Rule of The Monarch

Eighteen: One Month Later

3 November

Astor Hemingway,

You absolute lunatic. You horrible, horrible man. Thank you for the kind birthday letter. I hated it. Absolutely revolted by it. You made me cry at my luncheon yesterday. I'll kill you for that you know. You're not missing next year's so I can promptly return the favor. Anyways, attached is Evelynn's official invitation to her coronation ball. A bit late, considering she was crowned a month ago today, but Lucius insists on honoring tradition and having it on the ninth. Thanks for agreeing to help with the preparations, although why my mother needs to start a week before is beyond me. The palace is so heavily staffed, I wouldn't be surprised if they could have it all done in a day. Less in fact. I'll meet you tomorrow before we head to the train station. And November is chilly so please dress accordingly. NOT in your ridiculously thin coat. I don't care how good it looks, Astor. You aren't catching a cold, traveling with me. Thank you again for the letter. I appreciate it, truly.

Catch you later,

HC

•••

'ASTOR!' Heather pounded on his door, taking little notice of the grumbling pedestrians around her. 'Astor James Hemingway get your arse out here right now!' She knocked again, garnering more disgusted looks from the throng of people passing by 'So help me, I will kick this door down! You have until the count of three. One. Two,'

'Honestly Heather?' Astor opened the door, rubbing his tired eyes. 'Why are you waking up half the kingdom at,' he looked at the grandfather clock in his house. 'Five in the morning?' Their ears perked up at the sound of a wailing baby.

'Good morning your majesty,' she rolled her eyes and let herself in. 'Why are you still sleeping? We have a train to catch and royalty to visit, or have you forgotten again?'

'Isn't that in two hours?' He stifled a yawn.

'The train leaves in two hours, yes,' she picked up the clothes littered around his flat. 'We still have to pick up our formal attire at Alya's and squeeze in breakfast. That takes up at least an hour. With the morning traffic, we'd be lucky to catch the train at all,' she dropped the laundry in one corner. 'Get dressed,' she shooed him. 'And for heaven's sake, take a shower.'

•••

'Late,' Lady Carlton commented as Heather sat in front of the dressing table.

'Fashionably I hope. Astor was running late again. Couldn't leave the hotel fast enough.'

'You seem fond of the boy. Are you still living together?'

'No, he's bought his own place five minutes away from mine. A house though, not a flat.'

'You're being quite the local hero aren't you?' Lady Carlton tugged a brush through her hair. 'The press has been all over you, solving your uncle's murder. Are you ever going to show the world who Heather Carlton is? They're quite desperate for a picture, girls from all over the kingdom lining up as 'the impossible sleuth.''

'Impossible sleuth? What sort of name is that? Am I some con man then? Is that who they think I am?'

'Not at all. They think you're a hero. Proof of a woman doing a man's job,' she sighed. 'But Mr. Hemingway's name is more prominent of course.'

'Of course.'

'There,' she fastened the final pin. 'Isn't that nice? If your hair were longer, I could have it done like Evelynn's.'

'Short hair is more practical. Easier to maintain and there's only one way to pin it up.' Heather said dismissively. 'I suppose they'll want a picture of me here then? At my sister's coronation of all things.'

'They're the press dear, not your friends.'

'Right,' she stared at her reflection for a moment. 'How's this?' She took off her glasses. 'Disguise is a much better element than surprise don't you think?'

•••

'Long live the queen!'

Heather and Astor beamed as they stood with their family in the balcony above. The Carlton-Hemingway rivalry was indeed, finally over. Six weeks ago, their monarch stood on bloodshed, betrayal and murder. Now it was reborn. Under peace between two foes who were never enemies at all.

They both watched proudly as Evelynn proceeded through the crowd of citizens, asking questions about the littlest things and shaking hands with the children.

Tomorrow, they would worry about Christopher, about the king and Lady Isabelle and about the truth. Today they would revel in peace with their worries placed in another world away.

A/N

I can't believe it's over. That's it— it's the end. What a crazy few months it's been.

Before you go, I just want to thank all readers for giving this book a chance. Whether you're a voter, a commenter or another silent reader, thanks for reading this far. Just a few people I want to thank especially. Without which this would still remain an unfinished project.

@eccentric_evelynn

@Astro_20bts

@tallytick

@TheBoredBaguette

I wish all of you a much better day than before. Thank you again.

That's it. It's the end.

Goodbye.