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

[Hannelorian]

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.

[DuchessLivilla]

The King beamed as Arabella was praised. He did not love her, but he loved the fact that others thought her all she was. It reflected on him, having such a fine and capable wife. Any praise of her, was really praise of him -as it should be- and he enjoyed it immensely. He genuinely had no idea that he was, for the most part, hated and feared. He assumed the shouts of God Save the King and all that were for him, himself, not respect for the rank and God who had placed him there, but him, Christian the man. He was not logical enough to realise that everyone loved a holiday -bread and circuses as it were to the Roman mob- and the same mob who cheered at you on your coronation would cheer just as wildly at your execution.

Both sisters had hit the nail on the head in that regard. The people loved, genuinely, the Queen, for her good works and her piety -of course they didn't know of the streak of cruelty but hell, that could be forgiven- and in turn, for her sake, loved the King. They had, once, loved him, before he had started to become fully unhinged...but now it was more fear than anything else. If the King, for whatever reason, tried to put Arabella aside, he'd lose everything.

Alex, watching him smiling, wondered when or even if he would realise that. Then, unknowingly echoing her hated nemesis Nikolai and his teasing hints to the Queen about taking power, she thought, "Mad, but no mad enough yet...we must try and push him a little more. If he was mad, fully and totally, it would be much easier...Parliament would have to see sense..."

The Princess had made no sign of noticing the looks nor the half-stunted curtsies and bows she was given, she merely smiled and nodded back as if she was delighted with her treatment. What did it matter to her what they thought? Her husband loved her, that was all she cared about. Her husband and children.

She moved to stand by Arthur, kissing his cheek in greeting as she did and taking his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, as if saying 'all is well.'

The King, in a fine mood it seemed, smiled at Alex and Arthur, "Ah, the young couple. Young love, eh, my dear?" She said to Bella, as if she was a woman two decades older than her sister instead of her 25 to Alex's 22. Granted the Queen had been a married woman far longer than the Princess had and in society that was all that mattered...but still. The King raised yet another glass and beamed, "To the happy couple. Their first Christmas together. Ah, such a sweet time. Then again," he chuckled, "I forget! It is mine and the Queen's first also. And in recognition of that...I have a gift for my dear bride," he smiled, brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her before clicking his fingers.

A footman vanished and appeared a moment later with a large flat box, clearly containing a jewellery set of some sorts. The size alone suggested it was nothing dainty!

"Now..." Christian chuckled, looking about at the crowd. "I designed this myself and it has been made in Paris for my dear wife; taking some months to make." He smirked then added, "You know the French, friends, they never rush matters of taste!"

Everyone tittered at his little joke, as if voice activated, everyone bar Alex and Arthur who merely smiled. Or forced a smile, whatever one wished to think. Alex looked at the size of the box and smiled, genuinely. Her sister had always loved showy jewellery and now as Queen she could wear the most lavish she wished and no one would bat an eye. Course, she knew that part of Bella now would hate the cost and wish to give it to charity instead but the King would not be gainsaid on that score!

The King stepped forward and took the lid of the box off in a great flourish. Everyone gasped when what was inside was revealed. The set, consisting of matching necklace, earrings, and two bracelets, was exquisite. Thousands, literally, of diamonds had gone into this, along with the most beautiful and richly coloured garnets anyone had ever seen. For once, it seemed, the King had listened; red garnets were the Queen's favourite and also, happily, stood for love and loyalty.

It consisted of a choker style necklace with large garnets, surrounded by diamonds, with tiny loops of diamonds connecting them. Strung from the choker in more loops of diamonds were larger garnets, again surrounded by diamonds, with smaller ones hanging at the sides. The bracelets and earrings matched perfectly.

Christian beamed proudly as everyone looked on. "Do you like it, my darling?" He kissed her cheek, "Merry Christmas."

[Hannelorian]

When the box was opened the Queen let out an audible gasp. The jewels were brilliant, sparkling and fantastic. No expense had been spared and it was plain to see that at least for the court, and the public, Christian was a generous and loving husband. He showered his wife with finery, and Arabella happily accepted it. Though even with Richard, their gifts were often hand made, simple, void of expense. The two were content with the simple things and did not need such expense to demonstrate their love. Remarkably Arabella was impressed by the simple fact that Christian had indeed remembered her favorite stone - the garnet.

