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

[Hannelorian]

As the gentlemen began to carry on, Arabella politely excused herself to sit on the sofa beside her sister. A gentle and reassuring hand moved to rest upon Alexandra's shoulder, squeezing ever so gently. The Queen leaned in to whisper into her ear as she watched the flames. "You'll give yourself away if you carry on like this." It was rather unusual for Alexandra not to maintain her characteristic composure. Arabella seemed to recall that in nearly all circumstances Alexandra was unflappable. She always maintained her calm but here she was staring off into the flames and clutching at the fabric of the sofa rather harshly.

Arabella sighed deeply and nodding her head rose once more to make her way back toward the table. In a rare but fairly appropriate moment she had approached Father Lennox and helped him settle the rest of the cards. Her eyes occasionally gazing upward at Christian and Arthur. Most of the attention now on Bridget who had emerged and offered further services. "You won't have to pay any of it." Arabella whispered softly, attempting to reassure Anthony. "Arthur has it in hand, and my personal budget has more than enough room to match the donation." Arabella was intent on the charitable aspect of it. If they had sinned, it may as well go to a noble cause.

There were subtle exchanged glances, though nothing that seemed out of place to the casual observer. Merely the Queen assisting a Priest in closing up shop after a chaste game of cards. "I'm sorry he dragged you into all of this." Arabella nodded vaguely toward the room itself, and everything it brought with it. The idea of the psychic or whatever she was must have made the man deeply uncomfortable as it had once made her so. Though oddly it did not terribly challenge her personal faith in a higher power. Perhaps in some way it had reaffirmed it.

Arthur taking a good look at Bridget now could see there was a wisdom in her face. It was not just her years no, there was something about how she handled herself. It seemed foreign, she appeared to carry an air of absolute confidence that struck him at his core. But no, his wife had seemed shaken, and his father was growing impatient. Though a part of him truly wished to go and experience this for himself, it seemed an unwise decision given the current state of affairs. He had other duties which needed to come first. Alexandra would always come before anything. "I thank you kindly madam." Arthur bowed his head. "Though as His Majesty has suggested, the hour grows late, and you must also wish to retire to your home for the evening and the holiday. I shall keep you no longer." Another this time smaller nod as he turned to move to sit beside his wife on the sofa, the spot which Arabella had abandoned not long ago.

"Shall we begin then?" Arthur asked, largely of Christian. For his part Arthur had his arm wrapped his wife, pulling her closer into him. His smile was warm and his touch was soft. Even if he could not inquire further, he hoped that simply his presence would be enough to help calm her, they hadn't much longer to go before they would all be free for the evening. They simply had to endure.

[DuchessLivilla]

Alex did not, could not, in that moment, respond to her sister, all she could think was her baby boy was ill...or would be ill...or weak...or...or...She had hardly even noticed Bella sitting down nor her words but they must have had some effect or perhaps she knew herself, because by the time Arthur joined her, she had mastered herself once more and smiled at him sweetly, as if all was well and fine.

She was, perhaps, not as jolly as she had been, but while Arabella and Arthur might notice, the King certainly wouldn't so that was all that mattered. Her sister was right in that aspect; she could give nothing away to him. He had to think all was well. If he suspected she had been told something unpleasant...He'd damn well try and out what, and if he knew little Alec was destined to be sickly, what might he do?

The threat that Lord Darnley, doomed husband of Mary Queen of Scots, was said to have flung at her when she no longer came to his bed, sprung to her mind, "Children die, Mary...easily..."

How easy would it be, if Alec was known to be sickly, for the King to...to...harm him and under the guise of his already weak health, claim it was natural?

No. No one must know. Not even Bella. Not even Alice and Thomas. No one but she and Arthur.

Bridget, waiting as the King, who never carried coin himself but who had several wall safes scattered about with various amounts -for gambling use of course- to dig out some money for her, watched the Princess and decided to break her own rules. She had, once Alex had left, done another reading, asking another question, and she decided that the young woman needed to know the answer.

