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Windsor Castle - Evening

The grand halls of Windsor Castle were filled with quiet, as Margaret stood at the top of the sweeping staircase, gazing out the window. She watched as her sisters' cars pulled into the drive below, a mix of anticipation and nerves evident in her posture. Dressed in a simple yet elegant evening gown, she looked every bit the poised princess, though her heart was racing.

Peter Townsend, freshly dressed and ready for the evening, walked up the stairs to meet her. He approached with a gentle smile, sensing her unease. Margaret glanced at him, offering a small, uncertain smile.

"It will be fine," Peter reassured her softly.

Margaret nodded, drawing a steadying breath. "Come on," she replied, her voice soft yet determined as they descended the staircase together, prepared for the evening ahead.

The Dining Room

In the richly appointed dining room, the royal family members were seated around the table. Soft candlelight illuminated the room, casting a warm glow over everyone as butlers moved quietly, pouring drinks and setting plates. Elizabeth sat beside Andreas, who looked composed yet slightly restless, while Anastasia shared a quiet moment with Philip. There was a palpable tension in the air, each person aware of the importance of the evening yet uncertain of how the conversation might unfold.

Margaret took a quick glance around the table before addressing the butlers. She lifted her chin slightly, her voice steady.

"We'd like to be left alone now," she said, her tone polite but firm.

The head butler nodded, replying with a respectful, "Yes, ma'am."

Another butler approached Peter, holding a bottle of champagne, ready to refill his glass, but Margaret intervened with a quick, "Just leave it, thank you."

The butlers exchanged glances before stepping back, quietly retreating from the room and leaving the family alone. As the doors closed, a silence settled over the group, thick with anticipation. Margaret glanced nervously around the table, noticing that Elizabeth and Anastasia exchanged subtle looks, each sensing the gravity of the moment.

Philip and Andreas, sensing the tension, both reached for their spoons, intending to start their meal. But before either could take a bite, Anastasia caught their eye, giving them a pointed look.

"Excuse me," Philip muttered, dropping his spoon with a small, sheepish smile.

Andreas rolled his eyes discreetly, giving Anastasia a half-smile as if to say he'd rather get this evening over with and go home.

Margaret took a deep breath, straightening in her chair as she began.

"I asked you here tonight because..." she started, her voice slightly shaky but growing stronger with each word, "there is something I wanted to discuss with you."

Elizabeth and Anastasia leaned in slightly, their expressions composed but attentive. Margaret continued, her voice gaining steadiness as she spoke.

"I think you already know that over the years, with Peter being so much part of our family, and away from his own so much, a friendship has developed between us."

She paused, her gaze moving from Elizabeth to Anastasia. "And then, ever since Papa's death hit me so hard, and with your succession and coronation keeping you more and more occupied..." Her eyes lingered on Elizabeth for a moment before shifting to Anastasia. "...and with the birth of the twins keeping you busier than ever, Peter has become almost my sole companion, and I his."

Elizabeth and Anastasia exchanged a look, a subtle yet meaningful acknowledgment passing between them. Anastasia took a slow sip of her drink, processing Margaret's words as the reality of the situation began to sink in.

Margaret took another deep breath, steadying herself. "And so, when his divorce came through in December last year, I suppose it was only natural that we both started thinking about what kind of... future we might have together. And we reached a decision in April, wasn't it?" She glanced at Peter, who gave her a gentle nod of encouragement.

Margaret's lips curved into a soft smile, her eyes briefly alight with joy. "Just before the coronation... that one day... we wanted to..." She paused, looking down for a moment, then back up with a shy smile. "Well, you know..."

Elizabeth and Anastasia, catching the hint, spoke almost in unison. "Marry?"

Margaret laughed lightly, the sound full of happiness. "Yes."

Anastasia let out a quiet exclamation. "Goodness," she murmured, sharing a small smile with Andreas, who observed Peter with a scrutinizing look, his brow slightly furrowed.

Margaret, feeling the weight of her family's scrutiny, tried to stay composed, but the tension in the room was unmistakable. "Well, of course, we're aware of the complications and issues at stake."

She glanced around, catching sight of the various expressions on her family members' faces. Noticing their guarded reactions, she grew visibly anxious. "Oh, girls, you've known for a while about Peter and I. This can't really be a terrible shock to you."

