Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

They rode for hours at a punishing pace, forcing their horses harder than they’d ever done as the first streaks of daybreak painted the sky in the softest hues of blue and orange. Only the morning before, they’d been in a similar position, riding together at the break of dawn, but the aura surrounding them couldn’t have been more different. Kate had yet to say anything, her body swaying gently along the galloping movement of the horse. Her eyes remained glazed over as she stared forward to the horizon and the wet tracks on her cheeks had already dried, her body and mind too exhausted to even produce any more tears. 

Slowly, as the day started to show its face over the darkened sky, whatever it was that kept Kate’s head and limbs numb started to waste away and an ache started settling in, panic weeding its dirty claws around her until she couldn’t breathe, her stomach rolling in waves of nausea. 

“Stop!” It was the first word out of her since they left the palace behind, her voice husky and dry from the crying and silence. Anthony did not argue as he led their horses into the protective hiding of a cluster of trees. Kate had hopped out before Galahad had halted completely, her entire body spasming as she cast out the yellowish bile that was the only thing left in her stomach.

Anthony stood a few paces away, watching silently while she doubled over, her red-brown-stained hand resting against the bark of a nearby tree. Only when it was clear she was done, he approached, his steps quiet and tentative.  

“We’ll take a moment here.” He said, tugging gently at her arm until she was moving along with him. 

“I can keep going.” 

“We’re stopping to rest for a few minutes.

“I do not need codling, especially from you.” 

“The horses need rest.”

Kate huffed, lowering herself to the floor with her arms crossed in front of her chest. She did need a few minutes to rest. Her entire body ached, her stomach was in knots, her mouth tasted bitter and her head felt dizzy, although she could not tell if it was the lack of food, the cold air on her face or nerves. 

The silence of the woods was nearly maddening, as they set facing each other, only the rustling of dead cold leaves and the chirping of birds surrounding them. 

Kate’s head was filled with memories from the night before. They all seemed hazy and blurred as if they had all happened in a dream, too clear for the sleeping mind but lacking the details provided by the waking world. Yet, the blood caking Kate’s hands, the bottom of her nightdress and Anthony’s shirt and the overwhelming soreness of her body from the long hours or merciless ridding were more than enough proof to convince her it had all actually happened. The castle was attacked. Someone tried to kill her. She had killed two men. Anthony had dragged her away. Harrold was dead. Her father was dead. Her father was dead. So many people were dead. 

Dead. Dead. Dead.

“What of Edwina?” Kate’s voice was just a whisper, too scared to raise it and call attention to their secluded hiding space or maybe to say it out loud and make the entire situation all too real. 

“Edwina?” 

“Yes and Mary.” 

“I did not see them.” Anthony rubbed the back of his sore neck gingerly, moving his head from side to side in order to recover from the tenseness of the hard ride. Kate just stared at him, desperate for more answers, yet unsure how to ask for them. What if they were something she did not want to hear? 

“They weren’t there?” 

“Lady Mary was not there. I did not see any sign of her in the King’s sleeping quarters.” A hopeful little glim lit up in the back of her exhausted, grieving mind. It was a well-known fact in the palace that although her Mama had her own private quarters, which she used to attend to her duties, she’d never actually used them to sleep. And her mother had been working so very hard with all the wedding planning since Friederich had proposed. It was not far-fetched to imagine she might have stayed up longer to speak to some guests or to finish reading some correspondence she did not have the time to attend to during the day. 

She was not there . 

“And Eddie?” 

“I did not go to your sister's quarters to look for her.” He admitted, dropping his hands to his lap. “After I saw your father…” He took a deep breath. “I went straight to your room to look for you.”

“So you did not see her.”

“No.” 

“So she might have escaped.”

“Kate…” 

“She might not have been in her room or she might have….” 

“I do not know, Kate. She might have, but the attackers… You’ve seen it yourself, there were many of them, and they were trained. I do not know…”

“But it’s possible. We must go back.” Kate did not care if she sounded a bit hysterical. Perhaps she was, but she needed to make him understand. Her sister, her Mama, they needed her . They were all she had left. “They might be alive. We have to return.”

“No.” 

“No?” Her eyes went wide as she looked at Anthony’s tired yet resolved face. 

“We’re not going back.” 

“You do not have to come if you do not wish to, but I am going back.” Anthony’s fingers wrapped around her elbow before she could take another step towards her horse, holding her with more force than he’d ever touched her in her life, his eyes hard. 

“Will you stop being so damn stubborn for just a moment and think?” Even in the beginning of their acquaintance, when Kate attempted daily to get rid of him, Anthony had never looked at her with so much frustrated anger in his eyes as he was right at that moment and Kate felt as if someone had just landed a punch to her gut. “You’re acting like a spoiled girl and I know this is not you, so stop it!”

“How dare you…”

“Kathani,” He took hold of her shoulders, forcing her eyes to meet his. “There is a number of people in that palace whose sole job is the protection of the Royal Family. Many of us would give our lives without a moment's pause to make sure your family lives on. We… I would not hesitate to throw myself in front of a blade if it meant you would be saved.” The words sat heavily between them, their eyes held together by some electric energy and it was as if he was pouring a part of his own soul with his words, his usual impassive mask slipping away. They felt like a confession. And then Anthony seemed to get back to his senses, pulling back his hands from her with a shake of his head. “You are the Queen now, Kate. Much more is at stake here than simply your life.” 