Not to the previous question; she would respect that. The mother could not bear to know her son was to die young...but she had to know this...

The old lady came over and said, loud enough for all to hear, "Ah, child, yer must have dropped this from yer dress," and under the guise of returning a button or some such, she leant in and whispered, "A son of yers will be King, child." Before she pulled back and returned to the King, who had noticed nothing; his head had been in his safe digging out notes.

Money, as ever, meant little to him. "Ah...Coin is better I imagine?" He said, smiling at the crone before handing her several crowns; a huge sum. Clearly pleasing the King had its merits!

"My thanks again, dear lady," he smiled warmly and rang for a servant to see her out.

As she passed, she nodded to Arabella and departed, leaving both women forever changed with her words. Now that was power if ever there was.

Anthony meanwhile had blushed at the Queen's words and said softly, "Forgive me, Majesty...I did not wish to seem mercenary. Charity is always good and I wish to help in all I can but...I own nothing and..." he laughed softly, "I have never held a coin but the penny we were given each Christmas! I have certainly never spent a coin!"

This would have been most amusing to a commoner but to a lady, and a lady of Bella's rank who had been wrapped in wealth since birth, it was not so strange. Ladies rarely touched coins either; perhaps in the offering plate, but no lady went to a shop and exchanged money! A bill was sent to the house and paid by the master or else by the steward for the grander houses. Even notes were not to be touched often by ladies! It was not their sphere at all.

Christian, bringing his wine, came over and sat, ringing the bell once more to call his footman in to them: someone had to fetch and bring the gifts to them after all...

"Yes, yes, let us begin when Taylor arrives. Come darling," he called to Bella, glancing at the table where she and Anthony stood. "Father Lennox, you may escape if you wish," he added, winking, "I know this is not your idea of amusement."

Anthony smiled shyly and looked at the Queen, as if asking for permission to leave or...or he would stay...if...if she wanted him to...

For Alex, the effect of Bridget's parting words had been instant and had had the intended effect. She was, somewhat, soothed. Not by the idea of a son becoming King, that would hardly take away the sting of the first prediction! But by the fact that, in essence it meant...whatever they must all endure...there was hope at the end. At some point Bella would kill the King and...it would be over. They would all be free.

[Hannelorian]

Arabella clocked the interaction between Bridget and Alexandra almost instantly. It struck her as unusual at first, and then she wondered if there was something left unsaid. Something that warranted the old woman herself to go to the Princess and share one last pearl of wisdom. The Queen nodded ever so faintly in response to Bridget as she departed. The Queen was determined that this would not be the last time Bridget made an appearance, though no, she would not simply be dragged out for some event. Bridget was not a toy or some theatrical amusement she was a real person, one who warranted admiration and commanded respect.

Anthony's simplicity was a thing of beauty, he needed not for money or material things. He simply existed and appreciated, he worshipped God, he followed his orders. Save for a few key ones. He was a genuine person, there was no falsehood about him, no mysteries or enigmas or twisted little games. Anthony was simply Anthony, that was part of the reason she had grown to love him, to truly love him.

"Yes father. You should get some rest. I'll wish to offer confession first thing in the morning." Arabella offered Anthony the reprieve he needed. Arabella would not force him to sit quietly by and watch Christian put on his charade of love for her, and even more so she would not force him to endure Arabella's charade in return. Her fawning over the King at every opportunity. That seemed far too cruel for someone as good as him. Especially when she had dragged him into this. She had forced the issue with him. She put him in this position and she would prevent his suffering where she could. "The family should be together." Arabella commented. It created distance between them. It told the King that Arabella was consistent, she wanted this to be an intimate holiday and she was continuing to see it through. Of course she wanted him to stay... just being near him, even if she couldn't reach out and touch him was enough to soothe her. She would have to wait until the morning.

