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The skies were a swirling mix of grey and white early that morning, Mary had been ushered out of her home with the assistance of an umbrella despite the lack of physical rain. She’d known it had been coming, with the way her father was always tied up in meetings that even the guards (who typically didn’t care) shooed her away, like what was being discussed in the room was top secret. 

In the rattling carriage, she realised what the hush had all been about: her. 

Mary liked to think of herself as joyous, she found conversation enlivening and much preferred it to silence. Not now, she mused silently, shifting in her much too tight dress that was far uncomfortable for a day trip escorted by a horse and a space that left little leg room. She hadn’t said a word to her father since he’d told her the news of her engagement, how the arrangement between their two countries required it. 

She always found the idea of marriage appealing, though she supposed she always thought it would have been willing, that she’d fall in love first, not have been betrothed before she even met her suitor. 

From the corner of her eye, she watched her father clear his throat awkwardly. He’d been fidgeting that entire morning, Mary’s silence was rare, it was obvious he noticed it. For a moment, it seemed as if he expected her to break the silence that engulfed the carriage, but he quickly came to his senses and nodded his head at her. 

“Are you going to remain silent for the entirety of our travels?”

The only sort of response Mary gave him was flickering a glare in his direction. She wasn’t mad, not really. She’d just thought she was respectable enough to be given an explanation or a warning that she was about to travel across the continent to marry someone she didn’t know. They had sprung it on her the night before, her servants had packed all of her nicest dresses and jewelry as Mary stood and gaped in the centre of her room when the news dropped. 

Her gaze remained outside the carriage window. “Can you blame me for not wanting to speak?”

“Not necessarily,” her father replied. “Though I can admit, I am curious as to what’s going through your mind. You’ve never kept things from me before.” 

“You can’t say the same.” 

“I know you’re upset, it was all very last minute-”

“Yes, I’ve heard the excuse,” Mary interrupted, impolitely. Not very queenly of her, but she’d focus on that another time. “My love life is not really mine to begin with, I am well aware.” 

“You needn’t be so difficult about this, Mary.” 

She said nothing, he would not get it, he would not understand how it was to be a woman and be at a man’s disposal, he would not grasp it, not properly. And if he did, he would not care. 

“You’re going to be queen,” he continued. “You will live in a castle, you will have servants at your beck and call. You will never have to worry about funds or the means of an estate, it will all be handled for you. You are lucky, you got out the easy way.” 

Mary could have laughed in his face, though she remained neutral and returned to looking out the window. There was no use in arguing, she could scream and swear at him all she wanted, it would change nothing. By the end of the day, she would still be married to a king she did not know. So she nodded stiffly, remained silent and returned her attention to the outside world.

Eventually, the bumpy pathway and endless view of trees and empty fields slowly morphed into large, beautiful estates, and the dirt road grew sturdy with cobblestone. Mary immediately noticed the style change upon spotting dozens of women walking on the streets, wearing simple gowns that were straight at their feet. Mary didn’t own anything like that, her dresses were all extravagant and took up too much of the space she occupied. She preferred her style, she enjoyed the timeless design. She hoped the court wouldn’t force her to adapt to it. 

They rolled to a stop in front of a beige building that had far too many steps leading up to it. Mary took the hand of the guard once the door had opened, and gazed around in awe. The architecture was much different to what she was accustomed to, though she couldn’t say she disliked it. Her father appeared at her side immediately after, taking in the sight just like she’d been. 

A blond man that seemed to be her age rounded the carriage with a bow. Mary took in his appearance, by the look of his coat she was very quickly made aware that he was a part of the court. “Good evening,” he greeted, straightening back up. “I hope your travels were well. His Majesty’s mother has requested to see you before the wedding.” 

“Of course,” her father said, gesturing with the movement of his head for Mary to follow the man. She did without question, though she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the estate before her. 

The inside was just as grand, long green carpets with gold trim intertwining the edges, large columns that were engraved, chiseled the way a sculpture would be. The amount of guards surprised her, the amount in one room was how many she’d had in her hold home in total. She shouldn’t have been taken aback by it, this was real royalty, a high security event always. 

The room the blond escorted her into was smaller, though it didn’t lack charm. She was ushered to a stool, where she stood at the unwavering gazes before her. Mary tried not to shift uncomfortably as the woman in a long, regal green dress circled her, examining her. Mary kept her eyes straight, her back rigid. 

“Teeth,” the woman said. 

Awkwardly, Mary flashed her a weird sort of smile. 

“Good. You have good hips,” she went on, placing her hands on either side of Mary’s waist, catching her by surprise. She tried not to jolt. “Perfect for making heirs. Is this your summer colour?”

“I’m.. sorry?” Mary furrowed her brows. “Are you referring to my dress?”

“Never mind that,” the woman waved her off. The blond man had shifted on his feet at the question. The energy of the room had changed entirely, and Mary was beginning to think she meant something else completely. “Prepare her wedding gown. We must get it fitted.” 

“There’s no need,” Mary said. “I’ve brought my own, it has already got my measurements. Saves you time, does it not?”

“You shall wear ours,” she told Mary. “Imported from Paris, as you’re marrying the king who was born in France, it is quite appropriate.”

Mary bit her tongue. “Of course.” 

“Good,” the woman nodded. Now that she’d moved away, Mary took a good look at her. She wore her black hair in a tight bun on her head, and there was a bit of something dark on the lid of her eyes that made her skin appear even paler in the face. Her cheekbones were high and hollow. Mary could only imagine what the king looked like, hopefully he was at least somewhat easy on the eyes, perhaps less sharp around the edges like his mother, she’d enjoy someone who didn’t have a piercing stare that made her weary underneath its wrath. 

“Take her to her rooms,” she told the blond man. “She will be fitted for the ceremony. Make sure she is ready in time.”

“Of course,” the blond bowed to her, but the woman hardly acknowledged him. The room filed out, and Mary finally let herself breathe as only two remained. 

Mary started toward the hallway, the blond following closely behind her as she made her way down the narrow corridor she’d entered through. It was not hard to notice that the blond stayed behind her, not beside her. She didn’t like it, and paused. He stopped walking, too. Curiously, she turned to face him. 

“Walk with me,” she said, smiling. “I have questions.” 

“That is not how it is done, Your Highness.”

Her confusion only grew. “How what is done? What do you mean?”

“I cannot walk with you,” the blond told her. “Only behind.”

“Only behind?” Mary echoed. “You cannot walk with me?”

“Only behind, correct, Your Highness. I am always with you. Five paces behind.” 

“Five paces behind?” 

“Five paces behind.” 

Mary cocked her head to the side. “What is your name?”

“Evan,” he said, simply. Mary smiled at him, Evan seemed to struggle not to return it. 

“Evan,” she repeated. “Tell me about the king.” 

“He is the king, Your Highness.” 

“Yes,” Mary agreed. Obviously. “And?”

“He is ruler of Great Britain and Ireland and the colonies.” 

“Yes,” she said again. 

“He has been ruler since October with the departure of his older brother-”

“These are all commonly known facts, are they not?” Mary asked. “I am here because he is king. I know he is king, what I am asking is for non-surface level knowledge about him.” 

“They are still facts, Your Highness.” 

Mary hoped she wasn’t scowling, Evan took a step back just as she turned forward again. He must’ve looked worse than his mother, she could only presume. He must’ve been a horrible looking monster, that was the only explanation. 

Her worry only increased as the day progressed, her dress was not at all what she imagined for her wedding day, and she’d always dreamt of having her hair loose and at her shoulders, instead they had pulled her curls into an elegant bun on the top of her head, completing the look with a simple silver crown. She did enjoy that, though. The piece was beautiful and glimmering with diamonds. She couldn’t stop staring at it in the mirror, not until she was informed of the time. 

“Is he ugly?” She asked on the way there. Evan gave no sort of answer in his expression. “Athletic? Artistic? Quiet?”

“The arch-bishop has prepared vows for you, if you’d like to read over them.” 

Mary shot a glare at him over her shoulder. “This is quite unfair, you know.”

