Page 23 of The English Queen

“I am so, so sorry to hear about this, Princess. You certainly could have mentioned it. Is there a reason you haven’t?”

“I couldn’t tell anyone,” Beth sniffled in French.

“Everything the two of you tell me is said in confidence,” the Cardinal said. “You can tell me anything you need.”

“Thank you,” Beth said. “I also did not want you to think ill of me.”

“I would not. That is a heavy diagnosis for a family–especially yours. This came as a great surprise?”

“We had lived through her breast cancer before, but she was cured. She’ll only have about a year to live–for a positive estimate–after our wedding. It came out of nowhere. This brain cancer has been making her irrational. She has these terrible headaches. And now… now, I’m panicking even more. Everything feels bigger. All of this feels so important. I must do ten years’ worth of things in eighteen months. She’ll never meet our children. It feels so heavy. I’ve missed so much now. I’m guilty because I was gone from court so long. I am selfish and—”

“I’m going to stop you there, bolleke,” Louis insisted. “Oh, my love, don’t be ashamed. Guilt is normal but… don’t let it eat you alive. Everything you did for yourself and by yourself made you the person you are today. And no one–your mother included–would change you. I am certain.”

“Your fiancé is right, Bethany. Guilt is a normal thing for many people, but you cannot blame yourself. You can’t try to fit everything into this time. I have found when counselling those about to pass and those with ailing family that no matter how much time you have, it won’t be enough. Indeed, if one of you died tomorrow, would it be enough? It would not. We must live our best lives on earth, do our best, and hope it will be good enough. We have to make peace about it.”

“I am so sad. It feels unreal.”

“It will. It will. One thing that may give you respite is you will have a lot of time to come to terms with this. It will be hard no matter what, but you have this time to see your mother and be in her life.”

“I don’t have it, though. I live here. I cannot merely stay in England and live there.”

“Yes, but you can visit, mijn liefste. We will visit. And we have the wedding. This is a happy thing for the family. We can soak it up. We can make sure it is a priority to see your mother. I cannot visit every time, but I will try to make it work.”

“People will claim we aren’t working enough—”

“Please stop worrying about ‘people’. It is a losing game. Who are these people? Who are they?”

“The public. Subjects. Normies. Commoners. Whatever you want to call them, Louis!”

“The public would be downright cruel to expect you to work like a dog through this, Bethany. They gave me grace after Papa died. And that is what you should expect,” Louis said.

“Robbie is expected to suck it up,” Beth switched to English.

“The English are different. You people are relentless. Bethany, do you think I don’t know my own people? They like you. You are a darling now. You have all the capital in the world to spend–even more when we have children. You’re considered the saving grace of the line of succession. People won’t judge you for taking care of your dying mother.”

“I agree with the King,” the cardinal said. “I cannot speak for your country. If what you say is accurate, it cruel and lacks any Christian compassion. What would be shameful is not taking care of your family at this time. I have heard what you two think about family and values at the beginning of this conversation. You listed the following–trust, loyalty, compassion, egalitarianism, humility, understanding. These aren’t represented in a person who would neglect their dying family member. I think it would be contrary to everything the two of you espouse, yes?”

Beth shrugged. “Yes, I suppose.”

Louis dabbed Beth’s tears in this tender and surprisingly not-quite-private moment.

“Beth, you can’t do it all. Trust me. She will decline and you will struggle with that new realisation. You will not regret the time you spend. Your father will need the support of all of you after your mother passes. I am aware. Our situation isn’t the same as it was when I lost my father, but you did everything to love and support me–and my family, too. I will never ask you to ignore your family. That is cruel.”

Beth was surprised by his impassioned declaration. She’d expect this in writing but not openly like this.

“Would it help if we said a prayer?” the cardinal asked.

Beth nodded. She was not a religious person, but she’d take whatever good, peaceful energy she could rally at this time. She took the time to breathe and pull herself together. After the kind prayer, the cardinal departed, noting the conversation was more productive than the one he had scheduled. They’d reconvene later.

As he slipped out, Louis said, “I love you, Beth, but it will never be enough time. One of the greatest regrets I hold to this day is my father never knew about you. It would have brought him peace to know you were a possibility, Beth. Could I have predicted you’d marry me? Nah. I never thought I would get this lucky. And he will never meet our kids, either. It makes me sad, but there is nothing I can control about it. He couldn’t hold on. He declined so fast. It was like he wasn’t with us. There is a chance your mom may make it long enough to meet our kids. It could happen.”

“My mum… she claims sometimes she worried she didn’t wait long enough to have my brothers. But she and Pa got right down to it because her mother was on borrowed time–cancer. Now I know what she means,” Beth said.

“We can consider it, Beth.”

“The thing is… pregnancy with my diagnosis is complicated. I will need to manage my medication well and perhaps adjust my medications. And I could have more seizures because body chemistry changes. So, if we go that route, I need to start preparing. We can’t merely say ‘let’s give it a go’ and let it happen.”

Louis agreed, “Whatever keeps you healthy. My point is no matter what we do, it will never be enough. Do what feels best. It will never be perfectly right.”

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