The Queen quietly made her way across the room and wrapped her arm in Christian's. The dutiful and loving wife at his side with a wide grin on her face. She was warm and affectionate, leaning against her husband, her head resting on his shoulder. "But it is my idea of amusement, my love." Arabella spoke to Christian and as the King moved to the sofa which had been designed for two. Arabella sat down, grateful in honesty to no longer be standing. Taylor entered the room a few moments later, immediately dropping into a deep bow before the family.

"Your Majesties." He spoke in a deep and respectful tone, still bowed, his body adjust slightly in the direction of the Wales' "Your Royal Highnesses." He greeted similarly before allowing himself to rise and properly enter the room. Taylor was a young man, no older than 26 with impeccably coiffed black hair. The livery seemed like it was made for him. Taylor did not desire a life of service, but it was what he had and he was good at it. He had no real love of the King, much like the other servants within the royal household. Arabella's arrival had brought welcome relief, she was a kind and capable mistress. She often deflected the King's anger and protected the staff at every opportunity. He was one cog in the vast machine that was the household, and he of all people was less than pleased to have to spend the eve of Christmas waiting on the King.

"Taylor, good evening." Arabella bid him welcome with the nod of her head. "Thank you for assisting tonight." The Queen would have gladly helped with the distribution of gifts from assorted tables, though she preferred not to move too much for the time being. "Might I trouble you for a glass of wine?" The Queen asked as she reclined rather uncomfortably.

Arthur watched the scene unfold with his wife, watching as Bridget made her return and seemed to whisper something into her ear. The guise of a lost button or some such was a nice attempt, and thankfully one Christian would believe without a thought, literally because he would not think of it at all. Alexandra seemed to relax, but he still worried and he wanted nothing more than this all to be done with so he could speak to his wife. So he could understand what she had been told and what had pained her. Perhaps it was a mistake not to speak to the woman after all. Perhaps she would have told him what was going on, something to let him in to what seemed to upset his beloved so greatly. "Come darling, let us sit and enjoy." Arthur said with a soft smile as he took his wife by the arm and moved with her to sit on the sofa across from the King and Queen.

[DuchessLivilla]

Anthony, relieved beyond belief to escape, bowed to both the King and Queen and then departed, shaking his head as soon as he was in the corridor. The opulence was rather unnerving and the presence of...of a witch -if that was what she was- was even more concerning! He cast about as he walked, as if expecting -or fearing- the woman might suddenly appear before him and curse him.

He made his way to his simple little room and fell to pray, something familiar and something as habit as breathing for him. It calmed him greatly. He prayed for the Queen, of course, but also found himself praying for the Prince and Princess too. He did not pray for the King, not because of any malice, which was beyond him, but because he did not feel as if he had a right to pray for the sovereign. That was for better folk than him.

-

Naturally, two of those left behind would have given much to have been allowed to escape but that was impossible. The Wales got into place, like actors on the stage, and sat, smiling and nodding along as the King had Taylor bring them all refreshments -wine, candied fruits and nuts which had been prepared- before he grinned.

"Right lad," he said, nodding to the young man, "It is only fair the Queen goes first, bring us..." he craned his neck to see the table for the Queen and pondered a moment, "That one there, to the left with the silver paper and pink bow. I think," he winked, "I recall what that one was! And if not, we shall all have a nice surprise."

Taylor did as he was bid, returning swiftly with the medium sized, rather flat box. It was beautifully wrapped and the ribbon was delicately coloured pink silk; expensive for just decoration! And not even decoration for a gown! But no one in the room batted an eye at that, all were far too use to such things. Silk ribbons for their hair had been a standard when the sisters were little, and a much sought after treat when their father went to town.

While that was going on, Alex glanced over at the tables and inwardly sighed. Arthur might have been too optimistic...They were heavily laden with gifts for them all. And knowing the King, unless he became bored, they'd be here as long as he wished to draw it out. Still, part of her wished to remain here as long as possible; how on earth would she tell him what she now knew? Would he even believe it?

