For those wondering, the story takes place in 2015 :)
2012
Stuart
"Miss Stuart?" Someone called, making me turn around with dread. I was just about to go home.
"Do I know you?" I asked the man with politeness, although I was slightly annoyed. He seemed to be a professor, although he might as well have been a creep, judging by the way he kept looking at me in something that resembled disbelief and amazement.
"I am professor Miles Donovan and I teach history. I was wondering if we could talk?" I rose a skeptical eyebrow at him, clearly not interested in whatever he had to say.
"About what? With all due respect, professor Donovan, I don't think we have anything to discuss." Discreetly, I looked down at his hands, trying to find a wedding ring, and I felt slightly relieved once I found one. My suspicious of him being a perverted didn't subside entirely, but I got calmer.
"Sorry, I didn't explain it entirely. I have been developing a large and detailed research on your family's history, and maybe you could add some new information to my files?" He asked with hope. I looked around, trying to find something to prevent that conversation from happening, but no one paid attention. My total lack of friends inside that institution couldn't have been worse for me as I tried to get away from the insistent man.
"Professor Donovan, I don't know if I will have much to say." I tried to reason with him, feeling my throat clogging with desperation. I really didn't want to pretend I had no idea what he was talking about.
"Please, I promise it won't take long." Sighing, I nodded, making him smile. I was still getting the weird vibes, but dodging his questions would only cause a fuss.
"My office is just down the hall. Can you follow me?"
"Sure." I mumbled grumpily. Inside my head, I was going through my story. Charlotte Elizabeth Stuart, born in London. One sister named Sienna Grey, dead father. It was gonna work out, I chanted inside my head.
Professor Donovan opened the door and allowed me inside, both of us silently looking around his mess. Endless sheets of paper atop his desk, scattered books and too many empty coffee cups. I would've been more surprised if all the chaotic energy emanating from him didn't translate into a messy workspace.
"Sorry about the mess. I've been spending a lot of time in here." He spoke, blushing. Professor Donovan tried to remove some things until a chair was freed, clearly a silent offer for me.
"Please sit down. I promise it won't take long." I sighed and complied, placing my bag on the floor. There was an awkward tension filling the room, and I was not about to break it. I just wanted to get rid of that man as fast as possible.
"Just to check, is your full name Charlotte Elizabeth Stuart?"
"Yeah. If you have my college file, it's all correct." I told him, trying to sound less bitchy. It wasn't his fault, he was just going on with his life and trying to come up with a meaningful research topic, but I couldn't help myself. Having someone who could potentially threat my secure life brought out the worst in me. He probably just thought I was entitled, spoiled by rich parents.
"Okay then." He spoke, clearing his throat and trying to send me a half smile, although I didn't reciprocate.
"Can you tell me about your childhood, miss Stuart? I will be recording." He placed his phone atop the papers and I shrugged. My childhood had been spent running around a castle and finding secret passages along with Layla and Eleanor. Memories I was not willing to share with professor nosy.
"Pretty standard. Sienna and I are almost the same age, which was nice, considering I had someone to play with." I spoke, not giving much away.
"What about your family? I understand you have always been financially blessed, which also had to do with your father being a Stuart."
"My father passed away before I was born. Aside that, I only realised we had some royal ascendency by the time I was twelve or something. The money has always been good, obviously, but I don't think it has anything to do with our remote family." Once again he had that weird look on his face, looking at me with amazement. The more I lied, the more his expression shifted into admiration, which didn't make any sense.
"Professor Donovan, I don't wanna sound rude, but I think you're trying too hard on this one. Just because I have ancestors who were royals, it doesn't mean I have anything special to add to this research of yours." I spoke, making him stop the recording immediately.
"Can I show you something I came upon during my research?" He asked, as if I had a saying in that situation.
"Sure." He got up and opened a cabinet, retrieving a large file. My heart was starting to best faster, mainly because I had no idea why that man came up to me in the first place. Clearly he had a purpose, one very well documented at that.