“What is, Your Highness?” 

“I’ve traveled out of my home country and across the continent for this wedding, for this marriage that I had no say in, and you cannot utter a single word to me about the king? Is he truly that horrible?”

“The king is not horrible, Your Highness,” Evan assured her, though something had flickered in his eyes. They were brown like honey in the light, matching the freckles on his nose, though that did not mean Mary had missed the hesitation in his stare. “He picked me specifically to guard you, to ensure that you would be safe.” 

“So he trusts you,” Mary mused, gaze narrowing. “You must know him very well. And yet you withhold this information from me.” 

Evan seemed as if he hadn’t heard her. “I was formally his footman, yes. I know him quite well. Before he was king, we used to play in the fields of the castle as children.” 

“And you’re childhood friends,” she shook her head. “He cannot be that bad, correct?”

“He is not bad, Your Highness. I assure you.” 

But there was something, there was a reason no one would tell her anything. Perhaps he lacked character, perhaps he was kind but dull. Mary could deal with that, she didn’t know why it had to be such a secret. 

“You mentioned his brother,” she said. “What’s happened to him?”

Evan’s jaw clenched. “Nothing happened to him, not exactly. His Highness simply was not prepared to hold the crown, he was not ready for the throne. He was far too immature and- I apologise,” he interrupted himself. “I have spoken out of turn.”

“No,” she quickly denied. “You have been honest. Thank you. I must.. use the pot chamber.” 

“Of course,” he nodded. “Right this way.” 

She was grateful they were on the first floor—it made sneaking out much easier. Cramming herself and her dress through the open window was a hassle, and it was a miracle no one had walked by during the process. Mary was quick to steady herself, checking to ensure no one had seen her before she hurriedly started down the pathway. All she needed was a good place to hide, to think and maybe plan an escape. She was being ridiculous, but was it not common to want to know something about the man you were to wed? 

There was an opened door to some sort of cellar, Mary noticed quickly. There was no one around to guard it, and that was exactly why she decided to slip inside of the room. It was smaller than any of the ones she’d been in so far, it lacked furniture and any sort of functionality. Curiously, she stepped further inside. There were coverings draped over large portraits, dusted and faded with the sun from the small window near the door. She moved to pull one of the sheets down, revealing a portrait twice the height of her. She couldn’t help but stare, she’d always been very fond about art. She turned to another painting, pulling off the old linen and admiring the next set of faces unmasked before her. Why would someone want to hide all of this?

Then, suddenly, she wondered if there was a portrait of the king in the room with her. She’d have no idea, no clue what he looked like. She would only be able to assume. As far as she knew, the king had never been wed before. If he did have a portrait, he would most likely be the only solo painting. This determined her, she waltzed over to the next frame, though paused at the sound of the door creaking open. 

“Looking for something?”

Mary froze, though she hadn’t turned around. Terror cursed through her veins at her discovery, and she reckoned she had about three seconds to come up with a good lie. “A child dropped a ball. I saw it roll in here, I was doing my best to fetch it for him. Worry not, you may resume whatever you were doing before you stumbled across me.” 

“A child dropped a ball,” the voice repeated, deep and vaguely sounding amused. “And that is why you are uncovering all of the portraits?”

She tried her best not to sigh, then turned her head to peer over at her interrupter to get a good look at him. He was in expensive clothing, she briefly wondered if he was a part of the court, too. Mary met his gaze momentarily, and for a moment she could not breathe. Perhaps the corset was strung too tightly, or perhaps it was the way he straightened instantly when she faced him. He was quite handsome, his hair wasn’t long, though his curls covered his forehead. His eyes were piercing, but not in the way that caused her unease. They seemed to have the opposite effect on her, she wondered if she’d ever be able to break away from them. He, too, had high cheekbones, a set jaw, and impeccable posture that only gave away further that he must have had some sort of relation to the court. 

“Oh, fine,” she huffed, rolling her eyes informally, though it didn’t matter to her then. “I am hiding.” 

“Hiding? From what, may I ask?” 

“My wedding,” Mary replied, moving to face the portraits again. She leaned forward to pull off another covering.

“Ah…” was his response, Mary spared a glance in his direction and just managed to catch the way his gaze flickered over her appearance. 

 “Because I fear he may be a troll. Or a beast.” 

The noise the man made sounded like a muffled chuckle. “And that is why you are uncovering the portraits?”

“I may have been hopeful for.. well, I’d hoped there would be one of him here. Though I suppose it would be pointless considering I have no idea what he looks like. You do, though. Don’t you?” 

“Does it matter, his appearance?”

“No,” she pursed her lips. “I just do not enjoy not knowing. He has a portrait, doesn’t he? Help me find it.”

“You are awfully demanding of someone you have just met.” 

“Are you going to help me or not?”

“Help you find a portrait of the king to judge his appearance? Seems like a waste of time to me.” 

“To you, maybe yes. But not to-”

“Perhaps you should take a better look at your surroundings, they may reveal the answer to your questions.” 

Mary blinked, his words slowly dawning on her and she tried not to gawk at him. She took in his appearance again, slower this time. She recgonised the colour of his eyes from his mother, where they had bore into hers and made her squirm, his were somehow warmer and more welcoming. At her reaction, his lip quirked, immediately exposing a dimple on his left cheek. “You’re…”

“Yes,” he nodded his head politely, hands clasped behind him as he took a step forward. He was nearly a foot taller than her, she felt like she’d shrunk now that they were standing even closer. “Hello, Mary. I am Regulus.”

This was her soon to be husband—her king. And she’d just compared him to a troll, had expressed her fear that he might’ve been a horrible beast, and the entire time she had been speaking to him about him. “I am- I apologise, Your Majesty,” she stammered out, lowering herself to a bow before him, though he stopped her by grabbing her hand and pulling her straight again. 

“Regulus,” he told her again. “Just Regulus.” Mary nodded, a little awkwardly. That wasn’t how she’d been raised at all, she wondered if it was some sort of setup. “The ‘King’ situation, it towers over us. Departure of my older brother, accidental birth on my end. I thought, perhaps as my wife you could ignore it, and I’d be just Regulus to you. That was, of course, before I found out that you did not want to be married to me.” 

“I did not say that,” Mary defended quickly.

“You did.” 

“I did not.” 

“You did.” 

“I did not.. mm.” She gave him a sharp look in defeat. “I do not know you, is all.” 

“I do not know you either. Except that you are a horrible liar.” 

Mary glared at him—she would’ve scowled, but mother always taught her scowling would wrinkle her face. “I am not.” 

“You are.”

“You cornered me.” 

“I believe you left the door open for anyone to walk in.” 

“Perhaps your issue that is you are nosey.” 

“Perhaps you are just a terrible liar.” 

“I did not have much to go off of, Your Majesty. I worked with my surroundings to the best of my ability.” 

“Regulus,” he corrected her again, and Mary fought off the urge to smile. “And you were aware that there were no children playing outside?” 

“I.. yes.” 

Accepting defeat was not easy for her, but she made the gesture with her hands and couldn’t help but smile sheepishly at him. Regulus’s stare was unwavering, it made her stomach flutter. 

“What?” She asked. 

“They did not tell me you would be this beautiful. People will talk, you know. Given I am troll.” 

Mary’s mouth opened in protest, but she closed it once she spotted his teasing smile. “You are .. nowhere near troll.”

Regulus’s gaze briefly dropped to the ground, then back to her. “What do you want to know?”

“What?”

“You said you do not know me. What do you want to know?”

Mary scanned him, then said: “Everything.” 

“Everything? Right, that is quite a lot.” 

“Mhm,” she nodded at him, smile growing against her will. 

“I was born nearly two years after my older brother, and I have far too many cousins to keep track of. I am quite extraordinary at playing piano, I enjoy a simple soup on a cold day, though I dislike honey. I like books, and good conversation. I much enjoy science, specifically space and astronomy.”

“Your name..” she trailed off, nodding at him. “It comes from the stars, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Regulus smiled. “You are correct.” 