"As soon as we can escape home...Oh God, perhaps we can beg off New Year...No...I doubt it. Family harmony and that nonsense. He will never allow it and if we press, he will demand to know why. Doctor Thomas comes here...Maybe he can examine the little one and...and at least give us some hint. I am sure he can be trusted to keep silent. He hates the man as much as we all do. He would not betray us...Please God."

She blinked and refocussed to find her sister had unwrapped the gift and was opening a velvet box to reveal something large and gold within, lying flat on the plush interior.

The King, beside the Queen, smiled proudly, "Ah, yes...I remember. I had them strike a medal for you, darling, for you first Christmas as Queen." The heavy gold disc, a quarter of an inch thick was heavily detailed and enamelled in beautiful colour, showing the Queen in her ceremonial robes, with two cherubs flying over head, holding a canopy of estate over her. In one hand she held a rose, for love, and the other the bible. Around the top of the medal were the words Aut Aimul Stabunt Aut Simul Cadent*

He leant in and kissed her cheek, smiling happily, "Aut Aimul Stabunt Aut Simul Cadent," he repeated. "We are together in this life, my dear heart. What concerns you, concerns me, and so on."

Alex frowned. The men, of course, understood Latin -they had been taught it- but it was not something taught to women. She, however, had picked up some at Suffolk and had learnt more when she married; Arthur being perfectly happy to help her and to have her learn. "How romantic," she thought, still frowning a little. It was, on first glance, a strange choice for a medal's motto...But she supposed it was perfectly chosen for Christian. He wanted to make sure Bella knew -as if she could doubt it- that she and himself were fused...One being.

The King, paying no mind to anyone but his wife beamed happily. He was most proud of himself. Again, much like a little boy who had given his mother a gift; he craved approval. It was amusing really, a King desperate for the approval of a woman. "Your turn, my love, who shall have the next gift?" He asked.






*'they will either stand together or fall together' - if one ends, so does the other, and vice versa

[Hannelorian]

The Queen hesitated for a moment as she opened the gift. When it came to Christian, anything was possible, if not plausible. She herself could hardly imagine new things to gift him, he already had everything! She had given him a new carriage, horses, everything that could come to mind. But never the less, she did not let it get the best of her instead she proceeded with opening the delicate wrapping. It truly had been beautiful, even if Christian had no real hand in the manner in which things were wrapped, it was still something to behold. The attention to detail was painstaking and someone on the staff had taken a great deal of time and care in putting this whole thing together, as they had with all of the gifts.

The Queen gasped as she saw the medal in all of it's glory. A hand raising to cover her mouth, the corners of her eyes welling with tears, her cheeks flushed red with color. "It's absolutely beautiful." She picked up the delicate creation, her fingertips running over it, feeling every little bit of imposto and customization. The image of her in her regalia was divine, a near perfect likeness of her. It reflected Arabella's beauty, her serenity, and her truly regal standing. "Truly... it's magnificent." It was a beautiful creation. A gift that had no real functional purpose, it was gaudy, perhaps too extravagant, but it did touch the Queen, it was compelling.

"Thank you, Christian." Arabella turned to her husband, and wrapping herself around him, she kissed his lips gently, pressing herself into him. "It's incredibly thoughtful." It was a moment in her life that Arabella took great pride in. Her coronation in her ceremonial robes. It was something that made her happy. No matter how fleeting that happiness would be. The message of the engraving was clear as day, and Arabella could only pray that he meant it. But then she knew he would, but she would be the one to end him after all.

