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Thread: The Appalling Strangeness of the Mercy of God [M - Hannelorian x DuchessLivilla]

  1. #371
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    As Alexandra and Arthur left, Arabella breathed a sigh of relief. The torture was, for the moment, over. It was to be brief. Arabella could not bring herself to get used to his hands upon her body. It was foreign, it felt wrong. Even though she had kissed the man, several times now, even though she was before God his wife, it made her uncomfortable. The echoes of his touch shot through her body like waves of electricity. But, ever the lady, she endured.

    "A surprise?" Oh God, Arabella thought. If Christian had a surprise, it surely meant no good news. "Thank you, my beloved. Though I assure you, you are all the gift I need." To flatter her husband meant to prolong her existence in this world. The Queen suppose it struck her, perhaps for the first time how terrified she truly was. This was not a marriage of love, but rather one of fear, though none save for her nearest and dearest would know it, or understand it. Well, anyone who truly knew the King as had and was about to learn even more might have the same fear. To many he was generous, seen as strict but kind, wise but judgmental. The opposite of his father.

    As the fanfare within the abbey subsided, the new Queen was whisked away and restored to her wedding dress, though in place of the train she had worn during that ceremony, the same deep purple velvet ermine worn for the coronation remained. As opposed to St. Edward's crown, which truly was made for men, a new crown had been commissioned for her by the King. It glimmered in gold and diamonds, with more precious stones of ruby and emerald than perhaps any other that had been fashioned. This, along with a suite of tiaras that awaited her in her chambers at Buckingham Palace were now her own.

    A recessional saw the royal couple, now wed and crowned exit the abbey to the cheers of the large crowd assembled, to maintain the surprise the King was first departed, the new Queen next to leave in the carriage made for her and the occasion. While the King would enter through the main gates, the Queen would enter the palace from the rear. She smiled and waved as she did so. To all she appeared to be happy, overjoyed. Perhaps acting was a career that the Queen could have considered.

    What could the surprise be? Surely it had to be something like jewelry, or clothes or other finery. Something loud and bold that announced to the world she was owned by the King, she was his now. She was for the people to look at, but for none to touch. That is none but him.

    Once the Queen had arrived at the palace, she was quickly escorted inside to be reunited with Christian and brought to the balcony. Traditionally the Prince and Princess of Wales would join, children or grandparents too. Had Christian allowed Arthur and Alexandra to come? Even for just the sake of appearance?

    --

    It occurred to Arthur that he had never really seen Arabella's cruelty (real or imagined). He had often heard about it from Alexandra, and from everything she said he knew to expect the worst. But he had to admit, it had caught him off guard. Her insults were thick, heavy, dripping with acid as his wife suggested. The Arabella he had come to know was kind and in sincere want of a family, of love, of acceptance.

    There were always rumours. A servant or two had killed themselves over the years. For the most part they were viewed as isolated incidents with trouble youth. But having been married to Alexandra, it would become ever more clear all roads inevitably led back to the Queen. She was responsible.

    "It came back to her frightfully naturally." It took the Queen almost no time to come up with her responses, perhaps after so many years of cruelty it came as second nature. While I know now that she does not mean her words... it's quite cutting and bound to continue." Arthur sighed deeply, he enjoyed the relative quiet he had with his wife just now. The two of them undisturbed as the majority of the nobility were clamoring about the Queen or preparing for the elaborate celebrations that were scheduled. "You weren't too bad yourself, coming back with the it isn't a woman's place quip." Arthur laughed lightly, trying to keep his voice down as much as he could. Both knew the idea was rather absurd, to but to use protocol against the Queen was amusing, and clever.

    "Much like a prized deer, she is his prize, of course he'll show her off. I understand your concern my dear love." She was right to worry, but... for now they were okay. "For the moment, we are safe and so is she. I don't think he'll make any severe move until the Queen births a child, and we should pray that it is a son for your sister's sake. A daughter for ours." In reality, Arthur personally did not care what the baby was, a daughter would keep them safe a while longer, though it would endanger Alex's sister. A son would protect the Queen for a time, but would endanger their lives. It was a complicated game of cat and mouse, and crown be damned. He wanted to live a long life beside Alex and their unborn children.

