The summons came at dawn, delivered by a tight-lipped Dowager Countess whose expression promised nothing good. Eudora was to present herself in the Queen's Drawing Room immediately to receive Lady Ashford and the Duchess of Marlborough for morning calls.
"So early?" Eudora asked, still in her dressing gown.
"It's nearly eight o'clock, Your Majesty," the Countess replied with barely concealed disapproval. "The nobility do not sleep until noon."
Eudora bit back a retort about farmers rising at four and instead submitted to being dressed and arranged. But the rushed preparation meant her hair wasn't quite perfect, and she could feel the Countess's silent judgment like a weight on her shoulders.
The Queen's Drawing Room was one of the palace's more intimate spaces, though "intimate" was relative,it was still larger than the entire Sinclair cottage. The Duchess of Marlborough and Lady Ashford were already seated when Eudora entered, and neither woman rose.
It was a deliberate slight. Protocol dictated they should stand for the queen, but by remaining seated, they were asserting their own importance and questioning hers.
Eudora's first instinct was to call them out on it, but she remembered Walter's words about the court being crueler than any battlefield. This was her first real test, and she needed to navigate it carefully.
She settled into her chair with as much grace as she could muster and smiled politely. "Lady Ashford, Duchess, how kind of you to call."
"We felt it our duty," the Duchess said, her tone suggesting it was anything but kind. "To welcome you properly to court and offer... guidance."
"How thoughtful," Eudora replied, her voice sweet as honey.
Lady Ashford leaned forward, her sharp eyes taking in every detail of Eudora's appearance. "You must find everything so overwhelming, coming from such humble circumstances. The ways of the court are quite complex."
"I'm learning," Eudora said evenly.
"Of course you are, dear." The Duchess's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Though one cannot help but wonder if you're quite prepared for the responsibilities you've assumed. Being queen requires such refined sensibilities, such breeding and education."
There it was,the attack veiled as concern. Eudora felt heat rise in her cheeks but forced herself to remain calm.
"I may lack aristocratic breeding," she said carefully, "but I was blessed with parents who taught me integrity, compassion, and the value of hard work. I hope those qualities prove equally valuable in service to the crown."
Lady Ashford laughed, a tinkling sound like breaking glass. "How charming. Though I'm afraid hard work won't help you navigate the intricacies of diplomatic protocol or understand the historical alliances that govern court politics. These are matters of blood and lineage."
"Then perhaps it's fortunate I have such experienced ladies as yourselves to advise me," Eudora replied, fighting to keep her temper in check.
The Duchess exchanged a glance with Lady Ashford. "Advise you, yes. Though one wonders if His Majesty sought advice before making such an... unusual choice for his bride. My daughters,any of them,would have brought valuable political alliances to the marriage."
"His Majesty made the choice he felt was best for the kingdom," Eudora said, her voice hardening despite her efforts.
"Did he?" The Duchess's eyebrows rose. "Or did he simply make an impulsive decision that serves no one's interests but those of a single ambitious family?"
The accusation hung in the air, ugly and unmistakable. They were suggesting that Eudora,or worse, her father,had somehow manipulated Walter into this marriage.
Before Eudora could respond, the door opened and Walter strode in. His expression was thunderous, the stern mask fully in place, but when his eyes fell on Eudora, something flickered there,concern, perhaps, or anger on her behalf.
"Ladies," he said coldly. "I was not aware you had requested an audience with the queen."
Both women scrambled to their feet, curtsying deeply. "Your Majesty," the Duchess said, her voice suddenly obsequious. "We were merely paying a courtesy call, welcoming Her Majesty to court."
"How fortunate that I arrived, then, to add my welcome to yours." Walter's tone made it clear he was anything but pleased. He crossed to Eudora and offered his hand, helping her to her feet. "My dear, I apologize for interrupting, but I've just received word that your family has arrived for a visit. I'm sure you'd like to see them."
It was a lie,Eudora would have known if her family was visiting,but she grasped the lifeline he was offering. "Of course. If you'll excuse me, ladies?"
She curtsied to them, deliberately brief, and allowed Walter to escort her from the room. Once they were in the corridor, he didn't release her hand, instead leading her quickly through a series of hallways until they reached a small private library.
Only then did he let go, turning to face her with concern etched across his features.
"Are you all right?" he asked. "I was passing by and heard the Duchess's last comment through the door."
Eudora sank into a chair, her composure finally cracking. "They hate me. All of them. And perhaps they're right to,I don't belong here, Walter. I don't know how to be what they expect."
"They expect you to fail," Walter said bluntly, kneeling before her chair so they were eye level. "The Duchess and her circle wanted me to marry someone they could control, someone who already owed allegiance to their political faction. Instead, I chose you,someone with no ties to court politics, someone who might actually care about the people they govern rather than just maintaining power." He took her hands in his. "Their hatred has nothing to do with your worth and everything to do with their lost influence."
"But she's right that I don't understand court politics," Eudora said miserably. "Or diplomatic protocol, or historical alliances. I'm going to make mistakes and embarrass you."
"Then you'll make mistakes," Walter said firmly. "Everyone does. I certainly have. But you'll learn, and you'll do it while remaining true to who you are. That's what I need from you, Eudora,not perfection, but authenticity. The court has plenty of perfectly polished politicians. What it lacks is humanity."
Eudora looked into his dark eyes and saw only sincerity there. "You really believe that?"
