"These clothes are a bit boring, are they not?" Louis grumbled at Beatrice's insensitive comment before snapping back at her, "You're going to your older brother's funeral, not a gala!" Beatrice scoffed as her brother bickered, "Oh, please! I'd at least prefer not to look like a plastic bag!"

Anastasia quickly turned around at her two siblings, stamping her foot and throwing her arms down, "Would you two stop? It's not the protocol to be dressed fancy for a funeral!" Catherine giggled as she slouched in her chair, spectating her sibling's argument, "Please, as if you're one to talk about the silly protocols. You don't even follow them yourself. You're like papa!" Edwin sat on the sofa, quietly laughing at his sibling's bickering. He was only 9 months younger than Louis. That poor mother.

Alice, the youngest sibling at the young age of 8 laughed at her siblings as she bit her nails, observing from the corner of the room. Anastasia raised her eyebrow, looking Catherine up and down. "Please, you're just jealous of how close and alike I and papa have always been." Louis butted in, "Sure we are, I definitely just want to be like papa. Oh wait, doesn't everyone in our country bloody hate him?!" Beatrice snapped at Louis, "Please! Just because of that little American divorcee incident. They're all so dramatic!"

Martin, their mother's secretary, poked his head in the door before announcing, "The cars are all outside. His Majesty and Her Majesty are both waiting downstairs for you all. Her Royal Highness Anastasia will be in the car with His Majesty while the rest of you all will be with Her Majesty or in another car."

Catherine made a fake gasp as she eyed Anastasia, "Such a shocker! I can't believe we'll all be crammed in two small cars meanwhile you and papa get your spacious vehicle." Martin awkwardly cringed at the two before beginning to speak, "Well, she is the-" Louis shook his head, "You don't need to deal with her stupid bickering." Anastasia hurriedly walked out of the room, almost tripping down the stairs as she rushed outside.

Glaring around as her siblings trailed behind, she crossed her arms as she looked at the cars. Suddenly, her father opened his door and yelled, "Over here Ann!" She smiled as she hurriedly walked over, sliding into the seat.

"Are we not running late?" Anastasia glared over as she moved her hair out of her face, glaring around the car. Edward scoffed as he rubbed his eyes, "It doesn't matter. The stupid times, schedule, or protocol doesn't matter. This is my son's funeral, they can cry about their stupid schedule all they want."

Anastasia nodded in agreement as she glared out the window, the car beginning to move. "There'll be people on the side of the streets, won't there?" Edward crouched down in his seat as he glared out his window, "Of course. We're just a bunch of show ponies. This funeral will be one huge media circus."

She sniffled before looking over to her father, "Mummy isn't doing alright today, is she?" He shook his head as he replied, "Not one bit. Your brother was one of her favorites, to be truthful. We don't love each other, but she most definitely loves all her children."

Anastasia's parents were in an arranged marriage, one hastily put together to get rid of American divorcee Wallis Simpson that her father had fallen in love with. He had to choose to marry her, or abdicate the throne. He chose to give up on his love and stay with an arranged marriage.

The two always bickered back and forth about the simplest things, and really didn't get much along. They had children, and that was enough. Edward would've gladly divorced her and ran away with that American divorcee if he had the choice. Yet, the simple thought of giving up the throne was too much. He adored the privilege and attention.

As the crowds gathered up on the street to watch the funeral procession go by, Anastasia couldn't help but hear a few boo's and hollers as her and her father's car went past. Edward scoffed as he glared out the window, "God, they don't have any remorse. The funeral hasn't even begun!" Worried, Anastasia glared over to her father, "Do they really hate us that much? All because of the incident that happened?"

He hesitantly nodded, "Quite. The public approval has been down ever since." As the crowd went past more people, more boo's and more hollers appeared. Anastasia asked hesitantly, "Well, what will happen when I inherit the throne then? Will they automatically hate me too?" He shrugged as he carried on scoffing at the spectators, "Depends if there will even be a monarchy then at that point. You know how the earth's monarchies are all coming down. Take the Romanov's for example. Don't forget Greece either."

Anastasia kept her head down the rest of the car ride, occasionally peeking up at the crowds of people. Tens and thousands of people all lined up on the side of the road to watch, as if this were some funny little show for them all.

The cars had finally arrived at Westminster Hall when Anastasia noticed the smell of cigarettes, quickly glaring over to her father, "I wish you wouldn't smoke those. It's terrible for your health and not to mention it's your son's funeral." He shook his head as he puffed out smoke, "Everybody does it, no reason to single me out."

As they stepped out of the vehicle, Anastasia glared around at the guards before walking over to her mother who was stepping out of her car. "You know I'm making you sit in the carriage right?" Mary said. Anastasia protested, "I prefer walking. I don't need to be pulled around in a cari-" Mary quickly interrupted her as she sniffled, "Please, just do this for me! I just want everything to go normal."

