Charles Rayleigh's Story

The forests in the outskirts of Briar were such a beautiful sight to see at the end of autumn before the chill winter winds swept through the South, making it just a little less comfortable outside. In reality, the South never got that cold in the middle of winter. The multicolored leaves littered the floor of the forest in different tones and shades of warm colors. The few leaves that still clung to their branches swayed with each breeze, threatening to fall. It was so peaceful this time of year, with barely a disturbance for miles around in the large forest.

Suddenly, a rumble began to sound through the woods, causing a few animals to look up from where they stood and collected an assortment of nuts or berries or whatever. The sound grew more intense and louder as it moved closer and closer. In a flash, a fox pushed her body through some bushes and emerged on the other side, racing along the leaves with a wild look in her eye. Through the brush, a large white horse leapt, pounding the ground beneath her hooves as her rider, a tall, lean man urged her on. "This way, girl! This way!" he cried, standing up slightly in the stirrups of the horse as she raced after the lithe shape of the ginger colored fox. "You have it in you, girl! Run girl, run!" Charles kicked his heel against her flank sharply and, having startled the white mare, she bolted further forward. By then, the fox was just at his mount's right hooves, veering slowly further to the right in hopes of escaping. She was too late, however.

In a swift, fluid motion, Charles had pulled his crossbow out and held it aimed, pressing his thighs into the flanks of his white mare to steady himself as he shot a bolt straight through the beast's chest. It fell, already head as it hit the forest floor. With a cry of excitement, Charles pulled out suddenly on Serenity's reins to stop the mare in mid gallop. Before she'd completely stopped, he was dismounted and quickly knelt by the fox.

"God, thank you for blessing this land with such an abundance of life," he said softly, removing the bolt from the fox before he lifted it in his hands. "Bless this land with many more years of fertility and luck." He crossed himself quickly and then stood, the fox in his gloved hands as he heard more hoof beats behind him. As he looked up, a group of four men on horses joined him, all stopping their horses to look at him. They were all part of his court in some way.

"Another kill for you, Your Highness?" asked one of the men in the lead of the group. Charles smirked, the grin spreading slowly across his countenance.

"Yes, indeed!" he cried, tying the fox by the hind paws on to the front of his saddle where a few other small animals hung. "This has been quite the successful hunt for me, gentlemen." Climbing again into the saddle of his horse again, he snatched her reins up. "I do believe these are some of the best hunting grounds in Seabel!" Beside him, the men readied their horses and, in sync, the lot of them started off toward Whinfell Palace.

---

---

If the forest looked beautiful, the palace was absolutely gorgeous. The true beauty of the gardens though, which were one of the most attractive parts of the palace, wouldn't be at their full potential until the next spring. The group rode their steeds into the courtyard where a group of scrawny young stable hands raced up to intercept the horses as the men dismounted. Another lad came to take the kill Charles has amassed; the fox, two rabbits, a quail, and a squirrel. On another day, he would have gone for larger kill, such as deer, but he had wanted the thrill of a chase this time and he knew his snow white mare wouldn't keep up with the larger prey as she did with the tiny animals.

For a while, the men of his court followed Charles into the palace and through the hallways. Hearing a stern, loud voice though, they suddenly hurried off.

"Charles Rayleigh! You have an entire kingdom on your shoulders and I swear to the Lord himself that if you leave me in the middle of a conversation again, I shall send my spirit upon you when I am buried six feet under!" cried the voice, as the rotund shape of Harold Pierrepont, Charles' advisor, came down the hallway, waddling slightly.

"Oh, Lord..." muttered Charles, eyes rolling slightly. He crossed his arms over his chest loosely, watching the man walk closer. "Correct me if I am wrong, but you are leaving out the part in which I invited you to join me on my hunt, Pierrepont. Besides, I heard you out, let you finish your statement, and then I left." His attitude would have certainly gotten him cuffed as a boy, but he knew they old man didn't have it in him to strike the King of Seabel. Instead, the advisor stopped before him, anger displayed on his countenance as he looked up at the much taller Rayleigh.

"And I told you I have not been able to hunt for a decade now," he countered. "And you know fully well you have responsibilities to attend to, Charles!" Another thing about the man that always seemed to amuse Charles was the fact that he addressed his sovereign by his first name, whereas his court had taken to titles such as "my lord" and "your highness". Charles looked down at the angry man who, in an odd way, resembled a sort of angered leprechaun.

"Very well, dear Pierrepont," he said, his voice almost cracking with rich, full laughter. "I'll attend to my duties...but, first, where is my wife? I feel as if I have not seen her in ages despite having just spoken with her this morning." His words seemed to get through the angry little man who simply narrowed his eyes and gestured toward the garden doors. Elation showed in the stormy gray eyes of Charles as he pulled his burgundy cloak close and hurried out of the doors, into the gardens.

Squinting against the sunlight, he gazed down at the clearing to look for his wife. When he couldn't see her, he frowned slightly and started further into the garden. Passing a figure in the garden, he stopped to look at them. At the sight of his mother-in-law, he smiled and walked toward her. "Duchess," he addressed her, nodding at her respectfully. She seemed exhausted and, for a moment, Charles' brow furrowed in worry. Yet, he knew she was a strong woman and he didn't really feel the need to question her.

Returning to the mission at hand, Charles strode by the fountain and leaned down to run a hand through the chill water as it moved slowly through the fountain in a never ending loop. A sudden squeal of joy caused Charles to look up quickly, so quickly he felt a light pain in his neck. They were the cries of his Lizzie, his eldest. They were cries he'd heard each and every time the young girl had talked either him or her mother into a game.

A smile spread again across his lips, exposing his white teeth as he moved toward the sound."Hattie, my love?" he called, slowly walked toward the sounds of giggling. As he moved closer and closer to the source of the cries, he came to the realization that the girls were off playing yet another game of hide and seek. Charles smirked. "Oh dear, I must have lost my daughters!" he cried dramatically. "I do believe this means I will never be able to play another game with them again! I must give away their toys and their dresses and their pets!" He sat on a bench in the garden, biding his time as he waited for the inevitable reaction.

"Father!" came the first cry, that of the bolder Elizabeth, as she burst through the hedges and raced toward him. The king hardly had time to spread his arms before she flung herself at him and latched on to his neck. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, Charles stood with a broad, elated smile on his lips. "My beautiful little Lizzie!" he exclaimed, walking around with her in one arm, balanced on his waist with her arms still around his neck. "Where is your sister, little one?"

He hardly had time to finish what he had said before another young girl came racing toward him, squealing "Father! Father!" at him. Charles stooped down again and gathered his youngest in his arms, too, balancing her on the other side as she, too, wrapped her arms around his neck.

"One day, you two shall be too much for me to carry around like this!" he remarked, walking down the path they had come from, set on looking for his wife. "How have you been this morning, both of you? Have you been good for your mother?"

"Well, Father!" they chirped in almost unison as they moved through the garden. Cecily said the next part. "We spent time with grandmother and then we played hide-and-seek!" He nodded, still smiling despite how fatigued his lean arms were growing from the combination of hunting that morning and carrying the two girls.

"Good, good," he replied, stopping as his wife finally came into view. She looked so beautiful in the lighting of the early morning. The sunlight bounced off of her blonde locks and he knew that when she turned to him, her bluish-gray eyes, so similar to his own, would reflect the light, too. He cleared his throat and grinned cheekily. "It appears that we have found you, Hattie." His voice held a teasing tone as he spoke to her. Slowly, Charles let the girls down on to the pathway as he moved toward Harriet. Arms extended, he brought her into a tight embrace and hugged her warmly as he kissed her jawbone gingerly. "How are you, my love...?" he cooed, moving one hand from her waist to brush it against her cheek slowly, his calloused fingers a bit rough to the touch but still gentle against her soft flesh.

---

Many sights seldom rivalled that of the gardens at Whinnfel Palace, correction, many sights seldom rivalled Whinnfel Palace itself, for it was a magnificent structure. Turrets of red brick towered into the skies, it’s intimidating façade dominating the surrounding landscape, it had been the epitome of Davenport, later Lancaster, strength, power and wealth and now it was the perfect example of the Rayleigh’s good fortunes. The palace was made for King’s and Queen’s, generations of them. Harriet had fallen in love with the place when she first visited Briar and King Harold Lancaster’s court as a young girl, she had marvelled at the enormity of the place then and as a small girl the corridors had seemed endless. Now the place did not seem as endless but was still daunting all the same. Never in her wildest dreams did that young child think that Whinnfel would one day be her home, let alone that she would one day become Queen; in retrospect it seemed incomprehensible just how naïve and blind she had been as a child to think that all was well in the Kingdom of Seabel.

Things were greatly different now, now Charles Rayleigh sat upon the throne and she was his Queen, their children Princesses. Even in the beginning of their marriage Harriet still did not fathom that the end to Lancaster rule was nigh, if anything Francis Rayleigh, Charles’ father had discouraged the thoughts of a civil war not wanting to inflict such times on the country he loved so much and Charles had easily respected his father’s wishes. Then Francis had been executed and generations of hostility had erupted within her husband, thus beginning ‘The Dynastic Wars.’ Admittedly, even at the beginning Harriet had her doubts about how successful Charles would be, he had begged and pleaded with him not to go to war out of fear of losing him, she did not want her children growing up without their father but still he went. No matter what her feelings she would stand by her husband, it was her duty but she still had her reservations, she couldn’t deny that the idea of being Queen was appealing but was the throne really worth losing her husband over? To Harriet the answer was simple, no. To Charles, well Harriet got the distinct impression that he would only accept two outcomes for this war, either he won or he died and that scared Harriet beyond belief.

Harriet had been politically savvy enough to realise that ‘The battle of Mountains Pass’ would be the defining point of the war. She had waited days, refusing food or sleep, she had been left with strict instructions that if the worst should come, she should take the girls and set sail to the Emerald Isles for sanctuary. Fortunately it had not come to that, the day her husband returned victorious would be the day she remembers until her last breath, he had come back bloodied, battered and exhausted but he had proudly held up the crown to her, he had done it, the Lancaster’s had been defeated, his father avenged.

