Regina stared at the piece of paper in front of her.

"WILD WOMAN SAVES ANOTHER PASSEL OF ORPHANS, ALSO LARGE DUCK," she slowly read aloud, hoping the words would somehow change if she spoke them.

They did not.

Artem helpfully replied to her. "Do not forget the small child, sweetheart! The paper goes into great detail about how you cured that sickly noble child whose complexion cleared up and he laughed for the first time in his life when you emerged from the pond!"

"No," Regina numbly replied, "I do not think I can forget the child, no matter how hard I try."

Indeed, Regina could not forget a great many things at this point in her life.

Just then, Regina saw horror blossom on the faces of her parents – though she did not know whether it came from the broadsheet article, the sight of Artem emerging upside down above the window to join them for breakfast, or some combination of the two events.

Unfortunately, all this led Regina to fear that she might die of humiliation before she was banished to a remote region to breed with Artem before dying in her sleep at the age of ninety.

Even more unfortunately, she had no way of venting her rage except to angrily stare at the headline that Artem had just presented her with.

It is not, she thought bitterly, as if this bloody paper even accurately chronicled how things happened!

What had actually happened was that after Artem had asked her to accompany him on a romantic picnic by the lake – an occasion that her parents had eagerly accepted on her behalf – Regina had been unpleasantly surprised by a boat ride.

That alone would not have thrilled Regina given that her assassin took that as an opportunity to stage her death via drowning –

Only Artem had unwittingly made things worse by inviting the orphans from the theater to accompany them – which led her to end up rescuing herself, Artem, the orphans, and a very persistent duck that might be her assassin using her surprisingly hydrodynamic skirt.

She did not even want to think of the noble child who began laughing for the first time in his life after she had emerged from the pond with the orphans and Artem riding on her petticoats.

“At least,” said Regina, reminding herself that no one outside Artem ever remembered her existence for more than a day or two, “this ridiculous event will soon be quickly forgotten.

~♦♥♦~

It was not quickly forgotten.

~♦♥♦~

Regina held the paper in front of her like it was about to bite her.

"WILD WOMAN SWINGS TO THE RESCUE OF BAKERY, ALSO SMALL DUCK"

“Was this not,” she said through gritted teeth, “the headline they used last week?”

“Oh no,” Artem helpfully said as he started buttering her muffin for her. “Last week it was orphans and the duck was large.”

Regina was not sure why Artem was sitting alone with her at her breakfast table and buttering her muffins. She could only assume her parents no longer cared about her reputation as a pure and innocent maiden, probably not helped by either the newspaper headlines or the ducks that were haunting her.

Ignoring the pang of hurt at her parent’s complete abandonment, Regina grimly hoped that this series of unfortunate events would kill her and Artem’s reputations enough that they would be seen as breeding stock to be sent to a quiet remote location immediately after the wedding.

Even so, some part of Regina wanted to protest that her loss of reputation was not due to anything she had done. After all, it was hardly Regina’s fault that she had only had a vision of an assassination attempt just before she woke in the carriage in front of the bakery.

It was even less her fault that the only way to avoid the barrel of flour that her assassin had rolled off the roof to kill her was to propel herself forward using the bakery’s awning.

It was least of all her fault that her swinging skirts had somehow managed to smother a small fire when she landed, or that her skirts had moved the bakery’s pet duck out of range of the fire.

Finally, landing on the chest of the owner who had been gasping for air and dislodging the biscuit from his throat was just the kind of horrifying coincidence Regina had begun to expect from her cursed life.

“Why in Carcosa did everyone watching start applauding at the end of that ridiculous episode?” Regina cried, her very soul shriveling at the memory of her burnt skirt, undone hair, and cream smeared-face at the end of the mess.

“Because you are the most glorious woman they have ever seen,” Artem sweetly said, taking advantage of her open mouth to put a piece of muffin into it.

Regina was sure that the word “glorious” was more likely to be replaced with “hilarious.”

Even so, Regina hoped that those overly-interested nobles and commoners would soon find another source of entertainment besides herself.

She had accomplished what she intended by becoming too much of a laughing stock to ever be a political power.

Surely the assassins would see that she was harmless and leave her be now?

~♦♥♦~

Nothing in Regina’s life had ever let her be.

~♦♥♦~

“Do not,” Regina said through gritted teeth, “even think of-”

"FIERCE FEMALE FIGHTS FOR FREEDOM OF FLORISTS, ALSO MEDIUM DUCK," said Henrietta very slowly.