"I... love it." Arabella was genuinely surprised, a hand raised to rest over her heart. Turning to Christian she smiled brightly and wrapped her arms around him. Her chin resting on his chest as she gazed up at him. "It's perfect." To those looking on, the truly ignorant of the court, the King and Queen looked truly in love. They appeared a match made in heaven and politically that was true. Arabella did wonders for the King, not that he would ever acknowledge it. She played her role brilliantly.

Arabella took a step back. "Everyone, please follow me." The Queen was excited, truly excited. "I too have a gift for my groom." Arabella was the perfect host, the perfect party planner, of course she had Christmas gifts for her husband. She had them for Arthur and Alexandra as well. The Queen made her way to the doors which were of course opened for her, she quickly made her way out as the whole of the present court followed behind. It was with great ease that she made her way to the front doors where at first there was nothing.

But in a few moments the sound of hooves would ring out, and four white horses would round the corner drawing behind them a carriage. It was ivory, complete with gold trimmings in a near on Rococo style. The insignia was that of the King himself, his seal and cypher upon the doors. It had taken months to construct and craft, every last detail was personalized for the King. The interior a decadent royal purple velvet. Every comfort that one could imagine had been thought of and placed within. Arabella spared no expense and no thought at ensuring her gift, including the horses was absolute perfection.

Granted the Queen had hated the expense the of it all. Most of her own personal allowance and royal funds had been set aside for her Chapel and of course the Foundling hospital, but when it came to gifts she had to appear the most generous. "It is not only a gift from me, but from our people." The Queen was never to be outdone, not even by her own husband. The appearance of her love and affection were known throughout the land. There could be no woman more pious nor dutiful than her, the truth was a well kept secret. "Happy Christmas my love." Arabella spoke her words with all the care and grace in the world.

Arthur for his part simply rolled his eyes. This was an extravagant display by his own standards. His gifts for his wife were far more personal and meaningful. He gifted her books he knew she would devour, new quills with which to pen her letters and her own works. He personally had written her card to express his love and admiration in his own words, personal and private as they were. Arthur had spent months searching for the right little things to gift Alex. The things he felt would truly express his love, and as it turns out there were no objects in the world that could do the woman and the feeling justice.

[DuchessLivilla]

Alexandra had much the same reaction as her husband to it all. She was pleased though that at least the King had given Bella the gems she liked but still, the set was so over the top and large when would the Queen be able to wear it? And no matter when, comfort was never going to happen. The weight of the necklace and earrings must be huge! If Arabella had it one, she would be able to do nothing but sit very still. Maybe that was the point. Perhaps it was a gift for the days when she had to sit by his side in parliament or else for a portrait?

Then again, likely the practicalities had not featured in the King's mind at all. Such mundane concerns did not apply to him as far as he was concerned. Alex leant in and said softly to Arthur as everyone was admiring the gems, "She shall need to add wires to the earrings to support them around her ears. If she does not, they shall tear."

This was a trick well established for the wealthiest of Queens and Princesses and popularised by the Romanovs of Russia who's Tsarinas and Grand Duchesses had so many jewels it was needed to support them!

As they moved out to the courtyard to see the Queen's gift to the King, Alex made sure to set her face to the appropriate expression and let nothing show. She did, however, inwardly roll her eyes at the "from the people" comment. No one but the King and his most loyal lapdogs were foolish or arrogant enough to really believe that nonsense.

Of course, Christian was delighted. It was, like the necklace, just his style. Over the top and very expensive. Even better that he did not have to pay for it. He embraced Bella and beamed, walking around it like a child with a new toy. "Ah, my love, it is wonderful! And such fine beasts," he patted the neck of one of the horses. "I know..." he smiled, "Let us go for a drive around Windsor great park it in. Arthur, you and the Princess must come too. A family ride out for Christmas."

Clearly no argument would be brooked here. Christian was opening the door and holding his hand out to Bella to climb in.

"You good people shall be fine without us for a time," he said, smiling. "Go and enjoy the food and wines and we shall be back shortly," the King dismissed the court who started to file back in.

