Chapter 25 #2
"Better," Alexandra said. She paused, and the pause was not hesitation but the careful selection of words by a woman who had learned, in eleven months of therapy and reflection, to name her feelings accurately instead of performing the ones that were expected.
"Not healed. I don't know if healed is the right word for losing your mother, for choosing to lose her, which is different and harder and more complicated than losing someone to death because with death you get to keep the good memories intact and with this you have to re-examine every good memory and ask yourself whether it was real.
But I'm clearer. The therapy has helped.
Understanding that what Cecilia did wasn't about me.
It was about her. Her ambitions, her fears, her rigid idea of what the monarchy should look like.
I was never the problem. I was just standing in the way of her version of the future. "
Erin's hand found the small of Alexandra's back. A small touch, barely visible, but the meaning was vast: I'm here. I hear you. You're doing brilliantly.
"And Cecilia?" Hunter asked. Hunter had the direct manner of someone who had spent her career in law and preferred clear information to diplomatic euphemisms. "What's the latest?"
"House arrest. Both of them, Cecilia and Arthur.
" Erin answered, her voice matter-of-fact.
"Their titles were formally stripped four months ago.
The Crown issued a public statement. Arthur's confined to a cottage in the Highlands with very limited communications.
Cecilia is at a property in Hampshire. Neither of them can leave without MI5 approval, and neither of them has visitors except legal counsel. "
"Criminal charges?" Charlotte said.
"Pending. The CPS is building the case. Latimer and the Duke of Ashworth have both been charged.
Helena Ward has pleaded guilty to conspiracy and is cooperating.
Officer Jennings is awaiting trial. The governess has been given immunity in exchange for testimony.
Arthur and Cecilia's case is more complex because of the constitutional implications, but Graves is confident it'll go to trial next spring. "
Julia looked up from her phone. "Public opinion has been overwhelmingly supportive.
The family walk through Kensington Palace Gardens was, well.
" A rare smile crossed her composed face.
"Two hundred thousand people lined the route.
Central London was gridlocked for an entire day.
The Metropolitan Police said it was the largest spontaneous public gathering since the Diamond Jubilee.
Social media broke several trending records.
The photographs of Florence waving from Erin's shoulders have become the most shared images in British royal history. "
"Florence waving from Erin's shoulders was not part of the plan," Alexandra said.
"Florence climbing onto Erin's shoulders was not part of the plan," Erin corrected.
"Florence climbing onto my shoulders and then waving at two hundred thousand people with a flag she'd stolen from a small child's hand, a child who didn't seem to mind, for the record, was entirely Florence's improvisation.
The security team nearly had a collective heart attack.
Mills said it was the first time in her career she'd seen a tactical team break formation because they were crying. "
"She's a natural," Vic said. "Gets it from Alex."
"She gets the climbing from you," Julia said.
A shriek from the stable yard interrupted them.
Frank had convinced Captain to trot and was now clinging to the saddle with both hands and one foot while the pony moved in a circle, Captain's expression suggesting he was deeply unimpressed by the whole business.
Matilda was watching from Bramble's back with her unicorn horn askew, offering commentary that was too quiet to hear from the fence but that was clearly making Frank furious.
Florence and Grace were still with Percy, Grace had progressed from stroking his nose to feeding him a carrot, and the expression on her face as the pony's soft lips took the carrot from her palm was both wonder and scientific curiosity that made Charlotte's eyes go bright with tears she blinked away.
"She loves it," Charlotte said quietly, watching Grace. "She won't say so, she doesn't say things like that yet, but look at her face. That's the face of a child who's having a good time and can't quite believe it."
"Give her time," Alexandra said. "She's found her people."
The afternoon deepened. The presents were opened: Florence received a new riding crop with her initials engraved on the handle, Frank received a football signed by the England women's captain, Matilda received a set of watercolours that she examined with the quiet rapture of an artist recognising professional materials, and Hyzenthlay received a first-edition Watership Down that Julia had found at an antiquarian bookshop in London, which made her eyes go wide and her hands tremble and produced the only speechless moment anyone had ever witnessed from Hyzenthlay Grey-Hughes-Wilding.
The cake was cut. Frank managed to get chocolate sponge in his hair, in his ear, and on Vic's shirt, which Vic pretended to be angry about for approximately three seconds before eating the evidence.
Matilda ate hers with a fork and a napkin on her lap, because Matilda.
Florence distributed slices to the grooms with the gracious efficiency of a future queen, making sure to ask each person if they had dietary requirements, a habit she had picked up from Julia.
Hyzenthlay declared the cake "nutritionally questionable but emotionally satisfying.
" And Grace ate two pieces and asked politely for a third, and the polite asking, the careful formality of it, the visible effort of a child who was still learning that wanting things was allowed, made Hunter turn away for a moment and press her knuckles against her mouth.
The children played. The ponies tolerated their decorations with the resigned patience of animals who had learned that children were loud and temporary and usually had carrots in their pockets.
The sound system continued its eclectic assault on the airwaves.
The sun moved across the sky and the shadows lengthened and the stable yard was full of light and noise and laughter and the particular chaos of children who were happy and safe and free to be exactly what they were.
Erin and Alexandra stood together, watching.
The sun was behind the stables now, casting long golden shadows across the yard.
The children were in the paddock, all five of them on ponies, Grace on Bramble behind Matilda because Bramble was the gentlest and Matilda was the steadiest rider and the combination had been Hyzenthlay's suggestion, which told you everything you needed to know about Hyzenthlay.
They were riding in a wide circle, the ponies' hooves quiet on the soft ground, the glitter catching the late light and sending small sparks of gold and silver into the air.
"Eleven months," Erin said quietly.
"Eleven months."
"It feels like a lifetime."
"It was a lifetime. A whole life ended and a new one started."
Erin put her arm around Alexandra's shoulders.
Alexandra leaned into her, the full weight of her body resting against Erin's side, and the trust in that lean, the willingness to let someone else hold you up, even for a moment, was the most beautiful thing Erin had ever seen from a woman who had been taught since birth that Queens stood alone.
"Happy?" Erin said.
Alexandra watched their children happily.
The ponies glittered. The sky was gold and blue and immense.
Charlotte was laughing at something Hunter had said.
Vic was threatening to ride Bramble herself.
Julia was on her phone. Audrey was sleeping in the sun, her old body stretched out on the warm cobblestones, her greying muzzle on her paws.
The castle rose behind them, grey and ancient and permanent, and inside its walls there were no enemies, no betrayals, no blue coats and Shalimar perfume and lies told to frightened children.
Inside its walls there was only love, imperfect, hard-won, fierce, and absolutely unbreakable.
"Yes," Alexandra said. "Completely."
She turned her face up to Erin and Erin kissed her, softly, gently, in front of the ponies and the children and the whole beautiful mess of their family, and the afternoon light held them all in gold, and the children laughed, and the story ended where all the best stories end: not with a crown or a crisis or a confrontation, but at home, with the people you love, in the place where you belong.