As she watched her brothers walk past her, she grumbled before quickly looking back at the carriage. She hesitantly walked over to it, getting in before her mother shortly followed.

"Remember, you're the heir now. If they get any photos of you, you better not be crying or smiling. No one needs a weak monarch." Mary furrowed her brow as Anastasia looked through the window of the carriage, glaring back at her brothers and her father. Anastasia always felt threatened by her brother Louis, and they both held an odd grudge against each other. A few years before she and her brother were born, they passed an act where the male would no longer automatically become the heir, even if he was younger. Louis, growing up, had always been upset about it. Not to mention that Anastasia was quite sure that other people would've preferred another male as the heir-apparent.

Catherine complained as Beatrice sat beside her, "Mummy, there's no room for Alice!" Mary leaned over and stared at Alice, who was awkwardly standing in the doorway before looking back at Anastasia. "She can sit on your lap." Anastasia quickly protested, "But the protocol-" Mary interrupted her and exclaimed, "It doesn't matter! There's no room for her." Beatrice hushed her mother, "Mummy, don't exclaim! There are representatives from other countries here."

Alice ducked as she stumbled past everyone and sat down on Anastasia's lap. The carriage began to move as Catherine asked her mother, "Don't you think it's odd that they're televising the funeral?"

Mary shrugged as she wiped her eyes with a cloth, "I don't care much." Lined along the streets were soldiers, sailors, and airmen from the British forces, standing behind them were spectators who came to observe the funeral and pay their respects.

The crowd was still and quiet, no one dared make a sound. The route was quite long, about 3 hours, yet, the crowd still showed respect by staying quiet as the coffin moved past.

Once the carriage had finally arrived at the station, Anastasia hesitantly walked out of the carriage as they began to move the coffin onto the train that was waiting to transport them to Windsor. She fumbled with her hands as she stood beside her mother, who at this point began to cry softly but tried to muffle out the sound by covering her mouth with a tissue.

As the coffin was placed in the train, her family was once again re-united inside the train. Her father grumbled as he sat down, "God, this is all some circus for the media. Why can't we just have a private funeral?" Fed up with his complaining, Mary exclaimed, "My Lord! Do you ever stop complaining? You're at your son's funeral!" She stamped her foot before she began to cry again, resting her head in her hand. Edwin butted in, "Papa, at least try to be a little less insensitive."

Edward scoffed, "Insensitive?! This is my son's funeral too! I'm not some outcast!" Anastasia scowled at their bickering, "You know, they can hear us in the other train cart!" The room went silent as they heard muffled voices coming from the nearby cart before Louis interrupted, "I think it's best if we all stay silent the rest of this trip."

After a long and silent trip, the train had arrived at Windsor. Anastasia stepped off of the train, the sun blaring in her eyes as the television cameras stood there. As they stood to watch the coffin be lowered off the train, Anastasia couldn't help but listen to the sound of the radio speaking about the scene. It was the first time she ever heard herself be called "Crown Princess" instead of just "Princess".

They once again followed the coffin to St George's chapel, walking behind it with Commonwealth realm representatives behind them. As Anastasia stood beside her father before they made their way up the stairs, she stood out of the way for her mother with her siblings following suit.

If you asked Anastasia, the ceremony was long, miserable, and boring. If you had asked her mother, then it would've been a lovely ceremony fit for a king. The last part of the ceremony was where her father, King Edward, would drop soil onto the coffin once it had been lowered into the vault.

Her father hesitantly walked over to the bishop who was holding the bowl, his hand grasped a fistful of the soil before he slowly dropped it onto the coffin below him. Anastasia had never seen her father so upset, as he had a few tears fall down his face that day. He never cried as many fathers perceive themselves to be fearless men who wouldn't dare be weak, yet, this "weak" moment brought her comfort.

Once the procession was finally completed and Anastasia had arrived home at the castle, she took off her shoes as she made her way up to her bedroom. She threw her shoes on the floor as she turned the radio on, "Sentimental Journey" began to play. Anastasia hopped over to her bed as she laid on it, but the cigarettes sitting on her desk caught her attention. She got up as she stretched her back and walked over, contemplating on whether or not to light one.

Suddenly, the doors crashed open as she looked up, "Ugh! Not now mummy!" Mary shook her head as she laid down a letter on her desk, "Your father, he approved of the marriage." Anastasia looked down at the paper before she looked up at her mother in disbelief, "Really?" Her mother grinned as she nodded, "You can read it on the paper if you'd like."

Anastasia shook her head as her smile faded, "I don't even want to marry him anymore." Mary stared with her jaw hanging open, before exclaiming, "Please, don't be so immature! You've been writing letters non-stop!" She laughed at her mother's comments as she picked up the letter and read it, "Don't call me immature. I thought if I got a nice, boring man to marry it'd keep your mouth quiet. He's not my type. He's boring, not to mention he reminds me of a Habsburg."