    "We must go."
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  2. #372
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    Alexandra nodded. "My sister has a talent for cruelty, you can be sure. But I will happily take her cuts to avoid her unleashing them on another, less used to such. And as you say, we can but hope she remains in jest. If they ever turn to real once more, my life is to be despaired of."

    The two young people climbed into their carriage outside the Cathedral, smiles and waves coming to them as naturally as cruelty to Bella did, as the people watched. It occured to Alex that all this was such a silly game. She did not, of course, begrudge the people a smile nor a wave, but it seemed their Royal betters could never be themselves for a moment, they must always be what the people wished to see.

    Well, everyone but Christian. But even he could put on a good show of charm and such when needed.

    "If we are to survive, we must ensure the people no longer see him as their 'good father' and kind master," she thought as the carriage trundled towards Buckingham Palace. Rather surprisingly -for both had assumed they would be sent to the back or else omitted altogether- their carriage drove down the Mall and approached the main gates, lined as it was with the King's Guards in their shining uniforms.

    Alexandra looked out of the window as they approached and gasped when she saw what awaited her sister and themselves in the courtyard before the gates, directly below the balcony. "No...Arthur...He...he couldn't think such a thing on such a day?"

    She closed her eyes as they passed, wishing she could close her hears to the cries and begging that came from the assembled mob of poor wretches.

    "Please God, let him have this arranged so she might show mercy as a display. Do not let it be what I think it is. Please, she does not deserve this, and they even less so!"

    She covered her mouth with her hand as their carriage drew to a stop within the enclosed courtyard beyond the archway, to stop herself from dissolving into...she was not even sure if it should be tears or screams or merely curses against the King and the world he had made.

    -

    A few moments later she and Arthur stood in the grand room that preceded the balcony. Refreshments and drinks were being served but neither Royal had the stomach for it, knowing, or at least suspecting, what was about to happen. The pair lingered by the wall, out of direct sight of the King and his cronies, who were in high spirits and drinking champagne like water.

    As they stood, silent, both stunned into it by all they had seen -and also aware they were being watched and spied upon so silence was a better choice- a footman approached and bowed. "Your Highnesses, the King asks that, when Her Majesty arrives, you accompany them upon the balcony."

    Alexandra glanced at Arthur and said softly, as if awed -and not aware it was their right, though neither wished to go anyway!- "What an honour..."

    The room fell silent as her sister glided in, followed by her ladies in their finery. How Alex wished to run to her and prepare her for what she was about to see.

    Christian beamed and drew her to him by her arm, as he would his horse by it's reigns. "My darling, your absence has been too long, even for minutes! Let us never be apart," he chuckled and winked. The gathered throng smiled and laughed politely. "Come, let us give the crowd's their show. I wish to show off my beloved to all."

    He looked over at Arthur and his wife and gave a curt nod. It was, if Bella was his mare to be kept on reigns, as if he was summoning his dog to him. Still, neither could refuse and they came at once, bowing and curtsying to the King and Queen.

    Then, as a united -at least in theory- unit, the four stepped out onto the balcony, followed by Bella's ladies who stood behind them so as not to block the Royals from the huge crowd gathered beyond the gates of the palace. The King and Queen stood in the middle, Alexandra on the side of her sister, Arthur on the side of his father. That was small comfort at least.

    Shielded by the stone balustrade, Alex reached down and squeezed her sister's hand in a tiny gesture before she, like them, smiled and waved cheerfully at the crowds. Given the multitudes gathered, and the shouts and cheers and proclamations, it was easy, at first, for Bella to miss what was below her; naturally, one's eye was going to look out...not down.

    But when she did...the sight could not be ignored.