“I did not ask for any of this!” Kate was shaking her head desperately, her arms flaying around her uselessly. She did not want this. Of course, she knew she’d be the queen someday, it was what she was preparing for since the moment she came into this world, but not now, not like this. Not hiding amongst trees, running for her life, with only her horse, her sword and the clothes on her back. Not with the murder of her father. Not with the uncertainty that the rest of her family was still alive. “I do not care, I… Eddie and…”

Pathetic tears blurred her vision and, by God, she was so weak. Her world was crumbling beneath her feet and all she could do was cry and shake like a little girl. She couldn’t do it. She was not ready. She needed more time. She could barely hold herself together, how could she care for the well-being of a whole kingdom that depended on her? 

“It is the guards’ duty to make sure your family is secure. At least 8 people have died so one of you would survive. I am sorry your father died, Kate. I truly am. He was a fair King and an excellent man. And I am sorry this burden has befallen you. I know how much you love your sister and mother and I know you must be scared for their safety. I worry for them as well. But your safety is the only thing that matters to me.” His hand reached up as if to touch her face, but it froze mid-air as if he thought better of it, bringing his fingers to rub at his tired face instead. “And, God help me, Kathani, I’ll tie you to a horse and drag you away kicking and screaming if it is what it takes to make sure you are safe.” 

 Despite all the feeling, all the sorrow and worry gnawing at her insides and the harsh sting behind her eyelids, Kate managed to find within herself to let out an annoyed scoff. 

The soft smile on his lips made the effort almost worth it. 

“I hope you do not hate me for this, my lady.” He looked at her, his eyes gentle, protective and tender and something squeezed around Kate’s heart, replacing grief with another sort of breathlessness for just a moment. “But if that is what it takes to assure me of your well-being, go ahead and hate me. Curse my name for the rest of your life if you like, as long as it means you’ll have the rest of your life to do so." 

The silence that threatened to crush them this time was quite different from the one in the beginning. It was heady and tense, but there was a glint in Anthony’s eyes, heavy with promises. This was Anthony. Safe, dependable, trustworthy Anthony. She did not doubt for a moment he would throw himself in the path of a deadly blow for her the same way she did not doubt he would throw her upon the horse by sheer force if necessary and drag her away somewhere she would be safe. He had proved time and again that she was his biggest priority and no harm would come to her as long as he had a say on it. 

And Anthony did not lie to her. He did not sugarcoat or hide things in order to protect her nor did he refrain from calling her out when she was wrong. He believed in her strength and trusted her word. And, by God, the way he looked at her sometimes, as if Kate was the most important thing in the world for him. Not Princess Kathani, nor the Queen, but just her, Kate.

She knew it was wishful thinking. That even if, by any chance, he reciprocated any feelings she might hold for him, at the end of the day, she still was Princess… Well, Queen Kathani Sharma and he was her bodyguard. Anthony was right. Her life was not her own. Her whole existence belonged to her people. There was much more at stake than some rather inconvenient feelings she might or might not have. 

“I cannot just sit in hiding while my kingdom crumbles around me, Anthony.” 

“Nor did I ever suggest you do so.” He finally allowed himself to take a step back when he was convinced she would not bolt the moment he moved. “But I shan’t allow you to throw yourself into an almost certain death trap completely blindsided.” 

Kate dropped herself to the floor with her arms crossed and an irritated huff, partially because she was fully aware he was right. Going back to the castle without any type of knowledge was a death sentence. Someone had been sent to murder her family. Walking back tired and alone was just about all they wanted. She did not even know if her mother and sister were even there. 

“And I suppose you have a plan?”

“Well, right at this moment, my plan consists in finding a safe place where people won’t try to stab you in the back the moment you turn around or sell you to whoever it was that invaded the castle as soon as you set your foot inside the room.” He sighed, dropping down in front of her, running his hand nervously through his hair. “Food and shelter are our first concern. We have no coin and travelling on the main roads could attract too much attention. We need a place with owners loyal to the Crown to stay until we can find out more. Once we manage that, I suppose we try to gather more information about the attack and the aftermath of it in the palace and then we can think of the best course of action.”

“You wouldn’t know a place such as that, would you?” Kate was very much aware that she had grown up very sheltered, despite the fact her parents had always allowed her much more liberties than most girls she’s known in court. Her life revolved around the Lords and Ladies in Court. She had hardly even left the palace walls, and the farther she went was the family’s summer Palace a few times as a girl. Her best friend was her sister. But Anthony was staring intently at his own hands, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip worriedly, a resigned look marring his fine features. 

“I do.”

“Well, then. Where are we going?”

“Home.”  

It was well in the afternoon when they dismounted in the front drive of the beautiful grey mansion, a steward taking the leads from them, studying their dirty, travel-worn appearances with a disgusted frown. They climbed the polished staircases gingerly, their bodies aching from the previous days of long, hard riding on empty stomachs and unfit clothing. Kate took the moment of silence to study Anthony’s face in the sunlight. His hair was a mess and purple bags coloured the space under his eyes. There was a glimmer of pain in them that had nothing to do with the aches and tiredness reverberating from his body. 

