"Regrettably if you were to ask me, which I know you are not..." The Queen began as she sat across the table from Bridget. The two bantering as if they had known each other for years, known each other on a personal level. "The commons like you are more likely to lose a child before birth, or shortly after." The thought deeply saddened Arabella, to lose a child was an absolute and unmitigated tragedy for most. "Every doctor in the country would turn up at the gates of Windsor if requested. A luxury that your lot does not have." The access to health care was something Arabella thought a lot about, even if she questioned the moral character of some of the King's doctors, they were still there.
Arabella shook her head. "Give me children, else I die." The Queen repeated the phrase she so often quoted as a girl, and was so often quoted to her by men or other women at times. "When really they mean, give me a son, else I die. And while Christian likely does not remember this... he very much informed me that if it was not a son, I should hope to die in the act of childbirth." She felt the familiar sensation of her nails digging into her palm, though she would stop herself before she had the opportunity to draw any blood. "I will do everything in my power to make sure that my son does not end up like his father. That... I can promise you." There was a strong determination in Arabella's voice as she spoke. She meant every word.
"If you'd like, I can send a good and comfortable chair to you. Not these I'm afraid. But there are better ones somewhere in here I imagine. It would be my pleasure to ensure one gets to you." When Arabella was comfortable, she could be so good. She could be kind and doting, she could be friendly, she could be so many of the things the world did not think her. That even Arabella did not think of herself as. As Bridget told Arabella just a bit of her story, she listened with intent, nodding periodically, her face filled with concern. Men were cruel. They could be so horrid. Bridget at least understood, understood in a way that Alexandra would never, could never. Though that was a blessing. She didn't want Alexandra to have to know this kind of pain and suffering.
"I'm glad you took care of yourself." The Queen commented so lightly, so swiftly and gingerly on the topic of murder. A smile had crept across her face as she reassured the woman, who frankly, did not need such. "Tell me Bridget, do you think me a confident woman?" Arabella asked quietly as she moved to rest her elbows upon the table, leaning forward. "I don't think myself worth saving. You know this." It was the brutally honest answer, as she had expressed several times to a few chosen people. "I've lived my life as a cruel and wretched woman. The things I've done, I will be judged for." There was almost a melodic tone to her voice, a kind of knowingness that came with honesty, it was a statement spoken without fear. "Christian is my punishment for my sins. I alone must endure." The wicked child had gotten what was a long time coming.
"But from this place... this throne I have the opportunity to do as much good for the world around me as I can. And perhaps that is worth the pain, the agony, the suffering." Once more she was wiping tears from her cheeks. "You know I've dreamt about it... about killing him. So many nights. I've seen it in my head clear as day. Vengeance is mine, I shall repay." Another sigh, another pause in conversation. "But I won't do it because I feel I deserve this. Because I fear that maybe regicide is a sin too far. Or maybe because I haven't reached my breaking point yet. Close. I've been so close, but not yet.
The Queen held onto Bridget's hands tightly, not too tightly, but firmly enough. "There is a very real chance, that I will be the one to end his life. And if and when that time comes. I will have no regrets." Arabella laid her soul bare before Bridget. And here and now she still did not regret it.
--
Arthur could hardly believe what was happening before him. His father had chosen his wife to be his bridge partner. What world were they living in? Who had replaced the King with this? Then of course, it was only when Alex began to laugh that Arthur did so as well, if anything to shield her from some of the awkwardness of it all. "I can assure you that Alex is a very fast learner, no matter what she says." There was a flash of a smile and small nod in her direction as they paired off.
"They say that laughter is the best medicine. I tend to agree with this." Arthur once more commenting, though he did genuinely believe in the power of levity. It was something so sincere, so genuine, so good for the soul it felt. A human experience, a joyful one to simply lose one's self in laughter.
Naturally Arthur knew it was his place to lose, and he would make sure that he did. Though he wondered if Father Lennox was a poor player because he too knew this, and let the king win. Or if genuinely he was no good at cards. Either way, the Prince did not supposed it mattered terribly, their fate had already been decided. "If the winnings are to go to the poor, then how about double or nothing?" Arthur had a fiendish smirk, even if he knew it would be his own pockets that would empty. "Whatever the winnings are, the loser shall double them, for charity's sake of course." Arthur didn't need an excuse to be more charitable. "Perhaps some of the money will toward mother's efforts at transforming the foundling hospital?"
Arthur cast a quick look at Father Lennox and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. The two men would survive yet!
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