Chapter 3: Uninvited Crowns

Mary woke with a profound sense of peace, feeling more refreshed than she had in months. The deep, uninterrupted sleep had washed away her exhaustion. Stepping out of bed, she glided over to the window and drew back the curtains. Below her lay the sprawling, sun-drenched city of Kingston. A wave of pure happiness washed over her; a quiet realization settled in her chest that she had finally made it.

She was so absorbed in the view that she didn't hear Arthur approach. He paused at the open door, leaning against the frame as he watched her silhouette against the morning light. A quiet warmth filled him as he admired her.

Sensing a presence, Mary turned around. "How long have you been standing there?" she asked, a soft smile playing on her lips.

"Long enough to see how beautiful you actually are," Arthur replied smoothly.

A flush of pink crept into Mary’s cheeks, and her expression softened. "Thank you."

"I made you some coffee," he said, gesturing back toward the hallway. "Come join me in the kitchen."

"Let's go," she agreed, matching his pace as they walked down the hall together.

They settled into the quiet comfort of the kitchen, cradling their warm mugs. Arthur took a sip of his coffee before breaking the silence. "So, I was thinking of showing you around today. You know, give you a proper tour."

Mary’s eyes lit up. "Oh, I'd love that! But don't you have work?"

"Don't worry about that," Arthur dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I've taken care of it."

"Oh, well then..." She leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "When were you planning to show me around?"

"Right after coffee."

"No problem at all," Mary smiled.

"Perfect. I'll go get ready," Arthur said, setting his empty mug in the sink. "Meet me downstairs when you're done with everything."

"Will do," she murmured.

Arthur headed upstairs to the bathroom to take a shower. Once Mary finished the last of her coffee, she walked up to the guest bathroom to freshen up. Passing by his room, she noticed his bathroom door was left slightly ajar. Through the narrow gap, she caught a fleeting glimpse of Arthur. Her breath caught slightly; she couldn't deny how handsome he was, or notice how well-built he was. Flushing at her own boldness, she quickly averted her eyes and hurried to her room, her heart beating a little faster.

The brief moment changed something inside her. Standing in front of her closet, she found herself carefully sorting through her options, determined to pick an exceptionally good outfit now that she realized just how much she liked him.

Once dressed and ready, she made her way downstairs. Arthur was already waiting for her at the bottom of the steps. He looked up, his eyes widening slightly.

"You are gorgeous, Mary," he said genuinely.

"Thank you," she replied, offering a playful, polite nod. "You look very good too, sir."

They exchanged a warm, shared smile before stepping out into the morning air. Arthur unlocked the car, and they set off into the heart of Kingston. They spent the rest of the day lost in the city—driving through vibrant neighborhoods, stopping at local spots to sample different kinds of food, and exploring the sights together.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of laughter and effortless conversation. For Arthur, the day felt entirely different from his usual routine. He was constantly expected to be poised, civil, and perfectly classy, but Mary had a way of coaxing out his inner child. She brought a lightness into his world that he hadn't realized he was missing. For Mary, it was exactly what she needed. She found herself falling for Arthur in every possible way. The attentive way he looked at her, the gentle way he touched her arm, and how important he made her feel—she loved all of it.

As evening began to color the sky, Arthur turned to her with a spark of excitement in his eyes. "There's one more place I'd like to show you."

"Really?" Mary asked, looking over at him.

"Yeah. Trust me, you'll love it."

"Okay, let's go," she said, leaning back into her seat.

Arthur drove them up a winding path to his personal sanctuary: a secluded cliffside overlooking the city. It was the place he always escaped to whenever he wanted to sit in peace and watch the twinkling city lights melt into the stars. After parking, he pulled a thick blanket from the backseat and smoothed it out across the grass. They sat down side by side, taking in the panoramic view.

"Wow..." Mary breathed, her voice filled with awe. "This place is incredible."

"I knew you'd like it," Arthur replied softly, watching her reaction.

"I love it, Arthur."

Arthur looked out over the horizon. "I've never brought anyone to this place before, you know."

Mary blinked, turning her head to meet his gaze. "Really?"

"Yes," he said, his voice dropping to a serious, tender tone. "You're the only person. You must be really special."

A warm thrill rushed through her. "I feel special. You make me feel special."

Arthur smiled, looking deeply into her eyes before leaning back. They both laid down on their backs, staring up at the vast, shimmering sky. A comfortable silence fell over them. Mary turned her head to study Arthur's profile in the starlight, wondering to herself how she could possibly be so lucky to end up with such a wonderful guy.

As if sensing her thoughts, Arthur rolled onto his side to face her. "You know, Mary, there’s really something different about you. You're the only person who makes me feel so safe. It's strange, because I never trust someone so easily. But with you, it's different. I'm different. What are the odds of that?"

Mary’s heart swelled; she couldn't believe what he had just said. "Arthur..." she whispered, overwhelmed.