“What else?” She wondered, watching him. 

“I .. have a scar, here. From my brother and I trying to craft something as children, and another one here, from a stray cat I had found in a forest. I am very nervous,” he made a funny sort of sound, like a laugh but also a scoff, “about marrying a girl I’ve only just met minutes before our wedding. Though I cannot show it by.. hiding in an old room filled with portraits. I cannot lie, I did not even know this place existed.” 

“How did you find me?”

“It was not hard,” he gestured to the outside, pointing to a building that faced where they stood. “I had been right there, I watched you climb from the window and rush in here.” 

“Did you know who I was?”

“Your gown may have given you away.” Mary smiled. “Speaking of.. you have your decision to make.” 

“Decision?”

“Of whether or not you would like to marry me. The choice is entirely up to you.” 

Mary stared at him, wordlessly, very shocked and a little confused. It didn’t seem like she’d been given much of a choice in anything so far, and yet here the king was, telling her that it was what she wanted to do. 

“I hope to see you in there,” he finished, curtly nodding his head. Mary continued to stand in the centre of the room, watching him disappear out of the door and through the courtyard. Regulus hadn’t even been away for ten seconds before Mary had made her choice. 

***

The ceremony was short and filled with faces of people she didn’t know, but Regulus had smiled at her the entire way down the aisle, even from across the room. Her father seemed to be more nervous than she was, especially when he had to move off to the side and allow her out of his grasp. The ring was abnormally large and made her fingers look small when it was slid on, though it was probably one of the most expensive pieces she had on and found it improper to complain about. 

Their first kiss was brief and chaste, though it hadn’t lacked the comfort or passion that Mary had so often dreamt about as a child, even as they pulled away she felt at ease that it was Regulus she was kissing. The night carried on, with dancing and endless tables of food, until they lined up at the door and saw their guests out. It was then Mary met one of her ladies of the court: Miss Emmeline, who had been escorted out by her own husband, Benjy Fenwick, who bowed to them both in farewell. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Regulus told her, murmuring. 

“A surprise?” Mary echoed. She didn’t like surprises, she didn’t like to wait. Whatever it was, she always wanted it presented before her instantly. 

Through another carriage ride, Mary discovered that her surprise was not a new dress or a pair of shoes, it was an estate. One that her former could fit into three times, at least. It was decorated with large red banners and had a guard positioned at every available opening. 

“What do you think?”

“It is beautiful,” she answered honestly, because it was. “Is this where we will live?”

“It is your house, yes.” 

“I do not understand,” she admitted. “Just mine?”

“Yes, I have an estate up in Kew.” 

“So.. you will stay in Kew and I will stay here?”

“Yes.” 

“It is our wedding night,” she followed after him up the stairs. “We are supposed… We are married. Are we not supposed to do what married people do?”

“Fine,” he said, though it sounded short, like he was angry. “I shall stay.”

“Regulus,” Mary said, frowning at his back. She lifted her dress to chase after him, through the clapping of the staff in the house and until they were in the foyer. “Regulus, slow down I cannot keep up-”

“I thought you wanted me in the bedroom, is that not where I should be?”

Mary gave him a quizzical stare. “Um.. no.”

“No?”

“Not if you’re going to behave like-” Mary frowned again, then lowered her voice. “Whatever you are angry for, it is not fair you cruel to me. I’ve done nothing. I haven’t, have I?”

“You’ve done nothing,” he agreed. “I just.. I want to go to Kew.”

“So let us go to Kew.” At his expression, she raised a brow. “You do not want me to go to Kew.”

“This is your home.” 

“And that is yours.” 

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It is easier that way.”

“Easier?” She shook her head, watching him step around her. “Easier for whom? Why would I want an absent husband?”

“I am not going to debate this with you.” 

“But you’ve had no issue debating anything else with me, you need to at least-”

“I do not need to do anything. I decide. I have decided, I am your king.” 

Mary felt like she’d been struck, the way his voice clipped in anger, how cold and different he was being compared to the person she’d spoken with earlier. She fell silent, took a step back. “My mistake. I thought you were just Regulus.” 

“Mary.”

“Am I free to leave or did you have something else you wished to say to me, Your Majesty?” 

She wished she could have understood the flicker in his expression and what it meant, but Regulus only nodded after a moment of silence. She was grateful for his departure, she had the urge to turn away and cry. Though she could not, not with Evan following so closely behind and leaving little space for her to think. 

“I am fine,” she said firmly, though she wondered if it sounded as much of a lie as she felt. 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Evan replied. 

“You do not need to follow me.” 

“I am to escort you to your quarters for the evening.” 

“Why did he behave in such a way?” Mary asked, pausing and facing her footman. “He was quite charming when we first met. Then again… he was securing me as a wife, wasn’t he? Don’t answer that.” 

“I was not going to, Your Majesty.” 

Mary huffed and lifted her skirts up another flight of stairs. Her servants helped undress her once she was in the safety of her own room, a large one with little colour, and stared sadly at herself in the mirror once she was in nothing but her undergarments. This was not how she’d imagined her wedding night, alone and upset and pining after the man she’d just been wed to. 

She hoped a good night’s rest would cure this feeling, that when she woke in the morning she’d forget about Regulus’s harsh words and that he had devastated her only hours after getting married. 

When she woke the following morning, she was determined to make the best of this. She would see what was on her agenda, and she would focus her attention elsewhere and everywhere that would not lead her back to her husband. 

Or that had been the plan until Evan revealed to her that she could not do anything, she could not go anywhere, because she was on her honeymoon. She could not meet her ladies, she had no tasks to complete. She was to do the same cycle every day: wake up, dress in her morning attire, eat breakfast, sit alone with her thoughts for hours, dress in her evening clothes, eat dinner, wallow in silence in her quarters until the sun rose the next day. 

This cycle could not continue, she had to find something. There was no entertainment, no creative outlet for herself. No conversation, she could only live the same day over and over again. Until finally, one evening at dinner, she firmly dropped her fork to the table and rose to her feet. 

“Evan,” she said. “Ready the carriage.” 

“Of course, may I ask where to?”

“We’re going to see my husband.” 

Evan seemed inclined to argue against that, but he said nothing. She could sense his disapproval the entire way to Kew. She could not find it in herself to care. 

She was immediately greeted with Regulus’s footman the moment she exited the carriage. “Where is he?” She asked. 

“Your Majesty, we were not expecting you-“

“Where is he?” Mary demanded. 

“The observatory, Your Majesty.” 

Mary nodded once, turned to leave and held a hand out to Evan once he started to follow. “Wait here.” 

She didn’t know whether it was how she said it, or the fact that he now suddenly felt like following her commands, Evan did not fight her on it this time. 

The walk to the observatory was quick, she was standing inside of it moments later, watching Regulus adjust the telescope to his liking just as she walked in. “Mary,” he blinked at her in surprise. “I was not expecting you.” 

She took a sweep around the room, it was well kept and all of his notes seemed to be stacked neatly on the desk. “Yes, well. I am full of surprises. Not like you would know, as you have spent every day since our wedding here, in this room.” 

“You are upset with me.”

“Yes, I am. Have I done something? Offended you, somehow?”

“I told you, you’ve done nothing.” 

“Then what is it? What is so wrong with me?”

“There is nothing wrong with you.” 

“Clearly there must be.” 

“There is not.” 

“Regulus I thought- I thought you were visiting a, um, brothel.” 

From where he stood, Mary saw him smirk. “Do you even know what that word means?”

She fought back a smile. “I know what a brothel is. Almost. But that is not the point. I somehow think this is worse. You prefer the.. the stars, to my company.”

“I did not say I prefer-“

“You have been in here, have you not? While I have been stuck in that stuffy house being changed like a doll three times a day with nowhere to go. No one to talk to, nothing to do. here you have been here.”

“You are the queen, you can do whatever you like.” 

“Except speak to my husband.”

“Come now, Mary.” 

“Regulus!” She snapped. 

“I do not know what you complain about,” he said, simply. 

