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from behind the throne

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This is the last situation Charlotte ever expected to find herself in when she first met Becky all those months ago: saying goodbye for the night on her balcony yet again, ready to see Becky through the passageway that links Charlotte’s bedchamber to the outskirts of the palace grounds. She might be the queen, but she still has to keep up appearances.

(“A disturber of the peace, your majesty.” Lady Dana curtsies, low, and then steps aside so two guards can bring this so-called dissenter closer to the throne. Charlotte peers down and sees commoners’ clothes and a blaze of red hair and a determined expression.

Quite frankly, she’s intrigued. She stands, steps forward, and reaches down to cup the cheek of the woman kneeling on the floor in front of her, tilting her face upwards.

“And what do we have here?”

She isn’t surprised when the woman spits at her. Everyone else is – the loudest gasp comes from Dana, always trying to fawn and flatter. It’s the epitome of disrespect, yes, but when you’re bored of day to day castle life, it’s tough not to feel a little impressed.)

Now, when Charlotte takes Becky’s face in her hand, it’s to kiss her, gentle. Now, Becky’s hands are able to thread through Charlotte’s hair rather than tied behind her back. They say their farewells, and Charlotte can’t help but think that just maybe, as dangerous and, quite frankly, shameful of her as it is, she’s found her happily ever after.