Mary stamped her foot as she gasped, "Don't be so rude. He's a nice and sensible young man, something that you have no experience being!" Anastasia snickered, "Of course, I haven't experienced that cause I'm not a young man."

Her mother scowled, "You know what I meant. You have to settle down one day. You're the one putting that crown on one day, not me!" Anastasia ignored her mother as picked up a cigarette, lighting it before puffing smoke out. She broke the silence as she proclaimed, "I'll get married whenever I want to and to whomever I want to."

Mary shook her head as she walked out of the room, "You'll figure it out one day."

———

A few months after the funeral, King Edward decided it was fit for Anastasia to begin re-educating herself in topics fit for the heir-apparent. An education that she was never offered, as she was one of the many spares born.

She rubbed her temple as she walked into the room, "Good evening, David." Her father shook his head as he motioned for her to sit across from him, "I've never met someone who so often calls their father by their first name." She fidgeted with her hand as she glared around the room, "Where's mama?" Her father had zoned out before he quickly snapped back into reality, hearing her daughter's question, "Oh, she's busy tonight."

Anastasia furrowed her brows as the glass beside her was filled with water, "Busy with what?" Edward shrugged, "I don't know. Possibly dealing with the mess you caused." She scoffed at her father's comment, "Please, your mess was way worse. All I did was reject a boy." He grumbled as he spoke, "You were planning on marrying him, then suddenly changed your mind."

She crossed her arms as she slumped back into her chair, "Better I told him now than have a loveless marriage, you'd be one to know what that's like." Edward stared at his daughter before shaking his head, "Watch your mouth."

He fumbled with his fork before setting it down and looking over to his daughter, "It's time for you to get a better education." Anastasia shook her head as she sipped her water, "No, the education I had was perfectly fine."

Edward sighed as he shook his head, "For the spare to the heir, perhaps it'd be fine. But now you are the heiress, you need an education that covers topics more... in-depth." She frowned as she looked down before looking back up to her father, "It's much too late for that now. I'm too old to go back to school."

He interrupted her sentence as he argued, "We'll be sending an educator to work with you, one on one. No classrooms or anything of the sort. Don't worry." Anastasia gulped as she looked down at her plate, "Was that all? The only thing you needed to tell me about?"

His eyes trailed to the side, "Well, I meant to tell you that I believe your judgment was right about that boy. Should've listened when I said no in the first place." Both Anastasia and Edward snickered as Anastasia sipped her water, "We are so much alike, aren't we? Catherine thinks I'm the favorite. She said it the day of the funeral." Edward nodded as he contemplated, "Well, all parents do have favorites, whether there'll admit it or not is up to them."

"How are you doing? Since the funeral?", Anastasia asked. He shrugged before sipping his soup, "Well, I could be better or worse. I am in-between right now. I'm sure it'll get better soon though."

She frowned as she sat her soup spoon down, "Are you sure it'll get better? Everyone keeps saying that, yet nothing changes." Edward frowned as he replied, "I wouldn't be wishing for change right now. Soon, you'll be praying to come back to this time."

Anastasia shook her head as she set her napkin on the table, "You have plenty more years left of your reign. I have lots of time." Her father knocked on the table as they both snickered, "Please, you're going to jinx it."

As the waiter took away her plate, Edward squinted his eyes, noticing Anastasia deep in thought, "Was there something else you wanted to tell me today?" She looked up, gulping before she spoke, "Well if you have a favorite child, do you not love all your children equally?" He shook his head, "Of course I love all my children, I just have a favorite." She interrupted him as she questioned, "Which is me, correct?" He nodded as he replied, "Yes. I know it should've been your brother considering he was the heir, but we are just so much alike. I know it's a horrible thing to admit, but it is true."

Anastasia smiled as she stood up, "Well, goodnight David." Edward smiled back at his daughter as she left the room, before standing up himself and exiting to his bedroom. He looked across the room to see his wife fixing her hair in her mirror, "It would've been nice if you had joined me for supper tonight."

Mary ignored his comment as she asked, "You told her about the schooling, right?" He nodded as he leaned on the doorframe, "Of course. Why wouldn't I?" She shrugged as she stood up, "I don't know. Goodnight." Mary leaned over and turned the lamp off as she crawled into her bed, Edward sighed as closed the doors to separate their rooms.

------

i am SO sorry for this chapter taking so long to come out, I've been working on 2 books at once cause I'm clearly smart enough to know that's a terrible idea. not to mention I keep wanting to read instead of write. the 2nd chapter for this book is about to be finished, and should be released soon. once again, my apologies! as always, comments and feedback are appreciated. thank you for reading this mess!