Mary stood and stared at him. He would not understand—she would have to make him. “I am nine and ten years old, and suddenly I am queen. I have been ripped from my country, from my family and from my friends. I cannot do whatever I like. My old life, I did not have the customs a queen does. I cannot shop, I cannot visit galleries or museums. I do not know anyone here but you, and even then I..”

Regulus listened to her silently, almost too silent. He hadn’t said a word. “Regulus,” she repeated his name sharply again, warningly.

“What?”

“Say something!”

“I do not want to fight with you.” 

“I want to fight with you,” she scowled at him. “I want you to give me something, show me that you care, because frankly I feel as if I have married a cement wall, Regulus.” 

“Go home, Mary.” 

She reeled back from him, she hadn’t even realised how close the two of them had gotten. Mary gave him another moment to take it back, but he didn’t. She resigned, bowed, and took her leave with the shake of her head.  Evan was rushing back to the carriage from the house, Regulus’s footman Barty was hot on his tail. Mary did not utter a single word on the way home. 

Her days continued how they were: a morning dress, breakfast, an evening dress, dinner. Again and again and again, and Mary was pretty sure this was what going insane felt like. 

One afternoon, it changed. “The king has sent you a gift,” Evan informed her. “It is waiting in the foyer.”

Curiously, Mary marched in the direction immediately. In the centre of the room, was a guard holding a stack of canvases, and a pile of brushes and an entire colour palette of paints. She was moved by the gesture, the fact that he paid attention enough to her to notice that she had been admiring the portraits before she’d began searching for his face. The gift was not what she wanted, or what she hoped for. Perhaps it was silly that she thought her surprise would have been him, there with her in Buckingham Palace. 

She was grateful, something for her to do. But it wasn’t satisfying enough. “I want to meet my ladies-in-waiting.” Evan opened his mouth to protest, but Mary was quick to cut him off. “I want to, you cannot tell me what I can and can’t do.”

“Your Majesty, I am the last person who would ever tell you what you can or cannot do. I am here to tell you the best ways to do things you are not supposed to do. If you want to meet your ladies-in-waiting, it would be best to be discreet. Perhaps to not meet with all of them.”

Mary inclined her head. “Yes, I see. Would… Miss Emmeline be a good choice?”

“I have always found Lady Fenwick to be amusing, yes. She offers good advice.” 

“You know her well?”

“She was my neighbour, as a boy. We, too, were close as children.” 

Mary nodded. It was perhaps naive of her, but she often found herself trusting Evan’s judgment more than her own, she found him to be well knowledgeable, he knew more about the court than she ever would. “Right, then. I shall send for her.”

Emmeline met her an hour later in one of the entertainment rooms. She was a pretty girl, it was clear she was from Filipino descent, she wore her hair down in long black curls, offering a smile that Mary could not help but return. 

“How is the tea?” Mary asked her. “Is it to your liking?”

“It is wonderful, Your Majesty. It was kind of you to invite me to tea. Are you meeting all of your ladies-in-waiting individually?”

“No. Evan said you would be the most discreet seeing as I am on my honeymoon.” At Emmeline’s expression, Mary spared a glance over her shoulder to see that Evan suddenly looked horrified. She faced her lady again. “Which is going wonderfully, by the way. My husband is.. very kind, and funny. And bright.”

Emmeline shifted a bit, looking around the room. “May I speak freely, Your Majesty?”

Mary nodded her head, the guards and even Evan himself had cleared out of the room. “Yes, please,” Mary nearly groaned. “Speak freely. No one else seems to know how.”

“May I, Your Majesty?” Emmeline asked, gesturing to sit next to her. 

“Just Mary,” she corrected her, though eagerly patted the sofa to grant her permission. “If we are to be friends, I would like to keep the formalities to a minimum.” 

“Right,” Emmeline smiled at her. “Mary. Firstly, you are a terrible liar.”

“Ah, yes. So I have heard.”

“My honeymoon was not sunshine, either. Though I suppose that was because neither of us had any idea what to suspect after our marriage. It is not always so bad, the act.” Mary stared at her, a little crease forming between her brows. Emmeline straightened. “You know, the act that comes after your wedding? You did have a wedding night, right?”

“Yes..” Mary played with her fingers, anxiously. “It was not very good. He was rude, he shouted at me. He was selfish. All I wanted was for him to stay with me, and he apparently could not understand why.”

“He did… You did consummate the marriage? If you did not, you are not actually married to the king. Your entire position could be in jeopardy. My god, the entire Great Experiment would be in jeopardy. You do know what I mean when I say consummate, right?”

“Does it have something to do with this… Great Experiment?”

“Let us send for Evan,” Emmeline declared. “We will require drawing paper.” 

Mary stood and followed after her. Evan opened the door the moment Emmeline rang for him. It was easy to say Mary was a much better artist, but as she gazed upon the figures Emmeline had drawn for her, all she could do was gape. 

“Oh,” she managed. “Is that… does it hurt?”

“It can,” Emmeline told her honestly. “Though it does not always. Eventually you will get used to it, you will want to do things your way. Perhaps the king will let you as Benjy has for me. Not every woman is so lucky.” 

“Will I enjoy it?”

“I think that is subjective, I find if it is with someone you like, it is enjoyable.” 

“Well, I do not like Regulus. This all seems very pointless.” 

“Your Majesty,” Emmeline warned, lowly. “This is Britain. It was not long ago queens were beheaded for not bearing children.” 

“That is not going to happen.”

“That is not.. mm. You are very stubborn.” Mary smiled at that, though she squashed it quickly. “You are the first of your kind. You must secure your position. This is important.” 

“Yes,” she agreed. “But this is not my failing.” 

***

“Has it gotten bad again?”

“That is solely my focus. You don’t need to worry.”

“But I do . He was my friend too.”

“I know that,” Barty hissed, Evan could only scowl at him. A meeting this early in the morning could cause quite a scandal, especially for people like them. They were lucky no one dared to venture to the back of the estates, even if they did nothing, an accusation would ruin them. “But I am telling you, Reg does not want you to focus on him. He wants you paying attention to Mary and only to Mary. He will overcome this, I’m sure of it.”

“It is not the first time.” 

“Believe me, I am well aware.” 

“He needs to see her,” Evan stated. “She is growing impatient, and sad, I’m sure.”

“Our king is not in the highest of spirits, either. Why do you think he stays away?”

“Because he is self-loathing,” Evan whispered, as if afraid to be overheard by the trees. “He does not think he is worthy. He needs to straighten himself.” 

“What do you think I am doing?”

“Allowing him to hide away in his observatory, like he always does to distract himself.” 

“I cannot command the king.” 

“No,” Evan agreed. “But you can influence him. We are his best friends.”

“We were his best friends,” Barty corrected. 

Evan eyed him. “I still think he values your opinion dearly, Barty.” 

“He always valued yours more, Rosier.”

“And what would you have me do? I have already told him to give her a gesture, it was not enough. She is not satisfied, she only wants to see him.”

Barty’s jaw clenched, “I’ll do what I can, but you know I can’t make any promises.” 

“I know,” Evan said, because he did. 

“I shall see you tonight. For an evening stroll. Yes?”

Evan nodded. “Yes, for an evening stroll.”

***

Mary was prepared for the same repeating day yet again, she woke, she was dressed, she attended breakfast, then lunch, then changed into her evening dress, a light pink with a beautiful design down the middle, for no one to see it when she arrived at the dinner table. But then a guard stepped out of the way, and Mary froze as Regulus rose from the table. 

“Hello, Mary.” 

She stepped to the side, heart pounding. It wasn’t hard to notice the incline of Barty’s head, she wondered what he was nodding at that was just past her. “Hello,” Mary managed to say. 

“Would you mind if I joined you for dinner this evening?”

“Dinner?” She repeated after him, growing rapidly furious with him. “Dinner?!”

“Mary-” Regulus called after her immediately, following behind her when she turned and stormed out of the dining area. “Mary, would you just- Where are you going?”

“Anywhere that is away from you.” 