Alexandra smiled, as if she could imagine nothing better and prayed the carriage was well sprung! Doctor Thomas had said to limit such things but refusal would only cause a scene. She stepped forward with Arthur, ready to alight. Part of her was interested to go and to see if the King dropped this little show of being in love and happy or if he kept it up. It would be like him to wait until it was just the four of them and then sit sulking. She hoped not. For all it was an act, she wanted to have a nice Christmas for Arthur, as best they could here, and he'd had precious few with his father in a good mood growing up.

[Hannelorian]

In truth, Arabella detested the gift she had presented to her husband. It was unnecessary and unwarranted, it cost far too much money and it was rather ugly, but she knew it was exactly in the style that Christian would love. His joy at the gift was genuine, not so much because Arabella had presented it to him, but because it was something he wanted and would enjoy, yet another symbol of his status and power, a reminder of his vast wealth. The horses however, Arabella did quite fancy. It reminded her of her youth. Riding horses, and the very rare occasion that their father allowed Arabella to ride normally as opposed to side saddle. These were happy memories.

Arabella took her husband's hand and stepped into the carriage, waiting for the others to follow in tow. Of course Christian entered behind his wife, leaving Arthur to assist Alexandra. Which of course he had done, extending his hand and helping her inside. Arabella for her part had wrapped her arms around one of Christian's her head was leaning against his shoulder and looking out the window of the carriage. In her mind she imagined it was Anthony she was leaning upon and holding. In recent days her mind had wandered to thoughts it should have. Well of course it wandered, they were now open with one another... but she longed for him physically.

Not simply did she want him by her side at every possible moment, she wanted him to be united with her, inside of her, the carnal act of sex. A feeling she had not had since Richard was not only alive, but rather healthy. Of course there was a part of her that acknowledged this was a sin, she was already with child she was not supposed to desire sex for anything other than reproductive purposes. But she did desire it. She vaguely remembered that Alex had expressed something similar to her once about Arthur. Surely a woman desiring her own husband was not a sin? So Alex must be safe. Herself on the other hand, not only was he another man... he was a priest at that.

Arthur was the last to climb in and to sit beside his wife, he looked at his father as the carriage began to move. Arthur would of course be the one to break any silence. "I've been meaning to thank you... both of you." Arthur began as he watched his father closely now. "I don't think we've ever had a small family Christmas, where we've sent everyone away and just had the family..." Arthur as a child was used to spending his Christmases with his mother, and with court, and then of course his mother stopped caring all together and refused to do a single thing for the holiday, she was far too depressed. "I know things have not been easy between all of us, but this means quite a great deal to me and to Alex as well I'm sure." Arthur knew his wife was just as weary and suspicious as he was. But still, an attempt at peace no matter how fleeting was worth it.

"Oh Arthur, you needn't thank us." Arabella smiled softly as she gazed across the carriage. "I too thought it would be good for us to just spend together. No prying eyes or loose lips. Just the four of us, and your darling children of course." Arabella made everything look so easy, so natural. "It was all your father's idea of course." She looked up at her husband and offered a smile. When something was well received, she was always sure to give him the credit, she took precious little for herself in this manner.

[DuchessLivilla]

Alexandra climbed in and took a seat opposite her sister, and Arthur sat beside her, facing his father. The footman closed the door and climbed up onto the carriage before, at the King's thumb on the velvet padded ceiling, the carriage trundled off around the courtyard and then out of the gates and down the long walk.

She, like her husband, was watching the King with interest. Naturally, it appeared she was just enjoying the ride but three occupants of the carriage knew full well this was anything but just a carriage ride out. Those three were tense and alert. The only one who was not, naturally, was the King, who was looking out of the window, looking at the decoration on the carriage and touching the fabrics, almost with childlike delight.

He was, clearly, very taken with the gaudy carriage. He had always liked the showiness of the rococo era. Ironic, given he often spoke about excesses and frivolities and so on in parliament and his councils. But these did not apply to him, of course. Those rules, like all the rest, applied to everyone else only!

Christian smiled across at his son. "I think you are right, lad. We have not. Well it's about time then. We shall have a fine time," he took Bella's hand and patted it, "Just us together, as a family." He chuckled, "I was saying to Arthur, my love, that I had quite forgotten a gift for the twins and was not sure what they would like...It occurs to me though," finally it had twigged in his brain the age of the infants, "that at their tender age...they do not have wants or likes!"

