Page 57 of The English Queen

“I had this nanny,” Louis said. “I had never had a nanny like her named Melanie. She was British, actually, now that I think about it. Dad wanted us to learn English like a native. We’d had an American nanny before her, but she was cruel. We called her Mimi. She was old, yes, but so incredibly kind. Like a grandmother to us. I had a boy push me down at school and call me a pussy. It was fun. I was probably George’s age. I came home a mess. I told her what happened, and she asked me, ‘Louis, darling, do you need to have a cry?’ and I wasn’t sure what to say. If only because I feared she might hit me, you know? But she said, ‘Louis, it is okay if you need to have a cry’ and so I did. And it felt wonderful to finally get it out. But it occurs to me now it took me until puberty to actually have someone tell me it was okay to cry. Like… that is so incredibly fucked up.”

“Toxic masculinity is a powerful drug.”

“She was lovely. She took care of the younger children after I moved along. A few years ago, we were told she had died. I cried a lot. We had a lot of old nannies. I never cried for them. I did cry for her. She was so dear to us. Perhaps, more than I knew.”

“And now we’ve discovered your affliction for polite British ladies with cute little accents. Ha! Jokes on you because I am neither sweet nor patient.”

“You are sweet and impatient with adults. With children like Paul, you’re saintly. Your Mum took the piss, as you’d say, about his piano playing.”

Beth sighed. “Oh, poor dear boy. He is so darling for trying. He has no ear for it. He did not get Vanna’s musical talents. However, he tries so hard. I love to see it. Music can be excellent for people even if they are not good at it. It’s therapy for me. I hope Mummy never says something about his lack of innate talent. God, it would crush him. He is so proud to play.”

“He is sweet. Doesn’t know his own strength. Fiercely loyal to you. I relate to him a bit too much. He’s a good kid. I hate to hear anyone poke fun at a kid, you know? They can’t help it.”

“It kills me. People would talk about me not knowing I could hear them growing up. They would call me all sorts of things. I heard a woman at a party once when I was sixteen or seventeen and she made some sort of comment about me going from ugly duckling to swan.”

“Oof,” Louis groaned.

“Yeah. Because, you know, no one is awkward from the age of twelve to say eighteen—no one. Well, the other turns to her and says, ‘I thought she was mentally handicapped. Isn’t she?’ and I wanted to die. Because, even if I had a developmental disability, those words were unacceptable. Also, because why mention such things about a child?”

Louis looked appalled. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I got so used to people assuming I was gay as a post I gave up caring.”

“I have been called stupid, hideous, inbred, broken, a cripple, awful slurs, and you name it. The funny part is no one has ever called me a mistress, a whore, a slut, or anything like that. Because no one in France cared and—until recently—Britain had forgotten I was alive at all. And now, people tend to think of me as desirable because you find me to be. We are cute. People like us. But in my life, I have only ever been the defective princess. The inconsequential one no one can remember. And, when you put me next to someone like Vanora, yeah… it’s easy to see why. I understand what it’s like to have someone else write your story.”

“You weren’t any of those things, Beth,” Louis assured her. “And you glitter. You’re a fucking moonbeam of a human. Not that I would compare you with Vanna. You’re totally different people but you are your own thing.”

“You are sweet,” Beth admitted.

“I love you very much. I don’t know why I thought I needed to say it.” Louis shrugged. “I wanted to say it. Needed to.”

Beth patted his knee. “Understood. It’s okay. I’m glad you see me for the moonbeam I am rather than a broken satellite crashed to Earth.”

The Christmas Circuit

Beth was drafted into travelling what she would call the “Christmas Circuit” after returning from a smash Nobels appearance on behalf of mostly Belgium this time. She travelled around the entire little country. Belgium was only an eighth the size of the UK. However, it had so many beautiful, untouched Cathedrals and organs she was busy for days. She loved playing and had no complaints. People flocked to hear an organ played. Normally, they would have laughed and run. Het Laatste Nieuws declared Beth had, “Made the Organ Sexy Again.” She was certain there was no way that was possible, but she gave them credit for trying.

Louis was stuck dealing with a government shutdown as Beth travelled playing Christmas Music and met with other organists, choirs of children, and members of clergy. Louis was slated to join her in Wallonia at Tour de Lierre for a few days. However, word came this plan had been put on hold. Apparently, the government was about to explode like Chernobyl and there was no way he could get away. Louis rang her and apologised. She was free to take a break in Wallonia herself or she could come to him in Brussels. Either choice was fine with him. He wouldn’t be offended.

Given how exhausted Beth was, she chose to spend a few days in Wallonia working on the wedding march—nearly finished—and eating and drinking in peace while watching snow fall on the gardens. It was good for her soul. She missed Louis, but knew she’d never see him if she returned to Brussels. She’d only resent how much time she waited around to see him when he didn’t have time to waste. Beth agreed to join Louis at Mons early Monday, both well-rested and ready to go.

Unfortunately, a bad situation was made worse by a cabinet minister having a heart attack. A tour of two schools and a cathedral did not outshine Louis’s main role as head of state. Beth was sad. She now missed her fiancé like anything and felt she may never see him again. She texted Vanna.

This sucks. How do you manage?

Vanna replied to her shortly after Beth’s explanation came across her radar.

You get used to being disappointed. You learn not to take it personally. You focus on being the person managing the most visible parts and, when you have kids, you focus on them having stability. I learned that from your dad. It is the best advice I’ve ever gotten.

Beth took it to heart. She’d have to do the walkabouts on her own. Or, so she thought. As she was climbing into the car to head to Mons, she was notified the Dowager Queen would be joining her on her walkabout and was nearby. Louis had sent her not knowing if she’d make it. Beth and Elise were not close, but it was better to have company after being on the road for ages. Elise seemed flattered to aid Louis in a time of crisis and was in good spirits. In the end, Beth took it as a bonding experience and tried to make it clear how much she appreciated Elise’s coming out.

The press gave weight to rumours of how Elise did not approve of Louis’s choice of wife and that the two women butted heads. Beth never responded to them. Yes, sometimes Elise would throw a fit or complain about Beth’s wild personality. She seemed downright jealous in the way many mothers-in-law were when their sons married. Beth did not understand, but Maggie was the same way since Robbie’s marriage to Vanna. Beth neither listened to Elise’s opinions nor cared about them. She tried to take Elise’s advice about the job when she could. They were peers. Elise may have disagreed, but Beth was staunchly in the camp of coexistence. They did not need to be besties. This day proved it. It also probably put some rumours to bed.

“His Majesty did send a note, Your Royal Highness,” the escorting staffer passed it to her between engagements. “Again, he apologises.”

“It’s alright. It’s… the job,” Beth took the note.

“He always writes to you,” Elise shook her head. “It is so unusual.”

“It is. I love it.” Beth cracked the seal.

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