solstice [k.mikaelson 1]

vii.

The weight of her crown felt heavier than ever as Margaret sat at her vanity, staring at her reflection. The ornate mirror, gilded and framed with flowers, no longer held the promise of beauty and joy; instead, it revealed a young woman suffocating under the expectations of her royal duties. 

Edward had been right about one thing: she was now a queen, but not in the way she had once envisioned. The glittering gown she wore felt more like a prison than a symbol of her status. The vibrant hues of gold and blue seemed to mock her as they clung to her skin, a constant reminder of the life she had given up.

Margaret's thoughts wandered to Kol, a fleeting specter of happiness in her otherwise dismal existence. The memories of their laughter in the moonlight and whispered secrets ignited a longing deep within her. She could almost hear the soft timbre of his voice calling her Maggie, a name that had once felt like a warm embrace, now a bittersweet reminder of what might have been. 

Kol had opened her eyes to a world of possibilities, a world where love and freedom existed beyond the confines of courtly obligations. But that world felt impossibly far away now, swallowed by the harsh reality of her marriage to Edward.

Her heart ached as she thought of the man she was bound to. Edward was charming in public, always the dutiful prince, but behind closed doors, he was a different man. He wore the mask of nobility but wielded his power like a weapon, and Margaret was often its target. 

Each day, she was forced to smile through the pain, hiding the cracks in her spirit from the prying eyes of the court. The moments of joy she had once savored now felt tainted, overshadowed by the disillusionment that had seeped into every corner of her life.

"Margaret," Edward called from the other room, his voice breaking through her reverie. She straightened, forcing herself to slip into the role she had been cast in.

"Yes, Edward?" she replied, her tone practiced but lacking the warmth she once felt.

"Come here, my dear," he said, his voice laced with a commanding undertone that sent a shiver down her spine.

With a heavy heart, Margaret rose from her seat, every step feeling like a surrender. As she walked toward him, she couldn't shake the feeling that each day was a surrender of her soul. How long could she continue this charade? How long could she pretend that she belonged to Edward, when her heart still beat for another?

When she entered the room, Edward was standing by the window, staring out into the distance. "We need to discuss our plans for the upcoming council meeting," he said, his back turned to her. "You will need to present a united front. Our people are counting on us."

Margaret nodded, though the words felt like a weight pressing down on her chest. "Of course," she replied, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "What would you like me to say?"

As he turned to face her, Margaret caught a glimpse of his calculating expression. She felt a familiar flutter of anxiety as he stepped closer, and she instinctively recoiled. "You must show strength, Margaret," he said, his tone almost patronizing. "Remember, you are no longer just a girl with dreams. You are my queen now."

In that moment, the warmth of Kol's memory flooded her mind, and she longed for the freedom of those days—the days before she was trapped in a gilded cage. She could almost hear Kol's laughter echoing in her ears, feel the brush of his fingers against her skin, but as quickly as the thought came, it was overshadowed by the suffocating reality of her life.

"I will do what I must," Margaret replied, her voice steadier than she felt. "For our people."

Edward studied her for a moment, his expression inscrutable. "Good," he said finally, stepping back to return to the view outside. "You're learning."