How could you know someone so well and not know them at all at the same time? 

In the past two days, they had ridden at a punishing pace, stopping only in secluded uncomfortable areas long enough for the horses to rest. After divulging they were to head to his family’s home in Kent, and that he had not been there since he joined the Guard, Anthony was frustratingly tight-lipped over the whole thing. She had asked him if he wrote to his family often (no), if he had any siblings (yes), if he was born in Kent (yes), if his family was trustworthy enough (yes),  if his family was happy with him with such a prestigious position at the palace or if he was excited to see them after so long. The last two questions went unanswered, like most of the others that did not have monosyllabic responses to them until the moment the exhaustion and hunger started getting stronger than her curiosity and she’d given up on asking. 

She’d get some answers soon enough anyhow. 

Anthony watched the house with looming dread, his eyes taking every single piece of it with each step they took. She saw a hard shudder run through his body as his glance turned to the beautiful flowerbed in front of the house before he quickly looked away, his hands balling into fists. His eyes stayed firmly planted ahead of him the rest of the climb, his face twisted in a determined frown and Kate wondered what kind of welcome should she expect. His family clearly had means, so joining the guard had not been a  way to ensure they would have enough to get by or a way to seek prestige for himself. What had made him leave in the first place? Why had he not returned? Would they even be welcomed?

But Anthony seemed to believe this was a safe place, that no harm would come to them from his family and she trusted him. It was as simple as that. 

She had come to learn, in the past short few days that somehow had seemed the longest she’d ever lived, that she trusted her life to Anthony Bridger’s hands without a moment’s doubt. 

The butler that waited for them at the front of the double entrance doors barely looked at her when he assessed them. The plump little man blanched, staring as if he’d just seen a ghost, his eyes fixed on Anthony as if he could not believe what he was seeing. 

“Humbolt, would you please let Lady Bridgerton know that Anthony is here?” Anthony’s voice sounded firm but his entire body was tense as if he was preparing for battle. The man nodded open-mouthed before leading them inside the house on shaky feet. 

“Lady Bridgerton ?” Kate asked in a hushed whisper, watching as Anthony sighed tiredly, his shoulders hunched in resignation.

“My mother.” He answered. “My father’s… was Viscount Edmund Bridgerton.”   

As soon as they were in the foyer, the short man disappeared down a corridor, leaving only the two of them in the beautifully decorated hall. The place was light and airy, full of long open windows with billowy curtains and tasteful art hanging from the wall. Up ahead a large double staircase led to the house’s second floor. Flowers adorned every vase, every single bouquet fresh, bathing the room in an entrenching floral scent. She tried to imagine young Anthony in this hall. Had he always been this serious, walking slowly, assessing everything around him before acting? Or had he been an excited child, running around with a cheeky smile and dirty shoes? 

Anthony was standing completely still in the middle of the room, his eyes focused on the set of stairs. His posture was stiff and his face was greenish as if he might be sick at any moment. 

“Anthony,” Kate whispered, her voice low and soft as if she was speaking to a scared child as she approached him. His face turned to her when she called out his name and she desperately wanted to say something, anything, that might bring him some comfort, but she didn’t have the right words. She didn’t even know what to expect. Would he be welcomed with open arms? Would he be criticized for returning? Who was he? How could she comfort someone from what she, herself, didn’t understand? 

So she chose a simple gesture, reaching out for his hand and squeezing it just once as if she was trying to say ‘I am here.’ . She did not know how good it would be, or if he’d even understood as he watched her with that same indecipherable expression on his face for a moment, but then the corner of his lips tugged upward, just the tiny bit and he squeezed her hand back before they both let go and she took a step back. She knew he had understood.  

They were still watching each other, their eyes drawn together by that unexplainable magnetism when loud arguing voices rang across the room, coming from down a hallway to the left. Two children barrelled into the room, clearly having a row. 

“You give it back to me right now!” The little girl shrilled to the boy who seemed to be holding a hair ribbon between his fingers, mud covering the entire back of his pants and the front up to his knees.

“I will not! And I will tell Mother you pushed me in the mud.” They were clearly siblings, with the same chestnut hair as Anthony, even if the young girl’s had an orangish glow to it, and the same sharp cheekbones. A few steps from her, all of Anthony’s muscles were pulled taunt, his entire body turned towards the two bickering children, his face contorted in a mix of sorrow and awe. 

“Well, if you weren’t teasing me about the tree I wouldn’t have… Ouch! Why did you stop? Oh…”  The arguing pair had halted in their tracks, staring at them completely surprised. Anthony hadn’t moved, his mouth slightly ajar and glistening eyes. “Who are y…?”

“Will you two stop screaming?” The complaint came from the stairs and the four people in the foyer turned to watch the two young women rushing down. They also shared a strong resemblance with Anthony and the two other kids. Sisters, possibly even twins. They looked young, a couple of years younger than Edwina maybe. Edwina, her baby sister and favourite person. Edwina who she had left behind. Edwina, who could be dead right at that moment… Kate had to bite her lips to choke down the sob that had risen in her throat. She could not cry. She would not. This was not the time or place to break down. The girl in the green day dress, the one doing the shouting, started tugging her sister down with her, both of them clutching books in their hands. “Frannie and I are trying to…” 

“Oh.” The silent sister, Frannie, had stopped halfway down the stairs, her wide blue eyes firmly fixed on Anthony’s figure as if she could not comprehend what she was seeing. “Ant?” 