Loss had been plenty during the war and much to Harriet’s concern Prince James had not been captured or killed along with his father but had rather fled to the Northern Lands, with her very own sister and brother. The thought angered her, at first Harriet had been under the impression that Eleanor had been taken against her will and that Jonathan had ridden out after her, although she soon came to realise that this was not the case, Eleanor had gone freely and Harriet had never felt such betrayal in her entire life.

The love she felt for her siblings were strong, however the hatred was still rife, the betrayal still so fresh that every time she thought about them her blood boiled. Harriet knew her feelings were selfish, Eleanor had done what she had out of love and a part of her wanted to applaud her bravery, but perhaps the realisation that she had lost her sister and brother to the enemy kept the wound fresh, or maybe it was seeing the effect it had on her family but either way Harriet could not…would not, bring herself to forgive her siblings. She could not imagine the effect the situation had on her mother, Harriet herself would surely be utterly devastated if her two daughters grew to find themselves on opposite sides, the agony her mother must be feeling was incomprehensible, but never-the-less Annabelle managed to hide it well.

It had been a while since Harriet had last thought of Jonathan and Eleanor, she put her train of thoughts down to her pregnancy and how she would not have the opportunity to celebrate the news with her entire family, like she had done so with Lizzie and Cecily and that made her a little sombre. “Boo” Lizzie shouted as she jumped out from behind the rose bush, followed closely by Cecily as she mimicked her elder sister’s actions.

Harriet laid a hand across her heart feigning surprise, the truth was had spotted the girls earlier, their small giggles and the rustling of leaves had given away their hiding positions quite early on but Harriet didn’t have the heart to spoil their fun and so she had pretended to search for them. “My goodness!” Harriet exclaimed, clasping her hands together in front of her “you two are getting far too good at this game!” The girls giggled in unison, happy in the knowledge that they were able to scare their mother.

"Hattie, my love?" Charles’ voice carried across the gardens bringing a playful smile to Harriet’s face. “Come my darlings; let us hide from your father.” Taking hold of her daughter’s hands as they hurried behind the rose bush just as Charles came into view. The girls giggled with excitement only to be hushed lightly by their mother. "Oh dear, I must have lost my daughters!" Charles cried out in a dramatic tone, causing Harriet to stifle her own laughter, looking down at her golden haired children she could see that they were both itching to go to their father, "I do believe this means I will never be able to play another game with them again! I must give away their toys and their dresses and their pets!" With that Harriet rolled her eyes knowing that she had lost her daughters side in their game.

Elizabeth was the first to run to her father; Harriet smiled at their union, feeling a little tugging on the skirts of her dress, she looked down to see Cecily looking up at her through wide, pleading eyes. With a light chuckled, she bent down and placed a kiss upon her youngest golden head “go on dear” Harriet smiled, giving Cecily the confirmation she needed to run to her father.

As Harriet observed the scene from the break in the branches of the rose bush, she couldn’t help but smile, Charles was wonderful with their daughter’s his love for them exuberated from every inch of his body. It was then that Harriet, like her daughter’s found herself wanting to be embraced by Charles and so stepped from behind the bush and into view, although she remained silent as she approached her happy smile spoke a thousand words. "It appears that we have found you, Hattie." Charles teased as he slowly set the girls down.

“Hmm…so it would seem” The Queen smirked matching his teasing manner. Long strides brought them together, his arms welcoming her into a warm and loving embrace, his lips speckling her jawbone with light kisses; so much was Harriet’s euphoria that she swore she had died and gone to heaven, there was nowhere else she would rather be in that moment, save for here with her beloved husband and children. "How are you, my love...?" Charles asked, his hand coming to rest lightly upon her cheek.

“Very well my dear. In fact I have some news to share with you” Harriet gushed almost unable to keep her composure, smiling she tore her gaze away from Charles’, looking towards her hands almost bashfully. Looking behind her husband, Harriet momentarily focused on her children. “Girls…” she called out lightly, catching Lizzie and Cecily’s attention. “Yes mama?” Little Cecily called out. “Why don’t you go and pick that flower you spotted for your father?”

The girls nodded eagerly, quickly taking off back to where they had seen the rose, leaving the King and Queen alone for a brief while. Taking Charles’ hand within her own, she placed a loving yet quick kiss upon the slightly calloused skin before guiding it towards the small swell of her stomach, “I am with child, my love” Harriet spoke gently, her eyes running up to meet his own.

"Please may I go outside, Geoffrey?"

"No, madam, I'm afraid you may not. You are not allowed outside the castle walls. It was your eldest brother's and late father's orders," the short man replied, his expression and voice bland. His wiry mustache moved and bumped on his face as he spoke, almost seeming to be fake, and he moved his nose in much a way that was similar to a rodent's. His beady eyes peered out behind his spectacles, boring into the papers in his hands.

"I understand that, Geoffrey, but I wouldn't leave the walls, I promise!"

"A no is a no, Princess. I cannot go against the King's orders," the small man snapped out, his voice slightly irritated and tired.

Margaret could feel her lower lip beginning to tremble. The familiar sting of tears in her eyes burned and an ache began in her throat.

"You do not have to be so rude and inconsiderate of my feelings when you answer me, Geoffrey. I wish that my father had never hired you in the first place!" she exclaimed, sniffing after she did so. She whirled away as the pudgy man sputtered, his face turning slightly red with a mixture of annoyance, anger, and embarrassment.

"M-M-Miss! How dare you speak to me in such a manner! You may be the princess, but I am of the most regal of status's when serving the royal family. You haven't the right-"

"Oh, can it, baldy. Stop giving her a hard time. All she wanted to do was sit outside and read a book. Where's the harm in that?"

Maggie turned, her eyes teary and tinged pink with crying, and after rubbing at the tears, she could recognize the young man that stood not too far away from her.

Tall and lean at the young age of eighteen, Jerald was the ideal image of a substitute older brother. Charles was always too busy to spend time with her anymore, what with his daughters and Harriet. Jasper was the same, only he was too busy fawning over Charles. This left Margaret alone and out in the cold.

It wasn't fair, to be frank.

She wanted her brothers and sister back. She wanted her mother and father back. But it was all extremely unrealistic, she supposed. Her father was dead, her mother fixated on her hatred for his killer; her sister engulfed in her marriage and children, just as Charles was, only he had the added weight of being King on his shoulders; and Jasper, who had completely and utterly idolized Charles, almost to the status of a Saint. She had even heard him speaking with one of the guards, claiming that he would, in quote, 'Do anything to protect his brother'.

She may be sixteen, but in very moments like these, she wanted only to have her family there for her. Not ordering guards, maids and butlers to look after and raise her. It was useless, however; as if she would ever confront her brother about manners such as these. Instead, she focused on the task at hand, which was to convince Geoffrey to allow her to go outside. During her small moment of self-deterioration, Jerald had strode closer, his sword bouncing slightly against his lightly-armored thigh.

"B-B-But sir! I must insist that she remain indoors, for the sake of all of his. If her brother returns and finds her to be outside -"

"Oh, hush up, Geoffrey. Honestly, all you do is whine, whine, whine. Charles said this, Charles said that. You know, some rules are made to be broken," he chuckled, casting a devilish smile and a wink in her direction. "What if I go with her and sit outside while she reads? Is that realistic and simple enough?"

Geoffrey scowled, debating between simple loyalty to the king, or loyalty to his immediate superiors in that moment. The latter eventually won out, and with a thrust, he tossed his finger in Jerald's face.

"You had better keep a close eye on her, lad. There have been one too many threats from the Lancaster's that they will indeed act. They may just target the weakest of the royals. Who knows? They could attempt to kidnap her, for the Almighty Lord's Sakes!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, a slightly-wild look in his eyes.

Jerald grinned and patted the far-shorter man's head. "I'll watch her closely, Geoffy," he grinned. With a hand held in her direction, she dropped her own into his, accepting the offer.

Immediately they were off, him tugging her down the halls and her hurrying to keep up to his long-legged pace. A few times she giggled as she nearly fell, him catching and steadying her easily. They finally managed to reached the doors that would lead them to the gardens behind the castle, and after weaving through the pathways, he brushed off a stone bench for her to sit upon, which she gladly took the offer of.

It was quiet, for the most part. Neither of them spoke, for she was too enraptured in her book, and he too kind to her to interrupt her reading. It was a mutual friendship, one that they had shared since they were children, and she enjoyed it immensely. In all honesty, she wouldn't trade the friendship for the world.

Charles would certainly be lying if he said he did not absolutely love the silent connection he seemed to share with his wife. The two had been married for seven years and yet it still did not feel like seven years had passed. Sometimes, it felt like an eternity, like his entire life had been spent with Harriet and that his entire existence would mean nothing without her. Then, other times, it felt like they were two young spirits again, him twenty and her eighteen, meeting for the first time at an awkward encounter their parents had set up. He remembered being jumpy for the majority of the time, wanting nothing more than to return to his companions who were surely whoring and drinking without him.

Yet, there he was, meeting the woman his parents said he would be marrying so very shortly. He'd kept his doubts about him throughout their courtship, assuming that once they were married, he would be able to resume his usual ways. Of course, that's not how it worked its way out. Only a year after their wedding date, though, Harriet had given birth to Lizzie. While he had settled down remarkably beforehand, he certainly seemed to take his duties as a husband and a father more seriously after the birth of his first daughter. From there on, it seemed, he had placed his wife first and foremost. Being away from her for just a while had the tendency to get him worked up or anxious. And now, he was back with his daughters and his wife, holding the later of the two in his arms tightly, protectively.

He gazed lovingly into her eyes with a look only a lover could recreate. The glazed over appearance of his eyes made him look as if he were in a dream which he swore to God he was at times like these. "Very well, my dear," Harriet replied, bringing a subtle smile to Charles' countenance. "In fact, I have some news to share with you." Charles tilted his head slightly to the side and raised an auburn eyebrow in confusion as his queen looked down at her hands. For a while, he assumed something was wrong, but then he realized she'd been so happy when she greeted him...it couldn't be that bad, right? She called out to the girls and Charles glanced instinctively over his shoulder to see the two spinning in circles joyfully before their mother sent them off to find a flower for him. By then, the young man's curiosity grew greater and greater until he swore he could take it no longer and he would go insane.