He chuckled then sighed, "I wish to do better. I know, when you were a child, I was absent and distant. Duty called and I had to attend it." This was a hollow apology. Yes, ruling took time and effort, but the King had plenty of leisure time and time he could have spent with his only child and his wife. He chose to be an absent father. He chose to spend his time hunting, drinking, womanising, partying and so on. He chose to rarely see Arthur as a small child, and later as a young teenager. It was only when Arthur was about fifteen or so that he appeared to notice him.

He had not even made the effort when Elizabeth had died. Arthur's tutor had told him the sad news and comforted the boy. His father had been nowhere in sight. He had not even attended her funeral; sighting an old and outdated custom that King's do not attend funerals...as it was, at one time -and now was again- treason to imagine the death of the King. This was, of course, nonsense at the time of Elizabeth's death...The King had been to his parents funeral without any complaint. But could not even bring himself to go to his wife's. He left his son to go alone, with his tutor and chaplain, and the court.

Still, the King was playing the part today and, as was his want, blaming anyone but himself for his own behaviour. He had wanted to be a good father but couldn't and it wasn't his fault! It was as well for the Princess that the King's attention was on Arthur and Bella and not her, and that he missed the tiny shake of the head and the eye-roll before she looked out of the window.

"I hope to make it up to you," he carried on, nodding to Arthur, "With this Christmas. This Christmas, I have planned your gifts myself!" He seemed so proud of this, as if he had done something amazing. It also told the rather pathetic truth that in any other year, this had been left to others and he'd not taken any interest. He looked to Bella, beaming proudly, clearly wanting her to confirm what a good father and man he was for this tiny and most basic of damned things!

Alexandra looked back and watched him. Utterly baffled by him. He was...in one way so easy to explain; he was a monster, he was a madman and he was toying with everyone around him like pieces on a board. On the other hand the man was a total mystery; sometimes like a child who looked to Bella like a mother, wanting to be told he was a good boy and praised, sometimes like a King, in full control of everything and ruthless with it, other times he was lost and confused and unsure.

It was terrifying. You never knew which you would get! And how on earth could a country be run on such lines?! England needed a stable figurehead! Today, or rather in this hour, he was being the good father and husband yet also the excitable child. At least it was better than the full monster, she supposed.

She took Arthur's hand and linked their fingers together, giving him a soft squeeze as she did.

Neither noticed the King looking at their hands and then faces before he chewed his lip and carried on talking as if nothing had caught his attention. "Darling," he turned to Bella, smiling, "Tell me, what was Christmas like for you as a child? I have no idea what a typical Christmas would be for the commons and I wish to get it right."

[Hannelorian]

Arabella listened as the King spoke. His words rang hollow and meaningless, but it was plain to see that he was putting in an effort. That was more than he had done in his entire life as unnerving as it now was. "If you'll forgive me Christian. I knew you would be far too busy with state matters to acquire gifts for the newborns... so I've taken the liberty of doing it on your behalf." Arabella knew she could anger her husband with this gesture, but never the less, she had already taken care of it much as she took care of everything. Arabella did so silently and with grace.

"Mostly practical things, lots of cloth for diapers, clothing in a variety of sizes and colors. We know how quickly they grow when they're small. And anything they grow out of can be saved for... the next child." Arabella smiled softly. "And... also silver spoons, one for each. Though I suppose those are more gifts for the two of you rather than the children." Arabella was abundantly practical. "Christian is of course right, they have no real wants or needs besides food, affection and being changed. So hopefully... these will prove useful to you as you begin your journey into parenthood."

Despite her past cruelties, Arabella had truly turned a corner and was becoming a thoughtful and compassionate person, one who leaned on love rather than on hate and distrust. She too could feel Christian's eyes upon her, begging her for validation and being the doting wife she would provide. "It is of course no understatement. Your father worked so very hard on finding the perfect gifts, something personally selected, something meaningful for the both of you. I had a tear in my eye watching him, so doting, and thoughtful." Arabella smiled, her head still resting on her husband's shoulder as she looked up at him. If one hadn't known better, they truly looked like the perfect couple, a couple in love. The King was handsome and appeared affectionate, the Queen was beautiful and seemed utterly devoted if not obsessed with the man beside her. Arabella was the perfect trophy of a wife.

