Summer arrived carrying something that had long been absent from Sandringham.
Laughter.
Not loud, room-filling laughter, but small bursts of it—appearing between conversations, soft and unforced.
Enough to make the house feel… alive again.
That afternoon, the family gathered in the back garden. A small table had been set for afternoon tea.
Porcelain cups, delicate cakes, and fresh flowers decorated the relaxed setting.
Mary of Teck sat near Alexandra, speaking quietly as she always did. Not far from them, George stood with visiting guests.
"George," a voice suddenly called.
Princess Maud appeared beside him with an expression far too innocent to be harmless.
"What?" George replied shortly.
Maud glanced toward the tea table.
More precisely… toward Mary.
Then back at George.
"You know," she said lightly, "I'm starting to think we should arrange a schedule for you."
George frowned.
"A schedule for what?"
Maud fought back a smile.
"Time to see Lady Mary."
George nearly choked on air.
"That is not funny."
"Oh, it is very funny," Maud replied immediately.
Behind her, Toria let out a small laugh.
George shot her a warning look.
"Don't start."
"I didn't say anything," she replied, raising her hands in mock surrender, though clearly enjoying herself.
Maud stepped a little closer. Her voice lowered, but remained clear.
"You don't even notice it, do you?"
George said nothing.
And that silence was answer enough.
"Every time she laughs, you look at her."
"Every time she speaks, you listen."
"And every time she leaves… you become quieter."
George exhaled slowly.
"Maud…"
"I'm just observing," she cut in casually.
But this time, George did not immediately respond.
Because for the first time, it did not sound like teasing.
It sounded… accurate.