Arabella wiped the tears away and smiled brightly. "I do hope my darling sister and Arthur will forgive me, but I do wish to present you with a gift." Christian came first, he would always have to come first. He needed the attention and the validation. Arabella would provide him with all of her attention. "Taylor, the long box please." The box was long and narrow. "And the small square one in the tartan." Taylor nodded his head to his Queen and quickly gathered the boxes to place them before the King. The long box was narrow, wrapped in a golden paper with silver and black ribbon of silk, as well as a bow of similar gilded gold. The King's name written on the paper in Arabella's own hand. The paper was even perfumed with her own signature scent.

Once opened, Christian would discover the box itself was made of patent leather, and within was a new hunting rifle. Top of the line, state of the art. The rifle itself was painted in a crisp white with enameled detail. Christian's cypher had been engraved on side, with his family crest on the other. The metal of the gun was covered in brilliant gold, truly gleaming. Arabella had asked the master of the hunt, and the King's armorer for exact details on Christian's favorite and preferred rifles, what he appreciated about one but didn't like in another. And from all of that information she had commissioned this new piece, perfect in every way, custom designed for Christian to perfect the design itself. Every thing he loved, with none of the things he found annoying or defective.

"And that next one... is something personal." Arabella smiled. The smaller box was perfectly square and not terribly or overly large. It was wrapped in a rich red tartan paper with a crisp silver bow. Once more Christian's name was written in Arabella's own hand. Arabella had, also wrapped his presents herself. Not that Christian would care, or even think to ask or consider, but the Queen took it seriously. All of her gifts for everyone had been wrapped by hand, including the gifts she had selected for her guard and her attending maids.

Within, Christian would find a leather bound book, and a perfectly folded letter. "To share every part of my life with you, I had this dug up. It's my first diary. Even my most immature thoughts I wish to share." Arabella smiled warmly, knowing Christian would never read it, but it was the simple act that mattered more than anything. "And that letter... well, that is a letter I sent to young girl. A Christmas letter, and you kept it." Someone kept it, Christian likely didn't remember. "A gesture to show my best wishes for you have not changed. My love and devotion for you remain, and have only gotten stronger since I was younger. There is no doubt in my mind that God intended me for you all this time, and now I have you, and you have me."

The way Arabella looked at Christian was unmistakable. It was a look of love and affection, a look of need and physical attraction. A look that screamed that she had nothing but love for him. That was the power of Arabella, she could project whatever she wanted, whatever she wished. The Queen was brilliant, despite her immense and largely hidden sadness. "It's silly I know, but I wanted to show just how much you mean to me."

[DuchessLivilla]

Alex, still reeling from what she had been told, watched this little scene unfold with little charitable feeling. She sometimes wondered, when Bella was in full beloved wife act, if she fooled herself; she did it so well. Did she fool Christian? Did he believe it? Or did he just demand it anyway, whether he knew or not if she hated him.

"It would probably please him more to know she didn't love him and yet did all this. It would appeal to his arrogance..."

That word again.

Bridget had called her arrogant, before she destroyed her happiness. Alex gazed off into the fire, paying not mind to the spectacle going on before them of the happy couple. "She saw right through me. Funny. Until she said it, I did not think I was but...but now I know she was right. She looked, briefly, at the King and her sister before away again, I know I can do a better job than that fool. Yet I also know, if he was a good man, a good King, I would be content to be with Arthur, motherhood...My ambition comes from his failure. Yet it is no less sharp for that...aut Caesar aut nihil*..."

She refocussed her attention on her sister as the King opened the present that bore an old diary of Bella's. Alexandra inwardly rolled her eyes. A sentimental gift for a man lacking in all sentiment. He would never look the way of it, she was sure. If he did, he'd read all of Bella's petty cruelties and childhood boasts and be delighted with her, more than he already was.

Alexandra leant in and rested her head on her husband's shoulder, her hand in his. The picture of calm, easy domestic bliss so beloved by the sentimental painters and novel writers. It was then she remembered what Arabella had warned her of earlier.

Suffolk.