Before she had begun to speak, Charles spoke quickly. "My love, do tell me what this matter of import is," he pleaded, clasping his hands around hers. "The anticipation is eating away at me." Was it good? Was it bad? He wasn't so sure of either at this point but he prayed silently to whatever spirit would hear him that it was not misfortune. He slowly let go of her hands and she took one of his hands in her much smaller, daintier hands. Pressing her lips to it, Charles' brow furrowed in confusion. As she guided it to her stomach, however, he couldn't help but smile broadly and eagerly.

"I am with child, my love," she whispered, moving her gaze up to meet his. Charles stood stunned for a moment or two, simply smiling down at her before he could formulate words.

"Y-you are expecting?" he asked redundantly, looking at her with wide eyes that showed a mistake of surprise and elation. He spread his palm along her stomach, grinning. "Another child..." He spoke softly, as if talking too loudly would frighten the child that grew inside of his wife. Suddenly, he enveloped her in his arms again and held her tightly as he lifted her from her feet and swung her around gleefully. Setting her down, he shook his head slowly in disbelief. "Oh, my love, this is wonderful news! Absolutely wonderful!" For a fully-grown man and for the King of Seabel, Charles certainly was an easily excited man, too. The thought of the pregnancy excited him. Not to mention that this could mean a male heir for him.

"It will be a male," he said matter of factly. The idea of having another daughter was a thought he did not want to imagine. "Yes, he will certainly be the male heir we have waited for, my love." He couldn't help but think back, though, to the birth of his two daughters. He hadn't been so worried when Elizabeth was born, since his mother had had Charlotte before giving birth to him. Yet, he'd expected Cecily to be a boy throughout the entire nine moons Hattie had been pregnant.

Although he'd celebrated the successful pregnancy beside his love, he had still been in a horrible, frightening mood that night. His advisor, Harold, avoided all mention of the night he walked in to see the young man cursing the heavens. But, perhaps now that Hattie was pregnant again, they would be blessed with a son to signal that Charles truly was the rightful leader of Seabel. Yes, that certainly seemed like a sign from God. A son would signify an heir, that the Lord himself wanted the Rayleighs to continue their rule. Yet another daughter...well, he did not want to think of that.

Instead, Charles placed a kiss against his wife's tender, supple lips. "Have you told anyone else yet...? he asked softly, his lips hovering above hers. He looked forward greatly toward the both of them making an announcement. How would his rival, James, react? The idea was entertaining. He imagined the dark-haired Lancaster being outraged by the idea. "And, of course, how shall we celebrate this wonderful news, love?" He had ideas in mind, but he most certainly did not want to risk harming her or his heir.

---

Looking back to the beginning of their marriage, Harriet never would have imagined that she could find such happiness with Charles. Being the eldest daughter she had known that parents would marry her off to a wealthy and powerful family, although the Rayleigh’s eldest son, Charles never did cross her mind. The Stanford’s were well off, they had lands, titles and accomplishments to their name; however they were also a rather common family by standards, unlike the blue blooded Rayleigh family, no, the Stanford’s unfortunately had no royalty in their blood. You could imagine her surprise then, when her father had beckoned her into his private library and told her that Francis Rayleigh sought an alliance through marriage with their house. Now it was no secret, to a select few anyway, that Henry Stanford was opposed to the crown, his father, Harriet’s grandfather and his father had all been executed at the tower under King Harold Lancaster and so Henry, although publically reconciled with the King, harboured a deep need for revenge. Harriet had always feared her father’s ravings would see him too face the executioner, however, as luck would have it Francis Rayleigh caught wind of them and proposed a union between the two families, Francis would need Henry’s money and men should war ever break out between the Lancaster’s and the Rayleigh’s.

To begin with Harriet thought little of Charles, their first meeting had been near-nigh disastrous; he was a handsome fellow, tall and well built, with masculine features, however Harriet received the distinct impression that he would rather be elsewhere and true to form she had nearly snapped at him, telling him to go if she were boring him so. Afterwards she had displayed her displeasure to Eleanor in a rather venomous display, her words had been uncouth and vile, seemingly foreign from the young lady’s mouth, yet they displayed a side of Harriet which was well hidden but arose quite suddenly when insulted or chided. However, nowadays the fierceness had morphed from her own pride and vanity being hurt to others causing harm to her family.

Many would tell you that Harriet Rayleigh, nee Stanford was far from the perfect woman, she was not timid nor submissive, she had the courage of any man and the mind of one too, things many men did not like, especially for the wife of a King. Charles was different, after their initial disastrous first meeting, their courtship began and surprisingly he treated her as an equal, asked her opinion on things and it became clear to her then that Charles was not looking for a wife who would idly sit by his feet, no, Charles Rayleigh was a adventurous and passionate man and he would want that in every aspect of life. It was that which caused Harriet to fall in love and once she opened her heart to him, she never looked back and quickly they became one in each other.

The birth of Elizabeth had united them further, the day she was born was vividly engraved forever into her memory, the pain had been excruciating, however the joy she felt holding her own child, her own flesh and blood in her arms was overwhelming. Charles had been happy, perhaps not as much as he would have been had Elizabeth been a boy but jovial none the less. Cecily’s birth had been rather different; Harriet had been in and out of consciousness that she barely recalled a moment of it, only the words ‘it’s a girl’ before darkness had once again consumed her. When she had regained her strength once more and held her babe once again she had cried, not tears of joy but ones of pain and disappointment within herself, she loved Cecily, by god her children were her world but Charles’ disappointment was too much to bear, though he hid it well his true feelings shone through in his eyes, never had she felt so separated from her husband as did those weeks after Cecily’s birth. That had been three years ago and he had been waiting impatiently since, they both had for she wanted a son just as much as he did and was their chance, the babe in her stomach could be a boy…just as much as it could be a girl.

Starring into Charles’ elated eyes all doubts and concern seemed to dissipate, her husband was a good man who loved his children and wife deeply; one need only look at the scene in the gardens to see the truth in such a statement. There was no place Harriet would rather be than in her husband’s loving and protective embrace, there was no place safer. As he spun her around, Harriet chuckled as her arms wrapped securely around his neck, he had acted in a similar way to all her pregnancies and every time he made her feel as if no other woman existed in their world. “Oh, my love, this is wonderful news! Absolutely wonderful!" he spoke joyously, his excitement matching that of child’s, which lead to another reason why Harriet loved Charles so greatly. Most men hid their emotions, whereas Charles acted upon them, he was not afraid to shower his girls with affection in public, showing to the world that they were his only and they truly were.

"It will be a male…Yes, he will certainly be the male heir we have waited for, my love." Hearing those words made her concern and worry rise once more, the smile briefly fell from her lips as she lowered her head. With a steady breath her gaze returned to Charles’ along with her happy smile, “Of course, dear. My sickness has been a great deal worse this time, it surpasses anything I felt with the girls and I have heard that carrying boys will have that effect.” Harriet spoke confidently, speaking the words they both needed to hear. She could tell from his soulful eyes that he was having the same concerns, she could always tell his true emotions from those stormy, enchanting pools. Yet she could not bring herself to ask the ‘what is?’ no, at this time she did not have the courage. The kiss suppressed both their concerns for the time being, it was short, sweet but so full of love. "Have you told anyone else yet...?”

Harriet rested her forehead gently against Charles’ her lips still tingling from their kiss, “hmm” Harriet sighed in a happy delirium, “Only my mother. So I suggest we make the enouncement before she tells the entire Kingdom.” With another kiss she giggled against Charles’ lips, “But let us tell the girls ourselves beforehand.”

"And, of course, how shall we celebrate this wonderful news, love?" Charles asked innocently enough, however Harriet saw the hidden context behind his words and smirked against his lips. “Together. Just you and me, it’s been so long since we last had time to ourselves.” Her hand travelled subconsciously to her stomach as she tenderly rubbed soothing circles to the small swell, the smile never leaving her lips, “Are you truly happy Charles? I am myself but I must admit my fears of that family. Darling, when they find out they will be dangerous, we must do something about them.”

Too elated and far too distracted, Charles didn't even catch the slightest glimpse of Harriet's fallen smile as he spoke of how he knew for a fact the child she carried was a boy. Of course, he really didn't, but the simple act of stating this idea made him all the more confident that his heir was so very close. His worry for an heir hadn't become an actual priority until the throne had become his. Before hand, he hadn't been worried in the slightest. In fact, if anything, he was quite lax about producing an heir for himself. Even at the ripe age of twenty-seven he should not have worried about having an heir now. Potentially, he had decades ahead of him on the throne of Seabel.

And yet, he worried more and more as his reign continued that he would be unable to produce an heir before the Lancasters rose up again. It was inevitable, really. James was a man who would not sit ideally as the Rayleighs controlled Seabel. No, James certainly would have a plan of attack, a way of recapturing the crown. Charles Rayleigh certainly did not fear the idea. He'd always been a fan of combat. There was nothing more exhilarating than leading the charge into battle, crying out in the name of your house. In a way, he was a mixture of a young, restless soul and an old, reminiscent soul, both of which craved the feeling of adrenaline coursing through the veins. He would much prefer death in battle or death from injury to a death in his sleep. Harriet had long since accepted this fact, even if she didn't approve of it herself. With this in mind, he knew a battle with the Lancasters could spell disaster for him, at least. An heir would further secure his family name and, should the Lancasters be defeated again, secure the throne for the Rayleighs.

"Of course, dear. My sickness has been a great deal worse this time, it surpasses anything I felt with the girls and I have heard that carrying boys will have that effect." Yes, he had heard that too from countless mouths in his court. Charles prayed that such tales were true. They must be true. He shook the doubts from his mind, though, as they kissed. He nodded in response to her having only told her mother. That was good. He'd be excited to make the announcement regarding the pregnancy alongside her.

"The girls will be absolutely elated, Hattie," he murmured, already imaging the excited, broad smiles they'd wear when they heard of the news. He laughed lightly in a breathy manner with his forehead still against hers "Yes, knowing your mother we have until dinner to tell our court before even the other kingdoms hear it." His lighthearted words kept him distracted from his worries of only moments ago. And, truly, that was how Charles's mind worked, nowadays. He knew for certain that once he left his wife's side and returned to his throne, the weight of a kingdom would be thrust on to his shoulders. The shoulders of a man his age were not built to hold a kingdom but he'd managed. If anything, Harriet was the one true force keeping him sane and in-check. For, without the guidance and support of his headstrong queen, the ruling of Seabel would easily become too tiresome.