“I told you,” said Regina, “do not-”

“At least,” said Henrietta, handing Regina a slice of toast, “it is not WILD WOMAN. Although that is probably because they wanted the full alliteration. That or they decided that a fifth headline using WILD WOMAN would not be as interesting.”

“I hate you,” Regina responded with great sincerity.

“Is that why the entrance way is full of ducks, living and made of metal?” asked Henrietta. “Are you secretly building a duck army? That is not the worst idea I have heard.”

“I hate you very much,” Regina repeated passionately.

“I shall keep that in mind in case I see any ducks flapping furiously at me,” Henriette said sweetly.

That surprised a laugh out of Regina before she looked down at her toast… only to realize just what was missing.

“Why,” Regina slowly said as her sense of danger rose as sharply as it did when she was served mystery meat at the Sheridan manor, “is my toast unbuttered?”

“Because,” Henrietta wryly replied, “your pretty, prancing prince who would normally butter it just sent over a note saying that his older brother detained him for important Alpin business. Apparently, no amount of your prince’s pouting could convince Crown Prince Aaron to let him butter your toast. Perhaps the Crown Prince is just as disturbed as I am by Prince Artem’s wooing.”

Blinking hard and suddenly feeling no desire for toast, buttered or otherwise, Regina asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Henrietta bluntly stated, “that your pretty prince has been over a disturbing number of times – more so than your parents should ever have let him, given how protective they are over you. Do you not find it odd that Prince Artem hovers over you every morning and most evenings?”

“Poor Artem does have questionable taste,” Regina admitted, thinking about her fiance’s more-is-more philosophy to both romance and jewelry. “Even so, Artem obviously loves to visit me because I am one of the few people who do not sneer at him for being so much… himself. I like him for being so simple and good-hearted!”

Henrietta just buried her face in her hands before muttering something indistinct about how simple someone else she knew was.

Huffing and knowing that Henrietta had not meant that as a compliment, Regina added, “Besides, my parents allow Artem to visit whenever he wishes because they would do anything to bind a prince to me. If my parents thought they could accumulate more power by shooting me out of a cannon and into the sun, they would do so. So what does it matter if my parents let Artem have all his meals with me?”

Henrietta finally took her hands from her face, though her long-suffering look was not much of an improvement.

“If you will not look out for danger,” Henrietta muttered, “then I will do so for you. After all, if you died, I would have no one to steal little cakes for.”

“I know that,” Regina instantly replied. After all, Regina knew that she could trust Henrietta with her life. “You know I would also do anything I could to save you, even if it meant going against…”

Regina paused, unwilling to say that she was willing to go against the family elders out loud.

Yet the grateful, if sad, smile on Henrietta’s face showed that she understood Regina’s unspoken wish.

Then, in a move that shocked Regina, Henrietta took Regina by the shoulders and said, “If Prince Artem has ever forced you in any way to spend time with him, tell me. He might have his royal family and his pretty gold trinkets on his side but I have… power of my own. So if Prince Artem thinks he can get away with murder, blackmail, or constantly giving you toast with unsalted butter –”

Henrietta smiled and flexed arm muscles that looked ready to pulverize a prince at a moment’s notice.

“I. Will. End. Him.”

Henrietta then let go of a shocked Regina and added, “Though if you wish to give me advice on what to do with his body afterwards, I am happy to listen. I was going to conceal different pieces of Prince Artem in various vases before taking them to be “recycled” but I fear the viscera would give me away.”

“Duly noted,” Regina said, feeling both touched and terrified as she carefully maneuvered the salted butter over to her beloved cousin.

Henrietta smiled and began buttering her toast.

Regina decided that the eggs looked more appetizing.

As Regina tried hard not to think of viscera, she wondered when the newspapers would stop taking an interest in the ridiculous ways she had been forced to thwart assassinations, all of which seemed to involve ducks.

It was painful enough that the nobles kept sending gifts to mock her and that the commoners started following her when she appeared. Yet surely the newspapers would soon stop being interested in the stupidity surrounding her?

~♦♥♦~

Regina had seriously underestimated how much the media enjoyed writing about stupidity.

~♦♥♦~

“Please tell me,” said Regina, dread growing inside her, “that you are not carrying a duck with a collar that says Reginette.”

