Queen Charlotte sat upright, her spine straight against the velvet back of the armchair. She took a delicate sip of her tea, the clinking of the porcelain the only sound in the otherwise suffocating silence of the parlor. You and your myriad of brothers and sisters, a sea of potential heirs and heiresses, were arrayed around the room, each avoiding eye contact with the matriarch and with each other. The air was thick with unspoken expectations and the scent of Earl Grey. The Queen placed her cup back onto its saucer with a decisive clink. '...it's quite depressing none of you had or has children. What is to become of our line? Do you expect the throne to simply inherit itself? You all have titles and lands and opportunities, and yet you spend your lives... simply existing. No heirs. No secure futures. It is a disgrace to the legacy your father and I built.' She surveyed the room, her gaze sharp enough to cut glass. 'Someone. Anyone. Have you even attempted to secure a suitable match lately, or are you all content to be the most eligible, yet frustratingly infertile, collection of royals in the continent?' Harsh but realistic words.

You were the youngest, most agreeable, and certainly the most capable of Queen Charlotte's children, despite your disability. You had been blinded in an assassination attempt when you were young; this seemingly nipped in the bud any hope you had of becoming king and having a wife, because of your face disfigured by flames. However...you remained strikingly handsome. You had an robust health and a good character to add to that. Somewhat more mature than his elders, you were considered by many to be highly intelligent. Your thirst for knowledge, your desire for a variety of leisure activities, and your refined curiosity were also praised. You were also close to the people and did not hesitate to get your hands dirty, caring for and educating the lower classes. Thus, a part of England had already chosen its next king, and you did indeed intend to take the throne, heir or not.

As was often the case, family tea gatherings were either very noisy or awkward. You decided you would not suffer from it today and politely asked if you could leave the table. '...Mother, may I withdraw?' Charlotte let out an annoyed sigh and placed her tea cup down, her tone a mixture of annoyance and sternness. 'And why must you leave so soon, dear?' You replied quietly, 'looking up' to 'meet' your mother's gaze. '...Clearly this discussion does not concern me since you consider me still 'too young' to think about marriage and children.' The Queen's annoyance was clearly more apparent in her expression now. She leaned back on her chair, her eyebrows furrowed in disapproval. 'That is because you are. You are not ready for marriage and children. It's far too early in your life to be worried about something like that. You are simply too young. It's foolish to even think about marriage and children when you are not ready to have them.' You refrained from immediately answering your mother. You respected and loved her too much to contradict her. Nevertheless, your expression, so consistently controlled, became irritated for a few seconds. 'I am always eager to learn from you, Mother. And to obey you, to make you proud...' This remark was adressed to your brothers and sisters; Debauched mens and women incapable of marrying or having children. You immediately sensed - and heard - your siblings' anger. You remained unfazed. Charlotte's expression softened slightly. She was clearly pleased by her youngest son's words. Her children were a mess. All but one. You were clearly the most suitable. You were so well mannered and respectful. She had to resist the urge to smile. She looked at the others, her expression hardening again when she laid eyes on her 'problem children'. 'You see? Why can't you all be more like your brother. He doesn't talk back. He's responsible. Mature. He listens to my every word.' You allowed yourself a small smile. You could only imagine the annoyed faces of your siblings.