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

[Hannelorian]

"When our wives were children..." Arthur began knowing full well he might upset his father, though he hoped not too terribly. "They were taught all number of prayers, but if you were to ask either one of them which one they remember most fervently, it is rather simple." The Prince brought himself to smile as though reflecting on a happy memory or tale, but it was rather the opposite. "Give me children else I die." Arthur shook his head, a part of relieved even if he would not admit it as such that his wife had in fact given him not one but two wonderful children. "They prayed to God every night, begged him to give them children one day. Though I suspect what they both truly meant, was to give them sons."

Arthur inhaled slowly on the cigar, generally he was not one for such things but this holiday season seemed an appropriate time for such indulgences and moments with his father. "Sons inherit, sons determine their success as wives. That's all they've ever been taught. And while you may tell Arabella you would be thrilled with a daughter, that it would not change her standing your eyes, it changes her standing in the law. And she would never believe you." The Prince looked up to the ceiling and sighed.

"Think of her suffering. Years spent with an old man, the most fertile and prime years of her life and God gave her nothing. But therein lies just how special she is. How unique, magical, a unicorn of sorts of women." Arthur mused rather interestedly, though he left out his copious notes on Arabella's cruelty. "The late Duke disposed of two women who could bear him no children. But he kept her around. No matter how many times she failed, he kept her there in his clutches. He would never let her go. Now isn't that something? A man who had failed so miserably at her own duty was so beloved he would have stayed with her an eternity if he could." The great love between Arabella and Richard was arguably their own redeeming quality for their time together.

"And not just him. Even before my beloved mother died, the moment Arabella because the Duchess of Suffolk, she may as well have been Queen. Everyone at court listened to her, followed her. They begged to keep her company, to be invited to her legendary parties. The proverbial belle of the ball. She defied what her place she have been and ascended to such great heights." Arthur look a long sip on the drink in his hand.

"The country adores her, truly. She's your biggest asset. And she would do anything for you. It doesn't matter what Arabella's reasons are... but she would. She would stab Alex through the heart, her own sister if you commanded such of her. She's remarkable woman, beautiful, if not a little old fashioned. Her elegance and grace is virtually unobtainable by anyone else. And yet nothing in her life is truly safe if she doesn't have a son." Arthur in his ignorance could not see the irony of the statement, that even a son wasn't enough to keep her safe. After all, as far as he knew, his mother was dead.

"It's very kind of you to allow for separate events. Alex will be truly grateful to have that moment with the children. And having Her Majesty there will make Alex equally happy. The distance between the two of them has been difficult on Alex. Though now she will have more than her hands full with the children to keep her busy. And of course nothing would take away from the grandeur of the Queen's event when the time comes. The nation shall rejoice in the birth of the child, and they should not be deprived of their Queen's grace and serenity."

Arthur reflected for a moment further. "The new Duchess of Kent would be a fine choice, certainly a strong candidate." Arthur made no motion to correct his father that her name was in fact Alice. He wouldn't care, nor would he retain that information or worse, he already knew that it was Alice and he simply chose to use the wrong name, perhaps to irritate. He supposed it didn't matter. "You are making up for everything now. This is a wonderful Christmas so far. I can't wait to see how it continues. As for the Godfather, I have not yet decided."

[DuchessLivilla]

The King frowned at his son's words, his gaze on the fire in the grate. "Give me children or else I die," he said softly, mulling over the words it seemed. "I remember my mother saying that when we prayed in the chapel...I asked about it and she merely said it was a woman's prayer. I gave it no more thought..."

He sipped his brandy, lost in thoughts of what his son had said. Finally he said, "I see, lad. I think understand. The prayer was set down in the bible, I recognise it from the tale of the handmaid Bilah...A woman's value comes from her ability to have children only, and more so sons as their inherit and so my dear wife believes this firmly. Thus what I say shall have no effect. Funny, really," he said, without any humour. "Normally she listens to what I say. I see it is more than that though. She shall only be happy if she has a son, no matter what I say. Well, I shall speak no more on daughters then."

He nodded, half to himself, "The Queen is a pious woman and I shall not correct her in this, nor go against Father Lennox, who I am sure has said the same to her. We must have a son, for her sakes...I fear she shall never be happy if it is a daughter..."

Christian chewed his lip then drained his glass of brandy, refilling it without a thought. Time of day or what he had to do next were never any bar to him drinking as much as he wished. He had a good tolerance for it, after all, and a few glasses would not concern him. He had been a heavy drinker since he was a teenager and was not about to stop now.