    Below them, arranged in the courtyard, on two sides -the middle being where there carriages had passed through- was what could only be described as an open air torture chamber-come-execution ground. From what Alexandra could see of the prisoners, gathered on each side on their knees in sack-like robes, it was all women. Likely the King wished to make a point about Bella being the highest woman in the realm and therefore in charge of the morality of all women in said realm.

    Christian beamed, as if this was a beautiful sight. He gestured outwards to the pitiful sight below. "My darling, these are your gifts from me. These harlots you see here, have all been found guilty of various crimes against moral goodness; adultery, sexual immorality, prostitution, and so on...as well as heresy and witchcraft."

    He raised his hand and the crowd fell silent. "These harlots before you, good Christian people, are grievous sinners who are a stain on our fair land. They must be cut out from among us, less they infect our society with their sin. There can be no mercy to such creatures as these. But today is a day of celebration too and so you, good people, deserve a show as well."

    The King smiled and turned to Bella. "My darling, the stage is yours. You may decide how these vile witches die...There are many options," he winked, as if this was a rare treat.
    "Ye mustn't be afraid to ask for help. Pride is a good thing, my girl, but it will kill you in time." - Granny Weatherwax

  3. #373
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    As Arabella entered the antechamber, just before the balcony she was acutely aware of the immediate silence that fell. All present ceasing gossip, respecting, or perhaps fearing their new Queen. The gentle smile never left her face, not even for a moment. As Christian spoke to her she processed the words, but only barely, enough to squeeze out a quiet response "never again shall we be parted. For I am yours, and my place is at your side." She was not his, in her mind she still belonged to another man, one who had left her for the next life and world.

    Her eyes caught those of her sister's if ever so briefly. 'Alex' she cried out with her mind, the only way she could and still it would amount to nothing. She was then lead out onto the balcony. Never before had she stood on this hallowed platform, the means by which the country viewed their Royals. Richard had, she remembered that, often beside the King and even the King's father. The noise was overwhelming, even more so than at Westminster, where it all felt controlled, even though here she was a layer removed the throngs below were outside the gates.

    The sound of their cheers, of her name being called, of Christian's, it was all too much. But never, ever, did her smile fade. Taking her place beside the King and next to her sister, she recognized the oddity. Two sisters, one married to the son, the other to the father. One the Queen, the other the future Queen. They were icons before the people. It was only when she felt the squeeze of her hand did Arabella look below, not out, but below and then it struck her. Alexandra was attempting to prepare her, to comfort her for what she would see.

    There were no fewer than a dozen souls, each of them women. They looked tired, beaten and beleaguered. It was difficult to consume. It took every fiber, every last bit of her strength not to display her horror. Instead she simply stood, watching over them as Christian spoke his words. Her hand, though, hidden from the masses squeezed back. These were sinners. They deserved their punishment. But now, for the first time Arabella questioned the punishment, it seemed excessive that they should die, even more so when she considered how they would die. Ways she'd watched hundreds of times throughout her life, generally with a sense of glee. These were sinners. They should be punished, she thought, but not like this.

    Understanding what she was now called to do was a phenomenal responsibility, but an uncomfortable one. She would be putting these people to death. There would be no other truth. Her words would condemn them. How long could she live with the idea that she simply said she had no choice. This was Christian's gift, to him this was glorious, to her it was a crime. But now she stood with the crowds silenced, waiting for her to speak. She was the arbiter of fate, and thus had a duty to perform.

    "Good Christian men and women, I stand before you now, no longer the Duchess you have come to know, but as the Queen I pray you will come to love." There was truth in those words, she did want their love, their admiration. But she wanted such because she did right, and how could anyone love someone who was about to do what she was meant to? "I too have stood where you are, standing in the Grace of God and His Majesty. I am but a humble Christian servant who seeks to please the Lord, and my husband, the most great and noble King Christian III." But the crowd, now they loved an execution. This was their bread and butter, their entertainment. A mentality that had to be broken.