With his seemingly innocent, yet suggestive question, Hattie had smirked into his lips. In turn, Charles grinned too in amusement. "Together. Just you and me, it’s been so long since we last had time to ourselves." Her hand moved slowly along the fabric of her dress, tracing light circles against the subtle swell of her stomach that had begun to show. He watched, smiling in the same way any father would at a child, with love and adoration and pride all piled together into one dreamy sort of smile.

"And I would have it no other way, my queen," he replied softly. If he could have, he would have kept everything frozen at this moment forever. The girls were off playing, his wife was expecting his heir, and he was beside her. All was safe, all was calm. Instinctively, Charles placed his hand over Harriet's, his fingers intertwining with her's slightly as he moved his hand along her stomach lightly. So entranced was he by the peacefulness of the moment that he almost completely missed Harriet's question.

"Are you truly happy, Charles? I am myself but I must admit my fears of that family. Darling, when they find out they will be dangerous, we must do something about them." His brow furrowed in concern and the king pulled his hand off of the stomach of his wife as he formulated his response mentally, looking down at her again but with slight worry this time.

"My love..." he murmured, trailing off slightly as he lifted her hands in his and held them tightly, reassuringly. "My love, I have only been happier the day I married you and the days our daughters were born. Of course I am happy. Words...they can not even begin to describe the elation I feel. I was blessed enough with just you, then with our daughters and you, but now another child? I do believe the Heavens themselves shine upon us." He kissed her quickly and then moved one of his hands to her cheek, cupping it tenderly as he met her gaze with his still worried one. "I share your fears too, Hattie...I do not get through at least one day without worrying for the safety of you or Elizabeth or Cecily or any of our family. But, we have an army and guards and I would rather die and see myself die over and over again than to let any harm come to our family. You and I both know fully well the extent those vile Lancasters would go to to take the crown for themselves yet again."

Looking back now, he truly did regret not having killed James when he had the chance. Instead, with the death of the old king and the surrender of the Lancaster forces, he'd simply allowed the man to flee North. If he had killed him, he could have stopped the worrying of him and his wife. Even better, he could have killed James and the man's brother, eradicating the Lancaster family. So many regrets...if only he could have changed it. Hearing his name back from where the castle doors were, Charles sighed and pressed a kiss against Harriet's forehead as he pulled himself away from her reluctantly.

"I do believe the old man gets grumpier the older he gets," he joked, trying to lighten the mood before he left her. "I have to return to the court, love. We will tell the girls tonight, alright? And then we shall make the announcement soon?" Out of habit, he'd posed the statements as questions for Hattie's approval. Most kings would have shrugged off the opinion of a woman, yet Charles knew she was one of his court's greatest assets. "I love you," he called quickly over his shoulder as he turned and started back to the palace, pulling his cloak tighter around his lean form. Just before he'd disappeared past the ornate doors, he glanced back again at his queen as if to etch her image into his mind. Then, leading, he started toward his throne room with a more elegant, refined gait in a stereotypical monarch-like fashion.

---

Chares’ joy was utterly contagious, his grin infection as Harriet quickly found herself mimicking his emotions, for a woman who lived for her family their joy was the only thing that could make her truly happy. As Queen of the wealthy country she had some of the finest jewels and gems in the entire land, her gowns were made of the most splendid fabrics and softest furs which the world had to offer and yet none of them came even close to bringing her the joy that her husband’s smile and her children’s laughter brought her. It was remarkable really, how quickly Charles could quell even her most darkest of fears, how with just a glance of his soulful, blue eyes, the flash of his smile and the gentleness of his embrace could make her feel as if she were in a impregnable fortress, guarded by the finest armies of the worlds, she felt untouchable…she felt safe. It was a feeling that come hell or high water if Charles was by her side her family would come to no harm and their legacy would continue through the ages, it was a feeling that Harriet knew she could no longer live without.

You could not deny Harriet’s love and devotion to her family, she had many flaws but it was a strong redeeming quality. Unlike many women of her stature, Harriet had insisted that her children be kept close to her, she would not her own flesh and blood carted off to another noble family to be raised and taught, no she had birthed them and so help her god they would remain with her until her last breath. It was this devotion that made her dangerous, she would do absolutely anything to assure their safety, fight, lie or cheat, nothing was out of the question, especially in such dangerous times, when everyone was a potential threat and you could trust no one, it was in these times that Harriet Rayleigh proved to be the most dangerous. It was her job as a woman to bring children into the world, but it was the job of a mother to love and nurture and protect them at whatever cost and this babe growing within her, should god will it to be a boy, would need the most protection and nurturing of all.

For a short moment in time, Charles and Harriet were not King and Queen but merely husband and wife, sharing a tender and loving moment at the news of a child. The moment was rare, they were seldom alone anymore, if the girls weren’t demanding their entire attention then it would be matter of state doing so, but it just made Harriet cherish their moments together even more and this one would sure be one that would remain poignant in memory for years to come. Their hands entwined, Harriet’s guiding as they traced soft circles above the material of her dress, both in their shared happy delirium. So much so that Harriet almost forgot the question she had asked only moments ago, something which once again came to the forefront of her mind as Charles removed his hand, instead capturing hers in a firm but reassuring grasp as he gently murmured. “My love, I have only been happier the day I married you and the days our daughters were born. Of course I am happy. Words...they cannot even begin to describe the elation I feel. I was blessed enough with just you, then with our daughters and you, but now another child? I do believe the Heavens themselves shine upon us." Charles’ words came like sweet music; she had wanted to reply with something of equal sentiment only to beaten by the tenderness of his lips upon her own. A hand moved to cup her cheek, lifted her gaze to his, when in his eyes she saw her own fears. "I share your fears too, Hattie...I do not get through at least one day without worrying for the safety of you or Elizabeth or Cecily or any of our family. But, we have an army and guards and I would rather die and see myself die over and over again than to let any harm come to our family. You and I both know fully well the extent those vile Lancaster’s would go to take the crown for themselves yet again."

Harriet swallowed the lump in her throat as Charles spoke, she could not fathom if his words were a comfort or just another concern. Charles may be willing to die to protect them, just like any man would his family, however she just prayed this wouldn’t make him reckless; it was no secret to her how Charles wished to die, he had told her plenty enough, to die in battle would be the most honourable death and it nearly killed her every time she thought about it, that he would rather die young and in battle than old and in her bed. Did he not understand that she herself would rather die a million times over than to be parted from him so soon? Did he not see the pain it would Lizzie and Cecily to know that their father would never comfort them after a bad dream? She wanted to curse him and call him selfish, anything that would make the pain go away but she could not bring herself to sully such a beautiful moment and so she subjected herself to denial, once again. “They fought against you once and fell, my love, they’d be fools to believe that it wouldn’t happen again.”

From the palace doors, Pierrepont called her husband, even from where she stood Harriet could see the agitation in his rounded figure; she frowned instantly, never had she liked the man, he was harsh, greedy, far too familiar with Charles and not to mention how often he forgot his place; the feeling was mutual as far as Harriet believed, she had been called a commoner by him before and he made no secret in this dislike of her family. "I do believe the old man gets grumpier the older he gets," Charles lack of anger towards the man merely showed how high he held him in regard, but if she would give him anything it would be that his loyalty was next only to her own, still that did not change her feelings towards him much, it only made him a little more tolerable. “perhaps if he were less of a glutton then he may be able to find himself a new wife to satisfy his needs, instead of taking his frustration out on you.” The snide comment fell easily from Harriet’s lips as she rolled her eyes, her disdain towards the man becoming all the more evident, not that she had hidden the fact from her husband.

"I have to return to the court, love. We will tell the girls tonight, alright? And then we shall make the announcement soon?" Harriet sighed lightly in defeat but offered a small smile none-the-less, it was not Charles’ fault, there was no use in taking her frustration out on him, besides he had promised them a night alone and she had that to look forward to. “Very well,” she nodded in agreement. "I love you," Charles spoke over his shoulder, instantly causing her smile to broaden as she called out, “I love you too.”

---

---

---

---

“Your Grace, you can’t leave your room, you’re not well!” A small but determined voice sounded from the Queen’s bedchambers, where from the past six days all could be heard was sounds of whimpering and retching, this paired with the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting coming to and fro with washing basins would have been a distinct indication to anyone passing that all was not well from within the Queen’s chambers.

The announcement of Harriet’s pregnancy had been made a few days after she had told Charles and as custom, the whole of Briar rejoiced in their news. The bells of the abbey rang in unison as town criers read the news to townsfolk, news had travelled across the land quickly and soon Lords and Ladies from every corner of the Kingdom had begun to send their well wishes and prayers for a boy. Of course the court had too rejoiced in the happy news also and the most marvellous feast had been held in their honour, although the mere smell and sight of the different meat had stirred up the Queen’s nausea, causing her to leave the room early she had at least been well enough to enjoy sharing the news with her daughters, who had been equally ecstatic.

It was soon after that, when Harriet took a turn for the worst. It had started one morning; the sickness had stirred up within her like a storm and was now unleashing its misery. At the beginning it had seemed no different from the sickness she had experienced when pregnant with the girls, but it had soon changed its course, now almost every smell made her vomit, there was no release in the nausea it was with her every moment of the day. It was not only odours that caused her to retch but also anything that she tried to eat made her stomach serge, all she could eat was a few grapes here and there or a small slice of bread. This had scared her immensely, surely this was not normal but Ser Knaveil had assured her whilst her severity of sickness was quite rare in pregnancy it was normal all the same. Still, she did not miss the slight concern in his eyes upon leaving and his orders of staying in confinement until it passed, if it passed.

After being stuck in her bed for the six days, Harriet felt as if she were going stir crazy, she was not a woman who liked to do nothing, she liked being outdoors, playing with her children, doing anything she could to pass the time and so as you can’t imagine, she was not handling this confinement too well. She sat on the end of her bed, clad in her thin cotton nightgown and heavy, velvet green robe, her long golden hair having been recently combed, hung loosely in waves around her waist, in fact she would have made quite a pretty sight that stormy night, had it not been for the threatening glare in her steel grey eyes, which were narrowed in on one of her ladies before. “Lady Poole, If you say that blasted sentence one more time, I swear to god I shall have you thrown in the tower” Harriet’s voice echoed around her room with the idle threat, made more so intimidating by the roar of thunder outside her window. The woman’s posture sank with the Queen’s anger, it was rare that Harriet would raise her voice to people but when she did it was a scary sight. “I feeling perfectly fine and if any of you try to stop me leaving this room then you shall be dismissed from my service,” Harriet pressed, wanting nothing more than to escape her prison. For the first time in days the sickness had eased off and she had managed to stomach some chicken, which had given her a slight boost in energy and eagerness to leave.