He was firmly of the view that 'a King can do as he likes'. Time would tell whether the rest of his country agreed.

"Ah yes, Richard," Christian chuckled. "I could not quite believe he managed to win her. I was shocked, I must admit. I had always had my eye on Arabella for some years." The fact that Bella married Richard when she was all of 18, it was a bit disconcerting to hear the King say he had 'had his eye' on the young woman long before that. Especially given that he was yet married at that point. He chuckled, "We all jested about him. It was clearly his fault there were no children...The second Duchess had a bastard in the mad-house, you know! So clearly it was not her...Of course, we teach the ladies that it is never the husband. It cannot be the husband but everyone knew it was..."

Neither man knew, and it was just as well that Bella wasn't there to hear it and be terrified, that they were hovering rather close to an uncomfortable, if not fatal, point here! One never knew how the King's mind worked...how easy it would be for him to slowly put two and two together here...If it was Richard's fault and he had never had a child from any wife...until some years into his marriage with Arabella...surely...the question would be who had helped his wife with that little issue?!

"Of course, he was as pious a man as could be. I was often touched by his devotion to his faith and then to Bella. A fine and decent man, even if he had what I wanted." The King swirled his brandy around his glass thoughtfully. "Truly, he was a good man...I often miss him in councils. He had a way about him that was amusing and useful. I was, genuinely, overjoyed when the Queen found herself finally pregnant by him. He deserved a legacy, something all men want. A shame he did not long live to see the child...nor the child be long for the world."

Christian sighed, "Still, it proved the Queen was right for the role she now has. I might have thought twice...As I said, we all knew it was Richard's fault but still...who was to say it was not an issue for both? Once she had the child, I knew she was suitable."

He might as well have been speaking of a cow in the Royal dairies not a flesh and blood woman he claimed to care about.

"Stab her sister?" The King laughed and took a drink. "Would she really?" He added, gazing at his son with a blank expression for a moment; one couldn't tell if he was jesting or thinking about demanding it just to see what would happen. Then he laughed and the moment passed. Somewhat. "Ah, I doubt that lad. Not that I would ever demand it of her. It would damn her soul and I would never risk the Queen's heavenly realm like that."

Stabbing her sister to death and the loss and grief to both the Queen, Arthur and their children, as well as the pain to Alexandra were not the issue, of course...just the Queen going to heaven...So that was nice to know!

"You are correct though. The people love her deeply. Of course," he laughed jovially, "They love me also. I am their father, in a way, and they love and respect me, but it is not the same. One always loves one's mother more than one's father, I know that myself. She does her duty well as a Queen. Of course," he smirked, "I have never been overly concerned about the people's love...it is not needed, as far as I am concerned. I shall be respected and obeyed. Love...." he made a face at the very idea. "What need of that have we?"

Had Alexandra been there, she might, to test the waters have brought up the French Revolution, and told him exactly what happened when the Royals lost the love of the commons. Of course, Christian in his arrogance would have ignored it. Or said something along the lines of how fickle the French were. That would never happen here, he was quite sure of it.

Christian beamed, "Ah, that warms my heart lad, to hear you tell me. I hoped I had made some amends. We all make mistakes, after all. But it is all in the past now. We shall have a fine time. A real family Christmas. I only wish the children were a little older. How much fun they would have. Still, that time will come!"

[Hannelorian]

The Queen and Princess of Wales briefly parted ways, Arabella to attend to the final preparations and Alex to fetch her newborn children who would be featured in the day's celebrations. The room which Arabella entered, a soft blue drawing room, had been entirely transformed. The rugs and furniture had been removed leaving only the bare wooden floor, which by this point had been covered in straw and hay almost entirely (save for right near the hearth, lest one have a fire!). A wooden structure had been erected within the room with all the features of the manger.

Arabella had even had some livestock, sheep and the like brought in to fill out the scene. No expense had been spared to create the perfect scene for the tableau. The costumes were hand made in appropriate fabrics, all chosen by the Queen herself. Each member of court who was participated had been purposely selected for their roles. After all, not just anyone could portray the blessed Virgin Mary. The figures had been dressed and with Arabella's guidance each person was carefully placed and positioned. The room smelled of animal and hay, something that would undoubtedly take someone a great deal of time to remedy when this was all over.

