19-07-2025, 02:00 PM
Steuart House, Bekenial suburbs, Adelia, Kingdom of Hutori
The spring sun had begun to warm the air that surrounded Steuart Bouse, but inside the Queen’s private residence, the fire still burned low in the grate. Queen Arianna stood by the arched solarium windows, her silhouette framed in pale light.
The day felt deceptively ordinary. But the moment was anything but.
Rosalyn Woodbury entered without fanfare, her tailored coat unbuttoned, her gloved hands folded loosely in front of her. She didn’t knock; she was the only one who didn't, and didn't need to.
“You’re early,” The Queen said, not turning. “Tea isn’t even steeped yet.”
Rosalyn smiled faintly. “You don’t invite me for tea and away from keeping an eye on your government unless something’s shifting. So. What is it?”
Arianna turned, her expression betraying the faintest nervous hesitation, the kind that only Rosalyn, who had known her since infancy, would ever catch.
“He’s not a politician,” the Queen said, as if that explained everything.
Rosalyn raised a brow. “Who isn’t?”
The Queen motioned for her to sit in the drawing room. A fire crackled softly behind them, and a tray of still-steaming pastries had already been laid out.
“His name is David Alvarez-Ananto,” Arianna said. “Nephew to the Queen Nicole of Egelion. First cousin to King George of Baltusia. He’s a golfer. Professionally.”
Rosalyn sat back, eyes narrowing slightly. Not disapproving. Just… measuring. “And where did you meet this Vrassan golfer with noble blood and questionable career choices?”
“At Empress Mary’s villa in Athosia,” Arianna said. “We spent a few days there before I returned. She introduced us while we were having tea ourselves. Just the three of us, actually. He was visiting for an invitational tournament.”
Rosalyn blinked, once. “The Empress introduced him to you?”
Arianna allowed a smile. “Very deliberately.”
“Her Inperial Majesty doesn’t make idle introductions.”
“No. She doesn’t.”
Rosalyn picked up her teacup, examining the steam before taking a careful sip. “And?”
“And we talked,” Arianna said simply. “About nothing at first — mountains, weather, ski wax, course layouts. But then about grief. Pressure. Legacy. He understands the burden of being adjacent to power without being owned by it.”
There was silence between them. Not heavy, just long. Rosalyn set her cup down.
“So you like him.”
Arianna tilted her head. “I’m intrigued. Drawn. I haven’t felt… safe with a man in years. He’s calm. Steady. Unimpressed by palaces or state dinners. He asked if I’d ever been tempted to vanish into the Macons.”
Rosalyn raised an eyebrow. “And did you say yes?”
Arianna smiled. “I said I might have, if not for you.”
That earned a flicker of warmth from the older woman.
“I see,” Rosalyn said softly. “So I’m the reason you haven’t eloped with a golf pro from the Kalistani aristocracy?"
“Well,” Arianna said, leaning in just slightly, “that and the fact he’s likely already being vetted by someone on your staff.”
Rosalyn’s smirk was unrepentant. “Of course he is. You think I wouldn’t background check the man introduced by the Empress of Kalistan herself?”
The Queen sighed. "You already knew about him.. someone told you." It wasn't a question.
Her Principal Secretary just smiled enigmatically.
Queen Arianna looked up and gave her Principal advisor and godmother a weary smile. "The Royal Guard and my personal attendant answer to you as much as me."
“As they should,” Rosalyn said. “Especially when the Queen is being courted by someone with a fairly impressive handicap of and a last name that opens more doors than Parliament.”
Arianna laughed softly — not the poised, diplomatic laugh of a Queen, but something younger. More human.
“You’re not going to ask if I’m serious about him.”
“No,” Rosalyn said. “Because I already know you are. You wouldn’t have invited me here if you weren’t.”
There was a beat. Then:
“Does it unsettle you?” Arianna asked, quieter now. “That I might… feel something again? After everything?”
Rosalyn’s expression softened in a way only Arianna ever saw.
“No. It’s what I prayed for,” she said. “I just didn’t expect it to come wearing cleats.”
The Queen smiled again. "I'd like an excuse to bring him here."
Rosalyn Woodbury thought about it a moment and responded simply. "Well, Adelia and Kenai do have a lot of gold courses.. and there is always the King's Invitational.. we'll make sure he's invited."
