Marching On

Lavin sat, spine erect, in a cushioned chair that dated back to the 1600s. She was in her father's study with her father's private secretary, Mikkel, pacing in circles in front of her. His hands were tightly clasped behind his back, his forehead creased.

They remained in silence, but Lavin could hear her heart pounding in her ears. Lavin moved her hands in her lap, fiddling her thumbs. In all her years she knew being summoned to the King's study was not a good thing.

It was the place he held business with government officials, a place that Lavin stood in only a handful of times.

The lights were bright and the curtains were drawn to see the light of the Theatre School across the bay.

Lavin idly wondered if she had done anything wrong. Maybe they had discovered the tape she and Harry made on Valentine's Day, but she quickly reassured herself that the video was tucked away safely in a fake book of no significance.

Her heart caught in her throat when one of the oak double doors opened. Mikkel immediately stopped pacing and bowed his head. In stepped her father, mother, grandfather, and grandmother.

Lavin stood as they took to the room. Lucy and Sebastian sat on opposite ends of the medieval couch, looking resolute. Fredrick went to the small bar in the corner of the room, pouring himself a brandy; and, Temperance stood behind the couch, arms folded across her chest, attempting to hide a look of despair.

"What-" Lavin began, but was interrupted by her father: "We'll start shortly. We're just waiting for Helena to arrive."

Lavin was confused. The Prime Minster was coming?

Then, the door opened once more and in rushed an anxious-looking Clara, Lavin's own private secretary followed by Helena Ablidgaard looking pristine in a navy blue business suit.

"Her Excellency Prime Minister Ablidgaard," Clara announced in her strongest voice. Both Helena and Clara bowed their head.

"Welcome, Helena," Temperance said, catching the minister in a hug. They passed quick kisses on their cheeks but then Helena's smile evaporated when she took the seat Sebastian offered her.

"Good evening, Your Highness," Helena said, finally acknowledging Lavin.

"And to you, Your Excellency," Lavin said, nodding her head. Then she looked to her parents and her grandparents. "May I ask what this is all about?"

"I'm sorry, dear," Temperance said. "Tonight we have some serious things to discuss."

"Have I done something wrong?" Lavin asked, feeling like a child under their gazes.

Sebastian shook his head. "Your behavior and worth ethic have been flawless. This is a matter of state." He placed a hand on Helena's shoulder. "You may begin."

Helena pushed herself to the edge of her seat and crossed her legs, leaning closer to Lavin. Her hands clasped together and resting on her thigh. She flashed a sympathetic smile, lips shut and pulled tight. "Due to your father's recent health issues I'm here to discuss a few things about the future."

"The future?" Lavin said aloud.

"Yes," Helena continued, "As you know your father is planned to begin chemotherapy this week; but, we need to go over a few things if things don't go as planned."

"You mean if he doesn't respond to treatment?" Lavin asked, refusing to look at Fredrick.

Helena bobbed her head, her sharp blond bob shimmying. "Yes, in that case, you will become queen."

Lavin squared her jaw, already not agreeing with this topic of discussion. "Are we reviewing the line of succession, Miss Ablidgaard, because I am very familiar with that."

"Lavin," Lucy warned, eyes sharp.

Lavin shoulders squared. "Sorry. Please continue."

"Your family and I are just looking out for your future and the future of the country," Helena told her.

"Also the future of our family and the monarchy," Fredrick said.

"And of tradition," Sebastian added.

Lavin didn't know how to answer, if an answer was even needed. She hadn't stepped one toe out of line and had kept her head buried in books about state affairs.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I just don't understand."

"Dear," Lucy began. Lavin knew she was about to sugar-coat her words. "A queen
needs a husband."

"A husband?" Lavin echoed. "But I'm only twenty-six."

"Older than both your parents and your grandmother and me were when we were married," Sebastian commented, taking a glass of brandy from Fredrick.

Fredrick took a seat on the arm of the coach next to his father, his own glass of brandy in hand. "Lavin...if I don't respond to treatment I will only get worse-"

"Don't talk like that!" Lavin interjected roughly.

Fredrick held his free hand up. "Stop. We must be prepared for every possibility. Like your grandmother was saying a Queen of Denmark needs a husband; and, as of right now, you have no potential suitors."

"What?" Lavin questioned. "I have a boyfriend. You know that, right?" She felt herself inching to the front of her chair. "Harry and I are together." She didn't like where this was going.

"We know, sweetheart." It was the first time Temperance had spoken in a while.

Lavin could feel the fire in her legs, anxiety coursing through her bloodstream. Perhaps even adrenaline too. Her body itched at the thought of marriage so soon...or so late in her relatives eyes.

"Why do I need a husband to be queen? A king does not need a wife," Lavin asked with venom.

Fred shook his head. "No, legally a monarch does not need a spouse but it is what people expect. It is safe to take a husband to ensure the future of our family."

"To reproduce," Lavin spat. Having children had never crossed her mind. "Am all I am to my country is a breeding tool?"

"Do not be irrational, Lavinia!" Sebastian bellowed, ceasing all noise in study. Clara and Helena seemed to jump out of the skins at Sebastian's tone.

"We're not saying you need to be married tomorrow or even three months from now; but, we do need you to begin looking for men that are suitable for the role as Prince Consort," Lucy told her. Lavin noted that her grandmother used the voice she used to quell their tears when they were young, but it hadn't worked.

Lavin launched herself from the chair. "A suitable man. Is Harry not good enough for Denmark? For me?" Her arms were crossed and she was pointing at herself, all of a sudden furious.

"Harry couldn't be more suitable for you and this country, darling," Temperance attempted to remedy.

"Then what is the problem?" Lavin asked incredulously.

"Do you not have enough wits about you to see the reason, girl?" Sebastian spoke, his grip tightening around his cane.

Lavin stood there stunned. Never had her grandfather yelled at her like that much less insulted her intelligence. Still, she attempted to unravel the reason for Harry to be deemed unacceptable.

This time Mikkel, her father's secretary invaded her thoughts. "Your Highness," he began carefully. "Prince Harry cannot be your husband because he is in line for his own throne."

"William is heir," Lavin replied immediately.

"Yes," Mikkel nodded. "But-"

Sebastian stood up, cane steadying him. "Harry is the Spare; and he will remain so until William has children. Therefore, making him unable to marry anyone else in line for a throne until that point in time."

Lavin was blown back into her seat by his words. Why in all the years had she known Harry, had dated Harry had she not realized this? And why had her family allowed the relationship to blossom over this last decade? Anger swelled in her again.

"William will have children," Lavin muttered.

"You cannot predict that, love." Temperance's voice was as low as hers. "There may even be a chance that there are no children, God forbid. Only time will tell."

"It may take years, Lavin," Fredrick said. "And I may not have years."

Lavin felt the catch her throat and the tears welled in her eyes.

"Do you understand now why you cannot marry Harry?" Sebastian's tone had softened.

"Yes," Lavin said, find the strength to stand again. A few tears leaked down her cheeks. "But I would sooner renounce my title and my throne to be with Harry."

And she stormed out of the study and ran to her room. With all the maturity of a thirteen-year-old she slammed her bedroom door shut, hoping that she slammed it loud enough for her parents and grandparents to hear.

Lavin didn't bother to turn on the lights before she dove into her bed, throwing the covers over her. Even though she threatened to abdicate she knew that it was just that: a threat. She didn't have the guts to abandon the only country she knew. The one she was born to rule.

But, she wondered, if she had the guts to give up Harry for it.