"There isn't a doubt in my mind that between the presents and of course our time together, that we won't be on the right track." Arabella however, was caught wildly off guard when Christian asked her a personal question. He never asked personal questions, he never really wanted to know his wife. But also the notion that Arabella and Alexandra had the Christmases of the commons was laughable. Of course their position was far lower than it was today, but they were by no means common, their parents holding both land and titles. Lands and titles which now belonged to the Crown since the death of Richard who had inherited the properties and finery on behalf of his wife who of course could not inherit.

"Well... it's rather simple I think." Arabella began seemingly uncertain. "Usually at Christmas eve, Alex would come climb into my bed, and we'd wake up at the crack of dawn to rush down the stairs to see Mother and Father." She had relieved these memories dozens of times in the past few days alone. "But we weren't allowed to open our presents, not yet. We would have our breakfast as a family, time at Church of course... and there would be nativities and plays and tableaus. All sorts of fun games in usually matching dresses. It was all about the family. Mother would always make sure the tree was up and decorated, that the halls smelled of cookies or other delectable little treats." Arabella smiled and giggled a bit at the thought of it all. "It was the one day a year where I wasn't being... well raised into who I was. We were allowed to just be children, free in mind and spirit."

Arabella lost herself in the memory and found herself pulling closer to Christian, as though he was an object of comfort and security. "Father made sure we looked our best for our performances. New dresses and ribbons. He instilled in us a sense of moral right and wrong. Encouraged us to be proud of who we were and to represent our family well." Arabella's voice had softened. She missed her parents, she longed for her father especially. The one man who... while not intervening would remind her that she was strong enough to survive. He made sure of that.

"Alex says you were always the little trouble maker on Christmas, Arabella." Arthur chimed in with a rather mischievous look on his face.

"Oh Yes. Quite right." Arabella rolled her eyes and nodded her head to acknowledge the truth. "One year... oh Goodness Alex must have just been a baby, no more than a year old... and I was so jealous of the attention she was getting that I took all of the stockings from the hearth and threw them into the fire." Arabella laughed, but not because it was amusing, she laughed at herself so openly for her own stupidity and antics.

"Or... or... Alex you must remember Great Aunt Matilda? God she couldn't stand either of us. We were always reminded how her children had been so perfect. So finally I'd had enough and hid myself behind some curtains to jump out at her when she passed. The poor old thing spilled very hot tea all over herself and that very fancy carpet that Father was oh so proud of. The Persian one with those things that looked like cats or... rats... or something."

Another small bit of laughter from Arabella as she reclined, her free hand now resting firmly on her pregnant belly. "Oh I was a wicked child." Another shake of her head as she looked at Arthur and her sister.

For his part Arthur would make no move to mention his unhappy Christmases. In a way he envied his wife, hell he even envied her sister for the happy memories they had shared and could cling to. These little moments that now only existed between the two of them. Little hidden treasures buried within the recesses of their minds. Instead he held onto his wife as he could and simply allowed himself to be happy for the two of them in this moment. This was something that neither he nor his father could really know of. Arthur had only hoped and perhaps prayed that this would be his first happy Christmas in well over a decade.

[DuchessLivilla]

Christian smiled again. Delighted she had, as ever, seen to such matters. It was not an insult that she had done the job, rather it was her job in the court to attend to such things. Gifts and cards being part of the Queen's duty to her people, even within the family. The King, naturally, being far too busy to concern himself with who got what gift. Hell, it was rather amazing that this year he had actually taken a hand in his own wife's gift!

And even more amazing that he had chosen well on the stones.

Alexandra looked from her sister to the King and back as the Queen spoke of the King's tender efforts in choosing a gift for Arthur. It was an act, from both at this point, she knew, but still, the sentiment was almost laughable. Had he really gone to such an effort? And if he had, why? It was not love, that had been confirmed by himself to Bella...

She was turning it all over in her mind and came to two conclusions about this little game; One, the King had entirely lost his mind, or two, he was planning something and this was to lull them into a false sense of security -which would never happen!- while he plotted.

Or maybe third; he had some hint of guilt for his behaviour and wished to make it up to them.

She was leaning towards one or two rather than three on that list! If the man could not love his wife nor even his own son, then she was quite sure he could feel no guilt or concern for others either.

