Chapter Text
8.05.1985
“Wake up Mummy. Enough sleep. Waaaaake up”.
It was not even past 4.a.m. as Muriel began to fuss. At first it was only soft whining, but then the three-year old began clumsily to grab the left sleeve of Michael’s pajama.
She even began to slobber on it.
If Michael had been awake and witnessed that, she surely would’ve had a nervous breakdown.
There were just too many bacteria involved.
But luckily for Michael, and much to little Muriel’s disappointment, the tall woman stayed very much asleep.
Little Muriel was known to be a stubborn child and not particularly impressed by Michael’s displeased muttering as the grown woman turned to her side.
“Wakeee up Mummy”, with that Muriel jumped right at the poor sleeping brunette.
“Muriel, please go to sleep again”, still half asleep Michael patted at the left side of her bed,”Let Michael sleep. She needs rest. Go back to your own bed”.
“Enough sleep. We get up”, the child threw herself again at Michael . Michael groaned. The little elbow had hit her nose.
With the resignation of a condemned woman, Michael pushed back the blanket and slowly sat up. The world around her spun more than a bit.
The little girl beside her squeaked delighted at the sight of her mother getting up, immediately trying to climb into Michael’s lap. Michael looked faintly irritated as the child attempted to settle comfortably in her lap.
Using the tips of her fingers as though handling hazardous material, Michael lifted the kid and placed her back onto the mattress.
“My apologies, but I need another moment.”
It was just then that Michael looked down at her pajama sleeve. She raised her eyebrows as she looked accusingly at Muriel,”Why is it wet?”
The little girl just giggled delighted, looking very pleased with herself.
With visible disgust, Michael began unbuttoning her pajama top. She certainly wasn’t wearing that again.
The blouse was going directly into the garbage.
Michael hauled herself out of bed with considerable effort.
She glanced at the face of her watch.
4:30.
Normally she woke up at this hour anyway. But normally she also wasn’t awake until two in the morning arguing with a three-year-old about the importance of separate bedrooms and personal space.
An argument, she clearly lost at the end. Muriel had simply crawled in Michael’s bed when the woman was already sleeping.
Tiredly, Michael reached for the yellow pill organizer she had prepared the night before. Carefully, she unscrewed the lid.
A dozen colorful pills landed in her palm, before swallowing them.
What a wonderful start to the day.
**
It was 6 o clock when Micheal and Muriel sat fully dressed at the long table in the dining room.
Michael wondered why little children were so opposed to the concept of trousers.
When the conflict had first emerged, Michael had actually made a pros and cons list in an attempt to understand the hostility toward trousers.
Just to make sure there was no major point she was missing.
It was just when both her brothers had reassured her, it was just defiant toddler behavior that she had instructed the nanny to deal with the situation and do whatever was necessary to get the trousers onto them.
Michael looked over the end of her newspaper, as she heard someone, probably her brother pulling back a chair.
It was indeed her brother who had taken a seat next to Muriel, chatting with the little one. Muriel giggled loudly as her uncle joked with her. She was a joyful child adored by everyone.
And currently she was sticking her hand in Gabriels hot chocolate, amusing her brother.
Michael folded the newspaper. “Muriel would you please, take your fingers out of your uncles cup and eat your fruits ?”
“No! Chocolate! Hot chocolate,” Muriel pounded on the table.
“Chocolate is unhealthy. Please eat your fruits and take your hands out of the cup.”
“Chocolates like Unc Gabi”, Muriel shouted and smeared the chocolate on her hand in her face, making her brother laugh.
“Let the kid have her hot chocolate”, said Gabriel, siding with Muriel.
Why did he always have to sabotage her?
“You’re not going to get chocolate for breakfast Muriel. There is a reason why your Uncle’s doctor is always unhappy with his blood test results. Good nutrition is important for your health. I’m certainly not going to let you get diabetes. Or do you want to inject insulin yourself every morning?”
”Michael, don’t you think you’re overreacting? It’s just a hot chocolate”, Gabriel asked, sipping his cocoa,”Besides she is three. Do you think that is a reasonable age to explain diabetes to her?”
“Why shouldn’t it be?”, Michael stared blankly at her brother.
“Maybe you should let me take care of Muriel. You’re just not a born mom”, Gabriel began, but was interrupted by Michael.
“We are fine, thanks”.
“I want chocolate!”, Muriel shouted, grabbing a handful of her porridge and threw it at Michael.
“Muriel!”
Gabriel tried very hard not to laugh, staring strained at his empty plate, focused on maintaining a neutral face. Michael stared at the little girl in utter disbelief.
She could feel the slimy mass slowly dripping down her forehead. The hairs on the back of Michael’s neck stood up. It was a sensory nightmare for the brunette.
Visibly struggling to maintain her composure, Michael cleared her throat several times. When even that failed to calm her down, Michael stood abruptly. Her chair scraped harshly across the floor.
She threw her cloth napkin onto the table with far more force than necessary.
“I-i..I be right back.”
Michael hurried out of the room. Leaving a puzzled little girl behind.
“Is mummy angry?”, Muriel looked with big sad eyes up to her uncle.
“I don’t think so Angle. Don’t worry. She’s… just changing. Maybe she’ll even take you to the playground later.”
“Really?”, Muriel’s eyes light up.
“I am?”, Michael stood behind Gabriel, not looking particular fond of the idea,“doesn’t she have her nannies for this?“
Her brother just shrugged and gifted Michael a bright smile.
Michael hated playgrounds about as much as Muriel disliked trousers in the morning.
**
The playground was messy. There was no other way to say it.
Needless to say, Michael loathed chaos. She was also not really a fan of children.
Muriel was her responsibility. Sure. But did that really have to include so many other walking Petri dishes?
