Her Majesty

A Crown Unexpected

"Prince Thomas."

My father's regent offered a curt bow, his countenance a somber testament to the inevitable. My father was dying, and no physician's art could stay the hand of fate. He had never been a great father in his reign, ever consumed by the burdens of the crown. I moved with a heavy tread, the prospect of kingship the furthest thing from my thoughts. Yet, before the weight of office claimed him, my father had been the truest companion a young lad could know. I entered his chambers to find my mother kneeling at his bedside, embracing him with a sorrowful tenderness. My younger brother stood nearby, his youthful eyes wide with confusion at the gravity of the scene. Father beckoned me closer with a frail gesture. I took his hand and knelt before him.

"What is it, Father?" A solitary tear traced a path down my cheek.

"My son," he rasped, his voice thin, "I am grieved for the distance that has grown between us. Yet, you have become the good man I always hoped you would be." His breath hitched.

"Father..."

"I am well enough, my son. See to your mother and brother. Be the better king I could never be. Never let the demands of the throne eclipse all else." He fell silent for a moment.

"Father!" I held his hand tighter, a tremor running through me.

"I love you, my son."

Those were his final words. I remained by his side throughout the long night, lost in a maelstrom of what-ifs.

"He would wish you to find peace," Mother murmured, her hands resting gently on my shoulders.

The ceremony for my father's burial was a somber affair, a quiet testament to his life. People from every corner of the kingdom gathered to pay their respects to their departed King.

"What now?" I asked, turning to my mother. She offered a faint, sad smile.

"Now, my love, you take a bride." Her cold hands framed my face.
___

"Lily, we must hasten." I clutched the woven baskets, handing one to Lily. Since the passing of our parents, we had known no true home, relying on the charity of villagers. My memories of them were faint, and Lily was but an infant when they were taken. We rarely spoke of them, our days consumed by the struggle for survival here in the Kingdom of Cobblestone.

"Lily, I shall race you!" Annie called out.

"May I?" Lily asked, her eyes bright with a fleeting joy.

"Yes, but be careful, little one," I cautioned.

"Do not fret, she will be well," Penelope assured me.

Penelope and her family had offered us shelter after we were turned out from our last refuge. Penelope was my dearest friend, and her kin had become my own. I knew Lily was safe in their care while I ventured out with Penelope. Their trust in us was a balm to my weary soul. We made our way to the woods to gather berries for our evening meal. I watched Lily laughing amongst Penelope's sisters, a pang of longing in my heart for parents who could have witnessed such simple joy.

"Arabella, are you alright?" Penelope stood beside me, her brow furrowed with concern.

"I am merely happy to see my sister at play. She deserves such moments," I replied with a small smile. She deserved a life free from hardship, a life I was determined to provide.

"And so do you," Penelope said softly.

She spoke truly. I, too, deserved respite. Yet, a heavy sense of responsibility for Lily weighed upon me, a silent vow made to our departed parents that no harm should ever befall her, that she should never be alone. Our baskets filled, we began our journey back. Along the path, we saw men on horseback, their swords glinting ominously in the fading light as they passed. I tightened my grip on Lily's hand, quickening our pace.