    "The King spoke of mercy. But I must admit, the justice meted out here today is mercy in it's highest form. To be allowed to continue to live life in sin, and with the freedom to sin further will do far more damage to the soul, than it would be to simply end it, and allow one to face the Judgment of God without delay." Arabella spoke strongly, firmly, without hesitation, all assembled would feel that she believed in her own words. But they rang hollow to her. "It is my wish that you follow the virtuous example of the King, and through him of Jesus Christ and our Lord God. Justice must be done, sin atoned for. So let us deliver it and free these souls from the bonds of their torture."

    The Queen, in her crowned glory stepped forward and raised her arms into the air. "Let it be known, that I forgive you of your sins. Each and every one of you, I commend you that you meet your fate with dignity and grace." The smile faded from Arabella's face as she began rendering judgment. "Heretics among you, in accordance with His Majesty's justice shall be burned at the stake. Blasphemers among you to lose your tongues. Traitors, let the wolves feast upon your flesh." There was no pause, there was only direct action as the Queen's arms fell to her sides. She took no joy in this, though she knew the laws, she had seen their penalty exacted on many. "Adulterers, bring your lovers forth and you shall be chained to one another and cast into the river to drown.

    Arabella could have done more to spare them, or perhaps give them an easier death but this is not what the King wanted. Arabella needed him to know that she understood the law of God and of Kingdom and were committed to them, to him. "While you have my forgiveness in this life, and the just mercy of death, we can only pray that God grants mercy upon your souls."

    The crowd was silent as the Queen spoke, and when she concluded they erupted in applause and cheers. They celebrated their new Queen, they felt as though she was their Queen, one who understood them, who craved justice and order. They had accepted her, decided to love her. But not everyone agreed, there were those sympathetic to the world view of Arthur and Alexandra, and secretly of the Queen. Arabella should have basked in this outpouring of adoration, but she could not, for she had done great evil and herself would pay for it upon her own death.

    Raising her arms once more, the silence quickly fell. "Please join me, in wishing our magnanimous monarch a very happy wedding day. Long Live the King, God Save the King." The crowd followed in suit, and the applause resumed. Arabella stepped back, resigning herself to her place beside her husband. But as she did so, she looked at her sister. Arabella's face had fallen, riddled with anguish that she could only show for the briefest of moments. It was with great horror that she had been given this 'gift.'

    Arthur listened and remained stoic, with a smile painted on his face. Arabella had outdone herself. With the Queen returned to the King, Arthur moved to be beside his own wife, wrapping an arm around her waist and waving to the roaring crowd. "She's a monster." He whispered as he held on to his wife tightly. Arthur had difficulty accepting what had just happened, he wondered if perhaps she too was as far gone as his father. Or was she really just that good of an actress? "Let us find a room, before the celebrations begin this evening."
    Last edited by Hannelorian; 11-03-2022 at 02:35 PM.
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  4. #374
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    Christian, with each word Bella spoke, grew more and more in love with her. He knew this had been the right choice. She was perfect in her cruelty. He must, he decided, give her more opportunities to sharpen her claws. They could tour the prisons together...watch torture sessions...Perhaps a bedroom could be installed beside said rooms...for afterwards...

    A cruel smile graced his lips and he pulled Bella to him, kissing her as the crowds applauded. He was so engrossed he did not notice Arthur move, nor the words he spoke.

    Alexandra heard all and remained, as her husband did, stoically silent, her face giving nothing away. She, like him -and Bella herself- was powerless to stop any of this. Pleading for mercy would do no good for the poor wretches, nor themselves. In fact, it would likely cast an even greater shadow upon them. And now she had her unborn child to consider.

    She leant against Arthur and whispered, "I pray it is an act and we have not been deceived...If this is all a game and she has not changed, you and I shall soon be down there with those poor people."