“Mary, stop.” She probably would have on her own accord if he’d just said her name one last time, but he’d gently caught her by the arm and pulled her to a full stop. “I understand that you have no reason to like me, and I cannot blame you. But.. if you just give me one evening of your time, allow me to show you where my mind has been. It might not make you forgive me, but it may make you hate me a little bit less.”

I don’t hate you, she so desperately wanted to say. It was very strange that she didn’t. She definitely should have, but she only longed for him to be near. Mary missed him and he was merely a stranger to her. There was just something so captivating about him that made her draw near, something about him entirely that was safe and reassuring. She felt like an idiot for agreeing to go with him, but Mary found he was impossible to stay away from. 

They arrived at Kew, Regulus led her back to the observatory while their footman stayed back. He showed her to the telescope, gently held her by her waist to keep her in place. “What exactly am I looking for?”

“Something I have been searching for since last October. Right… there.”

“The star? All of this has been about a star?”

“The brightest star in the sky, though it has somehow been impossible for me to find.” 

“It is beautiful,” she said, and when she turned to look at Regulus, she noticed that he had rapidly glanced away, like he’d been staring at her. “But I don’t understand. This is what you have been doing? Looking for this star?”

“Sirius, yes.” 

Mary stepped back, eyes widening only slightly. “Sirius. You mean your brother. You have been looking for your brother.. in the sky?”

Regulus’s gaze flickered away from her face. “I fear that I have not been the same since Sirius’s departure. He was not ready for the crown, he did not want the responsibility of it. And.. I know it is unreasonable, but I have had no contact with him. This has made me closer to him, somehow. Sirius had always been the one to steady me when I needed it. He was the only solid thing in my entire childhood, it feels like I have been unraveling since he’s left.”

“Why did he leave?” Mary asked, softly. 

“I’m sure you’ve taken notice of the,” he chuckled, bitterly. “The charm my mother has. Sirius loathed her, and she always reiterated how she wished I had been born first. That I was more suited for the crown. I never thought so, but she did. I suppose they got into a fight, my brother renounced his title, and he was gone the very next day. I never felt good enough to be a leader, and I felt even less qualified for you. I suppose it is why I have stayed away for so long.”

“Mm..”

“This room, this observatory, doing this? It calms me. My mind.”

“Calms your mind?”

“I often get very far into my head. Barty has told me it’s hazardous, Evan has told me I’m an idiot, a great idiot, but an idiot nonetheless. Studying the stars seems to be the only thing as easy as breathing, for me at least. But it is unfair to you, that I do this. Because knowing you is just as easy as breathing, too. And I far enjoy your company too much to have you remain angry at me, Mary. I should not have acted that way on your wedding night.”

“It was your wedding night, too.” 

“I am so sorry.” 

“Yes, well, I do not forgive you,” she told him firmly. His expression changed, the slight crumble of it was enough to make her eat her words. “Yet,” Mary added. 

“Yet,” Regulus nodded. “Yet is good. Yet is hope.”

“Perhaps.” 

“You know…” He drew closer, taking both of her hands into his. He wore many rings, but only one replicated the singular piece on her own finger. “It does not technically count as our wedding night because we did not have the night part.”

“I have been told that as well,” she murmured, watching him toy with the edge of her cloak. Her heart was pounding, she hoped Regulus could not hear it. 

“We could start over. If you are willing.” 

“I think that is a very reasonable idea.” 

Regulus met her halfway, still holding her hands like she were a delicate piece of glass. Their second kiss was much longer than the one they shared at their wedding. She wondered if he could sense her longing, if he could taste the way she’d been pining after him in his absence, because she could feel his. The way he desperately clung to her, how he had steadied himself by holding her chin and barely giving her time to come up for air. 

She had never felt like this before, eager for more and helplessly pulling at the hair on the nape of his neck while he moved to kiss her jaw. She could have melted like ice, fully turned into a puddle on the floor right there due to the heat his hands left trailing in their wake. 

In all of the pictures Emmeline had drawn her, Mary assumed this sort of thing would take place on a bed. There was no such object around, and apparently, they were both too impatient to wait and return home to resume it. Regulus only pulled away to gaze at her softly, an obvious question in his eyes. “Do you know how-”

“Yes,” she interrupted him, brushing her lips over his cheek. She could feel his lashes flutter shut, felt him exhale when she kissed the corner of his mouth. 

“And you want to?”

“Yes,” Mary confirmed, growing more impatient. 

“Here?”

“Yes, God,” she kissed him full on the mouth again, whatever he was about to say next turned to a quiet groan. Her stomach warmed instantly—Emmeline had never told her about the thrill of making a man react like that. “Must you keep talking?” 

“I’m just saying,” he slowly moved her backward, mouth finding any exposed skin it could find and explore. “This is highly improper.” 

“Mhm..” She breathed out, allowing him to push her down onto the cushioned bench. His fingers were warm as he undid the multiple layers of clothing she was in. He fiddled with them like he’d done this before, and soon she was just in her corset. “And are you complaining?”

“I don’t think I could complain about anything where you’re involved.” 

It was not the first time Mary had blushed at his words, and she doubted it would be the last. Instead of answering, she pulled him down to her by tugging on his shirt. “Precisely, so shut your mouth.”

“Lie down,” he instructed her. 

Mary didn’t know what she expected after that, though Regulus was gentle and murmured reassuring things into her ear when it did finally happen, and it wasn’t nearly as horrible as she thought it would be. It did not continue on for hours as she feared it would, they ceased the action in a dignified manner of time that left her breathless but still satisfied, and when Regulus kissed her again, she brushed one of his curls off from his forehead. 

“Does this mean you’re coming back to Buckingham House?” Mary whispered.

Regulus chased her for another kiss, sweet and softer that time. “I am coming home to Buckingham House.” 

She reckoned they would remain like that, sweet and gentle, until the following morning she stumbled across a conversation between Walburga and he, one that made her stomach churn and left a bitter taste in her mouth when she turned to escape down the hall. 

You want to know if I have properly bedded her. I have done all you’ve asked. To live for the happiness or misery of a great nation. 

“I do hate him,” she told Emmeline on a stroll one day—the honeymoon phase had ended, she was now allowed public visitation and could go wherever she pleased. Coronation had started it all. Perhaps for better or for worse. “The.. act is all we do. It is all I am.” 

“It is not all you are,” Emmeline shook her head. “Though it does feel like it, sometimes.” 

“Yes,” Mary agreed, though it wasn’t the act that bothered her. She enjoyed it, actually. As she grew used to it and the feeling, she realised just how many different ways it was possible to happen. Regulus had even used his mouth once, had pinned her against a wall and caused her to gasp so loud she was afraid Evan would come running, assuming she’d been hurt. It wasn’t the act, it was the fact that Regulus had spoken of her in such a manner to his mother. As if that were all she truly was to him. “It is awful.” 

That was a lie—it was all she thought about now. Every moment spent with him was spent trying to rile him up, trying to find a new approach and evoke a different reaction. It worked every time. 

Dinner was silent, the only sound was his very obnoxious breathing while he set his glass down. “Would you not breathe so loudly?”

“Would you stop being so demanding?”

“I will be what I wish to be. Were you not the one who told me I may do whatever I like?”

“What exactly is the problem? You have been behaving like a child since my first morning here and I have explained—”

“You have been breathing in my rooms,” she snapped, dropping her fork loudly onto her plate, rising to her feet. Regulus followed in suit, loudly banging his fists onto the table. 

Barty and Evan shared wary looks behind their backs. 

Regulus marched across the room, closing the distance between the both of them, hitching a finger beneath her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “Shall I leave?”

“Yes,” she whispered in return. “Now.” 

Mary frowned at his back when he turned, and caught him by the wrist. “What?”

“You’re just going to leave?”

“You told me to-”

Mary cut him off, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him flush against her. Regulus made a low sound in the back of his throat, and when Mary opened her eyes again, the entire dining room had cleared out. She barely had enough time to acknowledge how quickly Evan and Barty had ushered all of the guards out before Regulus was bending her over the table and lifting her skirts. 

