She's My Queen

Chapter 3: To England

"What? They want to kill me?"

My 'mother' squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. "And King Edward, what do you propose?"

"I want her to come to England with me. Tonight."

I roll my eyes. "Edward, I am not going to England with you," I turn to my 'mother', "Do I get a say in this marriage thing?"

Edward smirks. "No."

"Shut up!" I glare at him, "I wasn't taking to you."

"Would you rather stay and die, or come with me and be my queen?"

I grit my teeth. "Stop saying mine. I am not an object. And just to be clear, I would rather die."

"Catherine," my 'mother' smiles sadly, "I think you'll be safest in England. Why don't you go have the servants pack your things."

"Wow," I scoff, "thanks, mom."

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing," I poke Edward's shoulder, probably a little harder than necessary, but oh well, I don't like him, "are you going to let me down now, or are you going to carry me to my room?

He smirks, again. Ugh. How annoying.
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"Can't I just stay here?" I huff as I rummage through princess Catherine's drawers. It's strange how many little vials of multicoloured liquid she's got in there. I wonder if it's poison. Maybe I could kill Edward with one of these. "I think we should get to know each other first before we get married. When you really get to know me, I promise you won't like me."

"Don't need to like you to marry you," Edward shrugs, sitting down on Catherine's bed. He grabs her diary and is about to flip it open when I reach over and snatch it.

"Don't touch other people's belongings without asking! Didn't your parents teach you any manners?" I stuff the diary in one of the many trunks that the servants prepared for me. Maybe Catherine's diary will offer some clues on how I got here and how I  return home.

"My father died when I was four, and my mother is kind of insane."

"Oh god," I give him an apologetic look, "I'm sorry! I didn't know. I just always thought that princes grew up spoiled and had easy lives."

"You couldn't be more mislead..." he whispers, staring down at his hands. Seeing him this dismal sends a pang of guilt through me, and I walk over and sit down on the bed next to him. "Hey, you okay?" I hesitantly give him a pat on the shoulder, feeling really really awkward.

"All my brothers were murdered before they could ascend the throne. Even young Charles, he was only  eight."

Wow. Very dark past. "Um," I gulp. "Do you know who murdered them?"

"No," Edward sighs, "I have a few suspects, but nothing certain yet. Actually, your sister's husband, Prince George, is one of them."

"Prince George?"

"He's my cousin, next in line to the throne, after me." He turns and looks into my eyes, "When I heard that you were George's sister in law, I had my doubts about you. But I know now that I can trust you."

"What?" I blurt out, startled. "You trust me?" For some reason, saying those three words sent a strangely pleasant chill down my spine.

He nods, looking sincere. "Yes."

"If I marry you...will my life be in danger too?"

Edward takes my hands into his, squeezing them. My heart flutters at his sudden warmness. "You're already in danger. You're princess royal of Scotland. The future queen." Leaning in closer, he whispers, "but if you come with me, I can protect you. No. We can protect each other...just like we did out there in the courtyard."

"Why?" I demand, shrinking under his intense gaze. "Why me?"