"I do not know him. He is not mine and never will be. I suggest, Beatrix, which you rid of him now, or you shall never see your children again. That is a promise I tend to keep."
Her husband's words were like needles piercing her skin violently. How could a man ever be so ruthless? Beatrix's body went numb to the core at his words; her face pale as the skies that streamed outside the windows. Her children meant the world to her; all she had ever dreamed as a child was to be the best mother there ever was, and to be told she would never see them again? It was a complete heartbreak. She lifted the back of her hand to her face, forcing the tears from leaving her eyes; she will not show weakness. All that the brunette could do was storm out of the room with not a word spoken to her husband. Her maids called out her name softly, but it meant nothing. Everything meant nothing to her at the moment, but her children.
Beatrix made into her bedroom with a slamming of the door; having slamming it so roughly, her bedside table shook. The tears were inevitable now. She pressed her head against the painted walls, sobbing incoherently in pain and sorrow. Her heart wrenched and turned violently in her chest at the thought of never seeing her children. Lanky fingers gripped between her breasts in a tight fist, her nails digging into her palm. There was so much that she had wanted to say in the moment, but thought not. There was no sense in adding fuel to the flames and making matters worse. Her mouth ajar to scream, but no sound left her lips; just the sound of more sobs heaving from her chest.
Moments later after releasing her pain out on everything, Beatrix was finally calm. Her heart still turned in her chest, but there was nothing she could do about it. She sat against her window sill gazing off into the field where the sun danced upon its grassy plains. "Mother! Mother! Look at what Alice did," one of her daughter's shouted as they all flowed through the door. Her eldest daughter held up a piece of parchment that was colored on with a bunch of stick figures. Beatrix's face lit up, a weak smile perking up at the corner of her lips. It was difficult to fight back the tears now, but it was no use. She laughed shortly as she clasped her hands together. "It's beautiful, my loves," she breathed, wiping a handkerchief to her eyes.
All four of her daughters rushed to her side in giggles, jumping and sitting around where she was, shoving the picture in her face in pure excitement. A child's laughter was the best sound to any being's ears. Their giggles stopped abruptly, frowns replacing smiles. "Mother, why are you crying? You should not cry." Young Alice stretched up to swipe her tiny thumb under Beatrix's eye to rid the tears. Shaking her head, Beatrix caged her children in a loving embrace, hugging them tightly not wanting to let them go. She let go kissing each of their small heads, smiling weakly at them. "I am sorry, my loves, but Mommy must go for now. Go find grandmother; ask her for one of her fairytales."
The afternoon creped along quickly as Beatrix sat numbly in the carriage. Her hair was not done pretty as it usually was, nor was she wearing one of her frilly dresses imported from Paris. No, this was not an occasion to celebrate; it was one to mourn. Strands of frizzled hair poked out at different angles from poor treatment that it was given, and the dress she wore was one that she had worn the day before, wrinkled and worn out it was.
The carriage came to a halt as they reached destination, and her heart sank deep into the pit of her stomach. The small boy in which was her son squirmed within her arms. Beatrix bended her head down, running her index down his face cooing in a whisper, forcing one last smile to her lips. "Momma loves you. Momma always loves you." A cold breeze swept in as the carriage door opened, and she was helped out into the deserted back road. Across from where she stood along with her most favored maid and her friend were the people who were going to take her son.
Smile no more. That was long gone from now. The distance and the time it took for her to cross over felt like a century; if only it had been. The grey haired man greeted her with a bow of courtesy, but there was smile to his face either. This trade was no more delightful to him than it was to her. "Your Grace. I am General Sydney." Tristan had been nowhere to be found. The general could sense what Beatrix was eager for, and her meagerly shook his head in response, knowing what she wanted an answer to. "Your husband has arranged this according. I apologize, Your Grace," he said bowing again.
Beatrix pursued her lips in a thin line giving one nod unstable now. She then turned to look down at her son. His brown hues started up into her soft ones making her weak in the knees. She pressed one last kiss to his tiny fist, taking in a deep breath as the General beckoned a woman to come over. Beatrix longingly looked at the woman not wanting to hand her son over, but there was no other choice. Gradually she had handed her son over, arms shaking violently as she did. Not a second thought was given for those people to turn and leave.
"General," Beatrix said softly, voice cracked, "His name is Elias." The General nodded and proceed to the carriages. Cries echoed from those carriages as the horses trotted into the distance. Her friend rushed over to her side to stable her balance, but Beatrix only leaned into not being able to stand anymore, her breathing getting the best of her. Her chest felt like it was caving in on her heart; there seemed no more reason to breathe at this moment.
Nothing was more heart wrenching than having your child taken away from you.