"Recently, all of the paintings in possession of royal families have been digitalised. The contents of the website are not available for the public, but if you're doing a serious research you get access to the subject of interest. I got endless portraits of your ancestors who had ruled our country." By then I was at loss of words and he knew it. We were playing a game and it was only a matter of time before he presented me his winning cards.
I had a portrait and that man made the link between me and the picture. My face was completely colourless and I just wanted to run away, maybe back to Argentina, somewhere as far away from Miles Donovan as humanly possible.
"That's nice, but I don't see your point." I spoke in a clipped tone, feeling my throat clogging with fear. I just wished that was a misunderstanding, and not the downfall of my life.
In over three hundred years no one had figured out the truth, and I intended to keep things a certain way. I was not afraid of immortality, but I was afraid of what people would be capable of doing once they realised what happened to me, more like what didn't happen, mostly the whole concept of not dying or ageing. If my condition became of public knowledge I'd turn into a freak, some sort of scientific experiment. Everyone would want to study what went on with my body, not to mention what I had lived and seen. Peace would become an utopia, and I really liked the way my life was.
"Perhaps I am not being clear enough. Maybe this image will help you." Miles spoke, looking at me with interest. He removed a picture from his file, placing it in front of me. I couldn't say anything, mainly because he was right about his assumption, but also because the portrait brought back a lot of memories. I was being Queen on that painting, and it had been a while since I faced myself as one. The crown, the long hair and jewels, it was all part of a very ancient past. As I looked into her eyes, my eyes, I missed being that woman. She had suffered a lot, but she had the luxury of enjoying life as a finite concept, a situation I'd never face again.
"It's an absolute honour meeting you, Queen Charlotte Marie Elizabeth Stuart." Unexpectedly, professor Donovan bowed down, leaving me speechless. I was expecting some yelling, blackmailing and perhaps a long argument, not respectful words. His devotion surprised me more than any threat ever could.
"Why are you bowing down? No one has bowed down to me in the last three hundred years." I spoke, feeling small tears streaming down my cheeks. It was a mix of shock and fear, and the outcome of this meeting was entirely on his hands, a man I had never met before. I was completely vulnerable in front of him, and I didn't like it one bit.
"I believe that is the right procedure once you meet a royal member." He spoke, trying to sound posh.
"Queen Charlotte, please tell me I am not in some sort of daze. I can't believe I am standing in front of you." He looked shocked indeed, as if I was ethereal, bound to disappear at some point. I had a very important choice as the man patiently waited for my answer. I could lie and get out of his room, claim it was all a big coincidence and I had been joking before; on the other hand, I could bring myself to do something I hadn't done in many years. I could trust a stranger, like normal people did all the time, and take a leap of faith, share the burden of my life with someone who wasn't a family member.
"Charlotte Marie Elizabeth Stuart, born October 15th, 1620. Later on, became Queen of England due to my brother's death. I have never met my father and my mum was not interested in raising me. Eleanor Cavendish and Layla Grey were my ladies." Every word that left my lips made Professor Donovan gasp a little bit more. Clearly I had proven myself enough.
"Now that we are settled on my identity, don't play games. If you want to blackmail me, go ahead, I really wanna know what you have to say about this situation." I spoke, feeling uneasy, although my tone didn't show it. The man in front of me didn't struck as the blackmailing type, but then again I could never be certain.
"What? Blackmail you? I'm sorry, you've got it all wrong." He spoke, and a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. The thought of someone knowing about my secret was unpleasant and unsettling, something I suspected wouldn't go away, but at least he was not interested in exploiting me.
"I am interested in history, Queen Charlotte. Your money or any potential benefit I could get from my discovery don't interest me in the slightest. I am completely amazed and flattered by being in your presence." He spoke the last part, devotion clear as day in his tone. Professor Donovan looked at me with pure adoration and humbleness, something I hadn't seen in a long while.