“I can put her down if you like?” said Artem, blinking in confusion. “After all, I can just share your latest triumph instead.”

“Oh no,” said Regina, horror rising even further, “that will not be necessary -”

The newspaper unfolded like an omen of disaster.

“WONDERFUL WOMAN WALTZES INTO WORKSHOP, WEAKENS THE WICKED, WELCOMES WAIVERING WAIFS, ALSO DUCKS”, said Artem, savoring every word in a way that would have made Regina tingle… if it had not been about one of the most embarrassing experiences of her life thus far.

“Surely,” she weakly said, “the newspapers have to eventually run out of alliteration when describing my… events.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Oh no,” said Artem cheerfully, “I am fairly sure the editor just purchased a new thesaurus last week.”

Regina would have responded, if not for the sharp pain that suddenly hit her ankle.

She looked down.

Reginette the duck looked back up at her.

“Bad duck,” said Artem sternly. “Only I am allowed to give Regina love bites.”

“You have not,” said Regina, her head swimming as a deep blush dawned on her. “We have not…”

“I am just preparing for the future,” said Artem, as he carefully placed Reginette outside the door and took his seat at the breakfast table across from Regina. “Just like the giant pond I built at the palace called Regina’s Pond that is now filled with your beloved ducks.”

Regina stared at Artem.

“They are all named after you,” he helpfully added. “So far, you have Reginette, Reginald, Regor, Rebert, Ressina, and Reginette the Second.”

Regina continued to stare.

“After all,” said Artem, “I will not have all those nobles – have Robin Buren and Ihsan Kuzey – give you all those precious duck gifts without doing better myself.”

A strange, almost dark, expression crossed his face then was gone so quickly Regina wondered if she had imagined it.

Artem probably did not realize, Regina thought, her heart sore, that everyone was laughing at her since he himself believed she was so winsome and wonderful.

Unfortunately, there had been nothing wonderful about avoiding an assassination attempt at a metal-working workshop that, of course, had a large pond full of ducks out back and a group of small children who had been running errands.

That people were interested in her merely meant that they were excited by whatever level of absurd stupidity would come her way this day.

However, Artem never seemed to see it that way.

Artem truly believed that people’s interest in her was sincere – overlooking how she was a joke to the commoners (which Regina did not mind) and an object of ridicule to the nobles (which Regina did).

How else was she meant to view the way noble families treated her?

Why else would noble families keep making appointments and asking her if she was good at healing, which was obviously because her skirts kept protecting her from injury and they were mocking the way she had to keep rolling around in them?

Those same nobles then sent Regina duck-based gifts to mock her, even as they pretended it was because she loved ducks and they wanted to be in her “good graces” –

Regina took a deep breath, trying to remind herself that she would not have to deal with the nobles’ mockery for too long.

This reminder was helpful, even if it was not stopping the assassinations. She just needed to stop –

“Muffin?” said Artem and Regina absently opened her mouth and took a bite.

The nobles will stop mocking me soon, Regina reminded herself, as will the newspapers and even the commoners.

After all, dull Regina Sheridan was simply not interesting enough to be gossiped about for so long.

~♦♥♦~

Unfortunately, Regina’s standard for “interesting” was significantly higher than the newspapers of Carcosa.

~♦♥♦~

“No,” said Regina.

“POWERFUL PRINCESS PARADES PAST POTTERY PREVENTS PATRICIDE AND PUNISHES PERVERT WITH PLANK, ALSO PROMOTES DUCKS”, said Regina’s mother, her smile as terrifying as the knife she was twirling in her fingers.

“Absolutely not,” Regina coldly repeated, no longer resigned to being inaudible in her life, especially with what her parents were asking of her.

“Where was that potter, again?” said Henrietta. “I need some new vases and he left a note saying he would supply you with a lifetime’s supply of ceramics.”

“He was near the giant pile of wood I knocked over trying to –” snapped Regina, her head buzzing as she tried to gain control of the conversation.

“You see,” said her father, a sheath of paper filled with numbers rustling in his hands, “there is some true power to being the people’s princess.”

Regina managed not to let out a shriek of unadulterated frustration and commit patricide herself, but it was a very near thing.

“Those headlines and everyone who reads them are laughing at me,” said Regina, her teeth grinding with every word. “I am the people’s jester, soon to be their royal source of amusement. If we put out a paid article about me being the people’s princess, they are likely to shun our family, not celebrate us!”