Then again in the bath, though she hadn’t provoked him this time. The urge had come like it was second nature, Mary had him weak and clutching her before she adjusted herself and went about her evening. Once more the following night after dinner, a quick round that still somehow left the two of them panting and staring at the ceiling. 

“Where are you going?” He asked her, lazily from the bed when she rose. 

“My quarters.” 

“You will not stay?”

“Why would I?” She threw over her shoulder. “After all, I am now, what were those words? Ah, living for the happiness or misery of a great nation.” 

“Mary-”

She’d already closed the door. 

***

“I did not expect to see you until lunch,” Mary stated, catching Emmeline’s eye as she bowed in greeting. Mary was distracted, watching Regulus stroll about through the courtyard with Barty. 

“I wanted to speak to you about the hall I am hosting.” 

“You’re hosting a ball? How lovely.” 

“I know you will not attend, seeing as how the king does not allow social gatherings-”

“Is that not odd?” Mary interjected, head tilting to the side. It was something that bothered her deeply. She much enjoyed events like balls, she liked the music and the food, and most of all the dancing. Her husband’s dislike for it was most confusing. “Do you know why?”

“I do not.” 

“Mm.”

“Your Majesty, about the ball, I was wondering if you could persuade your other ladies-in-waiting to attend.” 

“Did you not invite them?”

“I did, but-”

“What the hell is he doing?” Mary peered closer to the window. “Are they- Evan, are they really playing catch right now? This is how he shall occupy his time?”

“I believe they are, Your Majesty,” Evan confirmed. “It was quite the popular sport when we were children. They do not seem to have grown out of it.” 

“Mary,” Emmeline said again. “Please, focus.” 

“On your ball? Yes, you can throw it.” 

“Princess Walburga has asked me to cancel it.” 

 Mary grumbled. “Of course she has.”

“You do not understand, do you?”

“Understand what?”

“If you were not queen..”

“But I am.” 

“Yes, but if you were not, your life would be very different. Someone like me hosting the first ball of the season is.. It needs to be successful, for our future and the future of our children. I already have two, you are working on having your own, do you not want life to be normal for them? You hold our fates in your hands, you are our queen. I am asking you to lower your palace walls.”

“Emmeline,” Mary said. “If you need me to attend this ball of yours, all you need to do is ask.” 

“But it is unlikely that you will, because of the king, which is why I am asking you to convince your other ladies.” 

“No,” she shook her head. “Women can often not be dissuaded from what they want. Regulus, however..”

“You truly think you can change the king’s mind? He has not attended a social event in all of the months he’s been king.”

Mary smirked. “I think you doubt me, Lady Fenwick.”

That evening, Mary made her way to his quarters. The night started as it usually did, desperate, slow kissing until they were both at their breaking points, until the only thing between them were the bed linens. When she moved to leave, Regulus bid her a quiet goodnight. And she just could not take it anymore. 

“You live for the happiness or misery of a great nation.”

“Mary-“

“No, I am saying I understand. You live for the happiness of others. It is your job as king, it has always been. I cannot imagine how lonely it has been.” 

“It is all I have ever known, do not take pity.”

“I am not taking pity, Regulus. I am trying to understand. It is why you pull away so much, is it not?”

“Did you come here tonight to evaluate me?”

Mary started to smile. “‘Evaluate’ is an interesting choice of words. I am just observing. Like you in your observatory.” 

“Clever girl,” he poked at the flesh of her arm. “Did you just come up with that?” 

She rolled her eyes, and promptly kicked his leg from under the duvet. “I know I probably do not deserve it after how I have acted recently, but I believe we need to get out. To attend some sort of ball or gathering. And I know you do not like those types of things, you doubt yourself, I have seen it. But you are not alone anymore, I am here. And when you start to question yourself, I will be there to answer. I think you are great, Regulus.” 

He could not seem to form a reply, he only brushed the pad of his thumb against her cheek softly, gazing at her with such a look of relief and tenderness it had her leaning forward to kiss him again. 

The Fenwick’s estate was more grand than Mary had been expecting, and the ball was an absolute hit, the candlelit room and the large crowd that parted for them would surely remain memorable. Regulus held her arm tightly, a silent reminder that he did not like events such as these. Mary kept her arm firmly locked through his as reassurment of her previous words. 

“Lord Fenwick,” Mary greeted him as the hosts bowed to them. “A pleasure to finally meet you. Thank you for having us, Lady Fenwick.” 

Emmeline smiled at her, nodding in polite acknowledgment to Regulus who had fallen silent upon all sets of eyes on them. His gaze raked around the room, taking it all in, then he led her to the centre. It was standard for the king and queen to start the dance, especially considering Regulus had never attended any gathering in his reign. 

“Just look at me,” she murmured, holding his hand properly when the music began. 

“I planned on it,” he replied, a smile pulling at his mouth. 

Mary tried to give him a scolding look, but she struggled to remain stoic, continuing to allow him to twirl her around. Soon, the other partygoers joined, dancing with partners that were not theirs, merging them all as one. The event was a success—Mary reveled in it when they returned home. 

“Do you know how much progress you have made in just one night?” 

“We have made,” she corrected. “We did it together. You can do anything, Regulus.” 

He stood from their bed to grasp her by her hips, lugging Mary to him like she weighed nothing. “With you by my side, I think I can.” 

“You sap-”

Mary did not get the opportunity to finish, Regulus had properly grabbed her and flipped her onto her back. Her laugh echoed in their room, his own chuckle was husky but genuine while he cupped her cheek, kissing her. 

This was what pure bliss meant, to lounge in bed for the evening with Regulus, to speak freely and lowly and to be kissed urgently like tomorrow would not come. 

When she woke in the midst of the night—her husband was not beside her. Mary propped herself to her elbows, brows furrowed. She found Regulus easily, pacing in the corner of the room. His face was even paler in the moonlight, his hands shaking. 

“Regulus,” she called out, voice wavering ever-so-slightly. This was not what she’d been expecting to wake up to, it was startling. 

His head snapped over in her direction. “I’m fine, just go back to sleep.” 

That was not convincing. She ignored his request and climbed out of bed. “What is going on?”

“I told you, everything is fine.”

“Reg.” 

For the first time, he looked at her. She caught him by his shaking hands, her fingers delicately brushing over his. They did not stop shaking, though he had gripped her back like a lifeline. 

“Talk to me,” Mary murmured, staring at him. “What are you doing?”

“It happens sometimes,” he shook his head. “When I cannot sleep, when I cannot seem to get my mind to rest. It is why I hate social gatherings so badly, they encourage this. Sirius used to.. well, he used to be excellent and curing this. I don’t know what he did to fix me.”

“You do not need to be fixed,” she said. “You are perfect.” 

“No, Mary. You do not understand. This country cannot have a king that is afraid of crowds or, or a king that wakes up in a cold sweat because he is incapable of calming himself after seeing his people.” 

“None of those things make you broken, Regulus.” She dropped her hand so she was only holding one of his. “Do you want to go on a walk?”

He blinked. “What?”

“A walk. You said the stars and the night sky always calmed your mind. We have no observatory here, so I thought…”

Regulus squeezed her hand. “A walk sounds great.” 

So they did—by the time they finished a round along the entire palace, the sun had started to rise. And Regulus? He had returned to his normal state.

***

“Your Majesty,” Barty greeted one morning, dipping his head in Regulus’s direction over the table. “Your mother has arrived.” 

Mary stiffened immediately, Regulus appeared to be even less enthused. “We are not accepting visitors.” 

“She has brought the royal physician.” 

Mary turned to face him now, frowning. “Whatever for?”

Barty glanced awkwardly between them. “My guess is to see if you are with child or not.” 

That sounded utterly dreadful, and it was. Walburga had left them literally no choice, stood on the palace front steps with the doctor right beside her. She stared uncomfortably up at the ceiling of her bedroom, grimacing every time the doctor moved a tool. 

“Is it supposed to take this long?” Mary demanded. 

“Just being thorough, Your Majesty.” 