"You have watched two world wars, atomic bombs, September 11 attacks, Louis' XVI head on a bowl. I am completely and utterly baffled by your experience and yet you blend in perfectly, a normal 21 year old girl. Queen Charlotte, I am honoured to be in your presence." His insistence on using my royal title caught me off guard. It had been a long time since anyone referred to me with such respect. It evoked memories which most days felt like fabrications of my mind and not the truth, but surprisingly I was fond of them. Instead of being completely devastated, like I usually felt when brought back to that period of my life, I felt appreciated, worthy.
"Firstly, I haven't been Queen in a very long while, so you can stick with Charlie for now." I begun, feeling oddly empowered. Miles Donovan was, undoubtedly a subject of mine, and I was not sure how to handle that type of attention.
"Every time I tell someone my secret, I ask them the same question. Miles, do you think living endlessly is a blessing?" I asked, waiting patiently for his answer. Usually I could understand a person better by their response, trying to find the perfect approach after learning more about their point of view. It was not easy, but it had to be done.
"Yes and no. You are, without doubt the biggest source of living history anyone will ever be able to meet, and it is a blessing to have witnessed so many changes and important events. So, I believe living forever is a blessing for historical purposes." He answered, although I kept quiet and waited for the rest.
"On the other hand, and I don't want you to think I am being presumptuous with this approach, but I believe you have been grandly unhappy during those endless years. You have witnessed everyone you ever loved dying, multiple times by different means, and that alone is something saddening. You can never form a family or live your happily ever after, because the after is eternity, and that's just too long when all things around you have an expiration date. I don't want to seem rude, I do believe you have been very happy too, but maybe living forever is just not entirely appealing." He couldn't have been more right. He touched all the right spots, mentioning every single frustration of mine.
I wanted to cry, defend my life and tell him all about how happy I had always been, but I couldn't bring myself to lie so much. I wanted kids, I wanted to grow old with someone I loved, watching our grandchildren running around and running through our backyard. Those images were constantly playing inside my head. Images of what could've been if I was not Queen and if Harry hadn't died. I always liked to believe my existence had a purpose. Something Higher chose me to survive endlessly and do a good deed, of that I was certain. I stopped believing in God after Harry died and I noticed I was not ageing, but I definitely believed we all had a purpose.
"It's a curse. I call it my personal cycle of death. I watch people during their entire lives. I change diapers, I help them with homework, I attend their weddings, see their family growing and attend their funerals. The cycle repeats itself endlessly, and even though many things vary, the outcome is always the same. They go and I stay." I had cried about it many times before, but through life I learned how to deal with my losses, at least the majority of them, and as I stood in front of Miles Donovan, I felt collected enough while talking about life and death. It was an endless ballet, but I got used to it, there was no other option.
"I don't understand why I am here. You found out the truth and yet you don't seem eager to take advantage of it. What do you want, professor Donovan?" I enquired, feeling slightly annoyed. I hadn't exactly decided to share my secrets with him, and despite that I had been honest. I really wanted to receive the same courtesy.
"Honestly, I don't know. Maybe a talk over a cup of coffee?" He asked, sounding insecure. "I wanted to meet you, Queen Charlotte. You have survived through history and as you may have noticed, I am amazed by you and your presence, even though it goes against all natural laws we have knowledge of." I looked at him and observed his features for a while. Blonde hair, nerdy glasses, mid thirties or more. Good looking, seemingly lost, but above all things, expectant. He was waiting for my response.
"I suppose I can answer some of your questions over coffee. Although my memory has faded over the years, regarding some aspects of my life." His grin was heartwarming. Clearly I had made his day.
"I am sorry for scaring you and making you believe I wanted to take advantage of your secret. Making a poor analogy, I feel like a teenage girl meeting her idol. It's the most amazing sensation, and I am glad you agreed to talk. My curiosity is killing me." For the first time I smiled at him. Miles Donovan was, above all things, honoured to meet me. That reaction was not what I had expected if someone ever found out about me, and I felt thankful because out of all the terrible people out there, someone nice knew about my immortality.
"For whatever's worth, I am glad you found out about me. As of now, I am trusting you with my life, Miles Donovan."
"I promise you I won't let you down, Charlotte Stuart."