Elizabeth smiled gently, trying to ease her sister's nerves. "No, not at all. It's wonderful."

Peter, sensing the moment, reached over and took Margaret's hand, his gesture tender and supportive. "Is there anything you'd like to ask us?" he offered, his voice calm and respectful.

Andreas, sitting across from them, raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with a hint of dry humor. "Does your wife know?"

Margaret corrected him quickly, her voice firm. "No, ex-wife."

Peter nodded, his tone composed. "She does. We had a frank conversation. There is no animosity."

Philip chimed in, his tone practical, if not a bit amused. "Oh, good." He paused, leaning forward slightly. "And the boys?"

Peter's face softened. "They know and seem very happy."

Margaret, emboldened by the acceptance she was receiving, looked directly at Elizabeth. "So... do I have your permission? As Sovereign?"

Elizabeth's expression grew more serious, the weight of her role pressing down on her. She looked to Anastasia for a moment, seeking support. Anastasia avoided her gaze, but her expression was contemplative, aware of the delicate nature of the situation.

Elizabeth turned back to Margaret, her voice careful. "Oh. Well... of course, I'll have to take advice... on the how's and where's and... all official matters, but if it's what you desire..."

Margaret's face lit up, her voice earnest. "More than anything in the world."

Elizabeth's resolve softened, and she gave her sister a small, warm smile. "Then as your sister, I'm never going to oppose it."

Overwhelmed with emotion, Margaret jumped up from her chair and rushed to Elizabeth, embracing her and planting a kiss on her cheek. "Oh, thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I'm so happy. I'm so happy."

Anastasia stayed in her seat, watching Margaret. She took a slow sip from her glass, content to observe as Margaret expressed her excitement.

Philip, watching the touching scene unfold, rose from his seat and extended a hand to Peter. "Oh, well. Congratulations, both of you."

Peter shook his hand gratefully, nodding. "Thank you, sir."

Philip paused, considering his words for a moment before giving Peter a smile. "I suppose it had better be 'Philip' from now on."

Andreas, standing next to Philip, gave a small nod," Welcome to the family on a first-name basis, Peter," he added, extending his own hand.

Peter smiled, visibly moved by the gesture. "Thank you... Philip. And Andreas."

The Departure - Car

The evening at Windsor Castle had been both a surprising and lively one, with Margaret's announcement lingering in the minds of the royal family members as they bid their goodbyes. As they walked down the steps from the castle, Andreas offered a polite bow to Elizabeth and Philip, while Anastasia gave her sisters one last hug. The royals exchanged quiet smiles, each returning to their respective vehicles, the evening's events still echoing in their minds.

In the car, the soft hum of the engine filled the silence as Andreas and Anastasia settled into the plush seats. The roads were quiet, with only the occasional street lamp casting its glow across the darkened landscape. For a moment, there was only the soft sound of the tires on the gravel drive as they left Windsor behind. But the silence in the car quickly grew tense.

Andreas leaned back, his gaze fixed out the window, before he turned to his wife, breaking the silence with a probing question.

"You knew?" His voice was calm, but the edge in his tone was unmistakable.

Anastasia's lips tightened, a hint of guilt flickering across her face. She hesitated before answering, her voice soft but measured. "Not the extent of it," she admitted, glancing down at her hands.

Andreas studied her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I can't believe Margaret would want to marry him," he said, his voice dripping with skepticism. "Peter Townsend is too old for her, Ana. And if they go through with this, it'll create a scandal. The press will have a field day-'Princess in Love with Divorced Commoner,'" he added, rolling his eyes at the thought. "Is that really what she wants?"

Anastasia leaned her head back, looking away briefly before turning to face him. "Are you sure it's just because you dislike him that you're saying all of this?" Her voice was calm, but there was a challenge in her eyes.

Andreas sighed, running a hand over his face in frustration. "It's not just that," he said, his tone softening slightly. "Look, he might be a good man, but he's not suitable for her. You saw the way everyone reacted tonight. This isn't the sort of match the royal family should entertain. And if Margaret were to actually go through with this, Elizabeth would be left in an impossible position."

Anastasia raised an eyebrow, watching him carefully. "It's Elizabeth's choice as Sovereign to make that decision," she reminded him, her tone diplomatic yet firm.