To say the Queen was pleased with herself would have been an understatement. Arabella did everything in her power to bring the spirit of Christmas to Windsor, to the Royal family and to Court itself. This would be the last the men and women of court would see of the Royals this holiday. Arabella was the embodiment of everything a Queen of England was supposed to be, she gave entirely of herself and richly rewarded the servants for making her visions come to life.

As Alexandra would re-emerge the Queen would quietly send word to her husband through a servant that all was prepared and ready for the event.

Arthur had absorbed what his father had said and strongly resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Much like his wife would have been reminded of the French Revolution and the danger of disenfranchising one's people, he had much the same idea though would prefer to stay silent on the issue. What did, however, weigh on his mind was a funny little notion. Richard's death had been most convenient. Arabella had proven she could become pregnant. Arthur wondered for the smallest of moments whether it was possible that his father had a hand in the man's untimely death. Yes, he was ill. But it all just seemed so terribly sudden. Especially given how Arabella had barely left his side.

Arthur thought little more of it when a knock at the door, and a beckoning to enter. A footman bowed and moved up to the King where he whispered into his ear that the time had come for the tableau.

[DuchessLivilla]

Alexandra entered the room and stopped, marvelling at it all. "My word!" She exclaimed, "Animals too! Bella, you have outdone yourself...I am hearing mama's voice in the back of my mind, screaming about dirt!" She laughed, "Really, it looks wonderful."

She was carrying her son, and her maid had Victoria; once again, it was on purpose...Alex having hold of the precious heir. She smiled at the baby then said to the Queen, "I thought perhaps Vicky for the infant Jesus rather than this little one. He has been a little fussy and I would hate for it to ruin the display."

The Princess knew full well her sister would understand her true motives; no way was she going to have her son, the hope of the future and the one at risk if anything were to happen, away from her surrounded by the King's cronies. An 'accident' could easily happy. Victoria was far safer, not to mention, the King fairly doted on her and seem genuine. He would not harm her.

"Is the King taking part or just viewing?" She asked, smiling. One never knew with Christian. He might have wanted to be in it, showing off. Or suddenly decide to and throw it all into chaos.

--

The King looked up at the footman and listened then nodded, drained his glass and abandoned his half finished cigar in the marble ashtray beside him. "We are summoned!" He chuckled, "I was not allowed to help much in the Queen's plans so I have no idea what it shall all entail. I am merely under orders to enjoy the show."

He clapped his son on the back and they set off together. "I remember a tableau* when I was a child. India was very much the thing then being so new and all things Indian were hungrily sought by the court. It was a magical scene I must say, with real costumes from India and music and so on. I was...oh, about six I would say, and I had to be bribed to leave the room when it was done. I was enchanted by it. I had quite forgotten that until now...I must look into India, see how it is doing. I cannot go, of course, such a shame, but perhaps you and the Princess could in my stead. A state visit..."

He nodded, pondering that. "I shall think on it. Ah, here we are," they reached the double doors into the blue room. The liveried footman swept the doors open and Arabella's vision was unveiled. Christian, like Alex before him, stopped and stared, mouth parted in amazement as he took it all in. The wooden structure, the straw, the animals, the courtiers all arranged as they should be in their lavish costumes.

It was as if the nativity had come to life.

Set up before the scene were rows of chairs for the guests; the royals having arrived first before the rest would be allowed in. Christian crossed to his wife and embraced her, grinning, "Darling, you have outdone yourself, again! It is wonderous. Truly! A donkey too, my word...I always loved donkeys. A very noble animal."

He abandoned his wife, and rather like a child, hurried to the donkey and stroked it's ears, grinning happily.

While the King amused himself, Arthur would find his wife seated, little Alec in her arms, contentedly sleeping. Victoria was sleeping in the manger, looking the picture of innocence. Alex smiled at her husband and said, as if making conversation but really assuring him that she had their son, "Doesn't she look sweet there? Quite the little angel."



*A fave of the Victorians, involving dressing up as characters from a tale or the Bible or similar, and standing before an audience. Sometimes the tale would be read out to the crowd as well, or music played. No words were spoken. When photography became a thing, the scene would be recorded and saved in special albums.

[Hannelorian]

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief to realize that their son was currently in the custody of his mother. While he hated the idea of the fact that the world, or at least their world, valued his son more than his daughter, it was nevertheless true. Especially in their current situation. Arthur smiled softly and took a seat beside his wife, for a moment his head coming to rest on her shoulder. "Indeed, she is resplendent." Arthur had barely taken a look around, he had been so laser focused on his children from the moment he entered the room.

