I knew I could have a chance to take the throne one day. This isn't what I ever expected. Not what I ever would have wanted.

 

When I was little, I wanted to one day be Queen. Being Queen would be fun, right?

 

Then, I realized it would involve the death of everyone above me in the line of succession, like Cousin Beth and my parents. 

 

I stopped dreaming about one day being Queen, long ago, and started dreaming about the Navy and the stars instead.

 

I saw Beth have to take the throne young, after the Havenites killed Uncle Roger. It put pressure on her in ways that couldn't have been good for her. At least in the Navy, I wasn't going to have to think about my birth as much, if I didn't want to. 

 

That's why I retreated to the Navy, where I wouldn't have to be reminded of it so much. That's why I never used my birth to view my classified file or to accelerate my promotion. 

 

And Honor's off on Haven, trying to negotiate with Pritchart, so she's not around to talk to (and take advantage of her good alcohol stash).

 

"What… What happened?" I ask hesitantly, once I can hear things normally again. 

 

The dispatch boat skipper had obviously prepared his next words carefully, "The home system was attacked somehow. Debris from our three space stations, which were all destroyed, hit the planets, and a fragment hit Landing, Your Majesty. We didn't see any impeller drive signatures, as far as I know, before the attack, that could have done it, so we don't think it's the Sollies or Havenites, especially as the latter is talking to us, last news I got."

 

"So. I need to return home, probably?" I mutter while processing the news.

 

The skipper answers, "Earl White Haven and Baron Grantville are running the temporary government, Your Majesty, and attached some dispatches suggesting, with all due respect, that you return home, as soon as safely possible."

 

Standing next to me, Michael states in that accent I can never stand, "As much as Aah've bin' honored t' serve with you, your days uh bein' an Admiral are ovah. Your people need ya, Your Majesty."

 

I somehow manage to say "Your Majesty… That's- was Beth."

 

He rises to my bait, and painfully reminds me, "And it's you now, Your Majesty." 

 

I can't mask my reaction perfectly, as much as I try. Beth could at least try, even if she was known for having a bit of a temper at times, especially when we were growing up.

 

I eventually force a nod out at the dispatch boat skipper, and Michael squeezes my wrist gently, somehow making me deprioritize reexplaining to him to call me Mike, not Your Majesty until our dinner tonight, instead of in front of everyone.

 

Once Michael and I are finally able to retreat to my day cabin for a private dinner, I explain to him,"Somehow, despite being trained for this, I feel out of place. The Empress… It was supposed to be Cousin Beth, not me. I don’t really know what I’m doing."

 

"Ah understand…" he pauses, trying to figure out what to call his uncrowned Empress, to maintain formality like he was taught, despite the fact that we've been dating for a while.

 

I interject, breaking the calm and formality of the moment, "Mike's fine when it's just the two of us, you know." 

 

“Ah’ll be there at your side for as long as you’d like, ya know, Mike.” It doesn’t even sound too forced, this time, I muse. Did I manage to get Mr. Cousin of High Ridge (with the accent, to boot), of all people, to not try to insist on being infuriatingly formal at me? I think I did!

 

“Thank you, Michael.” I look at him. First, his left eye, then his lips, then, his right eye. He winks at me, and we end up kissing. At this rate, I don’t think he needs more reminders…