“ What ?!” A moment of silence followed the girl in green’s squeak of a question in which every face in the room turned back to Anthony’s prone form, standing incredibly still in the middle of the foyer as if moving might somehow end the things happening around him. Then, as if some cord had finally snapped, the two girls dashed down the stairs, their books dropped on the steps as they hurled themselves into Anthony’s waiting embrace. He wrapped one arm around each sister, pulling them close to his chest. He burrowed his face between their heads, his eyes closed, apparently trying to fight the tears that were forming, as he took long deep breaths. The two youngest children were watching the scene with surprised faces, so completely shocked by the outburst happening around them that they seemed to have forgotten all about their previous fighting, the blue ribbon the boy had been holding laying on the floor unnoticed.  

“Let me look at you two.” Anthony’s voice was tremulous and husky as he took a step back, each of his hands still holding onto the girls’ shoulders, looking them up and down with such tenderness and love it made Kate's air leave her chest. She’d never seen him look so gentle and it made his face glow so beautifully that it sent her heart drumming in her chest. “You’re all grown up now, I suppose.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t stay nine forever, would I?” The one in the green dress scoffed, making Anthony laugh loudly as her sister rolled her eyes. Kate watched entranced, amazed by the sound and the way his lit-up face seemed to brighten the entire world around her. 

“I see your tongue is still as sharp as ever, El,” He commented, as the girl named El pulled a bitter face at him. “I thought reaching eighteen would quell that a bit down, but no such luck, I see.” 

“I’m eleven!” The young girl mumbled, her half-braided hair flowing behind her as she took a step closer, clearly not interested in not being part of the conversation any longer.

“I remember, Hy.” He looked fondly at the girl, his eyes bright as she looked a bit surprised he’d know who she was. 

“Well, I don’t really remember you,” Hy said matter-of-factly. El choked back a laugh as Frannie hid her face against her hands with an exasperated sigh. Kate knew Anthony enough to know that even if his voice was soft and he was looking at his sister with kindness all over his face, the twitch of his lips and the stiffness of his shoulders betrayed how much the statement had hurt him. 

“Yes, I don’t suppose you would. You were significantly smaller the last I saw you.” 

“Do you remember me as well?” The boy was bouncing on his feet now, apparently having recognized his older brother. 

“Sorry…” The young boy’s face fell, his eyes instantly filling with tears before Anthony laughed. “You honestly believed I would not remember you, Gregory Bridgerton?” It was adorable how Gregory seemed to regain all his colour in a moment, a sweet boyish smile lightening up his face, so similar to Anthony’s. 

A crash made all faces turn once more as another chestnut-haired girl stood on the doorway to a hallway, a mishmash of broken china by her feet, stunned.

“Hello, Daph,” Anthony mumbled softly, making a choked sob escape the young woman’s parted lips. But apparently, there were more of them, because a voice called out for Daph and in another second a man, so similar to Anthony but with the greenest of eyes stepped out of the room he was sharing with his sisters, his expression going comically wide as he located the source of the entire commotion. 

By God, how many siblings did Anthony have?

“Is that…?

“ANTHONY EDMUND BRIDGERTON!” Kate scrambled closer to the wall as the voice howled from the top of the stairs. When someone called out a full name in that tone the best thing to do was to get out of the way. Anthony grimaced, turning to the fuming woman marching down the stairs. Her hair was lighter than the children staring at her from the foyer, though her face bared a great resemblance to the youngest of the girls. Behind her, climbing down gingerly was another man, tall and lanky and yet again so similar to the others, his chestnut hair combed back carelessly, a spot of blue marking his left cheek.

“Mother.” Although the woman was a good head shorter than her son, at that right moment she seemed larger than life, eyes blazing as she stopped right in front of Anthony, who for his part seemed to have shrunken ten times in the past minute. Kate was amused to see the faint tinge of red tainting his cheekbones as his eyes darted around a little desperately, like a boy who’d just got caught doing something he shouldn’t. 

“Nine years!” Her face was red, her arms gesturing wildly. “You vanished for nine years, not one word, not one letter. I thought you were dead, Anthony! Do you have any idea how miserable I was believing I had lost you as well?!”

“Please, Mother….” But his pleading did not seem to have any effect on the furious Dowager Viscountess.

“And then you show up here, without even a warning after nine years as if nothing has happened?!” She tutted at him, pointing a finger at his chest, which made the grown man, a member of the Royal Guard, a masterful swordsman, shrink further into himself. Kate almost laughed at the sight. “Would it have killed you to write a note in any moment of the past years? Would you have lost your hand for it?” Anthony shot his brother a pleading look for help, but the man with blue paint on his cheek seemed to be finding the whole situation quite amusing, his lips curled into a smirk a few feet behind his mother, giving absolutely no indication that he would join the conversation. “I do hope you have a perfectly good explanation for all of this, Anthony Bridgerton because so help me God…. Is this blood?” 

The angry spell seemed to have been broken as the woman stared, horrified at her son’s bloody shirt, taking in the sword strapped to his waist.

“It’s… not mine.” Anthony tugged on his hair nervously as his mother’s eyes went huge, her eyebrows shooting up. 