As she rose from her sitting position and began to walk towards the door, Harriet half expected at least Lady Poole to object once again, however she remained quiet, simply offering a quick curtsey as she passed.

The corridor was cold and gloomy on the stormy night, had Harriet been a child it would have most definitely have scared her. Thankfully her parent’s apartments were not too far from her own and quickly arrived at their door. “Mother? Father?” Harriet called out upon entering, expecting to see at least one of them almost immediately, she was greeted by silence. Moving from room to room, she checked her father’s bed chamber only to find it empty, not that she was surprised, he was most likely with Charles discussing urgent matter but as she moved to her mother’s bed chambers across the hall, she was surprised to see hers empty. Annabelle never usually stayed with the court this late, although instead of leaving Harriet walked further into the room deciding that she would wait for her mother to return. Walking around the room, she took note of the little things that her mother had added to make the place feel a little more like her room back at Pendlebury, including a painting of her childhood home, it was little trinkets like that which caused the light chuckle to fall from Harriet’s lips. Running her hand lightly over the scattered letters on Annabelle’s writing desk, her eyes briskly ran over her mother’s handwriting, along with some handwriting that she did not recognise, suddenly she caught sight of the ending of one letter.

Your daughter, Eleanor.

At first Harriet thought it must have been an old letter, but as she brought it closer and read the lines, her eyes widened in surprise and shock. “Harriet, my darling girl, what are you doing here, I thought the physician told you to stay in bed?” Annabelle’s voice startled her from behind. Turning sharply on her heel Harriet’s cool glare came to rest upon her mother, “What is the meaning of this? she demanded, her fist tightly clenching the letter in her hand as she thrusted it towards her mother’s face.

Annabelle’s smile dropped almost instantly, there had been dozens of letter scattered across that desk but she just which one she held in her hand, “Harriet…” she began, only to be cut off by her eldest daughters sharp tongue, “You have been writing to Eleanor and Jonathan?” she hissed, dropping the letter to the ground. “How could you do this? This-This is treason, you stupid woman!”

“Hold your tongue girl, you may the Queen but I am still your mother and you will not speak to me in such a manner!” Annabelle’s voice echoed above that of her daughters, but it worked, Harriet fell silent instantly casting her gaze downwards. It had been a long time since Annabelle had spoken to Harriet with such harshness, nobody else would be able to get away with it, but no matter what her age Harriet would always feel intimidated by her mother’s sharp tones. Bending down Annabelle picked up the letter, trying her best to smooth out the creases in the paper, placing it back down on the desk before turning to look at Harriet, a sigh escaping from her lips. “They are my children also, Harriet. What would you have me do? Disown them like your father?”

“Yes!” came Harriet’s sharp and instant reply, one which made Anna wince with pain. How had they come to this? How had it come so that she had to choose between her children? It hurt every day, both physically and mentally, she wanted nothing more than to hold Jonathan and Eleanor in her arms once again and these letters had been the only thing to remotely dull that pain. “How could you do this?”

Annabelle actually laughed at that, “How could I? Harriet, you’re a mother, I would expect above all for you to understand.” Disappointment caused through the older woman like a knife, taking a deep breath she attempted to steady her anger at her unreasonable child. Although a look of remorse swept across Harriet’s features, Annabelle could tell that it was not the end, Harriet got that stubborn streak from her father all of her children did. She doubted her daughter would tolerate her ‘fraternising with the enemy’ so it were and for part of her Annabelle could understand this, her duty was to her husband and she was right, this was technically treason, had anyone else been found with such letter they would have immediately been sent to the tower and for that reason she had chosen to keep them secret, not even telling her husband. “What would you do if Lizzie and Cecily were separated, each declared the enemy of the other? You cannot tell me for one moment that you would not do the same.”

Harriet pinched the bridge of her nose as she shook her head, of course her mother was right, she was always right but that did not help her in this situation, “What would you have me do, you speak of dividing ones family but you are doing that to me now!” Annabelle approached Harriet slowly, placing both hands gently on the side of her face she forced her to look her in the eye, “I want you to forget that you saw that letter.” Harriet could have laughed at the audacity of her mother’s words, forget? This was something she would never forget, even if she wanted to; what was she to do? She was unsure how Charles would react to the news if she told him, there was no telling, he liked her mother that was true but he could not let something like this go unpunished, but it would be nothing to how her father would react. She shook her head, she knew what she had to do, “I won’t tell anyone this time, but this cannot continue, I will not be able to help you if you are caught.”

Annabelle smiled in relief, “thank you, my love” she sighed, resting her head against Harriet’s. Although in her heart she knew she would be lying to Harriet if she said she would cease contact completely, she would be failing as a mother to Eleanor and Jonathan if she did that, but she could at least put her eldest daughters mind at rest by doing so. Suddenly Annabelle recoiled back, concern written across her face as she rested her palm against Harriet’s forehead, “Darling your burning up.” Harriet could only nod as the nausea slowly began to creep back to her, her knees weakened as the pain in her head return also, reaching forward she grasped onto her mother’s arm for support, “Help me back, mother.”

Wrapping an arm around her daughter’s waist, the pair stumbled down the corridor, with every step Harriet fought the urge to retch, she couldn’t vomit in the corridor, she just couldn’t. Finally they reached her rooms and Annabelle quickly ushered her in, directing her to the empty washing basin where Harriet instantly vomited, whimpering in-between, once she had finished, she slumped down against the floor, falling into her mother’s arms, crying against her shoulder. Annabelle sat there rubbing soft circles into her daughters back, placing light kisses against her golden hair, “there, there, my love, there, there” she hushed as she use do all those years ago. [/color]

Harriet was taken back to being sick as a child, sat on the cold floor her mother’s arms wrapped around her slender body as she cried into the crook of her neck, all the emotions from the past week suddenly came to the surface and tore down the Queen’s stoic façade. She was scared, scared for her life, scared for that of her child’s, scared of just about everything and despite how well she buried it, she could not keep it dormant forever. “Mother I’m dying” Harriet sobbed into her mother’s shoulder, her dramatic words causing Annabelle to wince, “Harriet do not say such thing’s” she hissed. These were words a mother never wanted to hear from her child, even when they were completely unjustified, Harriet was not dying, Knaveil had assured them that much. Although this sickness was greater in severity than anything Annabelle had experienced with her own pregnancies, throughout all six of them, she still did not worry for her eldest daughters life, Harriet was strong she would defeat her ailment, she was sure of it.

“But it’s true, I feel so weak.”

Annabelle frowned and gently tilted Harriet head to look at her, “You must stop this talk of nonsense immediately, suppose Charles hears you, he’s already worried sick, or even worse what if the girls heard you talking in such a way. Lizzie is already fretting and Cecily clings to my legs all day asking for her mother, they are suffering enough, they do not need to hear such words from you.” Annabelle watched as Harriet’s face crumbled, it seemed that her sharp words had given her swift kick, a shaky hand came up to cover her mouth as fresh tears gathered in her eyes, “oh my girls, my girls” Harriet sobbed once again sinking into her mother’s embrace. Annabelle ran her slender finger down Harriet’s back, the comforting action seemed to relax her somewhat as her sobs became less fierce, she did not like to say words that would make people upset, however in this case they proved to be the driving force Harriet needed to snap out of her self-pity, it could be extremely dangerous in such situations. “My darling I promise you won’t feel like this forever, just think about the child growing within you, it’s his way of letting you know that he’s strong and he’s here.” Annabelle only realised after that she had called the baby a ‘he,’ it was almost by default that she used the term also, the entire court was already referring to her unborn grandchild as a he and although she still had her worries, Annabelle fathomed that only a boy could cause his mother such anguish. “Besides, what type of world would it be if a child did not distress its mother?” She jested in a attempt to lighten the mood, it seemed to work as a small breathy laugh escaped from Harriet’s lips.

Pulling back from her mother’s embrace, Harriet offered a small smile of gratitude before it dropped suddenly as the bile rose in her throat. Annabelle took note in the quick change and reached for the bucket, just in time before Harriet once again vomited, taking the bucket away, Annabelle placed it to the side, picking up a cloth, she submerged it in some cool water and returned to her daughter, still sat slumped on the floor. “Here, rinse out your mouth” she ordered holding a glass of rosemary water to her daughters lips, which she drank from, swirling the liquid around in her mouth before spitting it back out. As she did, Annabelle placed the glass to the side and retrieved the wet cloth from the basin, ringing it out before sitting back down next to Harriet, dabbing her slightly warm forehead as she sobbed against her mother’s shoulder.

Both women almost missed the soft knocking at the door and Charles’ light tone, it wasn’t until the door opened and Charles walked in did Annabelle look up and almost breathed a sigh of relief, ushering him forward, Charles knelt beside them a comforting hand coming to rest upon the small of his wife’s back. Annabelle’s heart almost broke all over again at the pain etched into her son-in-laws features; she could tell that he was almost as scared as Harriet was, if not more so.

"My love...are you alright?" His worried tone alerting Harriet fully to his presence, “Charles” she sighed breathlessly turning to face him, instantly wrapping her arms around his neck, just needing to feel him close, “I need it too stop,” she sobbed into the crook of his neck, “I need it to stop.”

Annabelle sighed as she rose to her feet, she understood her daughters pain she really did, not being able to eat anything without vomiting yet wanting to more than anything to assure that your child grows strong was a pain only a mother could feel and all the while a weakness hovered above you like a storm cloud, making even the simplest of tasks seem impossible. Although she had no doubts that the worst should pass within the next week or so, she would pray that it would do so quicker if only for her daughters sanity, the woman before her was just a shell of the Harriet she had raised, yet pregnancy could do strange things to a woman.

“I want to see my girls. Charles, please get me my children.”