But now he could breathe, at least slightly so, and in that exhaled deeply and sat up straight this time to place a kiss atop Alexandra's head. "Just like her mother." He finished his thought, essentially following up on the earlier comment. Alexandra looked a vision, and to his mind there was no other woman who could compare to her, she was the only one he would ever have eyes for, from their first day, to his very last day. Slowly but surely his eyes began to scour the room, taking in exactly what was unfolding around him.

"My word." Arthur for a moment found himself entirely speechless. "Is... is that....a?" Arthur paused for a moment as he caught sight of his father "A donkey?" Arthur chuckled, of course his father of all men would find kinship with the only other ass in the room. "Like a moth to a flame I suppose." He shook his head wrapped an arm now around Alex. "Bella has truly outdone herself. This... is impressive. The papers will be writing about it for ages." Especially about their darling child at the center of the nativity, but that was a rather personal point of satisfaction.

"If your Christmases were as this growing up, no wonder you both have such a reverence for the holiday." Arthur felt at home at Windsor for the first time in ages, he felt comfortable, the warmth of his family, even the warmth of his father to a limited extent. This is what his life was meant to be, and who he was meant to spend it with.

Arabella leant into the embrace of her husband, and following that she clapped her hands together and gave a tremendous smile as he drifted off toward the donkey. At least he was distracted and she could take a moment for herself. Just a single moment to embrace her accomplishment and feel genuinely proud of herself and the work she had done. The validation from her husband, her sister, of course that was pleasant... but for a little bit she felt she needn't nothing more than her own praises.

"Let the wolves in." Arabella said quietly to one of the servants who would open the set of doors on the opposite side where the remaining members of court were waiting. And as they filed in, Arabella did what she did best. She entertained, she hosted. She indulged in conversations, accepted the compliments and offered some of her own in turn.

[DuchessLivilla]

Alexandra smiled at her husband and leant against him, turning her head to kiss his cheek before she looked back down at the sleeping child in her arms. She looked up again when he spoke and chuckled, "Indeed. A placid creature, thank god. I heard one of the servants grumbling...the goats, apparently, were less happy to be taken in here. A pair of curtains paid the price...half eaten as they passed."

She smiled, glancing at her sister as she did, "Oh yes, Bella does nothing by half from decorations to politics. Of course," she laughed, "Our family Christmases were not as grand as this nor would my mother have ever allowed any livestock in her drawing room! But it was just as pleasant. It was...the one day when things were relaxed, I suppose, in a way. Our parents wanted to make the best of it all; the outside didn't matter on that day. Papa's plans didn't matter. It was just a family enjoying themselves."

The Princess rested her head on his shoulder once more, not caring a lot for how she was meant to behave -stiff and formal in public, even to one's husband at court- as the doors were opened and the courtiers flooded in one by one, each staring around in awed and delighted shock. They took their seats, in order of precedence -the highest ranking at the front and so on- and awaited further orders from either the King, who had moved on from the donkey to his granddaughter.

He had taken her from the manger and was carrying her around, telling the sleepy baby all about the characters and animals in the tableau. He seemed a different person when holding Victoria, and both parents noticed several council members watching, half-confused, half-fearful.

The King turned, babe in arms, to the the gathered court and grinned, "Is the Princess not the most precious thing you have ever seen?" Of course, everyone murmured the expected words. Not that, for once, the King would have noticed either way. He had eyes only for the baby.

Alex glanced at her sister and swallowed. She knew this must be paining her even if she hid it. She prayed silently the King would put the infant down and make much of Bella and her display. It was the least his long-suffering wife deserved!

Whether her prayers were answered, or the King was keen to show off, he, thankfully, smiled at the baby, kissed her forehead, and replaced her in the manger before returning to his wife and taking her hand to kiss it. "My dear. You have, again, outdone yourself. I beg you," he chuckled, "Stop. Or else you shall exhaust yourself in constant competition with your own achievements."

Acting or genuinely solicitous for her care, he escorted her to her chair, to the right of Arthur, and sat down beside her, the Queen to his left, and the Duke of Norfolk to his right. Christian rested his hand on hers and smiled, "We are in your hands, my angel, to begin the display. But please, remain seated, you have been on your feet far too long today. I am sure the Prince and Princess shall agree with me," he added, carrying on the show of family unity.