Regina wished with every fiber of her being that Artem was not mysteriously absent this morning, if only because her parents no longer joined her for breakfast if he was present.

Even if her parents and Artem had somehow overlapped, at least Artem could have stuffed Regina’s mouth with muffin every time she was tempted to scream in frustration.

In fact, Regina had no idea why her parents had staged this strange intervention, but she was starting to wonder if they were not just murderous but insane.

How anyone could look at the stupidity of what kept happening to her every time she tried to thwart the visions of her own murder and think that these events made her look powerful was…

Well, apparently, they were an editor with a thesaurus and her parents.

Even so, how anyone could look at the giant pile of ducks people kept sending her and think that she was anything but a national joke was beyond her.

The only people who treated her with even the smallest soupcon of respect were the commoners who kept trying to touch her and tell her about their aches and pains, no doubt hoping that she would do something funny enough to distract them from their misery.

Regina mostly found that heartbreaking, especially given how powerless the commoners were in the face of most nobles.

After all, even the wealthiest of commoners could have their livelihoods, homes, or even children taken away by noble families. Even Regina – hardly the most worldly of people – knew that if a commoner child was tested and found to have magical powers, they would be snatched away from their families by nobles eager to “adopt” them.

So if laughing at a ridiculous noble like herself helped commoners forget the precarity of their lives… well, Regina did not begrudge them finding her a source of amusement.

However, Regina was far less touched by the nobles who kept questioning her on her political plans and her thoughts on the powers of Carcosa – probably to see what stupidity she might spout.

Regina was fiercely determined that, while she did want to be sent into breeding exile, she was not going to entertain those nobles with the stupidity they were expecting.

So while Regina had no idea why nobles kept coming back to her even though she refused to provide them with her ‘opinions’ to entertain them… she refused to find new ways to let them humiliate her.

Only her parents now seemed determined to find new paths of humiliation for her by promoting her as some sort of ‘people’s princess’ – and Regina had no idea why.

Indeed, her parents should be the people most worried about her becoming too much of a joke! What would happen if the Alpins decided that she was too much trouble to even breed with one of their spare princes?

Regina went to bed every night trembling with horror over the prospect of the Alpins discarding her as too ridiculous even for Artem… and this fear was not helped by the non-Artem Alpins constantly asking her how well she healed.

Regina had assumed the Alpins would just kill her if they did not want her, but now she apparently had to fear torture as well. Who knows what they might do to her to ‘discover’ her non-existent healing powers?

“Our elders are very interested in you,” said Regina’s mother, adding a new worry to Regina’s mounting list of them.

Regina had no doubt the Sheridans elders were very interested in her. If she lost this engagement, Regina knew that she would not survive the night, even without outside assassins.

Regina’s father chimed in, pushing his glasses back up his forehead. “The elders are not… enthusiastic about your engagement anymore so your engagement needs to be publicly impossible to remove. Being the people’s princess will help with that.”

Regina stared at him.

She did not expect to hear that the Sheridan elders would suddenly be against her engagement to a wealthy and well-connected – if politically unimportant – second prince.

Yet even if they were, why would her parents want her to keep that engagement by suddenly becoming ‘the people’s princess’?

Not only was that terrible idea that would never work given Regina’s wretched reputation… Regina had to wonder why her parents supported her engagement to Artem in the first place.

Why were her parents not siding with whatever plan the elders had… a plan that obviously did not involve her continuing her engagement to a politically powerless prince destined to be exiled to the countryside to breed more Alpins?

Why were her parents deciding to side with Regina and her happiness for once in their lives?

“I can leave the money for the “people’s princess” article with the newspaper editor on my way to the race track,” said her mother, decisively planting her knife in the middle of the table. “It might even grant me some… luck.”

Of course, Regina thought as bitter realization dawned on her. My parents must have worked out a private deal where Artem is willing to pay handsomely for me. So regardless of what the elders want, my parents want to make sure the sale goes through so they can spend my blood money on what matters most to them… gambling and expensive notebooks.

“Are you well?” said Henrietta, squinting in obvious concern at whatever expression Regina had on her face.

“I have never been better,” Regina quietly replied.

She even meant it.

Regina and her parents agreed on one thing. No matter what happened, Regina was going to get married to Artem Alpin and never see any of her family – except Henrietta – ever again.

All she had to do was not find herself in situations so ridiculous that she became a liability rather than a useful tool.