“Not yo… Whose blood is this, Anthony ?!” Lady Bridgerton’s voice was shrill as tugged on her son’s sleeve, examining the dried-up blood staining Anthony’s white shirt brown in shapeless patterns with shaky hands. 

“I…”

“So you are Anthony, but who is she ?” All heads spun towards the direction the youngest Bridgerton seemed to be pointing and Kate, who was quietly enjoying her invisibility as she watched Anthony reunite with his family, felt every single pair of eyes in the room turn to her, most of them noticing her presence for the very first time. Instantly her posture stiffened, assuming the regal stance that was almost a reflex to her at this point in her life. Anthony cleared his throat, taking a step away from his mother and in her direction and right at that instant she knew the short-lived normalcy of the moment was about to vanish for good. They would know who she was and what had happened and she would have to be forced to face the reality she had been so thoroughly avoiding for the past hour.

“Mother, may I introduce you to Her Royal Highness, Princess Kathani Sharma.” Relief flooded her body, overcoming for a second the fear, the sorrow and the exhaustion, when Anthony did not introduce her as the Queen the way propriety rules would have dictated. She did not know if she would have been able to stand that just at that moment and she most certainly did not want to break down in tears in front of Anthony’s family.

The silence that followed was deafening as people stared with different levels of disbelief, some watching her with awe, others with gaping shock. Across from the room, she saw Anthony mouth ‘ I’m sorry .’ to her. She squinted her eyes at him, wondering what exactly was he sorry for.

“I’m sorry, introduce WHO ?!” El’s loud question seemed to break people of their quiet stupor as the Bridgerton siblings started talking over each other, asking all sorts of different questions, their levels of enthusiasm growing with their loud voices until Lady Bridgerton cleared her throat loud enough to send all of her children into a startled silence once again. 

“Your Highness.” The woman said, curtsying to Kate, her head bowing to the floor, the others in the room swiftly following her lead. 

“Your Highness, allow me to introduce to you my mother, the Dowager Viscountess Violet Bridgerton, and my siblings. Benedict,” He pointed at the tall man with paint on his face. “Colin.” The green-eyed man. “Daphne.” The young woman with broken china scattered around her feet. “Eloise.” The sharp-tongued girl in the green dress. “Francesca.” The sweet one with blue eyes. “Gregory.” The darling boy with the loving smile. “And Hyacinth.” The girl with half-braided hair.

“It is my pleasure.” Kate looked at the faces watching her, her stomach turning into knots in a way it hadn’t done for years. “I’m very thankful that you’d receive me into your home with such short notice, I wish the circumstances were better .” Her last words choked on her throat as she tried and, judging by how Anthony looked at her, failed to bring her polite, practised smile to her lips. 

“You better start explaining yourself right this instant, mister.” Violet Bridgerton hissed in a whispered tone Kate was pretty certain she was not supposed to have overheard, grabbing her son’s arm. 

“I promise I will explain everything .” He grabbed his mother’s hand in his dirty ones in a reassuring gesture, his fingers squeezing hers. “But we’ve been riding for two days straight. Perhaps some water to clean up and fresh clothes…” He trailed off, looking down at his thorn, bloody shirt and then to Kate, the hem of her sleep gown a mix of dried blood and mud. 

“I shall have Mrs. Wilson draw baths and find fresh clothes. Benedict’s should fit you.” She patted Anthony’s hand, assuming the methodical hostess air that seemed so natural to her. “I’m sure something of mine or Daphne’s should fit her Highness, even if it might be a bit short.” She turned to the housekeeper that seemed to have materialised out of thin air next to her, nodding the Dowager's instructions. “Have my things moved to the blue room, the one I used to…” Kate opened her mouth to protest but the tallest of Anthony’s brothers beat her to it.

“Nonsense mother. The Viscount’s chambers would be the obvious choice. I’ll have my valet–”

“Benedict, please…”

“It would only be proper.”

“No.” Kate’s voice carried over the conversation, mother and son turning to stare at her agape. Over his mother’s shoulder, she could see Anthony’s eyes on her, the smirk on his lips showing he was expecting her to do something like it. On a regular occurrence, she would not have said a thing. But she had just arrived unexpectedly, putting every single one of these people in danger should she be discovered. She would not allow them to uproot their lives for her any more than that. She took a step forward, taking the Dowager’s hand in hers, the woman apparently shocked beyond words. “Lady Bridgerton, I am most grateful for your welcome without any notice and in such a delicate moment. I will not impose on having anyone moved from their rooms for me.” 

“But, Your Highness…” Violet stammered, her eyes shifting from Kate’s face to her hands. 

“Any room with a bed will do. I am not especially picky. Fresh clothes and a bath would be most welcome.” Kate frowned a bit, her stomach growing loudly. “Perhaps something to eat as well.” 

“Your Highness, it’s our most–” The tallest brother began, but Kate wouldn’t have it.

“I shall not accept it.” She stood her ground, her head held high. 

“But…”

“It’s no use arguing with her, Benedict.” Anthony quipped. “She’d probably sleep out on the floor out of pure spite.” All eyes in the room stared at him as if he’d gone raving mad. “You’ll find that Her Highness is almost as stubborn as I am.”