    Christian released his bride and smiled then glanced at Arthur. "Your Highness may go, my beloved and I have some executions to watch. We shall, I trust, see you tonight at the feast and ball." Then, as if unable to resist, he smirked and said, "I've already told the kitchens to prepare extra...Knowing the Princess has a larger appetite than a Lady normally wants."

    Alexandra covered her reaction to this cruelty well and merely curtsied, "Your Majesty is too kind," she replied before she glanced at Arthur, eager for him to leave. She could not go first but how she wished to escape.
    "Ye mustn't be afraid to ask for help. Pride is a good thing, my girl, but it will kill you in time." - Granny Weatherwax

  5. #375
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    The electrifying chill returned the moment he kissed her, but Arabella returned the affection and embraced the King, her husband as she did so. When he insulted Alexandra, she wished to interject, but it was too late. Arthur had already wrapped an arm around her and left. Arabella returned her attention forwards to the crowd and the ill fated below. She watched on with no pleasure, no joy. A small smile spread across her face was all she could muster. The sounds of execution were gruesome, the smells were even worse. Cleaning this up would be no small feat.

    Just before the proceedings began, the Queen carefully adjusted the wedding gown and took to her knees, her hands cupped in prayer. Arabella did as she always did, prayed for those who were about to die, to beg the eternal God for their forgiveness. Execution was as serious as it got, the only thing worse was being killed privately, with no one to know, no one to pray, no one to mourn. Arabella would mourn for these, she would grieve privately for their families. But above all, she prayed as well for her family, for their safety, and for their wisdom to know the truth in all things.

    The act which took no more than a few moments was concluded, the Queen rose and stood beside her husband, a hand reaching to hold his, if he would have hers. From his actions it would appear he was satisfied with her performance. She was quite convincing and he was ever more smitten, just a little more in love with her. The more he loved her, the more he needed her, the greater her odds. Tonight would be unpleasant, but if she had any luck, tonight would be the night she conceived.

    Lucy and Alice had taken the time to exchange notes while the nobility celebrated. No one even noticed a lone maid anymore. At least not on a day like today where there was so much more important to look at. Lucy took in the note Alice had brought, and handed one back.

    Alex,

    I don't know when you're reading this. I also suspect you may have written something similar. I suppose I must be married now. Which means the unpleasantness has returned. It must be hard for you to endure, for Arthur to watch and also endure. A nasty reminder of how I was so for so many years.

    And here I am once more, nasty, cruel... all so he'll believe me... so he'll love me. It isn't fair to you, not then, not now. But I don't mean it. I say the words, but they are hollow, much like my heart... or whatever is left of it. I think the only piece Richard didn't take was Beatrix, and now she is gone.

    I will protect you, Arthur, and... well you know. Even if it kills me, I will protect you. I wonder if by now, he's gotten his claws into my flesh. Fairly literally. If you're still here... well you must introduce Alice to the Duke of Kent. He'll be present tonight, well, everyone will I suppose. He's only a bit older than her. No one knows much about him, his father was such an overwhelming presence... and not terribly missed.

    Anyway, you have my love, now and always.

    Bella


    And when reunited, the maid would sneak the note to the Princess. Like nothing ever happened.
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  6. #376
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    The Prince and Princess, with all the attention on the King and Queen, were able to slip away into a room no one would be in for some time, and especially on a day like today; the royal nursery. The very room where, many years ago, the newly born Arthur had been placed in the gilded cradle that now lay empty, yet spotless. For the first four or five years of his life, the little Prince had lived in this room, and the playroom beyond...perhaps hoping for siblings to join him, though that was never to happen.

    Alexandra sat down upon the plush, overstuffed chair by the cradle and held her head in her hands. Finally, her emotions got the better of her and she wept bitter tears; for her sister, for those outside, for her and her husband...for everyone.

    "Oh Arthur," she whispered, unable to say anything else.

    What else could she say? Nothing she could say would comfort him, and nothing he could say would comfort her. Nor make any of this right.

    -

    Back on the balcony, Christian, delighting in everything, gripped Bella's hand and chatted to her as the prisoners screamed and died below them. He might as well have been at the races or some other leisure, than watching women suffer and die.

