"Aunt Sibyl, tell me again, please, please tell me again, tell me about the princess and her champion."

Her niece was eight, and the apple of her eye. Coralie (named after her grandmother) Crawley was Matthew and Mary's daughter, eldest of two (with a third on the way), older sister to a charming but really very shy four-year-old boy (Robin).

Sibyl had ended up as a second mother to the children over the last few months, caring for them when Matthew was away on business, or when Mary was organising the house. She could see herself in Coralie, and was happy to encourage the girl's ideas of equality and hope.

Sibyl smiled, ruffling her hair. "Alright. But you have to be ready for bed – I'll go and get us some warm milk whilst you change, how about that?"

Coralie nodded, rushing to gather her night things as Sibyl slipped out of the room, going down to the kitchen.

The staff hadn't changed all that much, over the years – the Great War (hopefully the one that ended all wars) had been and gone, and miraculously Downton had been spared, on the whole. Thomas had never returned, but they still received letters (or rather, O'Brien did, and she could be persuaded to share them, softening as she had) and his replacement had been a sweet young lad who had worked hard.

Sibyl knew that she was young, but she felt so old, walking down into that kitchen.

Daisy beamed at her, bowing her head. "M'lady."

Sibyl waved a hand. "I've told you a thousand times, Daisy, there's no need to worry about that formality, not when it's just me." She paused. "I probably shouldn't be here anyway."

Daisy's guilty smile informed her that, no, actually, she shouldn't.

"I was going to fetch some warm milk. For Coralie – and myself, actually."

"Still having trouble sleeping, miss?" Daisy asked sadly.

Miss was probably the best she'd get out of the girl. "Yes, unfortunately - I'm not sure why, or what it is, but..." She trailed off, watching Daisy warm the milk on the stove. "She's a very sweet child."

Daisy nodded. "One of the sweetest I've known, miss."

Edith's rabble (the most frequent visitors to the abbey) were far from sweet – Sibyl privately wondered if it was because Edith hadn't married for love, but then it seemed that she had grown to love her husband. Edith herself had relaxed somewhat – she had five children (Violet, Alexander, George, Lillian and Amelia), and it seemed that in her opinion this meant she had bested both sisters, no longer having to worry about proving herself.

Maybe the children would get better with age. Violet, the eldest, seemed to be becoming more refined with age, and Alexander was emerging as the rightful heir to the Strallen fortune.

"Miss?"

"Sorry, I was miles away." Sibyl smiled kindly at Daisy, who had two cups of warm milk on a tray. "I'll take them, Daisy, really – "

"No, miss, I'll get into trouble if they see you carrying them and me loitering in the kitchen." Daisy insisted gently.

Sibyl nodded reluctantly, going on ahead and opening doors for Daisy before she could protest.

"Aunt Sibyl!" Coralie beamed, Mary's smile shining through. "Thank you, Daisy." She said politely, nodding at the maid.

"Yes, thank you." Sibyl smiled kindly, handing one cup to Coralie and taking one herself as she sat at the end of the girl's bed. "Would you like to stay for the story?"

Daisy shook her head. "There's work I need to do. But thank you, m'lady. M'ladies."

Coralie chuckled at that. "Goodnight, Daisy."

Daisy nodded, leaving them to it.

Sibyl smoothed the quilt next to her, sipping at her milk. "So. You wanted to hear the story of the princess and her champion."

Coralie nodded. "It's one of my favourites."

"Once upon a time, there was a princess –"

"What was her name?"

Sibyl had never bothered to name her before. "Why don't you give her a name?"

"She's beautiful. And she's smart. And she's..." Coralie tipped her head, trying to decide on the phrase. "Feisty."

"Yes." Sibyl smiled. "We should call her Coralie."

Coralie shook her head. "I don't want to be a princess, I want to be... A knight. Sibyl. We'll call her Sibyl."

Sybil smiled slightly. "How about Sibylia? Princess Sybilia."

Coralie made a face. "Alright."

"Once upon a time, there was a princess named Sibylia. She was a wise princess, who had strong ideas about the way that the kingdom should be run. Not everybody agreed with her about these things, but she knew that there were some who did."

Coralie nodded. "I want to hear about her champion."

"Be patient." Sybil smiled. "Now, around this time, there was a knight who had come to the kingdom to seek his fortune. He was not one of the famous knights, not well known, but he was a good man, honest and true. He had not come from riches, but he aspired to become more than he had come from."

"What was his name?"

Sybil paused. "You can choose."

"Sir Brandon."

Sybil couldn't help but smile at that. "Or possibly Branson?"

Coralie made a face. "That's not a first name. Brandon. I like Brandon."

"Very well. Sir Brandon aspired to be more than he had come from, and the moment he met the princess, he knew she felt the same. They would speak often, chatting of their hopes and dreams, for both the kingdom and themselves."

"How did they meet?"

"Princess Sybilia's father liked to have her escorted – he feared for her safety, and so he would make certain that there was always somebody with her, taking care of her."

"Sir Brandon was assigned to take care of her?"

Sybil nodded. "And he did an admirable job. They enjoyed spending time together, and became quite attached to one another. The princess was allowed to choose herself a champion, but it had to be one her father approved of, and the champion had to prove himself. Obviously, the princess wanted to select Sir Brandon, but her father wasn't certain, due to his lack of breeding."

"But he was still a knight! Surely that's enough?"

Sibyl shook her head. "In those days, there were knights who had earned their title, and knights who had received their title. Those who had received their title were richer, and thought of as better than those who had fought to earn their place."

"That's silly. The ones that work hardest should be the most revered."

Sibyl smiled at her niece. "I agree with you." She wondered, absently, if Mary and Matthew would approve of their eldest talking about equality, and respect for work where it is due. Then again, this was just a story...

