“What thing?”
“I dunno. Just play something I’d like.”
“Okay,” Beth agreed, “I will play you something you like. I love you. Go to sleep.”
She hung up and did exactly what Louis predicted. She spent most of the next day doing the same. In the evening, she finally got to see her mother who arrived back at the Palace. Maggie was weak, but feisty as ever. Beth put herself to bed early on the couch in her mother’s sitting room. She slept across from her mother’s couch. It was as if she couldn’t bother leaving her side. Beth assumed no matter how old she got, she longed for some form of maternal comfort. She realised it would be ending before too long. No matter how silly it felt, Beth soaked it up.
The next morning, Beth woke to the sound of her parents talking and the smell of tea. She sat up and stretched, staring at her father in the chair between the two couches. His imposing figure was visible in the glare of the sun streaming in the windows. Her eyes slowly adjusted, and he handed her something from the table.
“Bug, Papa brought us breakfast,” Maggie said.
“And a courier brought you this,” Keir added.
“Along with the flowers over on the table. Marvellous roses.”
“How on Earth does he do it?” Beth scoffed, picking up the letter.
It was signed with Louis’s seal and on his official stationery.
“I was tempted to read it,” Keir joked.
“You best not ever read it. Well, if what Sabine tells me of his notes is correct. It would make your hair curl, I’d suspect.”
“Ah, I doubt it would frighten me all that much, Magpie. I used to write to you, too.”
“Yes, well, those were apparently chaste in comparison.” Maggie chuckled as she took a sip of her tea.
Beth didn’t comment. She read on, ignoring her parents as they debated the merits of Louis’s writing.
Koning Bethany,
I thought I would do that to try it out. And since you are pretending to be queen, it seemed fair. How does it feel?
Beth laughed at the salutation. Koning Bethany. Queen Bethany. What a terribly odd phrase!
“See, it’s cheeky!” Maggie declared.
Beth shook her head. “Oh, it’s not… yet anyhow.”
I wrote this for you after we got off of the phone. How I love you, mijn liefste. I will come see you as soon as I can. Nothing could keep me from it. I miss you so much. The season is hard, but it will somehow improve. I don’t know how but it just… does.
I hope your mother is well. I hope she is picking fights with every last person soon. I hope it brings you a chuckle or at least peace.
“He wishes you well, Mummy,” Beth explained.
As for your frustrations as of late, I cannot do much other than to assure you of two things. One, you may ask for whatever your heart desires the next time I see you. Although, I think that’s pretty much a given these days. Two, I promise to not talk dirty to you in Dutch as long as we live. Well, I will do my absolute best not to. Have I? I’m unsure. I’m not responsible for anything that happens after the point of no return. Or whatever I say when you blow me. Don’t hold it against me. However, I will not intentionally inflict you with any filthy Dutch phrases in bed. After all, you are so impressionable. I wouldn’t want to ruin you for the rest of the world.
Beth smiled and giggled at his promise. It was true, he never talked dirty to her in Dutch. He hadn’t done it in French, either. They mostly carried on in hurried, desperate, filthy English. Beth never thought about it before. No matter what, every time they fucked, Louis had to do the mental work of communicating in English. She knew if she spoke better Dutch, it would be easier on Louis. How could she unburden him in other ways? Well, she could ask him to stop constantly translating.
“What, bug?” Keir wondered.
Beth picked up a piece of bacon. “Nothing. I am not repeating it.”
“As I told you. Best not to ever ask, darling,” Maggie told her husband.
?????
“It is simply idiotic for you to go back to Britain for two days. Have her come home,” Elise declared, face drawn into a scowl.