Work Text:
Darcy looked around the crowd gathered in the castle courtyard. He had been accustomed to being one of the most important people in one small town, and easily blending into the best society in London, but now he was standing in the center, next to the queen and her family, with all eyes upon them.
The wind whipped the snow around. He was used to colder winters, and so far, the ocean moderated the weather in this kingdom, despite how far north they were.
The bell rang, and people began to disperse. This was an odd tradition, but the people seemed to be attached to it here.
“You can come inside now,” the queen whispered to him.
He obliged. There was an elaborate meal spread out, and he looked around to see who else would be joining them, but it was only immediate family. Just as well. He was starting to get used to the queen’s family, and as odd as they were, it was better than being judged by foreign royalty and diplomats who thought of him as some foreigner barely better than a commoner.
“Mr. Darcy,” the queen’s younger sister said between bites of food. “Do you know any good English Christmas carols?”
It was not a question he had been expecting.
“I know several,” he replied. “But if you’re asking me to perform any, the answer will have to be no.”