Emma pov
It was a characteristically overcast day when the doctor pronounced my ankle well enough to walk on again. To my surprise, Luke was awake by 8 in the morning and decided to actually come down to breakfast. I still couldn't support all of my weight, so I clung to Luke's arm as we walked to the dining hall. Luke chuckled a bit at my struggle, but gladly helped me. The expression on Luke's family's faces were full of confusion and surprise as they saw Luke and I getting along so nicely. The king was missing from his seat at the head of the table; but Queen Elizabeth, Ben, and Jack were present around the grand breakfast.
"It's so good to see you again, dear!" the queen exclaims once she recovers from shock.
"It's good to see you too Your Majesty," I smile genuinely, sitting down next to Luke. He scooted his chair an inch away from me. I furrowed my eyebrows together and tried to ignore the hurt I felt. I thought we were past this, I thought we were friends now. This was a normal occurrence before, but just yesterday his chair was pulled as close as it could be to my spot on the bed, both of us hovering over the chessboard.
"So Lucas, you're actually awake before we have to pry you from your sleeping quarters?" Jack remarks.
"This is why I never get up in the mornings," Luke grumbles. His mood has drastically changed within minutes.
"Boys, no fighting! Let's have a nice family breakfast now that Emma is well again," Queen Liz commands, silencing the rowdy boys. The rest of the meal time was filled with pleasant small talk, but Luke didn't speak a word to me.
Once I was finished, I excused myself, knowing I was behind on writing some letters to home. I more or less limped down the long corridor till I heard a voice call after me.
"Emma! Emma wait!" I turned to see Luke jogging to me then matching my pace.
"Hi," he grins, showing off his bright smile.
"Hey," I reply half heartedly.
"What's wrong," he asks, taking my arm and lending his support when he saw me struggling to walk properly. I accepted his arm, but only because my ankle was starting to hurt.
"Nothing... I just... I thought we were friends," I mumble the last part.
"Of course we are. I don't play chess with just anybody," he winks.
"Luke you moved your chair away from mine the second I sat down and ignored me," I sigh as I open the door to the study and Luke follows me in.
"I'm sorry, Emma. I just... I don't want them to get the wrong idea. If they saw us close, they would assume we were romantically involved and start expecting you to become with child. I don't want to disappoint them again," he explains warily as we walk into the study.
"Oh," I start simply, a bit taken back, "I understand what that's like, to disappoint your family. Everyone wanted me to be a boy when my mother became pregnant and I've been a thorn in their side ever since," I say, sitting at my desk.
"It's too much pressure, being in next ruler of England. Especially because I'm the youngest. There's no one for me to dump the line of succession on like my brothers did to me. I just wish I was normal. Peasants are fortunate. They're free to wear what they please, do what they please, drink as much as they like, have whatever job suits them, be rude to whomever they want, befriend whomever they like..."
"Love whomever they fancy," I add and he nods in agreement.
"Have you... have you ever been in love?" he asks after a moment of comfortable silence.
"I don't know. I thought I was once, but I realize now it was only a childish interpretation of love," I answer.
"What's it like? To be in love with someone?" I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me.
"I haven't the slightest clue, princess," he chuckles. The fond nickname isn't the only thing that surprises me.
"What? You can't tell me the infamous lady's man of England has never been in love! I've seen you win a girl's affections within a minute of meeting her," I tease him.
"Those girls meant nothing. They were just a game to keep me occupied," he sighs.
We say nothing after that. There was nothing more to say about it. Luke changes the topic to something much lighter, something to make us both laugh and I began my tedious letter writing. I wrote the same thing every time; begging to come home, expressing my boredom here, and asking about France. But as I listen to the blonde boy tell me about how his horse threw him off it's back, landing him in the mud yesterday, I start to wonder if I this
place is really so bad anymore.
...
September 14th was the first completely sunny day I've spent in London. It started like any other dreary day. Luke and I emerged from our separate chambers, and the drapes were closed. Luke understands that I don't like to see the grey sky. After our morning meal, I usually sit in the study and read while Luke writes letters for his father. The king's health has been deteriorating lately, and until he gets well again, a great deal of his work falls to Luke. He occasionally looks over my shoulder, reading a bit of a page then asking me what's happening. I promptly suggest he read the book himself and find out, but he declines, reiterating his distaste for fiction books. It was when I looked up that I saw a small sliver of light between the drapes. When I pulled the cloth back to investigate, I was blinded by brilliant sunlight.
"Luke! The sun is out," I exclaim, marveling at the way the light changes the dull landscape into green rolling hills and a cloudless blue sky.
"Can we go outside? I want to get some fresh air without getting drenched in rain!" I ask excitedly.
"You can, Em, but I have far too much work to do," he says, putting a slight frown on my face.
"Take a break! Besides, you could use a little sun, Hemmings. You're looking even paler than usual," I remark. Luke rolls his eyes, but still scoots his chair out and accompanies me outside.
Everything was so vibrant out in the sunlight. The grass was a soft green, the flowers were vivid pastels, and the brooke bubbled with white foamy water. But the biggest difference I noticed was in Luke. His hair was no longer dark blonde, the sunlight transformed it to a golden color. His eyes were a deep, sparkling blue, the way the ocean looks during sunset. He no longer looked quite so pale and I even noticed tiny freckles on his face.
"Enjoying the view princess?" his pink lips form a cocky smirk.
"I don't know, my eyes are still adjusting to the light," I lie, trying to hide my blush. We walked along the gardens, stepping in a mud puddle every now and then. Our conversation varied from the flowers, politics, books, and childhood memories.
"Tell me your worst memory," he requests. We were lying down in the mostly dry grass, eyes closed, and trying to enjoy the sunshine.
"I was five. I wandered into a small cupboard while the governess wasn't looking and I was trapped in there for hours. To this day I still avoid small spaces. What's yours?" I ask.
"One winter when I was eight, I fell through the ice of the pond over that hill," he gestures, "I almost drowned, then I was ill for almost a month afterwards." We talked for almost two more hours. I braided wildflowers into my hair and Luke watched lazily, half asleep on the soft ground. Eventually, we had to go back inside due to the setting sun and the growing pile of work that Luke still had to do.
"I wish the sun would come out more often," I sigh.
"So do I, it's nice seeing you happy," Luke replies. Today, the clear cut lines of our friendship were blurred. There were butterflies in my stomach and my heart beat just a little quicker.
As we turned the corner, I saw a familiar face, one I never expected to see here.
"Michael?"