"You don't have to say anything," he interrupted gently.

The air between them grew charged and still. They froze, locked in each other's gaze, the physical distance between them evaporating second by second. When their lips finally met in a slow, tender kiss, a wave of intense emotion crashed over Mary. Her cheeks burned bright red, and a single, silent tear spilled over her eyelashes, tracing a path down her face.

Arthur pulled back slightly, his expression shifting to concern. "Hey... are you okay?"

Mary gave a small, breathless nod. "Yes. This was my first kiss."

A soft, understanding smile touched Arthur's lips. He reached up, using the pad of his thumb to gently wipe the tear from her cheek before cradling her face in his hands. He leaned back in, and they kissed again—this time deeper, sending a magical spark through them both.

When Arthur finally pulled back, his voice was thick with emotion. "Let's go home."

Mary nodded in agreement. Together, they gathered the blanket and walked back to the car. The drive back to the house passed in an expectant, heavy silence.

The moment they stepped through the front door, the restraint they had maintained all day snapped. They began kissing passionately in the entryway. Losing himself in the moment, Arthur scooped Mary up into his arms, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her up the stairs and into his bedroom without breaking the kiss.

Slowly, deliberately, they undressed each other between breathless kisses. Arthur trailed his lips down from her mouth, kissing her neck, her arms, and down her body, making her feel completely worshiped. When they were finally uncovered, Arthur paused, taking a deliberate moment just to look at her and adore her. To him, she was absolutely perfect.

He moved over her, bringing his face close to hers as he hovered above. "Are you sure?" he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.

Mary nodded without a second thought. Holding onto him tightly, they surrendered to a passionate night together.

The next morning, the bedroom was bathed in a gentle, warm light. Arthur stirred first, a contented smile touching his lips as he looked down at Mary resting beside him. He pulled her a little closer. "I could get used to this," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

Mary blinked open her eyes, offering a sleepy smile. "What?"

"Waking up to you," he whispered.

Before Mary could respond, a sudden, violent wave of nausea hit her. Her eyes widened in panic, and she threw back the blankets, sprinting across the room to the adjoining bathroom. She collapsed by the toilet, retching. Arthur was on his feet in an instant, rushing to her side to gently hold her hair back, his expression full of concern.

"Are you okay, dear?" he asked, rubbing her back.

Mary leaned back against the wall, catching her breath. "I'm... okay. Uhm..."

"You'll have to go see the doctor," Arthur insisted, his brows furrowed.

"No, I'm fine," she insisted weakly, trying to brush it off. "It's probably just something I ate."

"Mary, I'm not gonna take a no for an answer," Arthur said firmly, taking her hand. "Please."

Seeing the genuine worry in his eyes, she relented with a soft sigh. "Fine. I'll go, but you can stay here."

"Alright then," Arthur said, a look of relief washing over his face. "I'll have breakfast ready when you get back. Go take a quick shower."

Mary nodded, turning on the water. After a hot shower that did little to ease the strange fluttering in her stomach, she dressed quickly and headed out to the clinic.

While Mary was away, Arthur’s worst nightmare was quietly making its way up to his front door. Princess Isabella had arrived.

She pushed the door open, stepping into the modern space with a slow, calculating grace. Her sharp eyes swept across the room, taking in every detail of the apartment with unvarnished disapproval.

Arthur froze the moment he saw her. "Isabella... what are you doing here?"

"Greetings to you, Arthur," Isabella replied, her tone dripping with aristocratic coldness. She crossed her arms. "I think I should be asking you that question."

"Isa, please..." Arthur groaned, running a hand through his hair.

"Arthur, what is wrong with you?" she demanded, her voice rising. "Why did you leave Camelot? To come here and buy a regular apartment?"

"I can't do this anymore, Isabella," Arthur snapped, his usual composure cracking. "I'm tired. I'm tired of everyone trying to dictate my life."

Isabella scoffed, stepping closer. "Well then, Arthur, running away isn't the solution. You acted like a foolish man."

"What was I supposed to do?" he yelled back, gesturing to the space around them.

"One doesn't run from reality, Arthur," Isabella said coldly, her voice cutting through the room like ice. "You just accept it and make peace with it."

While the heavy argument echoed through the apartment, Mary was walking up the building's steps, her heart hammering against her ribs with pure excitement. She had big news—monumental news. The doctor had confirmed it: she was pregnant. A dizzying happiness enveloped her, and she couldn't wait to see Arthur's face when she told him.

As she approached the driveway, she noticed several sleek, luxurious cars parked outside. She frowned, but the sheer excitement of her secret pushed the thought aside. Hurrying up to the apartment door, she paused. From inside, the muffled sound of heated, arguing voices leaked through the wood. She couldn't make out the exact words, but the anger in the tone was unmistakable.

Anxiety replacing her excitement, Mary quietly turned the handle and stepped into the apartment.