“I shall go and get them my sweet but you must compose yourself, it will only pain them more to see you in such a way.” Harriet nodded at her mother’s words, pulling away from Charles’ embrace she placed her hand against the hollow of his cheek offering a small smile as she did so, her eyes still shinning bright with tears, “Will you help me up, my love?” Harriet asked unsure if she had the strength to push herself up from the floor.

Annabelle smiled at her daughter, placing a kiss against her warm forehead as she passed, “I shall go and get them now.” Before leaving she offered Charles a quick smile of encouragement and hope for a great part of Harriet’s strength came from her children.

---

Annabelle’s feet took her swiftly along the darkened corridor towards her grandchildren’s room; thankfully they weren’t too far away, Harriet had always insisted on keeping them close to her. Hopefully they wouldn’t be asleep, although she doubted they would be, if they were anything like either of their parents then they were probably still up driving their nanny mad with questions and demands. Like usual Annabelle entered the room without knocking, the click of the door causing three heads to dart towards her direction, two of joy and one of relief. The girl’s nanny offered her a quick courtesy and a apologetic look and she spoke, “My apologies Lady Stanford, I have been trying to get the princesses in bed for the past ten minutes, but they won’t settle.”

“Do not fret about it, I have come here to take the girls to their mother” spoke Annabelle, smiling as the smiles of her grandchildren brightened with joy. “Really? We get to see mother?” Lizzie enquired quizzically as if she did not believe her ears. Annabelle nodded in response “Yes, now come on you.” They didn’t need much coaxing, both girls jumped from the bed quickly slipping their small feet into their slippers before hurrying past their grandmother and out of the door, whom watched them with a shake of her head and a breathy laugh, she too was about to follow them when she remembered the nanny, turning back quickly she offered the woman a small smile “you may retire for the evening, I believe the girls shall be spending the night with their parents.”

Out in the corridor Annabelle barely had time to catch up to the girls, when a voice caught her attention, “Mother!” Turning sharply on her heel her eyes landed upon George, her youngest son instantly bringing a smile to her tired face, “oh , George, my sweet boy” she cooed bringing him into a warm embrace. “Girls! Come look who is here?”

Lizzie and Cecily both reappeared around the corner, bright smiles illuminated their pretty faces, “Uncle George!” they cried in unison running towards the man they had not seen in quite a while. George crouched down to their level as they ran at him, wrapping their small arms around his neck causing him to laugh as he hugged them back, “now, what are my sweet nieces doing out of bed at such an hour?”

“We are going to see mother” Lizzie answered for them both, as she usually did. George nodded still smiling but he quickly glanced up at his mother who offered him a knowing look, “well then, best not keep your mother waiting.” As they approached Harriet’s bed chambers, Annabelle opened the door for them both, watching with a happy smile as they ran inside without even a second thought, gently she closed the door behind them and turned back to her son. “What are you doing here, my dear? You weren’t supposed to leave Pendlebury until the end of the month.”

“Father sent a messenger telling me Harriet was greatly unwell and so I came here early” George explained, taking hold of his mother’s hand, concern written across his face. Annabelle sighed deeply as she silently cursed her husband, “Your father was wrong to worry you so,” she replied gently, it’s true that her husband had been near-nigh impossible these past few days, wrecked with worry for his eldest daughter and no matter what Annabelle said, nothing seemed to calm him, “but yes, she is not doing so well at the moment, the sickness with the child is a great deal worse than she has experienced before.”

George bit the corner of his lip in concern, “Will she be alright?” he asked tepidly, almost scared of the answer. Annabelle beamed at this and nodded,
“I believe so, Sir Knaveil has assured us that it is nothing more than the pregnancy, it’s just a great deal worse this time around and that’s getting her spirits down, she can’t eat a great either, so that has made her a little weak but I have every confidence that she’ll be okay again in a few weeks.” George couldn’t help but sigh at his mother’s words, relief replacing his worried features, “true to your sisters form she has managed to cause quite a stir within the palace, no more so than with the King and your father.”

George couldn’t help but chuckle at this as he nodded “she does have a knack of doing so,” he shook his head, “how is the King doing?” Annabelle frowned slightly followed by a quick sigh, “Not so good, he is terribly worried. I’m not going to lie to you George, how ill she is scares me but she will be okay, perhaps the girls shall lift her spirits.”

---

As Charles lowered her down onto the bed, Harriet instantly felt some relief as her aching body sank into the feather mattress and warm furs, leaning back against the mountain of pillow; she rested her head back against the solid oak headboard of her four poster bed, her eyes drooping as tiredness swept over her, for the moment her nausea had ceased but it made her fearful of movement just in case it stirred it up once again. Feeling the bed dip a little as Charles moved beside her, Harriet waited to be engulfed by his arms, she did not have to wait long, soon the Queen found herself being held against her husband’s chest, "It will all be alright, my love...I promise you, it will all be alright." Charles spoke the comforting words to ease her troubles and it worked, then again Charles had always possessed the power to quell even her darkest of troubles with brief sentimental words. Had she been another woman and had he been another man, she probably would have scoffed in his face, men always made promised they couldn’t keep; alas they were no ordinary couple, they were Charles and Harriet Rayleigh, King and Queen of Seabel, and even if Charles promised her the impossible she would believe him, it’s what women in love do.

“Hmm, I love you,” Harriet murmured into his chest as he placed a kiss against the crown of her head. They stayed in that serenity for a few moments, it was the most peace she had felt in days, so much so that the lure of sleep lulled her closer to the sandman, that was until cries of “Mother!” filled the room. Tilting her head slightly, Harriet’s blue hues shone as her heavy eyes fell upon her children’s faces bringing a happy smile to her face.

The girls launched themselves onto the large bed, their eagerness causing a small chuckle to fall from Harriet’s lips, it was small and breathy but it was a laugh nonetheless. She watched as Charles lifted the girls up towards the head of the bed, setting them down in-between the two, instantly they both curled into her side, filling her with warmth which only other mother could understand. “We’ve missed you mother” Lizzie spoke first, starring up at her through eyes which were the exact duplicate of their fathers, “I’ve missed you both, so, so much” Harriet uttered pressing her lips to her eldest daughter’s forehead before doing the same with her youngest.

Feeling Charles’ hand grasp her own, Harriet directed her gaze towards him, "I love you, Hattie. I know I've said it before countless times but it will never not be true. You and I, especially you, will definitely pull through this. Our son will be strong. He is your son and my son, no? Two of the strongest in Seabel, if I do say so myself." Harriet smiled in utter content, her free hand coming to rest on her swollen stomach, although she knew this pregnancy would be a long and tiresome one, the outcome would be worth it, that much was certain. “I love you all, so much” she sighed as her head once again falling back against the headboard as her eyes began to droop.

“Mama, you’re not going to die are you?” Cecily’s little voice asked. Harriet’s breath caught in her throat as tears prickled her eyes, she could barely bring herself to look at Cecily from the pain in her heart but once she did she saw a little’s girls anguish and frightful expression and that just broke her heart all over again. Releasing a shaky breath, Harriet mustered all the strength she could and lowered herself down so her head rested against the pillows and she was level with her children, praying that the sickness would not return. Bringing her hand up, her slender fingers brushed against Cecily’s rosy cheek as she smiled, “Who told you such nonsense, my darling?” Instantly feeling guilt at the words she had uttered before.

Cecily instantly looked back at Elizabeth, unbeknownst to the youngster giving away the culprit, Harriet’s lips pursed into a brief frown as Lizzie suck into her father’s side, “Why did you say that to your sister, Elizabeth?” Harriet watched as her daughters eyes began to waters, gazing at her with that big soulful look Charles often shot her when she was angry at him and it made them almost impossible to stay mad at. “I’m sorry mother but I didn’t mean to, honest I didn’t! Cessy asked me why I was crying and I said because I was scared you were dying.” Instantly Harriet’s anger withered away, replaced instead by disappointment in herself, “oh my darlings, I am so sorry I made you feel that way but I promise you I am not going anywhere soon. Besides I don’t think your poor father would be able to keep up with you on his own…” Harriet lazily smirked in jest as her eyes wondered up to her husband, “No, I’m definitely not going anywhere” she added just for him.

In truth this is what she needed, her family was her strength and around them she could feel her strength building, they were the light in her life, the most precious beings in her world and it truly pained her to see them so broken. Her mother was right, she was being selfish, for days all she could think about was her own pain and frustration, yet she did not spare a thought for the pain and suffering she was inflicting upon others, especially her children, they had been scared and left in a dark and for a brief moment Harriet couldn’t help but feel like a failure as a mother. Blinking back the tears, she smiled across at her beautiful family, hope flooding her heart, together they would get through this.

---

Annabelle’s feet took her swiftly along the darkened corridor towards her grandchildren’s room; thankfully they weren’t too far away, Harriet had always insisted on keeping them close to her. Hopefully they wouldn’t be asleep, although she doubted they would be, if they were anything like either of their parents then they were probably still up driving their nanny mad with questions and demands. Like usual Annabelle entered the room without knocking, the click of the door causing three heads to dart towards her direction, two of joy and one of relief. The girl’s nanny offered her a quick courtesy and a apologetic look and she spoke, “My apologies Lady Stanford, I have been trying to get the princesses in bed for the past ten minutes, but they won’t settle.”

“Do not fret about it, I have come here to take the girls to their mother” spoke Annabelle, smiling as the smiles of her grandchildren brightened with joy. “Really? We get to see mother?” Lizzie enquired quizzically as if she did not believe her ears. Annabelle nodded in response “Yes, now come on you.” They didn’t need much coaxing, both girls jumped from the bed quickly slipping their small feet into their slippers before hurrying past their grandmother and out of the door, whom watched them with a shake of her head and a breathy laugh, she too was about to follow them when she remembered the nanny, turning back quickly she offered the woman a small smile “you may retire for the evening, I believe the girls shall be spending the night with their parents.”

Out in the corridor Annabelle barely had time to catch up to the girls, when a voice caught her attention, “Mother!” Turning sharply on her heel her eyes landed upon George, her youngest son instantly bringing a smile to her tired face, “oh , George, my sweet boy” she cooed bringing him into a warm embrace. “Girls! Come look who is here?”