 “How dare you?” She gasped and then all surprised stares turned at her, their eyes wide at the exchange. “ Almost ?!”

“If you were as stubborn, you’d have gotten rid of me two years ago.” He explained easily. She huffed, crossing her arms.

“I suppose…” She did not appreciate defeat, her nose wrinkling in distaste. Around them, the rest of the family was watching the exchange in complete bewilderment. “But I did allow you to stay.” 

“You may keep telling yourself that, Majesty.” He said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “If it makes you feel better about it.”

The servants in Aubrey Hall seemed to be as fast as the ones in the palace because soon enough the housekeeper was back, whispering hushedly in Lady Bridgerton's ear and they were being ushered to the Family quarters, where the rooms were currently being finished. 

“I shall have my valet clear the Viscount room for you, then,” Benedict commented, falling into step with Anthony, who was walking just behind Kate. 

“No need.” Anthony huffed in his usual gruff impatience. “I’ll take any room available, it will be no bother.” 

“But they are your rooms.” 

“No. They are the Viscount rooms.”

“Yes and…” Anthony cut him with a glare that could freeze the sun. 

“ You are the Viscount.”  

“Well, brother, last I heard it was the eldest who inherited the title.” Benedict seemed to be taking great pleasure in the exchange and at Anthony every time grumpier frown. “And since you are very clearly alive and well…” 

“I do not want the rooms, Benedict. Just keep them.” 

“Well, I did not want them either.”

“You may do as you please with your rooms. Just know that if you do vacate them, I shall sleep in the stables.” Benedict rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in surrender before moving to walk a few steps behind them, huffing to Lady Violet. 

“Mother, it is like no time has passed at all.” 

Kate slowed her step until they walked side-to-side, taking the place vacated by his brother. 

“I’m sorry in advance for whatever ridiculous antics my family might come up with during our stay,” Anthony warned, but that little teasing twist adorned the side of his lips.  

“It’s no consequence. They are being very kind to host me in such troubled times.”

“Still, they might be… A lot .” 

“You do have many siblings.” Anthony merely raised his eyebrows at her. “Are you alphabetically ordered?”

“Yes.” He answered with a sigh, Kate’s lips pressed to a thin line as she tried to control the ridiculous urge to laugh at the information, which would be rather rude of her, considering the person who named them was just a couple of steps back and most probably paying close attention to every word they said. “From A to H in order of birth.”

“It’s very… orderly.” He shook his head at her quip as exhaustion seemed to hinder her mind from any sort of control, her lips curling up. “It must be quite easy to remember who is who this way, Lord Bridgerton .” He groaned with a roll of his eyes. “I see how you came to be so methodical, my Lord .” 

“Oh, do shut up.” The loud gasp behind them halted their steps as they turned to look at Lady Violet’s shocked face. 

“ Anthony !” She cried, looking horrified at her eldest son, apparently unashamed to be listening to the conversation. 

“Oh, please forgive me.” Anthony rolled his eyes with a glint of mischief behind them. “Do shut up, Your Royal Highness.” 

“Anthony Bridgerton, you do not tell a lady to shut up !” 

“It’s of no use, Mother,” Anthony lamented a bit dramatically. “It’s not as if she’d actually listen anyhow.” 

“Of course, I listen!” Kate replied, feeling the familiar feeling of bickering with Anthony soothe the heavy burden of her soul a bit. “I just usually choose to ignore most of it.” 

Anthony’s oldest younger brother let out a gawrf of laughter and the Viscountess seemed ready to faint at the spot with her children’s poor manners.

Two servants bowed deeply when they arrived at a couple of half-opened doors, before rushing away, dust fans and heavy sets of blankets bundled in their arms. 

“I hope those chambers are acceptable, your Highness.” 

“I’m sure they will be, Lady Bridgerton.”

“I still believe I should… Anthony!” The older woman’s light eyes grew as big as saucers, her hands resting over her heart, as her son pushed the door open, stepping inside without any invitation. A young maid squeaked, dropping the empty copper bassin she had been carrying in her freight. “I am so sorry, Your Highness, I do not know…”

“Oh, please, Lady Bridgerton, it is alright.” She assured the woman gently, as the Doweger’s hand gripped her second son’s arm. “It is all but protocol really.” 

Kate had always considered the Royal protocols rather pointless, just old traditions that people still insisted on enforcing. She had many times teased Anthony about him checking for monsters under her bed before she would retire for the day. But now that the monsters had come, she felt a strange sort of relief on knowing that Anthony was there to ensure it was all safe. 

“Protocol?” Violet blinked nervously, her eyes still following her son’s progress inside the room as he went from the wardrobe to the window, checking the locks. 

“I do not consider your house to be unsafe.” She assured hurriedly. “But protocol dictates any new room must be…” Kate’s words trailed away when Anthony returned to the door, silently nodding his head, motioning for her to enter. “I really am most thankful for your kind hospitality, Lady Bridgerton.” 

“It is our pleasure, your Highness.” 

“Could you please send a lady’s maid to aid Her Highness, mother? Preferably someone you trust to…” 

“I trust my staff, Anthony.” Lady Bridgerton cut his words before he could finish them, sending a tinge of red to the tip of his ears. “All my maids come with good recommendations and references. I would not bring just anyone near your sisters.”

“Of course, mother. Forgive me.”