Andreas shook his head, clearly frustrated. "And it's your job, as her sister, to make sure Margaret makes the right decisions. She needs people around her who won't encourage her whims. But instead..." He trailed off, his gaze dark and contemplative as he looked out the window.

Anastasia remained silent for a moment, digesting his words as the car rolled smoothly down the dark road. After a few moments, she spoke, her voice calm but resolute. "Margaret may be young, but she deserves the chance to make her own choices. She's lived her entire life under the shadow of the Crown. It's only natural that she'd want a measure of happiness."

Andreas turned sharply, his eyes flashing. "A measure of happiness is one thing. But what about responsibility? The country is already questioning Elizabeth's ability to rule. If she allows her sister to marry a divorced commoner, one with children, mind you, the press will tear them both apart. And the people... they won't stand for it. They already doubt her. If she approves of this, they'll be calling for her abdication."

Anastasia looked away, her jaw tightening as Andreas's words hung heavy in the air. She knew he wasn't wrong-there was a line between royal duty and personal happiness, and Margaret was dangerously close to crossing it. But at the same time, she couldn't help but feel sympathy for her younger sister, who had always felt the constraints of royal expectations more keenly than anyone else.

"Margaret isn't like the rest of us," Andreas continued, his voice cutting through her thoughts. "She's in too much of a hurry-always pushing boundaries, breaking rules. She thinks she can have it both ways, but she can't. The only way she could ever marry Townsend would be to leave the family altogether. But we both know she'd never give up her titles, her privileges... the life she loves."

Anastasia's gaze softened as she watched him, seeing the frustration in his eyes. "You think she's being selfish?"

Andreas shrugged, leaning back in his seat. "I think she's blinded by infatuation. And I think Elizabeth has a responsibility, as Queen, to protect the institution. Allowing Margaret to marry Townsend could threaten the very foundation of the monarchy. The Church of England won't approve. Elizabeth is the head of the church. How would it look for her to sanction such a marriage?"

The car continued along the darkened road, the tension between them growing with every word. Anastasia looked out the window, her thoughts conflicted. She understood the importance of the monarchy, of upholding the image. But she also understood Margaret's longing for a life of her own choosing, a life not dictated by titles and expectations.

When they finally arrived at Kensington Palace, the quiet staff awaited them, ready to see them in. Andreas stepped out first, nodding briskly at the waiting footman before turning to help Anastasia out of the car.

Kensington Palace - Anastasia's Private Chambers

Once inside her chambers, Anastasia's ladies-in-waiting moved gracefully around her, assisting her out of her gown and into her evening robe. The grand, luxurious room was filled with soft lighting, and the air was scented with lavender from the warm bath that had been drawn for her. Despite the calming atmosphere, she felt anything but at ease.

The ladies helped her sit at her vanity, carefully removing her jewelry and undoing the elaborate hairstyle that had adorned her head all evening. Andreas stood by the door, his arms crossed as he watched her in the mirror, the look of frustration still etched on his face.

Anastasia met his gaze through the mirror, sensing he had more to say. She dismissed her ladies-in-waiting with a soft word, watching as they curtsied and left the room, leaving the two of them alone.

"Are you going to continue to brood?" she asked.

Andreas shook his head, letting out a sigh. "I'm just worried about what this means. For all of us. Margaret is impulsive. She doesn't see the consequences of her actions. And if Elizabeth gives her blessing, it could be disastrous."

Anastasia turned to face him fully, her expression serious. "Margaret is young, yes, and she can be impulsive. But she's also her own person, Andreas. She's not bound to make decisions solely to preserve the monarchy."

Andreas looked at her, his gaze hard. "And yet, that's exactly what you do, every day. You put the monarchy above everything else-above us, even."

Anastasia stepped forward, reaching for his hand. "I chose this life. Just as you did. We made a choice to serve, to support Elizabeth and uphold the responsibilities we were born into. But Margaret... she didn't choose this. Not in the same way."

Andreas pulled his hand away, pacing the room. "It's more than that. If Margaret marries him, it'll be seen as a failure on Elizabeth's part. The country is already questioning her leadership, questioning her youth, her judgment. This marriage would give her critics ammunition. They'd say she's too weak to control her own family, let alone the country."