Lizzie and Cecily both reappeared around the corner, bright smiles illuminated their pretty faces, “Uncle George!” they cried in unison running towards the man they had not seen in quite a while. George crouched down to their level as they ran at him, wrapping their small arms around his neck causing him to laugh as he hugged them back, “now, what are my sweet nieces doing out of bed at such an hour?”

“We are going to see mother” Lizzie answered for them both, as she usually did. George nodded still smiling but he quickly glanced up at his mother who offered him a knowing look, “well then, best not keep your mother waiting.” As they approached Harriet’s bed chambers, Annabelle opened the door for them both, watching with a happy smile as they ran inside without even a second thought, gently she closed the door behind them and turned back to her son. “What are you doing here, my dear? You weren’t supposed to leave Pendlebury until the end of the month.”

“Father sent a messenger telling me Harriet was greatly unwell and so I came here early” George explained, taking hold of his mother’s hand, concern written across his face. Annabelle sighed deeply as she silently cursed her husband, “Your father was wrong to worry you so,” she replied gently, it’s true that her husband had been near-nigh impossible these past few days, wrecked with worry for his eldest daughter and no matter what Annabelle said, nothing seemed to calm him, “but yes, she is not doing so well at the moment, the sickness with the child is a great deal worse than she has experienced before.”

George bit the corner of his lip in concern, “Will she be alright?” he asked tepidly, almost scared of the answer. Annabelle beamed at this and nodded,
“I believe so, Sir Knaveil has assured us that it is nothing more than the pregnancy, it’s just a great deal worse this time around and that’s getting her spirits down, she can’t eat a great either, so that has made her a little weak but I have every confidence that she’ll be okay again in a few weeks.” George couldn’t help but sigh at his mother’s words, relief replacing his worried features, “true to your sisters form she has managed to cause quite a stir within the palace, no more so than with the King and your father.”

George couldn’t help but chuckle at this as he nodded “she does have a knack of doing so,” he shook his head, “how is the King doing?” Annabelle frowned slightly followed by a quick sigh, “Not so good, he is terribly worried. I’m not going to lie to you George, how ill she is scares me but she will be okay, perhaps the girls shall lift her spirits.”

---

As Charles lowered her down onto the bed, Harriet instantly felt some relief as her aching body sank into the feather mattress and warm furs, leaning back against the mountain of pillow; she rested her head back against the solid oak headboard of her four poster bed, her eyes drooping as tiredness swept over her, for the moment her nausea had ceased but it made her fearful of movement just in case it stirred it up once again. Feeling the bed dip a little as Charles moved beside her, Harriet waited to be engulfed by his arms, she did not have to wait long, soon the Queen found herself being held against her husband’s chest, "It will all be alright, my love...I promise you, it will all be alright." Charles spoke the comforting words to ease her troubles and it worked, then again Charles had always possessed the power to quell even her darkest of troubles with brief sentimental words. Had she been another woman and had he been another man, she probably would have scoffed in his face, men always made promised they couldn’t keep; alas they were no ordinary couple, they were Charles and Harriet Rayleigh, King and Queen of Seabel, and even if Charles promised her the impossible she would believe him, it’s what women in love do.

“Hmm, I love you,” Harriet murmured into his chest as he placed a kiss against the crown of her head. They stayed in that serenity for a few moments, it was the most peace she had felt in days, so much so that the lure of sleep lulled her closer to the sandman, that was until cries of “Mother!” filled the room. Tilting her head slightly, Harriet’s blue hues shone as her heavy eyes fell upon her children’s faces bringing a happy smile to her face.

The girls launched themselves onto the large bed, their eagerness causing a small chuckle to fall from Harriet’s lips, it was small and breathy but it was a laugh nonetheless. She watched as Charles lifted the girls up towards the head of the bed, setting them down in-between the two, instantly they both curled into her side, filling her with warmth which only other mother could understand. “We’ve missed you mother” Lizzie spoke first, starring up at her through eyes which were the exact duplicate of their fathers, “I’ve missed you both, so, so much” Harriet uttered pressing her lips to her eldest daughter’s forehead before doing the same with her youngest.

Feeling Charles’ hand grasp her own, Harriet directed her gaze towards him, "I love you, Hattie. I know I've said it before countless times but it will never not be true. You and I, especially you, will definitely pull through this. Our son will be strong. He is your son and my son, no? Two of the strongest in Seabel, if I do say so myself." Harriet smiled in utter content, her free hand coming to rest on her swollen stomach, although she knew this pregnancy would be a long and tiresome one, the outcome would be worth it, that much was certain. “I love you all, so much” she sighed as her head once again falling back against the headboard as her eyes began to droop.

“Mama, you’re not going to die are you?” Cecily’s little voice asked. Harriet’s breath caught in her throat as tears prickled her eyes, she could barely bring herself to look at Cecily from the pain in her heart but once she did she saw a little’s girls anguish and frightful expression and that just broke her heart all over again. Releasing a shaky breath, Harriet mustered all the strength she could and lowered herself down so her head rested against the pillows and she was level with her children, praying that the sickness would not return. Bringing her hand up, her slender fingers brushed against Cecily’s rosy cheek as she smiled, “Who told you such nonsense, my darling?” Instantly feeling guilt at the words she had uttered before.

Cecily instantly looked back at Elizabeth, unbeknownst to the youngster giving away the culprit, Harriet’s lips pursed into a brief frown as Lizzie suck into her father’s side, “Why did you say that to your sister, Elizabeth?” Harriet watched as her daughters eyes began to waters, gazing at her with that big soulful look Charles often shot her when she was angry at him and it made them almost impossible to stay mad at. “I’m sorry mother but I didn’t mean to, honest I didn’t! Cessy asked me why I was crying and I said because I was scared you were dying.” Instantly Harriet’s anger withered away, replaced instead by disappointment in herself, “oh my darlings, I am so sorry I made you feel that way but I promise you I am not going anywhere soon. Besides I don’t think your poor father would be able to keep up with you on his own…” Harriet lazily smirked in jest as her eyes wondered up to her husband, “No, I’m definitely not going anywhere” she added just for him.

In truth this is what she needed, her family was her strength and around them she could feel her strength building, they were the light in her life, the most precious beings in her world and it truly pained her to see them so broken. Her mother was right, she was being selfish, for days all she could think about was her own pain and frustration, yet she did not spare a thought for the pain and suffering she was inflicting upon others, especially her children, they had been scared and left in a dark and for a brief moment Harriet couldn’t help but feel like a failure as a mother. Blinking back the tears, she smiled across at her beautiful family, hope flooding her heart, together they would get through this.

Harriet had sat by the window for quite some time marvelling at the wonderful day, the sun was bright and warm favouring that of a spring afternoon rather than mid autumn, but the cool nip of the wind indicated that winter would swiftly be upon them and that they should relish what time they had left in the sun. The rains would come soon, followed by the snows and the mere thought of the bitterness caused a shiver to travel down the Queen’s spine and instinctively she pulled her shall tighter around her shoulders. Her bed chambers weren’t cold by any means, her ladies kept the fire roaring throughout the day and night and yet there was a chill in her bones which Harriet could not shake. It wasn’t the sickness what caused it, that much she was certain of, for she was starting to feel a great deal better, but rather there was a feeling in the pit of her stomach which unnerved her greatly, apprehension was the closest thing it resembled. Harriet had a lot to be apprehensive about too, the Lancaster’s were perhaps her main concern however, she did not fear them in the conventional sense but rather feared what James rebellion would mean to her family, would Charles survive another war? Would she be forced into sanctuary with her daughters or worse sent to the tower to live out her days? The possibilities were endless and frightening, especially for a wife and mother.

Instinctively Harriet pressed her palm gently against the small swell of her stomach, her thoughts wondering to what this child’s life would be like. Although she wanted desperately to provide Charles with a male heir, she could not help her own desires for it to be a girl, at least for now when times were so unpredictable, when the throne of Kings was spattered with blood of its predecessors, fearing that her son’s blood would join the crimson stains also. A girl would be a lot safer until the Lancaster’s were defeated, she did not want to bring a son into a world, where he would be expected to avenge his father, should Charles fall, no parents weren’t suppose to bury their children.

Contradiction was evident in her thoughts, should her fears happen and Charles be defeated she should want revenge. The mere thought of someone taking her husband away from her filled Harriet with unbelievable sorrow and anger, she would surely wonder down the bloody path of revenge and she would not rest until James head sat upon a spike, so help her god she would see that task through. By her side, her free hand had clenched in a tight fist, her blue eyes cool as the steel of a blade, she was Harriet Rayleigh and to cross her or her family would be the last thing you ever did.

With a deep sigh her anger dissipated with the breath, her hand relaxing, there was no use in getting so worked up about things now, there was too many things to celebrate, this child growing inside her was one. Despite her fears Harriet was genuinely happy about this babe, as she had been for all her pregnancies, her family would grow by one and the prospect of watching another baby develop into a child ignited nearly unattainable excitement within the woman. Their first steps, their first words, the first time they would run into her arms and wrap their small arms around her so tightly, all the thoughts lulled Harriet into a sense of security and a smile graced her countenance as she thought about this future child and the hope it would instil within them all.

Suddenly her daughters little forms came into view in the garden’s bellow, both holding hands and followed closely by their nurse, this too brought a happy smile to Harriet’s lips, one which seemed to grow with every second she watched Lizzie and Cecily playing. A part of her had wanted to call down and tell them to come back inside out of the cold but she decided against it after a small inner debate, they would be inside for a while in a few weeks they both should cherish the last rays of the warm sun. Harriet continued watching for a few moments before the light knock at her door drew her attention away, “come in” she called looking over her shoulder to see George re-entering her room, he had left earlier to see to some business with their father but he had promised to return and keep her company once they were done.
“I must say sister, It is wonderful to see you in such high spirits” George commented with a genuine smile as he closed the door behind him. Harriet mimicked his smile as she walked towards her younger brother taking his larger hands in hers, “And I must say that you being here rises them even more,” she retorted with a small chuckle, “It was good of you to come, it puts me at ease to have my family around me, especially at such times.”

George nodded along to her words, he and Harriet had always shared a special bond, even from the beginning she had been the one who had looked out for him, protected him from Jonathon’s elder brother tactics and now it was his turn to repay the favour, “of course I came Hattie” he muttered redundantly, “you have me here for a while now so fear not, I won’t let that bastard anywhere near your family.”

