𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑡𝑜𝑛. ʙʀɪᴛɪsʜ ʀᴏʏᴀʟ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ

what's next

* not an update *

hello lovely readers 🤍

first of all I would like to thank all of you that have continued to read and enjoy darlington!

I haven't updated for so so long for lots of reasons that I won't go into now but I wanted to post to ask all of you your opinion on what happens next.

unfortunately i don't think I'll be updating darlington again, I have lost my way with it and have moved on. I do however have another fic idea that is very similar to darlington (i.e. another princess) but also very different.

below is a little snippet from the new story. I'm wondering whether you would prefer me to unpublish darlington and then publish it as the new story or to start afresh (please bare in mind I will not be updating regularly). I have no preference, my only concern is that I don't want it to become confusing but I also think some of you may want to keep darlington?

let me know what you think! thank you for sticking around and let me know what you think about the snippet below 🤍

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april 2015

"In terms of court mourning sir, do you have a preference? Her majesty has said the decision can lie with you..."

He's sat, staring out the window. Eyes flickering as he watches the light pass through. Either he hasn't heard or doesn't want to respond because the silence stretches before them. The grandfather clock in the corner punctures it rhythmically, ticking away. Then the eventual sigh from his wife opposite him rips a hole through it.

"Leo." His name is tiresome on her lips, little enthusiasm, perhaps that's why he doesn't respond again.

She tries again. Firmer now. "Leonardo."

He blinks, slowly, like a cat stretching out in the sunshine. Except, he's not. They're in a office in the depths of Buckingham Palace, the window he's staring out of their only source of light which only depletes the already depressive mood.

Not that one should be excited when discussing death.

But he blinks. Which is more than before. And then turns, head only, to face not necessarily her, but more the area of which the sound came from. He searches a few of their faces before landing on hers and she forces herself to press her lips into a small smile, "Christopher was just asking about court mourning, if you had an idea what you wanted?"

"Well won't I be dead by that point." The statement makes her jaw tense. Teeth grinding. Something in her forehead twitches as she fights to control what would have been her usual response. Instead, she pushes her tongue to the roof of her mouth, slides her jaw around a few times and then once she's over the urge to tell him to pull himself together says, almost too calmly, "yes."

"Well then." He mutters with a flick of his fingers, head turning back to stare out of the window.

Her mouth falls open and she inhales slowly, biting her lip as she stares at him for a moment before turning back to Christopher.

"Full court mourning until the funeral, family in half for a week afterwards, back to colours thereafter."

The slam of a hand against the table startles her. The sound ricochets around the walls as she jumps, looking toward him with alarm, the unnerving sense she had earlier only growing. He's looking at his hand as if it doesn't belong to him. As if the puffing beast of a man that just slammed his hand onto the table wasn't him at all.

She doesn't even manage to say anything before he stands up, wobbling slightly as he rushes out of the room, the door clattering shut behind him.

"I do apologise, please excuse us." The words come so easily now, but she doesn't look at the Private Secretary as she speaks. Just smooths her dress down and stands slowly, taking a deep breath to prepare herself before following him.

It's easy to do. There's the gentle buzz of work everywhere but in one direction where the stomping of one and scattering of others to get out of his path treads heavily on the usual serene palace. She heads down the way he's gone, flashing apologetic half smiles at the staff he's done this in front of. Realising quickly that he's heading outside, she quickens her pace until a deep, long scream of agony stops her in her tracks.

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