going to happen, because she had always been shoving her pretty, fiendish face up into his business, no matter how many times he had told her to fuck off and had yelled at Jasper to keep his dog on a leash.

He smirked when he remembered the most memorable part of the day, when Poppy had taken a tumble down the stairs, causing her to walk around the Ascot for the remainder of the day with a scowl that almost rivalled Jasper's and a bump the size of Australia and New Zealand combined on her forehead.

And I may have pushed her down the steps entirely truly completely by accident – doubtlessly.

He didn't even feel slightly guilty.

She deserved it.

He still hadn't gotten rid of the feel of her hand in his, and he had checked - inspected, scrutinized - his hand because at some point during the night he had been convinced she had burned her fingerprints into the palm of his hand, because he could still feel it. It only proved to him that she was as much a malignant spirit as he suspected her to be and perhaps an exorcism was in order.

'Still as godawfully single as a few months ago now, aren't you?' Eleanor, during dinner that night, grinned at him insolently and he felt like accidentally pushing her down the stairs. Her mood had been repulsively happy ever since they had returned from the Ascot. He reckoned it was a mix of Cumbria fucking off and Jasper being off duty again. They had disappeared into their bedroom for at least two hours, before joining the rest of the family in the grand hall. For once Helena had made an exception and allowed them to eat dinner in front of the telly. Spencer had joined them and if anyone noticed the tension between the Chamberlain and the Queen Mother, they did a good job of hiding it.

Robert prayed to all that was merciful and good that it was not sexual tension. There was already a conflict of interest going on with his bodyguard shagging his sister. He sincerely hoped his mother wasn't cock snuggling the Chamberlain, because that'd be a transgression he could not overlook. And he liked Spencer. Really liked the man. He'd be staying then. Perhaps it was about time his mother moved out. The Palace was his home after all, not hers.

His Royal residence in London, Clarence House, was currently unoccupied, and if Helena really wanted a palace, he could always kick Kate and her bloody Duchess Slant out of Kensington Palace, relocate her and her family to Saint James's, so his mother could move into Kensington. Harry could stay, though. Robert had always liked the redhead.

'I'd rather be single than stuck with a commoner,' Robert replied as he sipped thoughtfully from his glass of champagne. 'Siring little bastards isn't in my future plans, dear sister.'

She growled at him, but Jasper had a tiny grin on his face and Robert winked at him, held up his ring finger at an angle Eleanor couldn't see. Jasper gave him the finger. 'Neither is it in my mine.'

Robert rolled his eyes as Eleanor ignored his bodyguard's comment.

Bloody halfwit.

A serious talk with Jasper was overdue. It was about time that ring in the man's pocket found its way to Eleanor's finger. They needed to strategize this. Knowing Eleanor, she wouldn't just say yes. She'd make the man work for it. And knowing Jasper and his American stubbornness there was about as much chance of that ending up in a marriage, as it was in a break-up. There had been a time when Robert had been opposed to everything Jasper, but right now he wanted nothing more than for Jasper to pop the question and just whisk his sister away to whatever castle or palace she wanted to live in. As long as it wasn't his. They could take Poppy with them.

He looked at the anathematized Mephistopheles sitting next to him. He doubted he deserved this. This normalcy. Lazing about with family. Friends. And her.

His succubus.

He stretched, inconspicuously and aggrandized at the same time, and spread his arm over the back of the sofa. The few stray hairs resting in Poppy's neck tickled his bare forearm and he found himself wishing she'd just unpin it. Let her dark curls tumble down. He brushed his thumb over her nape and she shivered. It was barely noticeable, but he saw. Smirked.

And perhaps I'm your incubus.

She leaned closer to him, barely, and he let his arm rest gently on her shoulders.

He didn't care much. Not now. He wasn't King. Not this moment. Not looking for a wife. Just Robert.

And her fingers are still burning in my hand.

When she laughed at something Ivan said and threw her head back, he cupped the back of her head and pulled her near. She obliged – as if she had a choice – and moved towards him, never looking, simply drawing near and settling against his side.