    He leant in to whisper, "They love you, my darling. See how they call out and clap for you. You have won their hearts. Such is not easy; the commons are a fickle mob, but as the Romans taught us -pagan brutes though they were- bread and circuses work wonders. But of course, they cannot love you more than I."

    They stood a while longer before, finally, the smoke of the bonfires below became too thick and the King drew his beloved inside and had the doors and windows closed and covered. "Now, my darling, more gifts!" He drew her through the crowds to a table set before the two thrones. "Come, let us sit and we shall see what you have been given."

    He handed her up the stairs and into her throne, as if she was not capable of such, and then took his own place beside her, his hand reaching out to take hers...as if he could not bear to be away from her touch.

    A footman stepped forward, plucked a gift from the table and brought it to the new Queen, kneeling before her to present it. This was due to go on for some time...in order of precedence downwards, each lord and lady had sent a gift for both the King and Queen upon their wedding day.

    The first gift was from Alexandra, as Princess of Wales, and to the Queen. Another footman came forward with one from Arthur, to his father.

    While the King, as greedy as a child, was busy opening his, Bella opened hers with more grace. The box was small but what was within was priceless...outwardly, because it was a rosary of diamonds and pearls, strung on gold with beautiful and tiny details worked into the gems and goldsmith work...to her because, when she looked closer -something Alex, and now she, could well assume her husband would never do- she found that between each diamond and pearl, on the gold spheres were the initials of her and her husband.

    Not C and A...as was now fitting and correct, but R and A, tiny, hidden and secret, but there, on something Bella would and could have near her at all times and touch often. She would find later too, that the larger, golden oval that, on the outside contained a relief of the Virgin and child, opened to reveal a miniature of Beatrix. It was so well done, and so well hidden.

    Truly, in such a court, a perfect gift.

    Christian, having opened his own gift of a jeweled pocket watch, bearing the Royal Monogram of C and A intertwined, looked over and smiled, "Ah, a new rosary...A well chosen gift, even from a heretic. Your sister," he reached over and touched the diamonds, as if weighing their worth before pulling back and releasing it from his grip, "Has taste at least in this regard. Do not thank her though. From her you deserve all this and more."
    "Ye mustn't be afraid to ask for help. Pride is a good thing, my girl, but it will kill you in time." - Granny Weatherwax

  7. #377
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    Arabella found herself now seated on a throne beside her husband. The ornate chairs for all of their hand carved, dark wooden beauty, with cushions that bore her monogram (impressively quickly made) were rather uncomfortable. Or perhaps it was her that was truly uncomfortable and the elaborate chair had nothing to do with it. For as long as she was able, Arabella held on to Christian's hand. Not squeezing too tightly as to appear desperate, but enough to appear eager. The Queen could not help but imagine the cruelty of the bedroom if he delighted in such torture outside of it. At least Arabella felt a modicum of relief to not actively be watching the 'festivities', but ultimately she knew they still suffered and she could not change that.

    "Thank you." Arabella spoke softly to the footman who presented her with the first gift. Politeness was something she had to work towards, as she had not always been so inclined. When it was opened and revealed the rosary, Arabella immediately knew there were hidden components. Alexandra was much too clever to let detail slide. Visually when looking ever so closely at the ornate rosary, she noted the R & A. That alone would bring a smile to face. Her fingertips traced every inch of it, feeling for hinges and latches until she found them. But here, she dare not open it. Arabella knew what was inside, and her heart would sing in relief. The kindness Alexandra continued to demonstrate was heartening to the Queen.