Still, Bella memories of their Christmases at home made her genuinely smile. She hoped for the same fun for her own family. Such happy and innocent times before they had become aware of their fates, or supposed fates. Not even their father, as arrogant and ambitious as any society father had dreamed that Queen and Princess of Wales were in line for his daughters. Dukes were as high as he hoped, she was sure!

Maybe, maybe, in his wildest dreams, he had thought perhaps Bella, with her perfect society looks might attract a minor German princeling but even then, they were ten a penny and most had no money or land beyond their title. A Duke with wealth and land was a far better match in terms of security. Princess title or not.

Alexandra laughed, "Oh yes, papa told that story of the stockings every year! For all he was angry at the time, I never got the impression he held a grudge. I think he found it rather amusing later on. You were, of course, the apple of his eye. He loved to jest about 'heavy nails' being put through the stockings to prevent another 'mishap'." She smiled and shook her head. "Though I think you did rather well out of it, dear sister; he always made sure you had more presents than myself, just in case there was to be a repeat."

There was no annoyance or grief in her voice, nor even jealousy at this. The girls had been raised in such a way that, for Alex, it was entirely natural and normal that Bella should have be given more than her. On the other hand, she had no intention of that being the case at her own home. Alexander, as the heir, would not be treated any differently than his sister. She wanted the siblings, and any to follow, to be friends and love one another, not resent special treatment.

After all, if little Sasha was to be King one day -God willing- he would have plenty of special treatment later on.

Alex made a face. "Oh my yes. Aunt Matilda. All children are gifts from God, of course, but hers were, in her estimation, delivered by the Lord himself and given unto her as a great boon from Himself. They were, as far as she were concerned, just an inch below actual Angels, and I mean that in the full sense of the word!"

The King listening to both sisters mulled all this over. He searched back in his mind for his own memories of childhood. His father had been rather absent, much as he had for Arthur, but they had often gone hunting or riding together. His sainted mother, Queen Eleanor had been his companion. She was, as far as he was concerned, a Saint in all the ways that mattered. The late Queen Dowager had spoiled her son rotten, even more so than was customary for a Prince and heir to the Throne.

Christian had grown up believing, due to her teachings, that he could do anything, he was above no one but the Lord, and perhaps his father -but even that didn't matter as one day he would be King himself!- and that any wrongdoing was someone else's fault, not his own. If one looked more kindly on the Queen's actions...Perhaps she had hoped to give him the confidence his own father lacked. If so, it had backfired spectacularly and created the monster who now felt he could do whatever he wished, and then blame another.

It was a shame that the Queen had not passed onto her son her love of good works and charity. Perhaps she felt that was not for a son to concern himself with, and having no daughters, it remained her charge alone.

Christian chuckled and patted Bella's hand, "You were never wicked, my love," he said softly, "You acted as God guided you; perhaps the stockings contained sinful gifts or books and you, even as a little girl, sensed this and consigned them to the righteous flames. As for your aunt, clearly she was tainted with pride and deserved that punishment. Does she yet live?"

Alex, catching on quickly that this question was pregnant with meaning; i.e if aunt Matilda did live, perhaps she needed to be 'corrected' from her prideful ways in some unspeakable horror by the King's iniquitous, quickly said, "No. Our aunt died before our dear parents; dropsy*, I believe." This was not true, Aunt Matilda was living still, though in France, which might be far enough away but Alex wished to take no chances. She hated the woman, that was true, but still, it would be beyond cruel to expose the foolish old woman to the King's attentions.

"Ah I see," the King nodded. "Then God sent her punishment. I am glad." He smiled again and looked out of the window.

Crisis it seemed, was averted.



* Edema; fluid build up, often in the legs

[Hannelorian]

Arabella knew what her job was. She had always known what her job was. And here, as opposed to being noble and standing up against her husband and his ridiculous statements, she would opt for self preservation, and preservation of the peace and would only hope that Arthur and Alex would do the same. She didn't want to do anything to jeopardize what serenity had briefly descended upon what was usually an utterly mad group.

"You are too kind, my love." What a sham, everyone knew the truth and yet Arabella and Christian acted the way they were supposed to. They acted like a normal and loving couple. They spoke with such kindness about one another, with such deference for one another. "Perhaps you are right and I simply do not give myself enough credit." Arabella did not give herself any credit, not truly, she was an immensely tortured soul who still blamed herself for most everything she had endured. "God guides my hand, and I must surrender to him in all things." Arabella looked up at Christian and nodded softly.

