Page 20 of Throne Off Course

“So,” Alexander said, leaning forward with unexpected interest, “what are we hunting for today?”

Emilia, now accustomed to his presence, didn’t even look up as she arranged her materials. “A letter from Queen Marguerite to the Duke of Rosendale. Supposedly, it references a missing set of regalia from the late 1600s, which we think may have been sold and lost to private collectors.”

Alexander nodded, setting his teacup on a coaster well away from the precious documents. “Ah. That explains the mess you’ve created.”

She rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. “It’s an organized mess.”

He gave her a look filled with amusement. “That’s what all chaotic people say.”

“Excuse me?” she shot back, straightening to her full height. “I am extremely organized.”

He raised a brow, gesturing to the stacks of books, loose papers, and notes covering nearly every inch of the large wooden table.

She scowled. “It makes sense to me.”

Alexander chuckled, shaking his head as he picked up one of the leather-bound ledgers. “Well, before your sense of organization swallows the entire room, let’s see if I can save us some time.”

She watched as he flipped open a different volume entirely, skimming it with the kind of ease that suggested he had actually read half these records before. The morning lightcaught his profile as he concentrated, illuminating features that, despite her best efforts, she was beginning to find less irritating.

“Marguerite was meticulous,” Alexander mused, running a finger down a column of faded numbers. “If she referenced the regalia, it wouldn’t be in a personal letter—it would be in a financial statement.” He glanced up, meeting her eyes. “Cross-check your timeframe with her expenditures between 1683 and 1686.”

Emilia frowned but pulled the relevant book toward her. She flipped to the dates, running a finger along the listing.

And there it was.

A notation referencing an item marked as “transferred to Rosendale: private arrangement.”

She gaped at the page, then at Alexander.

He looked at her with a hint of genuine pleasure in his eyes. “I’m waiting for my thank you.”

Emilia huffed, fighting the smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, shut up.”

But privately, she had to admit, his insight was impressive.

Of course, working efficiently together didn’t mean agreeing. Their fundamental approaches remained at odds, creating a daily battleground of historical interpretation.

Alexander advocated for a polished, structured royal narrative. He wanted a timeline of order, prosperity, and enduring leadership.

“King James III ushered in a golden age of national stability,” he would assert, gesturing to the economic records from the period.

Emilia would push a stack of letters across the table. “Your ‘golden age’ exiled half the intellectual class and shutdown opposition newspapers,” she’d counter, tapping on documented accounts of silenced critics.

The massive windows would catch the afternoon light as he straightened, ever-royal. “The monarchy has played a vital role in shaping the nation’s identity.”

“By forcibly absorbing independent regions into its rule? Yes, I suppose that is ‘shaping’ in its own way,” she’d reply, eyebrow raised in challenge.

By the end of the week, they had debated every single monarch, revised the timeline twice, and rewritten key segments to include both perspectives. It was exhausting. It was also annoyingly satisfying. Their exhibit was becoming something neither of them could have created alone. It was more complete, more honest and ultimately more compelling this way.

Alexander hadn’t expected to be impressed. He’d expected to endure this project, to manage it, to ensure it reflected the dignity of the institution he represented. But as days passed, he found himself observing her with growing curiosity. The way her eyes lit up as she uncovered forgotten details, her voice carrying that undeniable energy when she connected disparate historical threads.

She wasn’t just knowledgeable. She was passionate. She made even the driest of facts sound interesting. Like history wasn’t just dates and people and places, but a story worth telling. Her insistence on including the full truth, inconvenient as it sometimes was, brought the history to life in ways he’d never imagined.

And for the first time since meeting her, he thought, maybe this wasn’t going to be completely unbearable. Maybe, in fact, it might be something else entirely.

13

Welcome to Denial. Population: Emilia