    "Of course my darling, I will thank her. I will also write our notes of thanks to all who attended and those who gave gifts." Arabella understood her role, and having served so many years as a most high ranking Duchess, it was all familiar. The only difference is how she signed her name. Arabella looked at the room around her, and thought to take advantage, and rather simply get something over with. "Everyone, thank you for assistance, please leave us. I wish to have a moment with the King, no interruptions." Arabella waited patiently for the room to clear and the doors to seal before she turned her attention to her husband and breathed deeply. "There is but one gift I can give you." Arabella stood, and began to remove her finery, right there, in the throne room. "The gift is me, and what I can give you in future. Do you accept it?" Understanding this would be a violent, and painful act, Arabella gave herself freely to fulfill her duty as Queen and potentially mother. Waiting only made her task more painful. Aside from that, she felt Christian might enjoy the idea of being in the throne room, his literal seat of power.

    --

    The safest place in the Palace, aside from servants quarters which no noble would trod into, would have to have been the nursery. With no child in sight, no one aside from the maid who conducted the weekly clean ever entered these rooms. They were alone. Arthur understanding Alex's plight moved to wrap his arms about her and to hold her as tightly as he could without bringing her any harm.

    "All we need is to focus on our joy. What we have coming, not what is happening with all of this. It's just a game, and that means we too can win. You needn't worry." Arthur was not exactly lying, he knew they would be okay. He wasn't sure how, or what the future would bring, but something deep within him said they would alright, or perhaps it was simply that hope springs eternal.

    Alice had finally found the couple and quietly entered the room. "I suspected this would be your hideout." Alice smiled brightly and made her way over to the Princess where she handed her the note. "You have time before dinner, I can stay outside and keep watch if you'd like."
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  8. #378
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    Alexandra smiled at Alice, and took the note she offered. She read it and breathed a soft sigh. At least, as long as it was not all a game or a double bluff, Bella was genuinely acting and not becoming cruel for her own pleasure once more. She showed it to Arthur and smiled once more at the mention of the young Duke. She had only seen him in passing.

    "I do not know him, do you?" She asked, gesturing to Alice to sit down. "Take a seat, Alice, standing outwith will only cause someone to wonder who is inside; I do not want talk created. And besides," she smiled and squeezed her hand gently, "You are my dearest friend, and I have no secrets from you. You know I spoke of finding you a good match? Well, my sister recommends I introduce you to the young Duke of Kent and I shall, but only if you consent. I can point him out to you at the ball and you can tell me what you think of him...Not that looks are all but still," she chuckled. "They help!"

    She looked at her husband and blushed prettily. It was no secret that she found him to be the most handsome man she had ever seen.

    -

    Christian had blinked when she dismissed everyone but was soon on board with her thinking. He smirked and shifted in his throne, his hand under his chin, one finger over his lips, eyes alight with passion and something darker. He saw in this woman something he had not been sure of before. Now he was convinced of it. His little wife was the other half of his soul. He had seen how she had delighted in cruelty before their marriage with her sister and her servants, and any who fell foul of her.

    Now, as Queen, he would give her as many victims as she could desire. But first...

    He smirked and watched as she, slowly -given the layers and complex ties and ribbons- disrobed before him. He moved not a finger to help her. It did not even occur to him to do such. He wanted her to struggle, and to overcome, in her desire to please him.

    "Leave the jewels," he said, when she moved to take off her heavy diamond necklace. "I want you as God intended...wearing only what I have given you," he chuckled, taking great pleasure in this degrading display. "Come...kneel here, at my feet..."
    "Ye mustn't be afraid to ask for help. Pride is a good thing, my girl, but it will kill you in time." - Granny Weatherwax

  9. #379
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    Arabella did as she was told, kneeling before the man who not only ruled her country, but now ruled her. The new Queen surrendered herself, and for all intents and purposes committed to acting the role she had taken a hold of. No matter what he did, she smiled, she was enthralled and acted as if nothing, no matter how cruel, had given her greater pleasure. She was every bit the thing the King needed, despite her own personal torment. When the act had concluded, the Queen found herself on the floor, wrapped now in nothing but the ermine fur and jewelry he commanded stay on looked at her husband. In her eyes there was no disgust, there was nothing. She acted to be the wife the wanted, no matter the personal cost.