"But rules are rules, and the king was old-fashioned. He liked Sir Brandon, but didn't want him to be Princess Sibylia's champion. Princess Sibylia, however, had other ideas."

Coralie grinned, looking at Sybil expectantly.

"Princess Sibylia and Sir Brandon went to seek out a dragon that was terrorising one of the villages – Sir Brandon was uncertain of the safety, and unwilling to go, but he did what his princess asked."

"Because he loved her." Coralie prompted.

Sibyl looked at her seriously. "Sir Brandon was a good knight, and he would have done his duty regardless. But... Yes. He did love her."

"Did he always love her? At first sight?"

Sibyl tipped her head. "I don't think so, personally. I don't believe in love at first sight."

"But he was her true love. Surely that means special circumstances."

Sibyl met her eyes – the young girl was wiser than her years, sometimes. "I never said that he was her true love."

"You didn't have to, he's devoted to her. He loves her more than he loves himself – go on, tell the next part, it's my favourite. Where the dashing Sir Brandon saves her."

Sibyl complied. "As they approached the dragon, Sir Brandon found himself standing in front of Princess Sibylia. Princess Sibylia had other ideas, though – she intended to speak kindly with the dragon, convince it to leave the village, so that they may live in harmony, in more reasoned times. The dragon was willing at first, but its mood began to turn, and soon it was filled with anger and rage, aimed at the princess. Sir Brandon didn't think twice, trying to get her away, but he was unable to alone. Luckily, a prince from one of the nearing kingdoms, promised to Princess Sibylia's sister, was nearby, and with his help Sir Brandon was able to defeat the dragon, although it was not without cost."

"He must have looked so noble, slaying the dragon – "

"No, he defeated the dragon, he did not slay it." Sybil corrected. "It would return, in time."

"But he would be able to slay it next time?"

"They would know what to do, next time. Sir Brandon intended to become an expert on dragons, so that he may know what could be done with them, and how they could be used to help everyone."

Coralie frowned with the scepticism only an eight-year-old can show. "Is that even possible?"

"There were many that doubted him, but he believed it was so. Princess Sybilia did, too – well, of course she did, or she wouldn't have been there that day, and tragedy would not have struck. A crowd had gathered, to watch the fight, and as it escalated Princess Sybilia was caught up in it – Sir Brandon and the prince had sent her back, in order to protect her from the dragon. Alas, people can be more dangerous than dragons, when they are frightened, and the princess was knocked to the ground. Sir Brandon ran to her, gathering her up in his arms, taking her to his horse so that he may get her back to the castle."

"Poor Princess Sibylia. What about the prince?"

"He rode alongside, adding to Sir Brandon's protection. When they returned to the castle, he was hailed as a hero, although Princess Sibylia knew the truth. The prince's betrothed had never prouder of him, and he was given great affection by the family. Princess Sibylia was taken in by the court physicians, who examined her and ensured that she would be alright. Sir Brandon was in grave danger."

"You haven't told me this part before."

"No?"

"No. You just finished it with him saving her, and her being alright. You never mentioned that he was in danger."

"The king was not happy with him, and wished to exile from the kingdom – but Princess Sibylia wouldn't let that happen. She refused to let her father send him away, telling him that if he did, she would follow him."

"Because she loved him."

"Yes. Because she loved him."

"Did they marry?"

Sibyl didn't respond for a while, looking down at her hands, flexing her fingers. "I haven't got to that part of the story yet." She said at last, looking at Coralie again. "The king allowed Sir Brandon to stay, and although he didn't approve, Princess Sybilia named Sir Brandon as her champion, and no other could come close to his place in her heart."

"So they did marry."

"They... They lived happily ever after." Sibyl finished the remains of her milk, stood and tucked her niece in, kissing her forehead.

"Uncle Tom will be home soon, won't he?"

Sibyl smiled sadly. "I hope so. But he has a lot of work to do – it isn't easy, working for the government. He has to spend a lot of time in London."

"It isn't easy for you."

"No."

"But you're not lonely?"

"Of course not, I have you."

Coralie smiled, looking at Sibyl's stomach. "And you have the baby."

"Yes. I have the baby." Sybil smiled.

She had skipped the part of the story where the knight had left to win his spurs (or, rather, to win his post in government), where he had begged the princess to wait for him and she had complied, for she could do nothing else. She had skipped the part where the great dragon had swept the knight up in his claws and taken him to a foreign shore where he had fought for his country and his life. She had skipped the knight that had returned, not as himself, but as another man – a wicked enchantment that had made the princess weep for many days and many nights as she fought to break the spell. She was not certain that the spell was entirely broken, that it ever would be (could be), but the knight was himself again, most of the time. She had skipped the section where, at long last, the knight had felt he was able to ask for the princess's hand, and the king had (admittedly with some reluctance) given his consent.

It wasn't happily ever after, but it was happy most days, and she knew she was happier with him than she would be with another. She returned to her room, pausing at the window to look out onto the drive.

He always insisted on driving himself.

She was not meant to run in her condition, which was exactly what he said to her as he swept her up into his arms when they encountered one another in the grand entrance.

"How long can you stay?"

"A week. I have work to do whilst I'm here, but I can spend the week with you." He kissed her gently, tenderly, his hand on her stomach. "With both of you."

"I love you." She said softly. "I was telling Coralie about Princess Sybilia and Sir Brandon this evening."

He raised his eyebrows, leading her up the stairs (helloes to everyone else could happen later; he had missed his wife). "Sir Brandon?"

"Apparently Branson doesn't sound like a first name."

"It isn't. What's wrong with Sir Tom?"

"She didn't suggest that." Sybil smiled. "You defeated dragons for me. For us."

"We both defeated dragons." He squeezed her shoulder. "I love you too, Sibyl Branson."