As if it weren’t uncomfortable enough, having Walburga and Evan in the room somehow seemed to make it worse. She tried not to squirm, until finally, the physician pulled away. 

“She is with child. And well along, at that. I’d say about four months. Congratulations, my queen.” 

Mary would have been thrilled if it weren’t for Walburga’s next words. “Perfect. I shall have my things moved in immediately.”

“What?” Mary’s disapproval was not hidden. She pushed herself upright to properly stare at the princess. 

“You are carrying the country’s future, your protection is most important.”

The physician pulled away, packing his things while Mary tried to keep her breathing normal. “I shall alert the king.” 

“No,” Mary said immediately. “I will do it.”

The physician bowed his head, and Mary awkwardly climbed off the bed after fixing her dress. Regulus and Barty were standing right outside of the door, Evan was quick to escort her out of the room. She was sure this was the only time both of their footmen would give them their space. The two strayed back as Mary pulled Regulus down the hallway. For a moment, she thought she saw Evan briefly touch Barty’s arm, but when she turned fully, the pair had their arms folded in front of either of them. 

“So?”

“Your mother is staying with us.” 

Regulus inhaled sharply, then glanced back at her. “Right, yes. But I meant..”

Instead of giving him an answer, she grabbed hold of his hand, placing it firmly on her stomach. She doubted he would feel anything through her layers of clothing, but that didn’t seem to bother him, his gaze earnest and lips parting in slight awe. 

“Yes,” she murmured, smiling. “But your mother is staying with us.” 

Regulus groaned quietly, dropping his head onto her shoulder with great caution while his hand remained on her stomach. 

Walburga was an utter drag, she was displeased and always seemed to have something negative to say, even if it was something as simple as the table decor. Mary did not have hope that her attitude would improve—it was no wonder Sirius had run off to escape the crown (or the princess dowager herself) because of her antics. As winter turned to spring, Mary was nearly at her limit. Regulus was not often seen, he frequently visited Kew on clear nights for the observatory, though Mary would remain at home, the motion of the carriage was enough to make her queasy. She would see him in the mornings, he would walk her to breakfast and they would share an uncomfortable discussion between the three of them. He would spend his afternoons in a common room, signing things while Mary sewed or painted. He would leave after that, returning the following morning. It was not a bad routine, but the gaps left much too plenty time for Walburga to bombard her with pestering questions, testing what little patience Mary had left. 

Mary could not wait until this was over—to have the baby (the kicking was growing so frequent Mary was starting to wince when it occurred) though it seemed the day would come sooner than expected. 

“Mary,” Regulus said, readjusting his hand on her shoulder. “You’re moving.” 

“It is not noticeable,” she answered, keeping her gaze straight ahead. 

“You have not stopped fidgeting since we started the portrait.” 

She turned her head to frown at him. The painter made a sound of protest at her back. “You try sitting still with a thrashing baby in your womb. It is your fault I cannot sit still.” 

“It is not my fault-“

“It is.” 

“It is duty-“

“My duty shall be suffocating your face in a pillow tonight if you do not remain silent,” Mary snapped, rolling her eyes. Regulus only blinked. If she hadn’t turned her head away again, she would not have missed the amused smirk at his lips. 

The painter cleared his throat, and they both fell silent. Walburga glanced between them from where she sat on one of the benches. “I am nearly finished, Your Majesties. You needn’t debate on my part.” 

“Let us see,” Regulus commanded. Mary’s brows furrowed at the sight of the portrait, though it certainly looked like the two of them, there was an obvious contrast. 

“Paint my skin darker,” Mary said. “As it is.” 

“Show me,” Walburga interjected, then firmly shook her head. “No, paint it lighter. We want her to glow.” 

Mary raised a brow, directing it at the painter. “You defy my order?”

“No, Your Majesty,” he said, quickly. 

“You have grown quite comfortable,” Walburga said disapprovingly, as if Mary was not queen, as if she had not been for the better half of a year. 

“As have you,” Regulud drawled slowly. He nodded at his footman. “Barty, have my mother’s things packed.” 

Walburga gaped in return. “I am your mother. You cannot-”

“I am your king,” he interrupted. “And I can. You may return for the birth of our child, not for anything else. I will not have you disrespect my wife.” 

“Evan,” Mary called. “Help Barty.” 

Evan bowed his head, they shared a secret smile before he turned to leave. A guard escorted the princess out, and Regulus came around front to stand before Mary. She loosely grabbed one of his hands. “The urge to suffocate you may have just decreased.” 

“A shame,” he mused, free hand brushing over her waist. “I quite liked the idea of it.”

“Of it?” Mary repeated, confused. “Why would you- oh . How scandalous, Your Highness.” 

His grin was wide enough to make her return one, and he led her out of the room without so much as a glance back to the painter. 

As time progressed, Mary’s dresses only became tighter and more uncomfortable as the weather warmed. They shifted into a more relaxed routine, Mary resorted to places that were coolest in the palace, Regulus often lounged with his arm around the back of the sofa reading, while she relaxed against him and feigned interest in the page he was on. 

One night, Mary woke up to him pacing again. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the previous time, he wasn’t hyperventilating or shaking, though he was clearly suffering just the same. 

“Regulus,” she called. “Reg, what is it?” 

“I cannot- I can’t-”

She was out of bed in an instant, tripping over the sheets and her skirts to meet him where he stood. Regulus reached for her, and Mary let him cling to her. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s just us. What is bothering you?”

“It is silly, Mary. Return to bed.” 

“It is not silly if it’s keeping you up. Talk to me.” 

There was a moment’s hesitation. “I worry about it all. About the country, that I will not succeed as king. I worry that I will not be good enough for you, for our child. That he will turn out like me, aimlessly wandering at night and unable to sleep over such silly things. I worry that he will not be loved due to this.. this, whatever it is.”

“Is that what you think?”

She was completely appalled, appalled that he could think he was not good enough for anything, not deserving of it, when he was most of all deserving. Appalled that he thought himself so low that he found himself unloveable. 

“What?”

“That you are not loved?”

“Mary..” 

“Is it because you believe that I cannot love you? Due to this? Because I do.” 

Regulus rapidly shook his head, Mary placed her hand on his cheek and forced him to stop. “No, no. 

This.. darkness is my burden. You bring the light. I could not ask you to bear it. I could not wish that responsibility, to oblige you to it.”

“You do not have to ask me to do anything,” she whispered, gazing up at him earnestly. “I will do it because I love you. Even if you were complete ruin I would still love you, I would still seek you out in every room, I would still find you worthy. You are perfectly good enough you are.. you are perfect.”

Regulus clutched her tightly. “You could ruin me and I would still crawl home to you.” Stunned into silence, all she could do was gape at him. “I love you,” he murmured, lowering his forehead against hers. “I have loved you since I discovered you in the old portrait room and theorised that I was a troll. Since the very first day. I love you, Mary Macdonald.”

“I do believe it is technically Black-”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, and then he kissed her. 

***

Crouched over his desk, Mary silently approached the doorway and watched him scribble words onto some parchment. “I can feel you watching me,” he told her without looking back. 

“I like watching you,” Mary said, stepping further into the room. Barty bowed his head to her, and shut the door behind him. 

“You make it more difficult for me to write.” 

“I am hardly doing anything.” She knew exactly what she was doing, she would remain smug. “I bet you are doing a fine job.” 

“This is a speech to Parliament. I cannot do a fine job. I must be brilliant.” 

It was clear this hadn’t been his first speech, Mary picked up three separate pieces of paper and scanned them. “These are the words of a brilliant man. And so are these.” 

“Mary.” 

“Perhaps you need a bit of distraction.”

“Distraction?” He repeated, looking at her for the first time. Something in her tone must’ve given away what she was insinuating, because his eyes dropped to her mouth before he straightened. She’d hoped for something, she had been in heightened pain nearly all day. Her back ached, her feet throbbed. There was typically one thing that could make her erase it all, even for just a short amount of time. 

“I believe I have the distraction to help.”

“I do not need distraction. What I need is to deliver the perfect speech to Parliament. Or do you wish for me to longer be king?”