"I do." He squeezed her hands. "And I'm sorry I put you in a position where you have to face their cruelty without being fully prepared. I should have warned you, should have,"
"You can't protect me from everything," Eudora interrupted gently. "This is part of being queen, isn't it? Facing opposition, criticism, even hatred?"
"Yes," Walter admitted. "But that doesn't mean you have to face it alone."
The words settled between them, warm and reassuring. Eudora realized that somewhere in the past two weeks, she'd started to think of Walter not as the distant king she'd married out of duty, but as a partner,someone who genuinely cared about her well-being.
"Thank you," she said softly. "For rescuing me. For understanding."
Walter rose, but kept one of her hands in his. "Would you like to see something that might cheer you up?"
Intrigued, Eudora nodded. Walter led her through more corridors and down a flight of stairs, until they emerged into what appeared to be a private wing of the palace she hadn't yet explored. He stopped before a set of double doors and smiled,a real, genuine smile that made him look boyish and unguarded.
"Close your eyes," he instructed.
Eudora obeyed, feeling ridiculous but trusting him enough to comply. She heard the doors open, felt Walter guide her forward, then his voice said, "All right. Open them."
She opened her eyes and gasped.
They were standing in a library,but not just any library. The room was two stories tall, lined floor to ceiling with books. Thousands upon thousands of them, their leather spines gleaming in the light from tall windows. There were reading chairs positioned near fireplaces, desks with fresh paper and ink, and even a rolling ladder for reaching the highest shelves.
"My mother's private library," Walter explained. "She was an avid reader and collector. After she died, I couldn't bring myself to come here,it reminded me too much of her. But this morning, I realized it was being wasted." He looked at Eudora. "You said you taught reading to village children. Here's every book you could ever want, going unused. I thought perhaps... you might like to use this space. For reading, for planning your charitable work, for whatever you need."
Eudora walked slowly into the room, running her fingers along the book spines in wonder. She pulled one out at random,a volume of poetry,and held it reverently.
"I've never seen so many books in one place," she whispered. "We had perhaps a dozen at home, and I'd read them all so many times I had them memorized."
"Then these are yours now," Walter said. "All of them. Consider this your private sanctuary."
Eudora turned to face him, clutching the poetry book to her chest. "Why are you being so kind to me?"
The question seemed to catch Walter off-guard. He was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful.
"Do you remember what you asked me at dinner? Why I hide myself?" he finally said. "The truth is, I've been hiding for so long, I'd almost forgotten who I really was. But with you, I remember. You don't look at me and see only the crown. You see the man wearing it." He took a step closer. "I'm kind to you because you make me want to be kind. Because in your presence, I don't have to be just the king. I can be Walter."
Eudora's breath caught. The vulnerability in his voice, the honesty in his dark eyes,it undid something in her chest. Without thinking, she closed the distance between them and stood on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.
It was a chaste gesture, meant only as gratitude, but when she pulled back, Walter's hand came up to cup her face, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone. For a heartbeat, she thought he might kiss her properly. Instead, he simply held her there, looking at her with an expression that was equal parts wonder and longing.
"Eudora," he said softly, and her name on his lips sounded like a prayer.
Then footsteps echoed in the corridor outside, and they sprang apart. Walter's secretary appeared in the doorway, apologetic but insistent.
"Your Majesty, the Privy Council is waiting."
Walter's mask slipped back into place, but not before Eudora caught the flash of frustration in his eyes. "Of course." He turned to Eudora. "Will you be all right here?"
"Yes," she assured him. "I have thousands of new friends to keep me company."
After he left, Eudora spent the rest of the morning exploring her new sanctuary. She found books on everything from philosophy to farming, history to poetry, science to stories. On one of the desks, she found what appeared to be Queen Cecilia's personal journals, filled with elegant handwriting that detailed her thoughts on everything from court politics to her love for her son.
Walter was six today, one entry read. He takes his responsibilities so seriously, even now. I worry that he'll grow up too fast, that the weight of what he'll become will crush the joy from him. I must remember to let him be a child while he still can.
Eudora felt tears prick her eyes. Cecilia had seen even then what her son was becoming,a man buried beneath duty, trained to hide any hint of softness. But here, in this room surrounded by his mother's books and memories, Walter had given Eudora a gift that was both generous and deeply personal. He was sharing a piece of himself, a piece he kept hidden from the rest of the world.
That evening at dinner, Eudora presented Walter with something she'd spent the afternoon creating,a list of proposals for reforming the charitable organizations under the crown's patronage. She'd researched similar efforts in the journals she'd found, combining Cecilia's ideas with her own observations from growing up among the working poor.
Walter read through them carefully, his expression growing more animated with each page. When he finished, he looked at her with unconcealed admiration.
"These are brilliant," he said. "Practical, compassionate, and actually achievable. The Hospital for Foundling Children alone could benefit from," He stopped himself. "I'm sorry. I'm getting carried away."
"Don't apologize," Eudora said with a smile. "I like seeing you excited about something."
They spent the rest of dinner discussing her proposals, refining details, considering implementation. It was the most intellectually stimulating conversation Eudora had ever had, and watching Walter's face light up as they planned together, she realized something that both thrilled and terrified her.
She was beginning to fall in love with her husband.
Not with the stern king the court saw, but with this man,this complicated, burdened, surprisingly gentle man who gave her libraries and listened to her ideas and looked at her like she mattered. The man who had married her out of duty but was slowly becoming something more.