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

[Hannelorian]

The under butler stood there in confused silence for a moment. One could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he worked out which of these two options was the least terrible in nature, and what the implications truly were. Was he being threatened by the Princess? His face flushed red with color, angered by the woman who had just bested him. If the Princess said anything to the Queen, he would undoubtedly would be reprimanded, or worse. After all this little no one helped deliver the Prince.

"Very well, your Highness." The man relented. He could not win. "However, I must insist that the staff be spared serving her.. Mary. After all there is much to be done." The man bowed deeply and backed his way slowly out of the room, the doors being sealed by the Princess' guard behind him. When he was far enough away he looked back toward the room and simply let the word "whore" escape his lips as he went on about his business.

---

Arabella shifted in her position, holding the baby delicately as she moved to lean against Anthony. It was clear that she was still entirely exhausted from the whole thing, but was at least, happier than words could express. "He is perfection." Arabella's voice was soft and flowing with an uncharacteristic sweetness. "Do you really think he takes after me?" She asked, her face tilting to the side slightly as she continued to examine Henry's delicate features.

"Christian is expected to recover." She answered the question. "There may be permanent injury, but we won't know for some time." Permanent injury which may serve to make her own life more difficult, both in terms of the King's anger and her own rather flagrant infidelity. "The Prince Regent has been so kind as to allow the bells to toll and the birth of the Prince to be announced." Arabella's sarcasm apparent. "The council did agree that news of Christian's attempted should be suppressed for the time being. One right decision I suppose. Let the country focus on the Christmas Prince during the holiday. Especially while they still ride the joy of my sister's children."

Arabella did thoroughly enjoy the fact that her son was born on Christmas day. More happy with the fact that despite being early he was healthy, but it was a rather nice little of fun. "We'll have to be more careful now. There is a chance that that Christian may no longer be able... fulfill his marital commitment." Something which was on one hand a great relief. "Even if he can, there is still a chance he might never take me to his bed again now that I've given him a son." It was odd how easily these words so openly flowed from her mouth.

"I can't fall pregnant if I'm not supposed to be by legitimate means." Arabella looked at Anthony still smiling. "I trust that won't be a problem for us? If we can't... you know." She could hardly bring herself to say the words 'have sex.' God forbid. "I love you Anthony." She let the words hang there in the air for a moment before leaning in to kiss his cheek. "And when this is all over, we can be together, like a proper family."

Arabella longed for a life after all of this. Something peaceful where she just raise her children. Children plural. It was in that moment she did realize one thing. "I'd do it again for you, you know." She held onto Henry but her eyes focused entirely on Anthony. "Have another child or children for you. With you." Of course when the time was right and they were free. Even though Arabella hated being pregnant, she hated giving birth even more, she would do it again for Anthony. She loved him enough she would do anything for him, and while he certainly would love her children, he should have sons or daughters of his own.

[DuchessLivilla]

That word would cost the man dearly. Unfortunetly for him, he had said it just loud enough and within sight of two highly trained soliders who's eyes and ears were attuned. Both men's heads turned to watch him as he had left and both saw his lips form the word, saw the look of venom he cast back towards the door.

As he departed, the two men shared a look, understanding plain between them. Their Lady had been insulted and it would not stand. Who she was aside, if anymore excuse was needed, she was a woman and they, like their commander, agreed wholeheartedly with the ideas of chivalry and never to insult a woman, certainly not in public, out of respect for the fairer sex in general, as well as out of respect for Mary, The Blessed Mother of Jesus.

No words were spoken between them but both knew that at some point, perhaps even that night, said man would vanish from the castle and never be heard from again.

--

That was all in the future though and for now, Alexandra rolled her eyes when the door closed then turned to Mary, shaking her head, "I am sorry you had to hear such nonsense, Mary. You know yourself, servants are often more bigotted than their masters in such matters." She rose to her feet and smiled, "Still, if the staff cannot possibly bring themselves to serve one of their own...I shall do it myself happily."

She moved to the sideboard where the foot was laid out under silver domes or lace cloths to protect it from the air or any chance of flies.

Mary blushed and hastily rose too, "Ma'am, really I...It is true what he says, it's not..." She trailed off and laughed softly, realising she was proving the point her mistress had made. "I cannot persuade you, can I, Your Highness?"

Alex smirked and glanced over her shoulder, "No. You cannot. We have already shocked the man, why deny ourselves the pleasant morning? It will not change anything," she turned back and started to make up a plate with the rich foods Mary was not used to. Not that the Wales' household deprived their servants and they were very well fed, but such things as that appeared on the Royal table were not given to servants, even in their household.

Mrs Pattmore would have had heart failure! Liberal as she was! There were limits...

The two young women spent a most pleasant hour or so chatting and enjoying one another's company. No servant came in -likely meant to be a sign of disaporval and to leave them wihout food...because of course, the Princess couldn't serve herself!- nor made any attempt to bother them and so a fine time was had by them both.

--

Anthony bit his lip at her sarcasm and asked, rather tentitvely, "Are you...are you unhappy the Prince was made Regent? Forgive my ignorance, I know little of such matters but it strikes me that it does not sit well with you?"

However that was swiftly forgotton when she spoke about 'relatiobns'. He blushed and looked away, a shy smile on his lips as he, at once, fiddled with his rosary, a nervous habit he could not seem to shake. "I...Of course," he glanced at her shyly then away, his cheeks flushed. "The concept is so new to me I...I am sure I shall do fine without it." He blushed again, realising this might have sounded a little dismissive. "Not that I...not that I didn't enjoy it! I...Forgive me," he mumbled, smiling.