“I did not say that,” Mary frowned, and the accusations made her head pound. 

“Perhaps I should simply surrender and offer them my head. Put an end to the monarchy. Let them call me cowardly King Regulus who cannot give speeches without shaking, let them laugh. Is that what you wish?”

“Stop,” she said. 

“I am. My deepest apologies. This.. this is important. It may be best if we leave the distractions to another time.” 

“Reg,” she said again, catching his attention fully when she placed a hand on the table to brace herself. “Stop.” 

His expression grew with concern instantly. “Mary.” 

“The baby,” Mary whispered, reaching for him. Regulus dropped the papers in his hand and lunged for her. “It is coming.” 

“Now?”

“I believe so.” 

“Barty!”

The baby did come, though not until late that evening. Not until after Mary writhed and cried in pain and begged for them to allow Regulus in. He was her lifeline, and she would implant an anchour in him. It was one of the most painful experiences she had ever endured, even with Emmeline talking her through it and Regulus allowing her to squeeze the circulation out from his hand. 

At the sound of the first cry, Mary crumbled against her bed. Regulus did not leave her side for a single moment, not until Mary had assured him it was fine. And then, the physician made an odd sort of sound. 

“The first heir to the throne.. is a girl.” 

“A girl?” Emmeline echoed. “That is wonderful, Your Majesty. I only have boys.” 

They had not prepared for a girl. The entire time, Mary thought it would be a boy. The next king. This brought up entirely different issues, but… As she held her baby, none of them mattered. A girl was just as good as a boy, if not better. Mary would get to raise her to be strong, to speak her mind. And to make her own choices. 

Walburga was not pleased when she heard the news. Another heir was to be produced immediately, Mary could not find it in herself to care. 

A week later, Parliament was ready for Regulus’s speech. He had fussed over it, even in the sleepless nights of having a newborn (Mary insisted the baby reside in their room) and wrote approximately three more versions of the speech. That morning, Mary found him in one of the foyers. 

“Here I am,” she announced, taking immediate notice of his shaking hand. 

“I have been waiting.” 

“I am not late. I was with the baby. There is plenty of time.” Smiling, Mary adjusted one of the buttons on his shirt. “You look very handsome. Do you have your speech?”

“In hand. Though I am rethinking the middle section on the colonies.”

She gently took his shaking hand. “Parliament will appreciate all of your thoughts. You are ready.”

“Thank you,” he said, lowly after she kissed him. 

“Off you go,” Mary replied, squeezing his bicep and stepping to the side. She would have been an idiot not to notice the look Evan shot Barty. As the king and his footman left, Mary turned to her own. “He is going to be brilliant.” 

“Of course, Your Majesty.” 

“Have you ever courted someone before, Evan?” She asked as they walked down the hall. 

Mary could hear the surprise in Evan’s tone. “No, Your Majesty. I would not have the time.”

She stopped walking, Evan did too. She turned to look at him, lips pursed. It was the first time she’d ever seen Evan squirm. “Hm,” was all Mary said in response. 

Mary had bigger things to worry about that evening, anyway. When Regulus and Barty returned early, and Parliament was not pleased. “What was it?” She asked, Barty and Evan escorting her down the hall. “Did his speech not go well?”

“His Majesty did not deliver his speech. He never got out of the carriage.” 

“What do you mean he did not get out of the carriage?” 

“He could not get out of it.” 

“What?” She stopped dead in her tracks. “‘Could’ not?”

“Could not, Your Majesty.” 

“He was fine this morning I do not-”

“He was not fine!” Barty raised his voice, and when Mary blinked at him, he dropped his eyes. “He was not fine, Your Majesty. It was merely just hope.”

Mary paused. “Wait here.” 

Regulus’s room was just how they’d left it that morning, except for the fact that it seemed empty. He was supposed to be in there, but she could not see him anywhere. 

“Reg?”

“Mary.” 

His voice came from somewhere around the bed. She followed it, assuming he was under the covers somewhere, but he was not. “Barty told me what happened. Do you want to talk about it?”

“There is nothing to talk about.” 

Curiously, she peeked under the bed to see him lying there. “Regulus,” she said, quietly. “Sweetheart, can you come out for me?”

“Sirius and I used to hide here,” he told her after a moment. “Not here, specifically. But under his bed, in his room. When things grew awful with our parents.”

“Your parents are not here, Reg. There is no need to hide. All is well.” 

“No. All is not well. It is all very, very wrong.”

Mary did not move for a moment, until finally she held back a grimace of pain and slid underneath next to him. “Mm,” she hummed. “Cozy.”

“Yes.” 

“Tell me. What happened today?”

“I could not get out of the carriage. I could not even read the words on the page, I could not breathe. I was in this surge of.. panic. If lapsed over me. I did not feel real, nor did I feel human. The thought of facing Parliament.. it sickened me. I felt as if I was going to pass out. I would understand if you want to leave.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she whispered. “I will not leave.”

“I would not blame you.” 

“I am your queen. I love you, I am not going anywhere. I will remain by your side. That is how it will be done.”

He accepted her outstretched hand. “I am so sorry I did not tell you who I was before we married.” 

“You did. You said you were just Regulus. That is fact. That is all you need to be with me, for me.” 

He squeezed her fingers, sighing. “I do not know how to repair things with Parliament. I fear it will overtake my crown. But I cannot go back there.” 

“Hm,” she scrunched her nose. “If the Crown cannot go to Parliament, then Parliament must come to the Crown. Perhaps it is time we opened up the doors to Buckingham House.” 

That was exactly what they did—the entirety of the court and Parliament were sent invitations as the servants readied the yard and set up a ball floor, hiring entertainment and musicians and artists for all to enjoy. Regulus did not enjoy the gatherings still, but it was better than facing it all on his own. He would give his speech to Parliament, though Mary would be there by his side. When the night arrived, the king and queen wore matching shades of royal green, and descended the stairs that led to the crowded space. Mary herself felt a little on edge, she hadn’t faced this many people in all her time of being queen. The entire courtyard was filled with subjects gazing at them. She found it beautiful, all the faces of all their people. She would like to see them more. 

They led the first dance, Mary whispered reassurance to him the entirety of the night, he did not break his stare from her as the sequence continued. She let him clutch her hand tightly, let him cling to her the same way she did him, and once they had finished the dance, Regulus seemed to have warmed up to the crowd, he’d even kissed her when they cheered. 

“We thank you all for joining us,” he began, holding a glass of champagne. “The arrival of our princess has been most celebratory, and we are grateful that you have made it. Considering my family is quite unoriginal with stealing names from the sky, we have decided to name her Vela, after another constellation just like my own.”

The crowd chuckled, Mary even found Walburga smiling. It was a night for changes, that was certain. “To the princess,” he raised his glass, and the guests did as well. 

The ball continued into the lateness of the night, until Mary was stifling yawns and the partygoers started to file out. Regulus led her back to the palace, though they both stopped short at the sound of scuffling. 

“Is there…”

“Shh.”

The two peered around a large bush, and easily spotted their footman locked in an embrace. Barty and Evan were dancing to the tune that played from the pianist just a few feet away. Mary had suspected, had caught a few of their longing glances. It filled her with a sense of ease that they shared private moments like this, though a deeper sense of devastation that it had to be kept private, a secret. 

She was sure they were not the only ones. Many people did not receive choices in who they married, those two had a certain freedom others did not acquire . 

Mary had wound up lucky, and in love. The other girls her age may not have been so lucky—that was her legacy, she thought. Help girls find real love, give them some sort of control in their own lives and to honour them in the only way society would allow, through parties and titles, and giving them a choice. To marry whoever they wanted; who ever. 

Regulus ushered her back inside, closing their bedroom door firmly behind them. “You knew?”

Mary raised a brow. “You also did not seem surprised.” 

“Yes, well… Barty and Evan were some of my best mates when I was a child. I would have had to be an idiot not to notice.”

Mary made a face, planting her hands onto her waist. “I believe I have an idea for the next legislative.”