Before the servants had a chance to return to the room the Queen grabbed her sister gently by the arm, the gravity of what they had just discussed, no matter how briefly or even lightly was just that... rather grave, dire. "Alexandra." Arabella began. "If... I ever were... to take matters into my own hands... should it ever be so bad... I'll need Arthur's help." To kill a King, no matter what the circumstances were was a crime, a crime above all other crimes. To even speak the words out loud could have been a crime, a conspiracy.

Arabella had dreamed of it, she could see it in her head, she would imagine taking the King's life on her darkest days. But that had been all, just dreams, fantasies. Arabella had craved her vengeance, her own justice. She desired her freedom. But what was more is that she desired power. Arabella had for the briefest of moments imagined herself seizing power from her own husband, taking control of the country and the world herself. What was so wrong with that? Catherine the Great had done it, hadn't she? Killed her husband and stole his power for her own? And wasn't she one of the greatest rulers of the Empire of Russia?

"England will be safe for our children. No matter what. With or without Christian. Our children will not need to know the fear that we know." Arabella's tone was deathly serious now. Their children deserved a better future, a brighter tomorrow than their own. "As for what he said... in the halls while drunk..." Arabella smirked for a moment, her anger was showing. "Just add it to the list of unforgivable things he's done. One more crime to charge him with when all is said and done."

Arabella moved toward the door and knocked on it gently, both doors swung open with perfect synchronization. The two women made their way back to the party, not a single hair of theirs was astray, they were absolutely perfect. Arabella clasped her hands together in a clap of sorts as she re-entered the room, the biggest and brightest smile on her face. It was like the red sea parted when Arabella entered the room, everyone moving out of her way to clear a path to the King. For her they all smiled and dropped into deep curtsies. Arabella could greet them, exchange pleasantries and the like. When Alexandra passed their curtsies grew more shallow, the smiles turned into scowls or looks of confusion.

Arthur turned away from his father. He had conclude the conversation with something along the lines of whatever he chose the children were sure to love it. Even if not now, they would later on. And that seemed to suffice for now. Arthur had suggested that it was quite likely that Arabella had already taken care of it, to which he was right. Arabella had taken care of it quietly. Silver spoons, one for each child, their initials now that they were known would be engraved upon them. There were matching rattles, but of course the most practical gift were a large number of cloth diapers of fabric that was ostensibly chosen to prevent diaper rash. As well as a host of outfits in a variety of sizes to ensure the children would have things to wear as they aged, and the old could be donated.

Arabella moved with grace and poise as she floated much like a butterfly across the room to take hold of her husband's arm. "Arthur." Arabella said softly with a smile.

"Mother." Arthur said with a short nod. Though even he had to smile. Arthur was feeling good, happy even. He had just seen his children brought into the world. It was Christmas, he was with his darling wife, and for the moment his father was being more than tolerable. It was something he had never imagined was possible. And now it was real, it was all happening. "You really have outdone yourself. I don't think I've ever seen this place so well decorated, nor the courtiers so genuinely thrilled to be spending time here." Arthur was earnest in his words.