Chapter Text
Dearest Gentle Reader,
Whilst this author recognises that her presence in the ton is a recent addition, she would be remiss not to acknowledge the sudden and most untimely death of our late King Miland, known affectionately to those closest to him as Miles. May he rest in peace. The news of his death will surely not be broken by this author, who is most aware of the cloak of mourning that has passed over the city—and indeed the country—in recent days. Despite what you may think, these papers shall not entertain any rumours regarding the manner of his passing. There is assurance he was surrounded by those he considered his dearest and nearest, and that is enough of a comfort.
This author has levelled criticism at parts of royal society in the past, to be sure, but any reasonable heart breaks to think of our young queen now having to bear the responsibility of the crown on her shoulders. After all, she is only six and ten.
Of course, Queen Kathani is to have a regent in her place until she is of age. Whispers have yet to confirm who may undertake such a position. This author has it on good authority that the House of Lords is not allowing the Dowager Queen Mary to perform the duties of regent, given she is not of royal birth, nor did she birth the new child queen.
Lady Agatha Danbury, an esteemed member of the royal court, is a confident prediction for whom the House of Lords may appoint. Lady Danbury is a Dowager Countess, with a long standing alliance to the royal household, allowing her to act as a dedicated regent without distraction. It is widely understood that the Dowager Queen Mary would not be in the same position, given the especially young age of Princess Edwina at only one and ten.
Word has not broken on what the new queen wishes for her regnal name to be, though speculation suggests she may follow in the unconventional footsteps of her father and use her birth name. It is the expectation of the ton that Queen Kathani, or perhaps Queen Kate, is to finish her studies with her private tutor until she is of age in two years.
One can only imagine, given the sparseness of the royal family tree, the Queen will be under some significant pressure from the House of Lords to wed and produce an heir as soon as she is of age.
Long live the Queen.
–Yours truly, Lady Whistledown
“I cannot believe you still read that Kate, you kept it after all this time,” Edwina sighs in disbelief, pulling her older sister out of her trance. Kate shakes herself out of her thoughts, looking away from the now three-year-old society paper. Her eyes focus on her sister, leaning back in her chair as she does, as Edwina makes her way into the room.
“I know Lady Whistledown often talks ill of the palace, but I do not think I can be blamed for finding solace in the kind words she wrote after Papa’s death,” Kate murmurs, putting the paper calmly on the desk.
“She did not write most kindly of Mama,” the younger sister, now four and ten, points out as she steps closer to the desk.
“I concede that, but she has a paper to sell. I have always quietly admired her business acumen, in a world that does not allow women to have such. She did not allow pervasive rumours of father’s death to persist, and for that I shall be forever grateful.”
“Mama wishes to speak with you, I believe Lord Cunningham paid a visit to speak with her and Lady Danbury,” Edwina replies, bouncing on her toes and fiddling with her fingers nervously. She did not wish to talk about their father’s death any longer than she had to. She was one and ten when it happened, kept in the dark about far too much.
“And he did not speak to me?” Kate fires up, voice sharp and seething, standing immediately to begin stalking out of the room.
“I—I think mama insisted!” Edwina somewhat shouts, following Kate’s frantic haste toward the drawing room, struggling to not trip over herself.
“Her Majesty, The Queen,” a footman announces as the door is opened, and Kate is left staring at her mother and Lady Danbury peacefully drinking tea.
“Am I correct in understanding that Lord Cunningham paid a visit to my home, and did not speak with me?” Kate asks, biting and harsh, glancing expectantly between the two women who raised her. She has had enough of not being treated like the sovereign.
“Your Majesty—“
“You are not my regent anymore, Lady Danbury,” Kate retorts angrily, cutting off the countess and affixing her with a glare.
“Kate,” Dowager Queen Mary says softly, resting her cup of tea on the table beside her, “I insisted. I did not want Lord Cunningham to be the person you heard this news from.” Kate shifts her gaze carefully between the women in the room, including her little sister, before turning to the footmen by the walls and the maids by the tea tray.
“You may depart.” After a wordless moment of shuffling for the staff to comply with the queen’s orders, the room is left with only the royal family and Lady Danbury.
“If I may, Your Majesty,” Lady Danbury begins carefully, putting down her tea and giving her queen her full attention. Kate grumbles a curse under her breath and sits on a sofa opposite them. She does not get comfortable. “I am acutely aware of the fact I am not your regent, nor have I been for the better part of a year, but I remain a member of your court. I was providing assistance to your mother, as she received an update regarding the House of Lords current wishes.”
“I know I was unduly given this responsibility as a child, and am most thankful for the time in which you were my regent, Lady Danbury,” Kate replies dutifully, not commenting when Edwina sits quietly beside her. “However, I have been preparing for this my entire life. It is my birthright, and my duty. I may be young for a monarch, only nine and ten, but I am fit to be queen. I am yet to come to an understanding as to why Lord Cunningham did not directly inform me, the queen, of the wishes of the House of Lords,” she rolls on impassionately. She does her best to keep her voice composed, but is unrelenting in her perspective. Her eyes flicker determinedly between Lady Danbury and her mother.
Lady Danbury and Queen Mary share a look of commiseration, Lady Danbury nodding encouragingly to the Dowager Queen. Mary looks to her youngest daughter earnestly, perhaps hoping the fourteen-year-old will be able to support her sister. Edwina, as one of the only two people who does not have to treat Kate like the Queen, shuffles closer towards her. The other person is, obviously, their mother—even if she is technically Kate’s step mother. She’s been in Kate’s life for sixteen years.
“Given you had only just become of age last season, the House of Lords was forgiving of you not finding a match,” Mary says gently, eyes kind, desperate for Kate to understand, “Edwina is only four and ten, the extended family is sparse Kate. The House of Lords desires you to wed and sire an heir, with haste.”
“They must not be serious!” she objects loudly, mouth falling agape in a most unladylike fashion. The gratitude that Kate cleared the room shows across all their faces.
“Heaven forbid anything were to happen to you—“
“They do not care for me, they do not care for their queen, they only have space in their cold hearts to consider the longevity of the crown I wear,” Kate interrupts sharply, an angry frown imprinted on her features.
“All of the ton’s most eligible bachelors will be at the first ball of the season, which I host, in two days. You should become acquainted with them on this occasion,” Lady Danbury says matter of factly. There is a reason she was the regent. Lady Danbury is always goal oriented and focused, sometimes to a fault.
“The House of Lords wishes you to be wed by the end of the season, you need not rush it darling. You will have four months to be courted, if you so desire,” Mary attempts to placate her eldest daughter, who sighs resignedly. Edwina softly takes Kate’s hands in hers, turning to face her with an innocent and hopeful look.
“You can do it, Didi, do not fear. You are the queen.”
“Thank you, Bon,” Kate looks down at her little sister, her voice wavering and strained. She smiles, trying to balance a look of gratitude and reluctance.