And for the first time in seven years, Queen Arianna smiled like the girl she had been before she wore the Crown.
The spring sun had begun to warm the air that surrounded Steuart Bouse, but inside the Queen’s private residence, the fire still burned low in the grate. Queen Arianna stood by the arched solarium windows, her silhouette framed in pale light.
The day felt deceptively ordinary. But the moment was anything but.
Rosalyn Woodbury entered without fanfare, her tailored coat unbuttoned, her gloved hands folded loosely in front of her. She didn’t knock; she was the only one who didn't, and didn't need to.
“You’re early,” The Queen said, not turning. “Tea isn’t even steeped yet.”
Rosalyn smiled faintly. “You don’t invite me for tea and away from keeping an eye on your government unless something’s shifting. So. What is it?”
Arianna turned, her expression betraying the faintest nervous hesitation, the kind that only Rosalyn, who had known her since infancy, would ever catch.
“He’s not a politician,” the Queen said, as if that explained everything.
Rosalyn raised a brow. “Who isn’t?”
The Queen motioned for her to sit in the drawing room. A fire crackled softly behind them, and a tray of still-steaming pastries had already been laid out.
“His name is David Alvarez-Ananto,” Arianna said. “Nephew to the Queen Nicole of Egelion. First cousin to King George of Baltusia. He’s a golfer. Professionally.”
Rosalyn sat back, eyes narrowing slightly. Not disapproving. Just… measuring. “And where did you meet this Vrassan golfer with noble blood and questionable career choices?”
“At Empress Mary’s villa in Athosia,” Arianna said. “We spent a few days there before I returned. She introduced us while we were having tea ourselves. Just the three of us, actually. He was visiting for an invitational tournament.”
Rosalyn blinked, once. “The Empress introduced him to you?”
Arianna allowed a smile. “Very deliberately.”
“Her Inperial Majesty doesn’t make idle introductions.”
“No. She doesn’t.”
Rosalyn picked up her teacup, examining the steam before taking a careful sip. “And?”
“And we talked,” Arianna said simply. “About nothing at first — mountains, weather, ski wax, course layouts. But then about grief. Pressure. Legacy. He understands the burden of being adjacent to power without being owned by it.”
There was silence between them. Not heavy, just long. Rosalyn set her cup down.
“So you like him.”
Arianna tilted her head. “I’m intrigued. Drawn. I haven’t felt… safe with a man in years. He’s calm. Steady. Unimpressed by palaces or state dinners. He asked if I’d ever been tempted to vanish into the Macons.”
Rosalyn raised an eyebrow. “And did you say yes?”
Arianna smiled. “I said I might have, if not for you.”
That earned a flicker of warmth from the older woman.
“I see,” Rosalyn said softly. “So I’m the reason you haven’t eloped with a golf pro from the Kalistani aristocracy?"
“Well,” Arianna said, leaning in just slightly, “that and the fact he’s likely already being vetted by someone on your staff.”
Rosalyn’s smirk was unrepentant. “Of course he is. You think I wouldn’t background check the man introduced by the Empress of Kalistan herself?”
The Queen sighed. "You already knew about him.. someone told you." It wasn't a question.
Her Principal Secretary just smiled enigmatically.
Queen Arianna looked up and gave her Principal advisor and godmother a weary smile. "The Royal Guard and my personal attendant answer to you as much as me."
“As they should,” Rosalyn said. “Especially when the Queen is being courted by someone with a fairly impressive handicap of and a last name that opens more doors than Parliament.”
Arianna laughed softly — not the poised, diplomatic laugh of a Queen, but something younger. More human.
“You’re not going to ask if I’m serious about him.”
“No,” Rosalyn said. “Because I already know you are. You wouldn’t have invited me here if you weren’t.”
There was a beat. Then:
“Does it unsettle you?” Arianna asked, quieter now. “That I might… feel something again? After everything?”
Rosalyn’s expression softened in a way only Arianna ever saw.
“No. It’s what I prayed for,” she said. “I just didn’t expect it to come wearing cleats.”
The Queen smiled again. "I'd like an excuse to bring him here."
Rosalyn Woodbury thought about it a moment and responded simply. "Well, Adelia and Kenai do have a lot of gold courses.. and there is always the King's Invitational.. we'll make sure he's invited."
And for the first time in seven years, Queen Arianna smiled like the girl she had been before she wore the Crown.