Alexandra merely smiled and nodded, allowing Arthur to answer with words if he wished. She would give no one cause to think she was trying to be above her husband.

[Hannelorian]

The Queen watched the King with the baby, and for once her sister's wisdom had prevailed. She could not get upset. She could not show any dissatisfaction, she could not leave the room to weep. It would have been easy to allow her anger take over, to snap in some devilish display. But no, Arabella remained calm and only smiled as her husband doted over her sister's daughter instead of her own. Arabella so deeply missed her daughter that it threatened at times to break her. Not today. Today Arabella smiled warmly as she watched, the appearance of a happy family reigned supreme. The Queen moved to take her seat at the behest of her husband and with his guidance.

It wasn't until she sat down that the wave of exhaustion finally washed over her. Arabella had not taken a rest nor a break. She worked and remained on her feet and didn't complain a damn moment about it. But now she conceded to her condition, she was desperately tired and had over worked herself to ensure everything was perfect. Arthur of course chimed in to agree with his father, at least for the sake of those who were around them.

"Yes, mama, you must take it easy. You haven't far to go now, you'll need your rest as Alexandra knows all too well." Arthur wanted to say, as Arabella knew all too well, for she too had already been through this once. But Arthur did not bring up the memory and instead turned to his beloved wife and nodded softly. He gently wrapped an arm around his wife's back as she held their son tenderly.

Arabella raised a hand into the air, a signal to the staff, one they were eagerly awaiting. The Queen snapped her fingers, and lowered her hand. A door in the rear of the room, just behind the nativity scene had opened and Six figures entered, dressed to the nines. Four of them carried a string instrument with them, a violin, cello, and the like. One figure had a thin piece of metal in his gloved hand, the conductor no doubt. The quartet took their places in their respective chairs and with the okay of the conductor they began to play softly. The last man who had entered stood off to the side and would begin to read the story of the nativity and of the birth of Christ. His voice was deep and booming, to be heard by all and above the soft music which carried the weight of the occasion.

Arabella felt at peace as she listened to the story and gazed upon the scene. Not even Christian could take this away from her, or ruin it. It was simple beauty, elegance. A time honored story and display, a message of birth and hope. Her hands rested then upon her stomach take such joy in each kick or movement she felt. Occasionally she'd take Christian's hand and place it upon her, so he too could feel the joy of the life that was growing within her. When it all finally ended the assembled court would rise in their chairs and give a thunderous applause for the performance, but mostly for the display as put on by the Queen. Arabella remained seated but smiled and waved rather warmly. Thank God it was over.

[DuchessLivilla]

The show was spectacular, Alex could not deny it; the Queen had outdone herself in everyway possible. Even the finest theatres in London would be hard-done by to do what she had done. Of course, they did not have access to the privy purse as she did, but even so. The scene before them looked like a painting done by an old Master, something that gloried the tale and the wonderous event.

Those chosen to play the roles did it beautifully too, which added to the whole effect. Alexandra had to hand it to the woman playing Mary...She was gazing down into the manger, where Victoria lay, awake but peaceful, with such love and adoration, it was entirely believable that this was a new mother looking at her new-born.

Alex leant into her husband and said softly, "I wonder how the real Mary felt about it all. It must have been an immense pressure to know you were now responsible for the Lord's child. A prince and princess is pressure enough!"

They sat and listened to the soft music and the telling of the tale, all the while Alex and her husband looked from their daughter to their son and to each other, very clearly a happy, deeply in love couple. Those courtiers seated behind the young couple were, even after seeing it already, rather amazed by it; royalties did not have love matches very often and while love did come to some marriages, most could only hope for respect.

Still, it did not sit easy with most who witnessed it. Marriage was a duty, not a pleasure. And it went against this established view that the Prince of Wales, current heir to England, should be so infatuated with his wife. A mistress, maybe, a wife? Never.

Christian, as usual, was oblivious to anything that did not directly concern him, and as such he didn't give a glance to his son or daughter-in-law. He did, however, beam and stroke Bella's stomach every time she drew his attention to the baby kicking. "Our little Henry is kicking strongly, my love," he whispered proudly. "A little knight in training, I wager. Or perhaps little Eleanor is practicing her dancing..."

He kissed her cheek then returned to watching, smiling to himself in a self-satisfied way.

