Chapter Sixty

Ruth was shaking all over. That didn't usually happen. She wasn't good at public speaking and didn't enjoy it at all, but she usually just got a little flustered and tongue-tied. She hadn't experienced nerves like this before. But then again, this wasn't just any sort of public speaking, some speech written for her by the palace staff for her to give in front of a small crowd.

This was her father's eulogy.

And if that weren't enough, Ruth writing the speech herself and having to bare her soul and her love for her father in front of the whole country—royal funerals were televised—poor Ruth had swallowed down rage in the worst possible way. She had gotten to be with Harry and the girls in the car, which was helpful. But when they arrived at the church, Juliet had already arrived.

In some ways, Ruth sometimes felt bad for Juliet. For all that she had manipulated herself into being Uncle Edmund's bride, the two of them really had cared for each other. Juliet wanted to be queen, of course, but Ruth was quite certain that Juliet had genuinely loved her husband. And losing him so quickly and so unexpectedly like that was an awful thing. And then, in the midst of that grief, she was forced to move out of the palace that she had just turned into her home and had to restart her life in another place with a new staff and without her husband. And she had been very helpful in the royal duties, both before and after Edmund became king. Ruth was able to be a wife and mother for the few short years she'd had the privilege because Juliet carried so much of that royal burden that would have otherwise been Ruth's.

But all that aside, Juliet was a mean-hearted woman. Ruth had never forgiven her for the way she treated Harry all those years ago. Harry wasn't blameless, of course, but Ruth also knew that Harry had grown and changed since that time. Juliet, it seemed, had not. She seemed to delight in being manipulative and greedy and cruel. So long as she was the center of attention and adored by the public, she would do whatever she had to in order to get what she wanted.

Today, that took the form of snide comments to Ruth. On the day of her beloved father's funeral, Juliet had decided to say the most unspeakable things. Her words rattled around in Ruth's head still. And likely would until the day she died.

"Are you certain you'll be up to it, Ruth? You're looking paler than usual with those bloodshot eyes and dark circles. I would have thought you had a staff to make sure you looked alright for a public appearance. But I suppose there's only so much makeup can cover. And it wouldn't help with the speech, would it? A pity for us all, I think, that you'll bumble through this like you do with everything else. Your father deserves better than that, though he was never supposed to be king anyway, so maybe a bumbling eulogy is fitting. I suppose it's a good thing that those fat children of yours are too young to remember whatever embarrassment you cause them today."

Ruth had been so shocked at the venomous words spoken with Juliet's usual breezy and oblivious tone to do anything about it. But Ruth had never been able to form words in reaction to anything. Her mind worked quickly, but her mouth did not.

Harry, however, did not have the same problem. He was carrying Charlotte in his arms and leaned in close to Juliet and hissed, just loud enough for Ruth to hear, "You vile cow, how dare you speak to your queen that way? You don't have to like her or even respect her, but you will respect her position and treat her accordingly. And you are bloody lucky that there's a crowd and I'm with my children, or I would kill you right now with my bare hands."

Juliet did not take his threat to heart. She only chuckled and kissed his cheek. "Oh Harry, let's not forget that I am still a queen, regardless of whose head the crown sits on. And you are an army major knighted by my father-in-law just because you were too much of a coward to get killed in battle."

It was at that point, when Harry was getting red-faced with fury and nearly ready to give Charlotte to Ruth so he could make good on his threat to Juliet, that Ruth ushered them inside. Thankfully Malcolm and Jo were right there to move things along.

"Please, Harry, not today," Ruth said softly. "This is my father's funeral. Let her be the only one creating additional misery. We don't have to talk to her afterwards. I just want to get through this and go home." At that point, she was already almost in tears. Juliet's words had been so awful that Ruth just wished she could go back to bed and curl up with her husband and her children and never hear 'Your Majesty' directed at her again.

But that wasn't an option. Not in the least. She held Emilia's pudgy little hand in hers—she was a four-year-old child and not fat, no matter what Juliet said—and Harry had Charlotte with him to keep him from making too much of a scene. Their little family followed an usher to the front pews of the church. Graham and Catherine were already in the second row. Juliet was put on the other side of the aisle. The family purposefully did not look in her direction.

Ruth did her best to keep calm, but she was more nervous to give her eulogy than she ever imagined. She'd written the whole thing through her tears. She hoped she would not start crying while trying to speak. And really, it wasn't saying the words that mattered to her. Writing them had been a very cathartic experience.

Grief had followed Ruth these past years, and it seemed to catch up with her now. It hit her in waves. Sometimes she was fine, and sometimes she was so desperate to speak to her father and ask his advice about something that the ache in her heart was almost enough to tear her apart.

Harry had been wonderful, as always, eager to hold her while she cried or calm her down. But he was often at a loss of how to help her. Ruth didn't know herself, which was starting to create strain between them. She was so busy and so sad all the time. She barely got to see her daughters for an hour each day, and even less than that time when they were awake. And other than crawling into bed beside Harry each night, she felt as though she'd not seen much of him either. Not really. And he was starting to get bored just waiting to be given something to do.

As the bishop spoke through the funeral service, Ruth's mind wandered away from the pain of the funeral as she remembered what Juliet said to Harry about him being an army major and a knight. He was royal consort to the queen now. Surely he needed a better title than that? She'd talk to Jo and see what they could do. If she was at Leister, she knew exactly what book she'd get from the library to look into the issue. Actually, perhaps she could ask if someone could retrieve the book for her. Or, rather, there was probably a copy in the palace somewhere. Maybe she could escape duty for a little while and spend some time in the royal library and figure it out herself.

It was nearly time for the eulogy, but Ruth's mind was still on Harry. She glanced over at him, sitting on the other side of their daughters. As subtly as she could manage, she reached behind where Charlotte and Emmy were sitting up straight like good little princesses, and Ruth brushed her fingers over Harry's hand. His lips twitched into something of a smile at her touch, and he turned his hand to clasp hers and give her a comforting squeeze.

The bishop introduced Queen Louisa to give the eulogy to King James. Ruth felt her whole body tremble as she held her notes in one hand and had to let go of Harry with the other. She did her best to walk up to the pulpit without making her terror so obvious. And when she looked out upon the crowd of people and the television cameras watching her, Ruth's entire mind went blank. Numb, in fact. She had not one single thought in her head. But she looked down at her notes and she began to speak.

Did her voice shake? Did she mix up words and trip over her tongue? She honestly didn't know. She read her speech and had no idea how it went. She couldn't quite process it. And when she got to the end, she gave a respectful nod to the bishop and went to sit back down.

Harry caught her eye, and she was confused and amazed by the look on his face. It was a look of love and affection and absolute awe. She couldn't understand it at all.

It wasn't until the funeral was over and they went out to the graveside that Harry took her hand and whispered in her ear, "You did a wonderful job, darling. More than fitting for a queen. And I'm very proud of you."

Ruth nearly started crying again at that.

Harry kissed her cheek and whispered again, "I love you very much."

For the first time in what felt like a long time, despite being at her father's graveside, Ruth smiled.