Regrets That Were Once Made

Chapter 45 ~ My Celebration

1st of August 1795

~George's pov~

Exactly 19 years ago I married Y/N. And despite that day being almost 2 decades ago, I remember almost every detail.

It was the day I finally got to say that Y/N was mine. The day that I'd finally know that I wasn't going to be alone forever. Little did I know, that 19 years later I'd be crying over her corpse.

I didn't want any of this to be true. I just wanted Y/N to just suddenly wake up and be alive. I don't care if she hates me and runs away, I just want to have the joy of knowing that she's alive.

I know she tried to kill me, but I was the person who drove her to such insanity. I was the one who ruined her dreams to fulfil mine. She had given me a family to protect, something other than people who curse my name to cherish. I wasn't wrong when I said that I was known as the King with an empty bed and an empty crib.

But I ruined it all, not noticing how everything I had done for the past 19 years, had been tearing away at Y/N's sanity. And now I pay the price, the cost of getting everything you ever dreamed of.

I moved my hand towards Y/N and stroked it gently. Her whole body was still, everything from her head to her toes was chillingly frozen. But I stayed near her coffin just in case. Because maybe, just maybe, Y/N was just sleeping. Maybe she would wake up and everything would be just a little joke her and Frederick had planned.

At least then I could laugh and hold Y/N again. We could go back to life before and be a happy and perfect family. It was just like before, she'd come back into my arms and we'd never have to cry again.

I just wanted the tears falling from my eyes to wipe away and the clenching feeling in my heart to fade away. But nothing could, I could only wait and hope that something could happen.

Of course, this wasn't just for me, I knew that my children would be as equally as devastated as me. I mean they always were much closer to her, especially Frederick. She was their saviour in life from me, the person who was the reason they couldn't be normal. I knew they hated royal life, and I wouldn't blame them. But I couldn't do anything as much as I wanted to. I was the King, I couldn't just abandon my duties.

But sometimes I did imagine what it would have been like if I wasn't the King. What happens if I was a commoner as well? Maybe Y/N and I could live in America together, we'd have a family together and get to be happy. A small little house and a bakery were we'd sell food for everyone. We wouldn't be rich in money but we'd be rich in happiness.

I'd take Charles to school and get to see him be with other kids. Matilda wouldn't have to marry and instead could explore her passions. And Frederick, my firstborn son wouldn't have the burden of being King. He'd marry whoever he wanted and he would get to live freely.

And Y/N, well I could finally make her smile truthfully. It would be her holding her hate in, it would be her smiling with the intent that she loved me.

I really wish that was how it was, but it wasn't. Y/N was gone and so was my chance at being happy. I just wished I had waited and hadn't just forced Y/N into a life so strange to her.

I just wished that I was never made to be King.

~Frederick's pov~

Staring from afar I watched my father cry over the person who I thought loved me. Today would've been my wedding, but instead a day of grieving. Everyone, in fact, was devastated. My father, Charles, Matilda and most of the servants.

Someone who was almost universally loved, now lay rest in her coffin. And yet no emotion even wondered my soul. She was my mother and yet I felt as if nothing had happened. In fact, I was always so close to her, she was the person I relied on ever since I was born.

But now that I knew what she thought of me, no tears were falling down my face. Which was unlike my other siblings. Charles and Matilda where distraught, ever since we had told them of my mother's death, they had been crying and calling out her name. But if they had heard what she had said that day, would they be crying out for her, or despising her very name.

I always thought my father was the villain, but it turns out it was my mother. The person who supposedly loved me unconditionally. I felt even worse about what I said to my father about no one loving him, because in truth no one really loved me either.

My mother didn't want to give birth to me, she didn't even want any of this. And yet I was naive enough to believe that she loved me and cherished my existence. But she didn't, because I was the one thing in her life keeping her to a life she hated.

And now because of her not wanting this life of being my father's wife or being my mother. She killed herself, and even though she was the one to take herself to death, I felt partly responsible. I shouldn't but yet I do.

Whether my mother was in the wrong for trying to kill my father or couldn't bring myself to despise her. Of course, I didn't love her as I did before. But I don't think she deserves to be hated, as much as really wanted to.