It was so easy and natural and bloody relaxing, the feel of her form against his. He started rubbing circles on her shoulder and he wondered if she could feel his heart racing.

Perhaps hers was too.

She inclined her head towards him, whispered. 'You smell like a farm, Robert.'

If she even had a heart, that inhuman philistine.

'You're the pig, not me,' he replied under his breath. She grinned, brushing her nose against his sleeve. 'Your stench tells me otherwise.'

And she was right, because after their visit to the stables at the Ascot they all had the distinct scent of horse and hay and something he'd rather not define clinging to them, but they were all in too good a mood to care much. He flicked her against the ear with his free hand, lingering near her jaw when she turned to face him fully.

'You okay?'

He nodded.

She clicked her tongue against her teeth and shook her head. 'I'm serious, Robert. Are you okay?'

And she was referring to his speech at the end of the Royal Ascot. Thanking everyone for being there. Thanking the public for having faith in him. Expressing regret over Surrey – and he had yet to apologize to the poor girl. And telling his country, his people, that despite his and their best efforts, even though he had spent the previous days with incredibly admirable young Ladies, a spark had not been ignited and no Royal Engagement had sprung forth. Regrettably. But he would remain vigilant.

Remain vigilant in my efforts of finding a wife the Biblical way. He had almost choked on the words. But the country ate them up and at least they would stay off his back for a while now. That was all he wanted.

'I'm good,' he reassured her. He sighed and tightened his hold on her. 'And you truly are a demon of your word. I made it through this thing without being forced to marry anyone. We made it through. So thank you.'

She eyed him, pleasantly surprised, and she rubbed her cheek against his arm.

'You're welcome.'

His eyes narrowed at her, though, when he remembered and he growled. 'I take that back. You were the one who got me into this mess in the first place. Hell'll freeze over before I thank you.'

She chuckled, a throaty sound that had him pull her closer yet again. She steadied herself with a hand on his thigh and he told himself he only stopped breathing because of something, nothing, anything. It certainly wasn't because her hand was so achingly close to his…

'So, don't mind me asking, but since when are you two friends?' Gemma was eyeing the two of them from where she sat on the floor, wrapped in a fleece blanket and Ashok.

And that one was still so weird to Robert, because really, Gemma and Ashok?

He objected, though. We're definitely not friends. I'll be damned.

Poppy laughed. 'I feel sorry for him.' She shrugged. 'He's a Henstridge, so of course he's easy on the eyes, but he has such a detestable attitude that I fear he'll never find a wife.'

Stinking traitor.

He retracted his arm and she chuckled, latching onto him. Pulling his arm back over her shoulder, snuggling up against him.

'I don't need your pity,' he grunted, but he settled back into the sofa, accustomed his body to hers pressing against him.

'Group hug,' Liam cheered. And suddenly they were all on him – except Jasper, because Jasper was too bleeding cool for group hugs – and in the throng of bodies he lost hers and – fuck.

By the time Ashok had gotten off of his lap and Beck was done apologizing to Eleanor for accidentally touching a boob – the accidental part being under serious scrutiny here – Poppy had moved to the other sofa and was now cuddling up to the Avery brothers – who had invited them? – and stealing bits of chicken from Jasper's plate – who wasn't doing anything to save her from those lecherous juveniles.

The doors to the room banged open before he had the change to say something about it.

'Ah, Robert, Poppy.' His mother stood in the doorway. 'I'd like to speak to you in my office. Now.'

Eleanor smirked and Liam mimicked slitting his own throat.

'You're in trouble,' he mouthed. Willow cuffed him against the ear. 'Good luck,' she murmured, as Robert made to get up. He smiled at her, not too worried. He glared at Holden and Ivan Avery when he passed them, just for good measure, and pulled up Poppy in his stride. She rolled her eyes at his back. He couldn't see her, but he was certain she was. He'd be disappointed if she hadn't.