She glanced over at the present tables, trying to work out which was the official gift of this precious -to Bella- place. A scroll most likely, in a cylinder...Ah, there, on Arthur's table, with the gold ribbon. That must be it. God help them. What reaction did Christian want from them, with this gift? Happiness? Shock? Did he want them to accept or refuse?

You never really knew. They must go with what Bella suggested; look happy and be grateful.

-

While all this was swirling around Alexandra's mind, the King was in his element. His wife was in fine form, playing her part well and giving him all the attention he could wish for. When he unwrapped the rifle, he genuinely gasped and held it with a reverent smile, running his fingers and eyes all over the gun, taking in the detailing and craftsmanship.

"My word, dearest...You have been busy! It is wonderous! I do believe it must be the finest weapon I have ever seen! Eh, Arthur? I shall outshoot you tomorrow at the Christmas day hunt, that's for sure!" he grinned proudly. "I shall bag a fine stag for my dear wife's supper."

He returned his gaze to the gun and, clearly, reluctantly, set it down once more for the next gift, his gaze slipping to it once or twice as he unwrapped the diary. He looked down at it, listening to Bella's explanation. He nodded, smiling, but it was clear she had been right; he had no memory of said letter. Likely he had never read it in the first place. He received so many well-wishing letters at Christmas.

Still, he put on a decent show, "Ah! Of course, of course...Yes, I remember..." he lied, tapping the letter. "I shall have it framed now it has been found again, and this," he opened the first page of the diary and read the neat, yet childish front page announcing it to be the diary of 'Lady Arabella', "I shall read in the evenings. It shall be a great comfort to know my dear wife as she was before she became the great lady she is now."

He set them aside and picked the gun back up, this time smiling genuinely. "I must try this out...I cannot wait," he announced, grinning. "Taylor, run and fetch my case so I might load her and take a shot." He rose and walked across to the window, throwing it wide so that an icy wind blew in and a few flakes of snow fluttered into the carpet.

Etiquette, it seemed, could go hang. The King would test his gun by firing out of the window...Damn who he woke up or disturbed. He stood by his desk, waiting, admiring his gun as if everyone else had vanished. Still, he seemed to realise and looked up, grinning, "Do carry on, dearest. Give the Princess something, I shall not be long, I just wish to have one or two shots."

This time the Princess really rolled her eyes. "Thank God the children are on the other side and shall hear nothing."


* 'Either Caesar or Nothing'

[Hannelorian]

Arabella knew she had done her job and that she had done it well. Truly the amount of work that went into crafting that weapon was no easy feat, yet as always she had pulled it off. The Queen knew he would care little for the sentimental gifts, but still, it was part of the performance, a demonstration of her undying and unconditional love for a monster. It didn't bother her that he barely looked at them, or that he even lied about remembering her letter. However, Arabella did chuckle at the thought that their father would be extraordinarily pleased that the rather rote performance of sending greetings the Monarch for Christmas did, in fact, amount to something of substance. It could be framed and promptly forgotten once more.

"If you are going to shoot, might I suggest taking the head off the gargoyle." Arabella didn't mind that Christian eschewed all propriety to play with his new toy, no if anything, it relieved her. "It's teetering and only a matter of time before a gust snaps it and it fall on someone." It would be nice of Christian did something useful at least. Though she did not count on it in the slightest. "Well then, I suppose I shall continue. Just a moment." The Queen rose from her seat, with Taylor having disappeared to fetch what was request, it left her to tend to her own presents. Stepping toward the table designated for Alexandra, her eyes scanned until she found a rather large rectangular box, though it wasn't very tall. Taking it into her hands, the Queen carried until she encountered Alexandra and gently placed the box in her lap.

"I figured something practical might appeal." The box itself was wrapped in the same gold paper that had been used for the King's gift. Arabella didn't see a need to use all kinds of different papers if it simply meant wasting rolls of the expensive item. She had limited herself to two kinds. Though this box had silk ribbons of pink and blue, clearly indicating that this would pertain to the children. Arabella watched with a kind smile as Alexandra set to work opening it.