As the show drew to a close and, as if on demand, the crowd behind the Royals stood and cheered and clapped, the noise caused Victoria and her brother to jump and begin crying from the noise. The King hastily stood and turned to them, scowling, "Hush!" He snapped, "Do not be so loud in your applause. The Queen, I am sure, would rather her niece and nephew were not scared to death by your nonsense! Gentle applause will do!"

While he was laying down the law, Alexandra gently passed her son to his father to soothe him, and rose to fetch her daughter from the manger. She smiled at the cast of players in the tableau, all of whom looked startled by the crying child and appeared unsure if they should do something. After all, the baby was a Princess and there might be a punishment for touching her!

Alex lifted her baby up and cradled her, gently soothing her from her shock of the sudden noise and thumping of hands and feet in applause. She appeared quite the natural with the child, soothing her in seconds and going back to her husband.

Christian met her on route, looking concerned, "Is the little one alright?" He asked, with such tenderness it made Alex blink before she recovered to reply.

"Yes, your Majesty, just a little fright, the children shall be fine, I assure you," she smiled but made no move to hand him her daughter to him.

The King got the hint and nodded, turning back to his court as Alex slipped past to sit down once more, beaming as if he had not just shouted at them all like naughty children, "Well I thank you all for coming to our little Christmas but now I must dismiss you all to your homes and families. The Queen and I wish to have a family Christmas ourselves, one such as she has been used to," he looked at Bella and smiled kindly. It almost looked real.

"I know we normally have a grand ceremony of gift giving and such to myself and my Queen but I have no taste for it this time. Your gifts can be left here and I shall hand them to my family myself."

The courtiers started to move, bowing or curtsying and wishing the Royals a Merry Christmas. One or two councillors stopped to try and ask about when business would resume but were quickly shut down by Christian, "No, no, none of that!" He snapped. "There shall be no business until the new year. I wish to hear no business until 1867," he chuckled. "Enjoy your time away from court, my Lords. No one is to appear here unless invited. No court days, nothing, until I say. If you hear nothing from myself or my dearly beloved Queen...I do not wish to see any of you until the new year."

This was rather unprecedented. There was always a ball on New Years Eve. Always. Even in mourning the King had gone ahead with it! Still more than one courtier left Windsor that day knowing that the King was so changable...it was entirely likely they would be summoned the on the 30th of December, to prepare for a ball on the 31st as normal.

As the room emptied, the King turned to his family and smiled happily, "Ah, much better, just us. Now..." he helped Bella to stand and embraced her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder briefly, "I have ordered that a dinner for just us, oh and Father Lennox, be held this evening as well as some entertainments for us but until then, I am sure we could all do with a rest. You must," he nodded to Arthur and Alexandra, "Treat Windsor as your own home and enjoy it's pleasures. Relax, take a stroll in the gardens, go riding...whatever you wish. It shall just be family and the servants."

[Hannelorian]

Arthur held on to his son tenderly, showing all of the affection one anticipated from a father. He could have spent hours just trapped in that little microcosm, the world just as he and his son knew it. He was distracted by his father barking his usual orders. Telling the assembled crowd to hush up, and to be so taken by the startling of his daughter. If Arthur was honest he was simply eager to have his daughter back in the arms of Alexandra, and when she was, he could sigh in relief. His girls were safe.

Arthur too, was amazed by what Arabella had executed. Even beyond the show and the decorations, she had managed to convince his father to abandon some of the pomp and circumstance and send everyone away. It was just going to be the family. A novel notion, something he had never expected. As the courtiers began to file out, he greeted and chatted with a few. Many commenting on how delightful the children were, how well behaved for children just a few days old.

When the room had finally emptied save for the Royal couples and of course the children, Arabella smiled softly. "I am grateful to each and every one of you for being here. A family Christmas means the world to me." Her words were warm and sincere. "Though if you will all excuse me, I fear I have pushed myself too hard in my condition and need to rest before the evening meal." Arabella chuckled a bit, but the reality of her pregnancy and the work she had done were setting in. She was exhausted. But more so, she longed for time with Anthony to herself.

As though no one else were present the Queen slipped around to stand before her husband. Her arms wrapping around his waste she drew herself closer to him, leaning up to kiss him. "Thank my love. This is more than I could have asked for." Arabella was grateful, in his own way Christian had shown kindness and generosity. Stepping away she turned to her sister. "Sister, you too must rest. Your body has been through quite a bit." Arabella smiled and simply looked at Arthur, nodding her head before departing the room with her usual guard in tow. Passing by one servant she bid them a greeting and requested her Priest be sent for.