The playground was hopelessly overcrowded yet again. Michael genuinely could not comprehend why these places were so beloved.
To the tall brunette woman, the entire thing was simply horrifying.
And yet, here they were.
It was admittedly a rather strange sight.
Michael, Chief of Defence Staff. Architect behind half the country’s government sat ramrod straight on the bench in a pristine white suit, in the middle of a playground.
That alone was enough to make her look utterly alien. The enormous sunglasses she wore in an attempt to hide her identity did little to help.
She had repeatedly been told that Muriel needed a normal childhood.
And she truly was trying, but with her profession, things like that were never easy.
If her brother had his way, she would simply resign and finally become a full time Royal like she was supposed to.
Absolutely not.
She thrived in her job. It kept her alive in a way nothing else could.
She had worked hard to build a reputation of her own, independent from her family.
She had joined the army, studied law, desperately searching for something more.
It was not easy being ordinary, if your family galleries were full of great men and women.
In fact until recently, Michael did everything to ensure that her life was everything but ordinary. Now even just sitting at a playground felt like treason.
Being a mother, giving a child a normal life was not really in her cards.
But even if she put all her inner conflicts aside and tried…
There were still enough people sabotaging her carefully crafted normality for Muriel.
Try giving a child a normal life when journalists followed your every step.
So far nobody had recognized her, but it was only a matter of time.
Well, in this particular case, Michael perhaps wasn’t entirely unhappy about that. At the very least, it kept the playground visits short.
Still Michael was on high alert. She was merely waiting for the first camera flash. Until then, she would sit on this bench and hold Muriel’s lunchbox.
Michael stared at it with visible hostility.
Than she decided it was ridiculous, and instead took a look at her phone.
36 unanswered calls. 251 unread messages.
Fuck.
Michael also hated being unreliable. She had to call them back.
Otherwise things would be decided with out her, that couldn’t be…
Her phone vibrated again.
Michael felt something inside her eye twitch.
Unreliable. She was unreliable.
Another message lit up the screen.
URGENT. Prime Minister asking for update.
Brilliant. Just brilliant.
The tall woman took a few steps away from the screaming children before dialing a number.
“Saraqael, yes,” she paused. “Nice to hear you too. No, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to check in and let you know I’ll be coming in later today. Could you brief the Prime Minister on yesterday’s report?”
There was a brief, confused silence on the other end. Then: “Is everything alright, Ma’am?”
Everything was most certainly not alright. Michael had never once arrived later than seven o’clock since beginning her position.
“of course everything is alright or is there a problem, Saraqael?” Please say yes.
“No, Ma’am. I’ll take care of it.”
“Alright then. See you later, I suppose.”
Michael ended the call awkwardly and turned back toward the playground just in time to witness another child swing a plastic shovel directly into Muriel’s head.
THWACK.
Muriel blinked several times in stunned disbelief. Nobody had ever hit her before. Then the child burst into dramatic tears.
“MAMAAAA!”
Michael moved instantly,“Hush, hush,” she said stiffly, crouching beside Muriel.
“He hitted me, Momma!” Muriel pointed accusingly at the little boy standing nearby, still gripping the shovel with absolutely no remorse whatsoever.
Michael slowly turned toward him. The boy couldn’t have been older than four. Sticky hands. Crooked dinosaur sweater. Tiny face of a repeat offender.
“Did you violate this little girl’s physical integrity?” Michael asked with terrifying calm.
The little boy blinked at her.
“How dare you hurt this child? Have you any idea how precious she is?”
The child stared blankly. Michael stood to her full height, which on its own was intimidating enough.
“You do not hit people. Especially not with objects. Do you understand me?”
The boy’s lower lip trembled.
“Excuse me. Could you maybe stop yelling at the child? Can’t you see that he’s completely frightened?”
Michael had, in fact, not noticed that.
A tall red-haired woman approached them across the playground. There was something sharp about her. The stranger effortlessly scooped the little boy onto her hip before checking him over quickly for injuries. Once apparently satisfied, she looked back at Michael. Her expression was openly hostile.
“Excuse me?” Michael repeated coldly. “Your child hit mine.”
“They’re children,” the woman replied with a dismissive shrug. “Things like this happen all the time. No need to start shouting.”
Michael stared at her in disbelief.
“Actually, things like that do not happen all the time. If people like you would simply raise their children properly, public spaces would be considerably safer.”
The woman’s eyebrows shot upward.
“People like me?”
“I think you understood me perfectly well.”
The redhead let a short incredulous laugh.
“You know what I think? I think someone who can’t even watch her own child for five minutes without staring at her phone shouldn’t be quite so quick to judge.”
Michael stiffened instantly.
“Because if you had been watching,” the woman continued mercilessly, “you would’ve seen your daughter kick over his sandcastle first. He tried to take the shovel back and she hit him.”
“That’s nonsense,” Michael dismissed sharply. “Muriel would never do something like that.”
She removed her sunglasses so she could glare at the stranger properly. The woman froze. Recognition flashed instantly across her face.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Michael blinked once. “I beg your pardon?”
“You’re her.”
“…Her?”
“The King’s sister.” The woman looked her up and down slowly. “Princess Michael.
Michael immediately straightened further, every inch of her posture turning rigid and defensive as she quickly slid the sunglasses back on.
The woman smirked.
“Are we shy now?”
“We are leaving,” Michael announced icily. She grabbed Muriel’s hand with military efficiency. “Come along, Muriel.”
Muriel waved sadly at the little boy. “Bye-bye shovel boy.” Michael practically marched off the playground.
Behind her, she could still hear the woman talking to the child on her hip.
“Come on, Eric. Let’s go to the swings. Forget the woman”
The redhead cast one final glance over her shoulder at the princess.
“Pretty thing, isn’t she? Shame she’s such a stuck-up cow.”