Inside were two garments for the children. Each of them gowns, one of gilded golden fabric, encrusted with diamond and rich silver threads the formed the pattern of assorted flowers. Each one representing a different part of the realm. The other was a matching gown, though in a silken silver fabric with gold threads detailing the same delicate and ornate flowers. Both designs featured crowns, leaving no doubt about the wearers identity. "For their baptisms of course. I had originally intended to give you options, but when it turned out there two darling babes, it seemed to just work itself out. They are actually inspired by the one that you wore, Arthur when you were just a wee one."

Arabella had an eye for detail and design. She had an eye for memory and sentimentality. She wanted her gifts to always be personal and a reflection not only of herself but of those she was giving them for. "As soon as their done, you could have the fabric reused for whatever you'd like, if you use them at all." Back in her sitting position, her hands were rested in her lap, delicately intertwined.

Arthur, looking over as his wife opened the present lit up in a smile when he saw the gowns be revealed. When it came to something for his children, how could he be angry? "They are beautiful, mother." His words were sincere, he couldn't help but sustain the wide smile. The thought of his children and their future was of paramount importance to him. He looked forward it to, to seeing them grow, no matter what came their way. They were of him and his beloved. There could be nothing better. "From the paintings, I can see what you mean." Obviously Arthur was far too young to remember the occasion, but he had taken note of it in the many images of the day that had been created. "It's very, very thoughtful."

[DuchessLivilla]

Christian looked rather aghast when his wife told him of the gargoyle. "And it has not been dealt with yet?" He shook his head, actually annoyed in that moment, "What if it had fallen on our carriage? On you, my dear? Or what if it had fallen when the Princess arrive in her labours?! No. No this will not do at all. Remind me tomorrow, I shall have the master of works here at once. It is his department after all!"

He glanced out the window and shook his head again, muttering about 'slipping standards'. He certainly shoot at the gargoyle now! He'd have it broken into pieces and rain them into the garden. He craned his head out to make sure no one was about then, for good measure, shouted into the dark, "Anyone out there, get yourself in doors for the next fifteen minutes! That's an order from your King!"

There was no one but the guards out there anyway, but they all did as they were bid and retreated to the guard house to count down the minutes.

Within, Alexandra just leant against her husband, taking little notice of what was going on. Arthur, dear, sweet Arthur, stroked her hair and said nothing, letting her sit in silence. He knew her so well. Pressing her before she was ready -even if they were free to speak- would get him no where. She was so engrossed in watching the flames and thinking, that she -again- jumped when Bella suddenly appeared before her, holding a box and speaking.

For half a second she just stared at the box, her face blank before she blinked and sat up, "Forgive me...I was...elsewhere," she said softly, safe in the knowledge the King was still across the room and quite wrapped up in admiring his gun, making poses to shoot, and glancing at the door, eager for Taylor's return.

She took the box onto her lap and opened it, her breath catching a little when she saw the gowns, side by side, in all their splendour. Alex reached out, gently fingering the fabric as if afraid to ruin it. She swallowed, "They are perfect...I...I quite forgot they would have Royal baptisms," she admitted, managing a small laugh. "I had images of the white gowns, as we had...But no," she nodded, "Of course, they must have these. They are perfect."

She passed the box to Arthur and rose, embracing Bella with genuine warmth and delight. She hung on a few moments too long after, revealing her inner turmoil before she pulled back and smiled, "We shall use them for all our children, if we are blessed with more. Gold for boys, silver for girls, and I shall be sure and tell them when they are older, that the gowns came from their aunt, the Queen herself."

The Princess stepped back and smiled again, glancing at her husband, "I must see that portrait again. It will be amusing to see if the babies as you did. Do you remember the portrait of your baptism, sister? In mother's drawing room. Mother loved the portrait but both of us found it far too funny to look at often. Bella was almost entirely hidden by great folds of lace and satin, as well as ribbons! All you could see was this tiny face, looking rather shocked by it all."