~♦♥♦~

“Ridiculous” was very much in the eye of the beholder.

~♦♥♦~

The newspaper made a very lovely crackling noise as it burned.

“My beloved sea urchin,” said Artem. “How many of those did you place on the fire?”

“Sixteen,” said Regina cheerfully. “Two months worth of editorials featuring my public humiliation and also ducks.”

Artem muttered something about being glad he had extra copies but Regina ignored him.

After all, the articles burned very nicely.

Then, dramatically leaning back and draping her arm over her eyes, Regina murmured, “By the blood, if I have to read one more sarcastic newspaper article writing about a false version of myself that is a “saint” crossed with a clown, I will develop a complex.”

Artem made a noise that sounded equally baffled and amused. “Why? If anything, these articles are underrating how amazing and inventive you happen to be!”

“That is true,” Regina conceded after a minute, withdrawing her hand to smile at her sweet fiancé. “That false Regina recorded in the papers does not know how to use panniers nearly as efficiently.”

At Artem’s bright peal of laughter, Regina relaxed, feeling a little more at ease than before.

These last few months had been ridiculous… but when she had the privilege of having these gentle moments with Artem, she felt more at ease.

‘Is this what our marriage will be like?’ Regina wondered as she watched Artem neatly tuck the rest of the newspapers out of her sight. ‘This warm and peaceful and… and happy – especially if I can stop dealing with assassins for every other bloody minute?’

It was a thought that made Regina smile as she watched Artem putter around, especially when he turned to her with those bright, puppy-dog eyes that were always so eager to please.

“I am happy you are happy,” Artem said, furtively looking around to see that Henrietta (the designated chaperone) was taking a nap in her corner before he leaned forward to give Regina a gentle kiss upon the lips.

Regina returned it back with equal tenderness before replying: “Yes, I am. It is nice to be able to stay home with you instead of frolicking with the ducks of Carcosa. While they have their charms, I think you are even more suited to me.”

A deep blush colored Artem’s face before he leaned forward and shared a few more slow, soft, and sweet kisses with Regina – at least before the sound of Henrietta snorting in her sleep made him back away.

(Henrietta had taken to grimly carrying large vases when Artem was around. Not being nearly as much of a fool as the public thought, Artem had learned to treat Regina with far more care whenever Henrietta and her mighty vase-wielding muscles were near).

Still blushing, Artem softly whispered: “I am overjoyed to know that you feel we belong together, my sweet sea urchin. You have been looking tired recently. So perhaps…”

Sneaking a look over at Henrietta and finding her asleep, Artem took Regina’s hand in his own and sighed.

“Perhaps we should spend the day resting in your family’s townhouse instead of going to more invited events. We could stay home and plan our matching outfits and jewels for our honeymoon!”

“Believe me,” Regina sighed, “I am sorely tempted by your offer. Only…”

‘Only,’ she thought, ‘I fear that if I do not offer my determined assassin the chance to kill me outdoors, he might decide to try targeting me in the townhouse once more.’

After the assassin’s first attempt to murder her in her bedroom while Artem serenaded her, Regina had thankfully never received visions about attacks in her family’s town house again. Regina was unsure if this was because of the added guards her parents had installed at the townhouse after Artem became a frequent visitor or because the assassin wanted her dead in public.

Either way, Regina would rather thwart murder attempts anywhere but her bed.

Hanging her head, Regina resignedly said: “Darling, you know how much I adore making the masses happy with my beloved presence. I would… love to go attend an event with you. What invitations came in?”

“Hmmm,” Artem said, nodding his head and looking so adorable Regina had to pat his hair as though he were a puppy. Nuzzling her hand, Artem went on to say: “We have one of two choices. We could got to an exclusive assembly run by Lady Oreille – the most notorious gossip in town – or –”

“Unless that second option consists of us rubbing ourselves with goose-fat and throwing ourselves into a bonfire,” Regina firmly said, “we will take it.”

Artem smiled sweetly and took her hand in his own.

“Then,” he brightly said, “how about we visit some of our nearest, dearest friends?”

“Please,” Regina said as her eyes went wide, “tell me that we are not going to see ducks once again.”

“Oh no,” Artem brightly replied. “The friends we will see have an even better appreciation for metallurgy!”

Baffled, Regina smiled before she rose before putting her arm in Artem’s own.

“Lead on,” she said. “I cannot wait to see what surprise you have prepared for me.”