“I’m sure Daphne could spare Rose for a night,” Benedict suggested to which Lady Bridgerton nodded.

“Yes, it’s an excellent choice. I’ll have her up in a moment, your Highness. Please do not hesitate to ring if there is anything else you need.”  

“I will, Lady Bridgerton, thank you.”

“Lock the door, only open it when the maid knocks,” Anthony instructed with a curt nod. “And keep the windows shut and the blinds closed.” 

“Yes, Sir Bridger.” She said in a mock salute, tossing her mess of a hair behind her shoulders. “I mean, Lord Bridgerton .” 

“You’ll never leave this alone, will you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I will be back in a few to check on you.” And with that, he turned on his heels, beginning to march to where his mother and brother were watching the exchange with surprised faces. 

“Take a bath, you smell!” She called out loudly, to which he replied with a wave of his hand without turning to look at her. 

“You as well, your Highness.” 

Kate chuckled, watching for a moment as Lady Bridgerton began to berate Anthony in hushed whispers, her face three different shades of red and Benedict watched it with an amused grin that was the speciality of little siblings delighted in seeing their big siblings get called out. 

She walked into the spacious room, shutting the door behind her and turning the key as Anthony had instructed him. The bedchamber was dark and warm, the fire cracking in the fireplace, drowning the surrounding in a cosy orange glow and only a seep of outside light escaped the heavily shut curtains. 

Princess, or rather, Queen Kathani Sharma shed her cold and dirty travelling cloak and walked gingerly to the bed, sitting at the foot of it with a heavy, weary groan, pulling her talwar from her back and resting the covered blade on her lap. There was not a part of her body that did not ache. Her stomach twisted inside of her, making loud, demanding sounds. Her hands and feet were frozen, the bottom of her nails turning purple from the prolonged exposure to the chilly end-of-winter air. Her feet ached desperately inside of her boots. If she looked anything as close as she felt, she did not even want to imagine the state of her face or hair. The last thing she felt was regal. She felt like a child, tired and scared after a bad, bad dream. 

And sitting there, in the darkness of the room, allowing the heat from the grit to slowly warm her cold body, Kate Sharma allowed herself to cry.     

True to his word, Anthony had returned a little bit more than an hour later, clean-shaven and freshened up, wearing a pair of trousers and a shirt that was a bit too long on the hem and cuffs and too tight on the shoulders. He waited by the door until Kate made a waving motion with her hand for him to join her. 

Kate had not realised how exhausted she’d truly been until the adrenaline and fear stopped pumping through her veins and the tears had begun falling down her dirty, cold cheeks. She had been still crying when the maid knocked on the door but Lady Bridgerton was right. Her staff was reliable and the young woman did not usher a word about the wet trails in her cheek, the sorry state of Kate’s hair or the nightclothes completely rotten by blood and mud she was wearing. 

Rose just tugged on her filthy boots and helped her out of her clothes and into a steamy coppery tub before proceeding to slowly scrape away the last two days of road dirt from Kate’s body, working meticulously in the knotted strands of her hair with gentle fingers and massaging her scalp with a flowery-smelling oil. After a long, good scrub, the maid dried her and bundled her into a day dress that was a tad too short and too tight around the hips, but the fabric was warm and comfortable. She sat Kate down near the fire, rubbing some salve on her blistered feet before proceeding to finish the work she had begun in the bath with the wet curls, combing and drying them while they dried on the heat of the fireplace. Somewhere along this, her tears had stopped, leaving behind only hollowness and dread.  

And that’s where Kate had stayed, staring quietly into the dancing orange flames without actually seeing them until Anthony came knocking. 

He dismissed Rose with a little wave and a couple of words she could not catch and then stood next to the comfortable armchairs by the fire, still on his feet with his soldier-like posture straight as ever. 

“Have a seat.” He opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off with a flick of her wrist. “Just sit, Anthony.” 

A thousand different questions seemed to flicker through Anthony’s mind as he lowered himself to the chair next to hers, his eyes sorely focused on her slightly curled-up form, but in the end, he didn’t ask them.

“I’ve had the kitchen prepare a tray up for your dinner. It should be here shortly.” He told her, quietly. “It’s been a long couple of days, Mother and Benedict understand.” 

“No, I must…”

“You must rest.” There was a pause as the universe seemed to hold its breath to see which one of them would be the first to back down. But in the end, Kate just nodded wearily. He was right. She really needed the rest. She was so tired she would most certainly do someone embarrassing like actually fall asleep halfway through the second course. She wasn’t even sure she was strong enough to lift herself from the chair at that moment. 

“Alright.” There was a very long period of silence in which both of them sat in the armchairs as Kate watched the fire and Anthony watched her. “I do not hate you, you know?”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“I know you were right, it is just that…” the words choked in her throat, her eyes burning with the salty feel of unshed tears. “If Edwina and Mama are… if they did not…” Dead. Killed. Dead. Dead. Dead . She was pathetic. How could she rule a nation that’d look up to her for guidance if she could not even bring herself to say a couple of words without bursting into tears like a small scared child? “It means I’m truly and completely alone .”