    Of course, there was only one hope after this, that she was pregnant. The fur wrapped tightly around her, she began to notice the bruises that stayed, those on her wrists, her abdomen, she felt the pain of her neck. He caused her no trauma to her face, was she to be thankful?

    "Was I enough, my darling, my King?" Arabella asked, while remaining perfectly stationary, almost out of breath from their rigorous activity. She needed to have pleased him, despite the abuse, the violence of the act, it was imperative he felt that she loved him. On a specific level Arabella could only feel that she deserved such horror, she had been so cruel for so many years, this was now her reward, or perhaps in another light, her punishment. Arabella deserved to suffer, but she would suffer with grace and dignity.

    --

    "Kent?" Arthur asked with furrowed brow, he thought for just a moment before recalling the detail. "Young man, particularly quiet... It would seem he is always thinking of something, even if he seldom says it. Handsome. Very much the opposite of his father who passed not too long ago." Few had managed to notice the former Duke's passing as the country was consumed with the drama of the Royals, the marriage of the Prince, the death of the Duke, the marriage of the King. Who had time to care for anyone else?

    "He has a particular interest in the arts, a devoted patron. Actually, my dearest, you have met him. You may not remember this, but it was almost a decade past at Manderley. We were but children then." Arthur laughed a bit, smiling at a memory he had almost forgotten.

    "As Alex said, it would be your choice, but he would not be ill fitted, at least not on the surface." Arthur acknowledged that beauty was skin deep and it was hard to know someone truly.

    Alice on the other hand found herself all blushing."A duke would never marry me." She looked to the ground and brushed her feet against the floor. "I'm nothing, a commoner, the lowest of the low. Such ideas are fantasy." Alice was modest, and in fairness acknowledged the tremendous effort it would take. Though if the Queen and the Princess of Wales supported her, she might have a chance. Of course, she would need to like him.
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  10. #380
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    Alexandra smiled at her maid and friend. "Alice, until recently I was the lowest of the low in my own circle; a Duchess's sister, yes, but one who was the butt of every jest and cruel taunt, the person it was perfectly acceptable to put down. And now," she glanced at her husband, a shy smile on her lips, "And now I am the most happy in my marriage, that brought me the perfect match, as well as the station that comes with it."

    "Now," she laughed softly, "I know it is not quite the same. I was a different class than my husband but still, it was not unheard of for a royal to marry a lady of my rank but it is also not unheard of for a Duke to marry a commoner...if he loves her. But all of this is up to you. We shall, at the feast, see what you think of him. Arthur can introduce me, and I will talk to him, and you can take his measure and...if you can, ensure he notices you."

    Alex winked then looked at her husband, "I feel I am giving away state secrets of being a Lady, but I know you can be trusted to keep silent about them!" She leant over and kissed his cheek, "As for children...Yes, I have a vague memory of you actually! You did not have such long hair then and your ears stuck out," she giggled softly, "You were so shy of your ears."

    -

    Christian, who had delighted in inflicting his pleasure upon his bride and finding she enjoyed it too, smirked, "It was perfect, my darling...We shall have more of it later, you can be sure of it." His fingers traced the bruises that had begun to bloom. "You wear my marks...forgive me, I was rough darling. I should not have been so, not with you."

    He sat up and cracked his neck and began to dress. Evidently he was not the type of man to embrace afterwards and talk; his pleasure had been had, he had, for now, lost interesting. Knowing Arabella could not dress herself once more without help, he strode, wearing only his shirt, to the door and opened it, making the footman outside jump.

    "Find my wife's maid and bring her here," he barked before closing the door. "I shall adjourn and dress nextdoor, my darling."

    He left, without a glance back at her. It was most odd. He had been all over her, even before bedding her, and now...had his desire and passion really cooled after one 'event' as it were with her?
    "Ye mustn't be afraid to ask for help. Pride is a good thing, my girl, but it will kill you in time." - Granny Weatherwax

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