Anastasia's face hardened, though her voice remained calm. "Elizabeth is not weak. And I believe she'll make the decision that's right for Margaret and for the Crown. She's proven time and again that she is capable."

Andreas shook his head, a bitter smile crossing his lips. "I just don't want to see everything we've worked for fall apart because of one person's foolishness."

Anastasia regarded him silently for a moment, understanding his fears. "Margaret will make her choice," she said softly. "And whatever happens, we'll face it. Just as we always have."

Andreas gave her a reluctant nod, his expression softening just a fraction. He reached out, brushing a stray curl from her face before leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"Let's hope, for all our sakes, that she chooses wisely," he murmured.

He gave her a kiss on the lips and with that, he left the room.

Windsor Castle - Next Morning

The morning sunlight filtered gently into Margaret's bedroom as her lady-in-waiting entered, pulling back the heavy curtains with a quiet, practiced grace. Margaret stirred under the covers, blinking slowly as the harshness of daylight crept into her eyes, remnants of the night before evident in her sluggish movements.

"Your Royal Highness?" the lady-in-waiting spoke softly, trying not to startle her. "Her Majesty the Queen for you, Your Royal Highness. On the telephone."

Margaret groaned, rubbing her temples as she pushed herself up, tossing her hair back in an effort to look at least somewhat composed. As the lady-in-waiting left the room, Margaret took a steadying breath, reaching for the telephone on her bedside table and holding it up to her ear.

"Hello," she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.

On the other end of the line, Elizabeth's voice came through, clear and calm. She was seated at her desk in Buckingham Palace, paperwork scattered in front of her. "Hello, you," she greeted, a hint of warmth softening her tone. "Bad time, good time?"

Margaret, now more awake, smiled to herself, leaning back against the pillows. "Good time. Always."

Elizabeth hesitated, a gentle seriousness coming into her voice. "Look, I've been wracking my brain about how I can best help you. Now, you know that the Church of England doesn't permit the remarriage of divorced persons if the husband or wife of the former marriage is still alive."

"Yes, I'm well aware," Margaret replied, a slight edge to her tone as she lit a cigarette and glanced toward the window, savoring the quiet moment.

Elizabeth continued, carefully choosing her words. "Well, I was just wondering if you and Peter had considered Scotland?"

Margaret's brow furrowed as she exhaled a plume of smoke. "To live?" she asked, half-laughing at the thought.

"No, for the wedding," Elizabeth clarified. There was a hint of amusement in her voice but also a sense of resolve.

Margaret sat up a bit straighter, intrigued but cautious. "Why? Because it would be more low-profile?"

Elizabeth's tone softened as she explained further. "Well, actually, I was thinking of legal reasons. Marriage isn't regarded as a sacrament in the Church of Scotland. It's not as binding in the same way as here."

Margaret's eyes lit up with the hint of a smile as she processed her sister's words, the possibility unfolding before her. "Meaning, meaning we could even get married in a church?"

Elizabeth's voice held a note of cautious optimism. "Well, I'd have to check, but I think so."

A sense of relief and excitement washed over Margaret, and she let out a small laugh, her gratitude evident. "That would be so lovely. Lilibet, thank you so much."

Elizabeth, though stoic, allowed herself a brief smile. "It would make my life a lot easier too," she admitted.

Margaret looked toward the open door of her room, noticing their mother, the Queen Mother, bustling in the hallway, evidently preparing for an outing. She realized, with a pang of guilt, that this situation had caused complications for Elizabeth-and their mother wasn't likely to let it rest.

"Sorry, Lilibet," Margaret murmured, her voice softening.

Elizabeth, sensing the weight of Margaret's apology, frowned slightly. "What for?"

Margaret sighed, her gaze drifting out the window. "I think you're going to get a visit from Mummy about all this."

A small pause on the other end as Elizabeth absorbed this information. "Oh," she replied, a bit more reserved.

"I realize I'm not making anyone's life easy. Yours especially," Margaret continued, the genuine regret in her tone unmistakable.

Elizabeth's voice softened with understanding. "But I'm determined to do this for you. To give you what you want."

Margaret's face softened, and she clutched the phone a little tighter, her voice filled with appreciation. "Thank you. I can't wait to tell Peter."

Elizabeth exhaled, her voice becoming more formal once again, though warmth remained. "I'd better go."

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