"If I keep speaking, I need not think. I must not think. I must not think."

The door opened and Taylor hurried in, going at once to the King with his case of shot and gun care kit.

Christian grinned and opened it, setting about loading his new toy.

Alex glanced at him then the table, "Might I chose one for you, sister, in return?" She smiled, not waiting for permission before she crossed to the table for the Queen and selected one that she had handed over a day or so before. It was wrapped in delicate blue paper, printed with silver snowflakes, with a white satin ribbon.

She brought it over and handed it to her, smiling, "I hope you like it, it was most tricky to have made but it turned out so much better than I had hoped."

Inside the wrapped box, her sister would find a oval portrait frame of gold, showing the two sisters as they once were as little girls, from the waist up, Alex with her head on her elder sister's shoulder, both staring out of the frame. They each wore festive gowns of green satin, with white sashes, and sported matching green bows in their pretty curls; white blonde for Bella, and black for Alex. A festive sprig of holly with berries was pinned to their chests and they smiled as if they had been interrupted opening presents.

The painter, a known master, had made the portrait -as if the girls had posed for it- by looking at older portraits of the children, housed both at Marlborough and in the royal collection, and then invented the scene. It would not have looked out of place in their home when they had been so young, with it's sentimental image and soft background. It was the style most parents had of their children, either as groups or alone.

On the back of frame, in Alexandra's own hand, were the words, "To A Beloved Sister At Christmas, 1866."

[Hannelorian]

It was when Alexandra hung on for just a bit longer than was expected that Arabella had her confirmation. It was something about the children. But Arabella could not guess what exactly, she simply returned the embrace and held her for those few extra moments that she needed before resuming her seat. "I'm glad you approve. I really wanted it to be special." Arabella was smiling, but her eyes were filled with concern.

The Queen took the gift in her hand and very carefully unwrapped it. Arabella was always gentle with such things and avoided tearing the paper unnecessarily. The ribbons were carefully folded and set aside. When she finally opened it, Arabella gasped when she first caught it. An absolutely stunning portrait of the two of them as young girls. "Oh Alex." Arabella remarked, as she withdrew it slowly from the box.

"This is absolutely marvelous." Her fingertips traced the frame, her eyes glued to the image. It was a perfect likeness of them. "This must have taken so much work... I can hardly believe it. We had those exact dresses!" Arabella could hardly believe she had never sat for this portrait, that it was entirely a creation. It was a spectacular thing to behold. "Truly, this is a wonder of a gift. Mother would have loved this." Arabella wiped the falling tears from her eyes, careful to let none fall to the portrait in her hands. The Queen turned the portrait over, running her finger along Alexandra's message, knowing of course that was her penmanship. Beautiful and elegant.

"I adore it." Arabella concluded. "Christian darling, will you excuse the Princess and I for but a moment. I rather need assistance in... a feminine manner." The truth was, as a pregnant woman, never more frequently in her life did Arabella have to use the bathroom, and naturally the clothing of the day was most ill equipped to handle such things. It required so much maneuvering. But that wasn't really what was going on.

"Arthur you don't mind do you?" Arabella asked, but it really wasn't a question and he knew that. Arthur simply nodded his head and sat back in the seat, watching his father hang out of the windows and prepare to shoot a Gargoyle that apparently Arabella detested. Or something of that manner.

The Queen stood slowly and moved to take Alexandra's hand, pulling her rather gently out of the room all together and across the hall into a smaller drawing room. "I don't expect you to tell me, because I know as much that it's about the children... you don't want to give me ammunition." Arabella sighed and threw her arms around her sister. Holding her tightly. "Are you alright? You look a fright, I must admit. Thankfully Christian is too absorbed in himself to notice... You just have to hold out a little longer." Arabella was worried about her sister, and she knew there was very little she could in the way of aide.