"Thank you father." Arthur said firmly as stood beside Alexandra. "We shall prepare for this evening, and perhaps take that stroll you were mentioning." Arthur nodded his head and along with Alexandra too departed the drawing room for their chambers, the babies were growing restless after such a show. "Wasn't she splendid? She didn't cry at all!" Arthur exclaimed rather proudly to his wife of their daughter's performance in the nativity scene.

[DuchessLivilla]

Alex nodded and smiled to her sister, kissing her cheek before she left. She dropped a neat and perfunctory curtsey to the King, thanking him for his kindness and all that...She knew full well he was watching Bella leave and likely had not even heard her but she would give no hint of letting rules slip.

Outside however, once the doors had closed and they were alone, bar the servants at the door who were soon left behind as they walked, the Princess gave a proper laugh, "Yes...until the courtiers decided to set them crying. It's been a long while since they'd have a baby at court I suppose. You, actually, must have been the last. It was, I admit, rather funning to hear the noise then it being cut off as your father turned on them like a bear. I am cruel, maybe, but it was nice to see his ire directed at someone else."

She gaze down at her daughter, now settled and half asleep once more, her little fist pressed to her cheek. A fine dusting of dark hair, as dark as her parents, crowning her head. In fact, between the two children, they looked almost identical. Alex wondered, as they walked, how much that would remain. She knew from portraits that she and Bella had once looked very similar though her own baby blonde hair had darkened to black and her sister's had not.

At that thought, she laughed a little and shook her head. It was amusing to think, once upon a time, they had looked so similar, and yet, a year ago, Bella had been called the most beautiful, and Alex herself was considered a failure. She made a vow, there and then, to make sure none of her children were pitted against one another. Not one would know favouritism if she could help it.

Arthur, despite being an only child, felt the same, she knew. He might not have been compared to anyone -bar his father as princes always were- but he had seen and heard enough to know the damage it had done to his wife's relationship with her sister.

As they reached their rooms, the two soldiers on the door clicking their heels and bowing to them, Alexandra gave a relieved sigh and moved through to the bedroom, laying the now sleeping Vicky in her cradle. She smiled at the child, adjusted the cover then straightened, rubbing her back as she did. It was her first time back in a proper dress with stays and it was telling on her.

"Arthur?" She turned, "Would you mind if I begged off a walk and had a bath first? Everything is aching and all I've done little enough. I'm sure we have plenty of time to walk the gardens after. The King seems most solicitous for Bella's health and by God she needs her rest."

--

Father Lennox had been left in Arabella's room, ostensibly to look over her papers and see to it she was learning her 'lessons' as it were; the maids and guards accepted it without question -it was not for them to question a man of God nor the Queen, after all- but in reality to await her return. He sat at her desk in her small study, looking as if he were working, for the first half and hour or so, just in case anyone came but afterwards he stood at the tall window, gazing out of the gardens and to London itself in the distance.

He thought of nothing in particular, merely enjoyed the peace and calm. It was a common enough trait among the clergy, the ability to calm one's thoughts and listen for God's words. The idle toying with his rosary though gave away his inner turmoil. He felt the pressure of what he and the Queen were doing more each day, and yet he had no misgivings, no thought to put an end to it unless she herself requested it.

Anthony knew it was a sin. He thought of it daily. He was sinning most grievously and as a man of God, it was on him far more than the Queen, he was sure. She had initiated it but he should have stopped her, corrected her...But he had not. He recalled some weak protestations...talk of vows and such, duty, honour, God. But his heart and head had been in agreement in that moment -and now- that sin or not, he was doing right by himself and the Queen in this affair.

He might be damned for it but he would burn with a smile on his face.

Still, he would be lying if he said it did not keep him awake sometimes. Not so much for himself but the Queen. The King killed easily without a thought, without a real reason. What on earth would he do to the Queen if they were discovered?! Death, yes, but what kind...what horrific nature of death would it be?

He knew there might be a chance for her if he said he had forced her. The Queen would, he also knew, deny it and try to save him in turn, but the King would be eager to 'save' her...yet...would that really be better?

So, while none of this, at that moment, was in his thoughts, he fiddled with his rosary and chewed his lip, nerves jangling as he waited for the Queen to return.