The Queen clocked the lie her sister had told about Aunt Matilda. She was grateful for that. The poor woman had suffered enough and need not be dragged back to England to face nothing but accusation and execution. "It would have been better if Christian could have meted out the punishment on God's behalf... but indeed in the end, God hath punished the wicked." Arabella let out a deep sigh as she too now gazed out of the windows of the carriage.

"You know, I was going through the storehouse last week. Paintings and such, I was hoping to change a few things out. I found the most magnificent portrait of your grandmother Arthur." Arabella turned her attention to him. "If the provenance is correct, it was painted shortly after her wedding to the late King. Perhaps it should accompany you home to Marlborough. Take a bit of family with you, old and new?"

Arthur turned to stare at Arabella and nodded. "If Father is willing to part with it, we would be glad to hang it with pride in our home." Arthur struggled with his own emotions. He did miss his grandmother. Eleanor had always been kind to him in his youth. But he couldn't help but feel bad for Arabella, watching her put on this little song and dance. But what other choice did she have? Or any of them.

"Do you miss her at all father. Grandmama?" Arthur wondered what his father felt most of the time. If he felt at all. Did he think about his memories? Did he ever consider his own past? It all seemed rather strange. But Arthur sat still and held onto his wife as he had been with something of a neutral smile across his face.

[DuchessLivilla]

Christian smiled at his wife. He was genuine in that, at least. As far as he was concerned, Bella could do nothing wrong on purpose. Or rather, that was his view today. He had, it seemed currently, forgotten his finding out about her plotting and his threat in the carriage when they saw Elizabeth...or what had once been Elizabeth. Today Bella could do no wrong and had to be perfect. It was someone else's fault if she had done wrong.

His mind really was a state.

"You do not, my love," he replied, patting her hand. "You deserve the world for all our hard work and piety. As do I," he added, with a faux humble smile.

Alex looked across and thought, "It's a wonder he can fit in this carriage with a head so large as that. Humble indeed!" Still, at Bella's words then Arthur's question she fixed her gaze once again on the King and watched with interest, eager to hear what he would say. She, like her husband, was interested to know if the man had any feelings at all, beyond cruelties and such. And beyond the love he suddenly felt for his granddaughter.

The King pursed his lips at the question and looked out of the window, a faint smile spreading across his lips as he did. "I miss her with all my heart, son," he said, his hand going to his left middle finger where he wore a richly decorated gold ring, with a ruby set in pearl. He opened this ruby to show a tiny yet detailed portrait of his mother, and bearing the letters ER, for Eleanor Regina, or Eleanor the Queen. "She is always with me," he replied, smiling. "Truly, until I married my dear wife," he nodded to Bella, "I had never known a finer woman. A saint, in all but name. That reminds me...I must speak to the Pope on that matter."

He chuckled and closed the ring then rested his hand on his knee. "I wish she was still here, every day. Even more so now, I think. She would have been most taken with your little ones. She had always a great love of children. I do believe we would have been hard pressed to stop her from taking them as her own!" He laughed, as if this was some amusing tale, when in reality Alexandra felt a chill go through her.

That would have been just like Christian. She had never met the Queen Dowager and did not know much about her personality, beyond what was portrayed to the public, but she could see it plainly, had the lady been alive...Christian whispering, the pair conspiring. Finding some way to remove her children from her to be raised by his mother, as if Alexandra was unfit and shouldn't be trusted with such a task.

"Do you miss her, Arthur?" The King asked, not noticing the way Alex had shivered at his words. "She was devoted to you, lad. Ah, how I miss her. A man's mother can never be replaced," he said, clearly forgetting that his son had lost his mother in far more painful circumstances than his own and at a far more tender an age. And that he had married again and now expected said son to call a woman he quite disliked that title.

It clearly was no irony to him that this, as well as the fact he was half plotting, even now, to remove Alexandra and his son from their children in the future, sat so ill with what he was saying. It did not occur to him. Those things were quite separate and unconnected in his mind.

His mother had been a saint and could never be replaced. This was about him. No one else. Arthur's mother had been, to his mind, a failure and why should that pain his son now? He had a better one now, in Bella.