His mother was waiting for them in her study.

'Sit down.' She was leaning against her desk, gesturing to the two seats standing in front of it. They sat down compliantly.

Helena sighed. 'I thought the purpose of this year's Royal Ascot was to find you a wife, Robert.'

He nodded. 'Unfortunately, we failed.'

'Yes.' His mother scowled at the both of them. 'And I am extremely disappointed in you both.'

With her hands on her hips and her right foot tapping a steady rhythm on the hardwood floors, his mother made an intimidating sight. At least, to him.

Poppy wasn't impressed. 'Disappointed in me? What did I do?' She threw up her hands, got up in a huff, and Robert had to commend her incredible acting skills.

'I provided the ignoramus' – what in the bloody hell did she just call him? – 'with forty-eight gorgeous candidates and he was the one who failed to wife them. Not me.'

Robert smirked and when Poppy had her back to Helena, she stuck out her tongue at him and winked. The bump on her forehead made her look like a complete idiot. He smiled even wider.

'He had a good connection with Kent,' Poppy continued, 'but I think she was a bit too proper for his tastes. They did agree to meet up this Summer. She wanted to show him her county on horseback, so I wouldn't write her off completely. It's a shame his questionable looks couldn't win her over completely, but at the least there's a friendship there, so who knows what might happen.'

'Questionable looks?' Robert arched an eyebrow at her and she grinned, blew him a kiss, but flipped him off at the same time, all with her back to his mother.

Incorrigible devil child.

'Lovely,' Helena said dryly, 'but I'd like to hear more from my son's mouth. What do you have to say for yourself, Robert?'

He shrugged. 'They were all lovely, but it simply didn't work out. I think I need some time to figure out what it is I find important in a Queen and a wife. Adjust our strategy. Give it some time and we'll continue our search.'

Give it a lot of time.

His mother stared him down, her eyes narrowed. When he didn't respond, she fixed her efforts on Poppy, who came to stand next to him. She rested a hand on the armrest and he leaned towards her, his shoulder bumping into her arm as he placed his elbow next to her hand. Her fingers twitched, curled into the inside of his elbow, and he placed his other hand in front of his arm so his mother wouldn't see.

He wondered how they had gotten so accustomed to hiding their occasional, sporadic, not habitual touches from prying eyes, but perhaps it wasn't so weird since it was almost common, frequent, constantly that parts of their bodies were touching.

Not always hidden.

'I liked Surrey.' He felt Poppy tense as his mother spoke. 'What happened there?'

And the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end when Poppy answered. 'A shame she was only after his crown.'

His mother laughed, a sharp and entirely humourless sound. It was the laugh she had reserved almost exclusively for Eleanor and her imbecilic antics and fuck.

'Oh, dear Calliope,' Helena smiled, all teeth and no joy. 'Rachel is loyal to me. You think I don't know you fabricated those texts and pictures out of thin air? I am the Queen Mother. I know everything that happens in this Palace. Everything.'

She rounded on Robert, but continued to address Poppy. 'Fact of the matter is that my son does not want to marry. And, unfortunately for you both, you made the mistake of underestimating me. Or perhaps overestimating yourself.

'Frankly, I do not care about what Robert wants. The people want a Royal Marriage and the Kingdom needs an heir. Robert shall provide both.'

She sat down on her bureau, crossing her legs graciously. She looked Poppy in the eye, dismissing Robert completely.

'By the end of this year some unlucky noble born brat will have a ring on her finger and you, Calliope, are going to make it happen. I swear to God and to both you and the King. By the end of this year. Or I'll make sure he'll never wear that crown again and put some other simpleton on the throne.

'Now off you go.'

She was out of her mind, his mother, batshit crazy. But he also knew she'd do it. Dethrone him. Find a way to depose him. He wondered if she'd get away with it. Decided he didn't want to find out.

What was worse: assassinating his mother or killing his brother for a wife?

He made a mental note to ask Poppy.

END OF ACT I.