The idea of a future with the Queen made him pause and he chewed his lip. It was a new concept to him. He had not given it any thought, not even once. The Queen was the Queen, that was that. The idea that one day she might be...well anything but had never crossed his mind, nevermind the idea that she might wish to be with him openly.

He would have to give up his priestly role though. Married priests would never be allowed. It went against the church and God's teachings! He could not have both. Still, another matter concerned him more and he looked back at Arabella. "Majesty," he said softly, his hand coming up to touch hers, still as shy as the first time, despite all they had done; it was as clear as day he regarded her as something precious and so far above him that it was a gift just to do that.

"Majesty," Anthony said again, "I know it is not what Ladies are taught but...Your body is your own and I do not wish for you, even in this possible future, to do anything you do not like. Pregnancy seems a great toll on your body and mind, and the births, I know from growing up where I did, often end in the lady's death. I became a priest, I always knew I would become one...Children and marriage were never meant for me...And...and if marriage and a life with you does come to pass...I..."

He stopped, sighing, "Forgive me, I am not as elegant a speaker as I could be. I merely mean...I never expected to have children, I never gave it a thought, nor am I a great man who has need of heirs nor daughters to marry off for alliances." He smiled down at little Henry, "If the Prince here is your last baby, then I shall celebrate happily with you and look to that future you want. I shall place no demands on you in that regard. I just...want you to be happy, however that looks."

[Hannelorian]

The ways in which Anthony reminded Arabella of Richard at times was almost stunning. He respected her autonomy, he didn't force anything upon her. In the years that Arabella failed to produce a child, Richard never even considered casting her out as he did his previous wives. He simply loved her. Now Anthony was here before her, espousing his happiness if this was her final child. He wouldn't force pregnancy upon her, knowing how deeply uncomfortable and unhappy the actual carrying of the child made her, despite her adoration of the outcome.

"God will decide whether or not we are to be gifted with additional children." Arabella smiled softly. "There is a life after this, and you deserve to be happy Anthony. You too have large decisions before you. If you even want to be with me, it means leaving the clergy. I cannot force that, I would not force that upon you."

Looking down at Henry, Arabella cooed at him lovingly and at last set him down in the cradle. Turning her full attention to Anthony, she moved closer to him, finally wrapping her arms around him and kissing his lips gently. "As for the Prince Regent." Arabella rolled her eyes and finally allowed herself to fall back onto the bed. "Yes. It does anger me. He does not share Christian's outlook. He does not care for the Kingdom as it is today, he is an unwise choice." The Queen sighed deeply. "Understanding that I too share most of his views, that is private. Outwardly I am the wise choice. But I am a mere woman. Women are unfit to wear the crown."

It was a sad reality, entirely unpleasant. "It is of no matter though, things cannot be changed now, only in the future. In the mean time we must simply pray for my husband." Arabella understood that she would need to suffer more, in order to change the world as she was destined to.

[DuchessLivilla]

"Yes...I know," he nodded, chewing his lip, his gaze dropping to his rosary. Could he do it? The clergy was all he had ever known, and while he had never had any ambitions to rise within the church -it was a miracle enough that the King had chosen him for this exalted position!- he did feel a calling.

And yet, he felt a strong calling to be with this woman, in whatever way she needed. Surely God would not lead him astray in that manner? God was, after all, love, and he certainly loved Arabella.

He did not have to chose now, he reasoned, but…He chuckled softly. “Majesty, I know a method that might help in this…I think it is done with a coin but as I have none,” he reached into his pick and pulled out a small, disc of silver, a Saint Jerome medal, Patron Saint of Orphans. It was smoothed from age but still showed the image on one side. The back was embossed with the maker’s mark.

“I was given this by the cook at the foundling hospital,” he smoothed his thumb over the worn-down image of the saint, “Just before I left to join the order. I am not sure why she chose me to give it to but I have kept it all these years, in my pocket. As you can see, it is much worn now. I find it a comfort to run my finger over it when I am nervous.”

Anthony blushed shyly and nodded to it. “I…This shall seem flippant, at first, but it…I have found it works well to tell you what you really want and perhaps what God wishes for you too.” He took a breath then tossed the medal into the air, it flipped several times, and he caught it, covering it as one did when one tossed a coin.

The priest took another breath and gazed down at his hand. “Alright…shall we say heads for my leaving and tails for my staying.” It might have slipped flippant, and Anthony would not have blamed the Queen for being appalled. But the real motivation became clear when he made no move to look and smiled to himself.

“Ah, there we go…As clear as day,” he pocketed the medal, again without looking and instead turned his gaze to the Queen with a shy smile. “I knew, the second it landed, that I wished for it to be one side far more than the other. And thus my choice is made.”

Father Lennox leant forward shyly and kissed the Queen’s cheek, “I am yours, Majesty. Whenever…if…when it is all over, I shall be yours and give up my calling.”

He bit his lip when talk turned to the Prince, “I confess, I do not understand much of the politics of it all but…the Prince is a good man, I think. I do not think he would prejudice you?” It was a sign of his still intact innocence to court life that he thought this fact would matter in anyway. There was far more at stake for it to boil down to who was a good person and who was not. "As for being a woman...It is rather foolish I think, as you yourself told me that the Prince shares all with his wife and takes her advice, but...well, I suppose it counts that a man is in charge on paper, even if he has female infulences...Oh, it is all very complicated. I wish I could be of more pratical help, Your Majesty."