Kate tried to keep her gaze fixed on the fire roaring in front of her, to hide how much the truth of the words hurt her, to hide the tears threatening to spill, but Anthony would have none of that. With of swift, graceful move, he was kneeling down in front of her, his elbow resting on his raised knee, clutching something tightly to his hand. His body was close enough that she couldn’t help but turn her eyes to him, but not enough that they were touching. 

“Kate, please… You are not alone. You can never be. You have me. You’ll always have me.” There was so much pure and unbidden honesty in his voice and in the way he looked at her, that it sent another wave of burning behind her eyelids, her heart pounding against her ribcage a little desperately. “I do not care for the circumstances. As long as there is a breath left in me, it is yours. Whatever I have, whatever I am, I pledge to you. ”

And there it was again, the way his gaze would burn into hers as if she was the only thing in the world worth looking at. The way he saw her, all of her, beyond all title and position, and what he found was worth it. The orange light sent shadows flicking on his face, making him even more unfairly handsome as he looked at her with his deep, lovely brown eyes. 

He shifted the object in his hand to her and finally, Kate could see what it was. Her dagger, the one she usually hid between the folds of her mattress. The one he had gently removed from her hand as they hid together in the horse bays, listening to the brutal sounds that came from the stables. The one that saved her life. The one she had used to kill her assailants. God, those words again. Kill, dead, death, die. Kill. Kill. Kill .  

The hilt was extended her way, as Anthony held onto the blade in offering, the intricate patterns carved delicately into the silver thrust her way. Kate wrapped her hand around the dagger but he did not let go, nor his eyes drifted from her as their hands connected through the metal as a sealed promise. 

“I will do anything in my power to find out what happened in the castle and you have my word we’ll figure out a way to fix things and if they are there, we’ll get them back.” He spoke, no space for questioning left in his tone. “You have my word. But no matter the content of the information we find, you shall never be alone.”

“I’ll have you.” 

“You’ll have me.” 

Kate could not tell how long they sat there with only the sound of the sizzling of the fire, both of them holding onto opposite sides of her dagger, unable to look away from one another. 

And then a knock came on the door and Kate jumped. Anthony let go of the blade quickly, rising from his kneeling position in a flash. His face was guarded, whatever it was that they had just shared hidden back under his carefully constructed stoic mask. 

“Keep it with you under the pillows.” He instructed, staring not at her but at the glimmering object still clutched in her hand. 

“I will.” 

“Try to rest. And if you need me, just call out and I’ll come.” He waited until she nodded her agreement, the words choked on the back of her throat, before he turned, marching towards the door. 

“Anthony?” He stopped instantly, looking back at her with concerned eyes. 

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” She was afraid he would not hear her, the whisper just low enough that she could barely hear it herself. But his lips curled just the tiniest bit in their corners and his eyes softened. 

“My Queen.” He bowed deeply before yanking on the door and stepping out of the room without another glance. 

Kate woke up with a start, her breathing laboured, her borrowed nightgown drenched in sweat, her hand curled around the hilt of her dagger in panic. She sat up in the comfortable bed, scanning the darkness for any of the dangers her mind had conjured up before allowing her shoulders to sag when she realised it had all been a dream. A very bad one, but a dream nonetheless.

There were no men tugging on her arms with gleaming metal in their hands and violence in their eyes. There was no red blood flowing from a body on the floor. There were no screams that were so similar to her sister’s and turned her blood into ice inside her veins. 

No, Kate was in a guest bedroom in Anthony’s family home. She had blacked out as soon as she had finished eating, barely allowing the gentle maid enough time to help her change into a nightdress and into the warm covers. Now she couldn’t really tell how much time she had slept, only that it was darker, the blazes in the grit softer than they had been when she closed her eyes, the entire house quiet as it ought to be in the middle of the night.  

She slipped from the bed soundlessly, dragging the comforter around with her, the cold floor sending shivers up her body through her bare feet. Her heart was still pounding mercilessly against her chest, her hands trembling so bad it was a wonder she had not dropped the blade at all. 

Anthony. She needed Anthony. She needed him to come and assure her there was nothing lurking in the shifting shadows out there to get her. 

But as she approached the door, she noticed a small flicker of light coming from the outside, disturbed by a shadowy shape amongst it as if someone was sitting by a candle outside her door. 

“Anthony?” She called out, sitting down on the cold floor and pressing her ear to the wood. “Anthony?”

“Is everything alright?” She sighed at the sound of his voice, husky with sleep as he answered and she could see him shift over the light. 

“I’ve had a nightmare.” It took a moment before he replied.

“Yes, so did I.” 

“So you decided to sit by my door?” 

“Yes.” 

“Will you stay there?” Another beat of silence before his answer.

“Yes.”

“Good. I feel safe when you are close.” She yawned into her hand, resting her forehead against the cold panel. She barely had memory of thinking it, the words just escaping her lips as a confession. “I know you’ll always protect me.” Another yawn. 

“Close your eyes, Kate.” He whispered from the other side. “I’ll watch over you.” She did not need to be told twice, her eyes drifting shut at their own accords as she tugged the blanket tightly around her. “Good night, my Queen.” 

She wanted to open her mouth to reply, to wish him a pleasant rest, but her body did not obey her, the tides of sleep were already dragging her under, pulling her into the darkness of slumber. 

The last sound she remembers hearing was soft deep breathing coming from the crack under the door. 

No nightmares plagued her this time. Not with him there to keep them at bay.