The argument cut off instantly. Isabella’s sharp gaze snapped to the doorway, scanning Mary from head to toe with immediate disdain. "Who is this?" Isabella demanded.

Mary’s throat went completely dry. "I..."

"She is my servant," Arthur interjected quickly, his voice tight and forced. He didn't look Mary in the eyes as the words left his mouth. "She was sent by my parents." He then turned a stiff, formal shoulder to Mary, gesturing to the elegant woman beside him. "This is Princess Isabella."

The words struck Mary like a physical blow. She felt instantly shattered, completely frozen in place as a heavy, suffocating silence filled the room. She stood there, her mind spinning, completely stripped of any words to defend herself. The one person she had trusted above all others—the man she had shared everything with just hours prior—had just betrayed her in the most humiliating way possible.

Isabella smoothed down her dress, entirely dismissive of Mary’s presence. "His future wife and the future queen of Camelot," she added with a smug smile, treating Mary like part of the furniture. "I'd love a cup of tea."

Mary stood completely still, looking hollow and dead inside.

"Uhm, no," Arthur said quickly, his voice cracking slightly as he finally glanced at Mary. "She only serves me. My apologies."

Even as he tried to cover his tracks, Arthur could see the raw, bleeding pain flashing in Mary's eyes. A crushing weight settled in his chest, and he could feel his own heart breaking at the sight of what he had just done.

The lie hung heavily in the air. Mary stood completely frozen, staring at Arthur as her world splintered into a million pieces. The man she trusted more than anyone else in the world had just dismissed her like an object in front of his pristine princess.

"Excuse me," Mary choked out, her voice barely a whisper as she forced her trembling legs to move. "It was nice meeting you."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and fled. She rushed up the stairs to her bedroom, slammed the heavy door shut, and turned the lock. Collapsing onto the floor, the dam broke, and she let out a cascade of quiet, painful tears, cradling her stomach.

Downstairs, Arthur watched the staircase, his heart hammering against his ribs in a panic. He turned to the princess, his voice tight. "I will come back, Isabella. Please, just give me some time."

Isabella smoothed her gown, entirely unfazed by the sudden departure. "I'll give you until next week, Arthur," she said, her tone sharp and unyielding. "If you don't make it back home by then, I'll marry your brother instead. He will take over. Remember, Arthur—this is your kingdom. Your legacy. Don't let your people die."

With that final, chilling ultimatum, Isabella turned on her heel and swept out of the apartment.

The moment the front door clicked shut, Arthur sprinted up the stairs. He threw himself against Mary’s door, rattling the handle, but found it firmly locked. "Mary... I'm so sorry," he pleaded, pressing his forehead against the wood.

"Go away, Arthur!" she cried from the other side.

"Please open the door for me," he begged, his voice cracking. "I can explain."

With a sudden burst of hurt and anger, Mary twisted the lock and yanked the door open. She stood there, her eyes red and furious. "Explain what, Arthur?! That I'm just your servant? That I don't really mean anything to you?!"

"Mary, please, you have to understand," Arthur said, reaching out a hand only for her to flinch away. "I'm a prince. Prince Arthur. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I wanted to..."

"What?" Mary snapped, her breath hitching.

"Yes... I was going to tell you," he stammered, the weight of his royal blood suddenly feeling like a cage.

"Who is she?" Mary demanded, gesturing toward the stairs.

Arthur lowered his gaze, unable to look her in the eye. "She's the person I'm supposed to marry."

Mary let out a bitter, disbelieving laugh, shaking her head as fresh tears spilled over. "Oh my god. I should've known. You're too good to be true... Arthur, I trusted you. I really did."

"I'm sorry, Mary," Arthur cried, taking a step forward, his voice raw with desperation. "You're the one I love."

"Love?" Mary threw the word back at him like a weapon. "You lied, Arthur! You lied to me. You are not the one who should be talking about love right now!"

"Mary, you don't underst—"

"I think I do," she interrupted, her voice breaking into a sob. "You are going to leave me for her!"

"Mary, I didn't want to ruin..."

"I'm pregnant, Arthur!" Mary shouted.

Arthur froze entirely. The words seemed to echo in the quiet room, stealing the breath right from his lungs. He stood paralyzed, his mind completely blank as he stared at her. In an instant, the sheer gravity of everything hit him at once. He saw the profound destruction and hurt in Mary's eyes, he thought about the baby, and a wave of intense self-loathing washed over him. He absolutely hated himself in that exact moment.

"I'm pregnant," Mary repeated, her voice wincing, reduced to a fragile, broken cry as she turned away from him.

Unable to face the damage he had caused, Arthur turned around. With tears finally blurring his own vision, he walked out of the room in absolute silence. He hurried downstairs, threw open the front door, and practically ran to his car. Gunning the engine, he tore down the driveway and drove away into the Kingston streets, leaving everything behind