Harriet smiled up at her brother, his words making her feel secure and safe, although she feared putting him in harm’s way also it was a comfort to know that he was so loyal to her and her family, he was one of the only people she could truly rely on asides from Charles. She was about to open her mouth to utter her words of gratitude when a high pitched shrill resounded from the gardens, caught off guard by the sudden noise, both she and George merely stared at the window for a moment until another scream, followed by a cry for help pushed them into movement. Gathering her skirts Harriet rushed to the window, George close on her heels, both peering out to see who had caused such a shrill, Harriet’s eyes soon found the source, it was the girls nurse hunched over a small form, Cecily clinging to her arm. Her eyes widened as she looked over the form lying on the ground and then realisation set in, the breath caught in Harriet throat as her heart sped rapidly, “Lizzie” she cried before hastily darting from the room.

Harriet moved as fast as she could along the corridors and down the steps, she wasn’t sure at what point George had over took her but within an instant he was in front of her. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as she ran down the stone corridor, her skirts hitched up to her ankles, she should not have been running in her condition but something had happened to Lizzie and she needed to be by her side.

As she reached the garden, she paused in the entrance as her knees became weakened at the sight before her. George had her eldest daughter propped up in his arms, her body limp showing no signs of consciousness; chocking on her tears she ran forward dropping to her knees immediately as she reached her daughter side, “Lizzie, darling” she called repeatedly gathering her in her arms and cradling her golden head against her chest, “what happened?” she snapped at the nurse.

The older woman looked towards the Queen with dread filled eyes, her own hands shaking almost as much as Harriet’s, “t-they were just playing and she-she collapsed.” Harriet listened to her words but did not acknowledge them, nor could she acknowledge Cecily’s cries, right now her main focus was on Elizabeth. Placing her hand upon her forehead, Harriet gasped as she felt the icy touch of her skin, turning to George with worry and anguish in her eyes, “she needs the physician.” George nodded and immediately took his young niece into his arms and made his back towards the palace, followed closely by Harriet. Upon passing the first servant she saw, Harriet grabbed the woman’s wrist sharply, “go fetch Ser Knaveil immediately!” The young woman nodded and hurried away, “George take her to her room, I must fetch Charles.”

Gathering her skirts once again, Harriet scurried along the corridor and upon reaching the throne room she pushed open the heavy doors with haste, the old bolts sending an echo to resound around the room, “Charles!” Her distressed voice carried across the large room with ease, he had need not looked at her long to see the distress in her features, “come quick, something has happened to Lizzie” Harriet explained quickly, her voice cracking with emotion as the severity of the situation played in her mind. Turning sharply on her heels, Harriet needn’t wait for Charles as she knew within a few quick steps he would have been by her side.

The sound of hurried steps behind her signalled Charles approach, casting her gaze backwards he had quickly and easily reached her despite her advantage, for a moment Harriet was transported back to the early days of their marriage, it was similar to those times she would run from him around their private chambers, clad simply in a bed sheet and sometimes even less, her laughter would fill the air as Charles always caught up, not that she put up much of a chase mind you. However this was different, the look on his face was a mixture of anguish, fury and utter despair and quite frankly it frightened her. She had not left him with much information and so his expression was understandable, yet there were no times for explanations their daughter needed them and that thought alone instilled a new wave of panic to set in.

Harriet had expected her husband to fall into stride beside her, he usually did and she wanted to feel his supportive arms around her, pull her close and whisper in her ear that everything would be alright. However, this was not meant to be, instead he had shoved past her with some force which made her stumble; luckily Harriet had managed to brace against the wall with one hand as the other placed protectively over her stomach. Once steadied Harriet stared after her husband, who was now rounding the corner which would take to down the corridor where Lizzie’s room was, she was certain that it had been an accident; Charles certainly would never mean to push her out of the way, especially when she was carrying his child, his heir.

Around her stood a sea of concerned faces, all glancing at her with the same expression, she seemed to glance at every single one, their concern and pity was too much for to bear, it was suffocating. Harriet’s nostrils flared as her chest raised heavily, one Lord dared approach her, only to be greeted by the sharp and dangerous tones of her voice, “I am fine!” Her voice carried louder than she had hoped shocking and startling all those who had heard and the man, to his credit, merely offered a quick bow before taking a step back. Harriet quickly regained her composure and carried on her way, her head held high as a Queen should, until she rounded the corner, then her whole world seemed to fall apart. From her position she could see her daughter’s room and the sight of the doorway made her freeze in her tracks, the air in her lungs suddenly becoming heavy and dense-she simply couldn’t find the breaths, she felt as if she were truly suffocating.

Just through that door lay her child, her darling baby, possibly on her deathbed. The thought was agonising, truly gut retching, she felt nauseous once again, the dread in the pit of her stomach causing it to churn violently. The Queen had no choice but to lean against the wall as she steadied herself, trying her best to calm her nerves and breathing for she was certain she would faint. Harriet’s eyes closed for a brief moment, hoping and praying that when she opened them all of this would have been a dream, a nightmare. She felt like a failure as a mother, Lizzie had been with her just that very morning and she had not noticed a change in her child, she had noted a slight raise in her temperature but she had put that down to spending the morning playing and nothing more. The thought haunted her now, had she taken the indicative to ask Lizzie whether or not she was feeling alright it may have not of escalated to this point and if anything happened to Lizzie she would never forgive herself.

The tears began to seep down Harriet’s pale cheeks as she thought of her child in that room, she needed to be with her and she certainly couldn’t wallow in her own self pity. Lifting her skirts up to her ankles, she ran the short distance into Lizzie’s room, stopping suddenly at the sight of her girl laid upon her bed, still unconscious, her skin turning a unsettling shade of ash. Her heart sank as her breath caught in her throat, before her she could see her whole life crumbling. Suddenly Harriet’s legs gave way beneath her and if it hadn’t of been for George’s quick response she would have surely hit the floor with a sickening thud. George held her steady as Harriet’s hands covered her mouth, a sob escaping her lips. For the first time in her life George’s presence only added to her suffocation and in her anguish she pushed her brother away, before stumbling towards her daughter’s bed and sat beside her.

Her hand immediately took Lizzie’s in her own as she placed a kiss against her child’s cool forehead, pulling back Harriet choked on her tears running her free hand through her child’s golden locks. “What is wrong with her?” Harriet asked the moment she found her voice. Looking up briefly her tear filled eyes caught Charles, she could not hold his gaze and within seconds she had torn hers away, it was simply too painful for Harriet to bear.

The physician sighed deeply as he looked between King and Queen, "I am afraid it is the sweating sickness" he explained in a solemn tone. "No, No, No" Harriet mumbled through a cracked voice, her head shaking as if she refused to acknowledge his words, his diagnosis was dire and bleak as realization sank in, there was no cure for this illness. Harriet's sobs became frequent and desperate, the tears clouding her vision. "Your grace, I must insist you leave the room, In your condition you are also susceptible to the sickness."

Harriet's eyes traveled up to the man stood opposite her, her teary hues narrowing, "If you even try and remove me from this room, any of you" She paused taking a second to glance towards Charles, George and then back to the physician with equally dangerous glares, "I swear to the lord it will be the last thing you do."

In all their years of marriage, Harriet had not once even come close to hating her husband, granted she called him every crude name under the sun when birthing their children, they even argued quite frequently about this and that but quite a lot of the time they argued just for the sake of arguing, but not once had her love for Charles ever wavered. Save for this moment, “she’s dying and you know she’s dying” he had uttered to her, but had not stopped there, “you are selfish enough to jeopardize not only your life, but the life of our unborn son.” Son, not child…son. That alone had been enough to cause an unsettling wave of anger to wash over the Queen, her jaw locked as her stinging eyes close, she would not wince at his words and she would not give him that satisfaction.

Perhaps Harriet could have let Charles have his moment of anger, any other day she would have probably brushed it off, watch him storm off and wait patiently until he came crawling back to her to whisper sweet words of ‘I’m sorry my love’ into her ear. Not today. How dare he stand there and call her the selfish one, how utterly dare he tell her their daughter was dying, how dare he care more for this unborn child. Harriet seethed, her body shook with the adrenaline of her anger, never in all her life had she felt more disgust and hatred for one person than she did in that moment and it was her own husband of all people.

For a moment Harriet could not even look at him or risk clawing at his face, but when she did summon the courage to look at him, her steel eyes had narrowed like a bird chasing its prey, her chest heaved slowly, her entire being exuberated hatred. “I’m the selfish one?” Her words began breathy and lowly, almost incredulous, “You spiteful bastard, how can you of all people stand there and me selfish?” Although Harriet’s never shouted her words, she need not raise her voice for them to have a lasting effect on Charles. “All you care about is getting an heir, not for me, not for the girls, we are but pawns in your game and disappointing ones at that.” Perhaps the most haunting aspect of her words was the calmness of her voice; it was steady and strong, not cracking once although her face twisted into an array of different emotions, anguish and devastation being the foremost.

Without another utterance, Harriet turned backed towards Lizzie and continued to stroke her golden hair, it felt like spun silk beneath her fingers and the mother couldn’t help but smiled as she ran the locks through her slender digits. Upon hearing Charles’ orders for her to leave, Harriet released a heavy sigh and lowered her head her eyes closing, but she remained defiant. “No.” Pausing for a moment, Harriet pressed her lips against her child’s cold cheek, once so warm and rosy, the comparison almost broke her and fresh tears fell from her stormy hues. With the back of her hand she wiped the salty tears from her flushed cheek, “Nothing you can say or do will make me leave. I am her mother and quite frankly I would rather die myself of the sickness than to leave her alone for even one second.”

Lowering herself down into a lying position, Harriet wrapped her arms around her dying daughter, “I want to die if Lizzie does. I’m sure I wouldn’t be too difficult to replace.” Her words were hurtful but Harriet didn’t care, she wanted to hurt Charles with every fibre of her being. They were probably words she would regret later, but right now none of that mattered, what mattered was her daughter. Pressing her lips hard against Lizzie’s head once again, she brought her lips together and began to hum the melody of her child’s favourite lullaby, the same one she use to sing to her as a baby, all the while she periodically placed kisses against her crown, her vision becoming increasingly blurred by tears.