It was a beautiful day at Castle Abrams when Santana woke, she took her meal in high spirits and afterwards happily woke Brittany from her sleep. They exchanged their morning greetings as lovers, converting their conversation and actions to formal once the others arrived. Even Archibald greeted his queen with what could be mistaken for civility, though he was still in a foul mood about his escaped servant.

As they ate, Santana was able to warily observe the young girl that had replaced Tina; she seemed to have come from the same region or somewhere close by Santana's estimation. She was small, wide eyed, and seemed too young to have even reached womanhood, luckily for her the same thought seemed to have occurred to Archibald and he took no more interest in looking at her than he did his own wife.

In all, the morning was rather pleasant, which was probably why things went awry.

In a manner that reminded her of a time when the king was only a prince Lord Jacob burst through the doors, interrupting the calm of those eating. His appearance told Santana two things; that the unusual lord was clearly an errand boy for the council and that bad things were to come, because it seemed the royal's meal was never interrupted for good tidings. He shuffled to the far side of the table to speak to the king, but in the quiet of the room she was able to hear him easily.

"My lord, the north has sent a formal declaration of war," he said, his voice higher than usual.

The king stopped eating and gave the odd man a long stare before he sat back with a sigh, "We already assumed this would happen, so there must be more to this tale."

"Ah," he said, wringing his hands, "their formal declaration came in the form of shutting off our supply route. We will no longer receive supplies from them."

Archibald chuckled, "Is that what has you all so worried? What is it we get from them? Furs and unusual crafts?"

Santana's eyes went to Matthew, knowing he would have understood the implications immediately, and from the look on his face things had just gotten very bad.

Lord Jacob nodded, "Amongst other things, but, my lord, the furs are quite important."

"I believe we have plenty saved from last winter, am I correct?"

"Yes… but-"

"Then go and stop your worrying," he said with a wave of his hand, but the small man didn't move.

"Sir, the days grow shorter and as you know our position by the sea makes us vulnerable to cold," as he spoke everyone could see his words were falling on deaf ears.

Which was most likely why Matthew spoke up, "Majesty, pardon me for saying so, but I believe you may have forgotten that the castle has well over three times the inhabitants it once had, and those seeking safety from the potential fighting have begun to move from the border lands and into the village beyond the castle gates. If we do not receive supplies from the north most of the castle's inhabitants and its subjects will freeze to death."

The king's chewing slowed until he finished and swallowed thickly, "Can we not produce our own furs?"

Matthew seemed halfway tempted to scoff, "There are a few animals in the region that have suitable fur, but even if we killed every one of them I am quite sure we would still be short, not to mention, as a port town, hunting is not a skill cultivated by the average man. Especially since most viable game is property of the crown."

"Leave us, I will deal with this at council," he snapped at Jacob and Santana knew he only wished to be alone to pry answers from Matthew.

"But, my lord, the council is convening now," he said, pointing to the door as if all the councilmen could be seen waiting there.

"The trials of winter are at least a moon's turn away, I have time to finish my meal!"

"But I was sent to fetch you now-"

"Leave! I will join you shortly!" he shouted.

Jacob gave a curt nod and scurried out of the room, leaving silence to fall for a heartbeat before he rounded on Matthew.

"How do I fix this?" he asked bluntly.

The darker man shrugged and spread his hands, "Make the north your ally again."

"And how do I do that?" he spat, indignation lacing his words.

"I would suggest sending a peace emissary to talk to them, but at this point they may merely insult him and send him back."

"Are you trying to imply something?" the king asked dangerously.

"I already said what I meant, that your actions would have repercussions and these are they."

"What do you suggest I do to keep my castle alive?" he asked the question slowly, as if to try and focus the conversation to that one thing.

"Focus on heating, the barracks and the servants' sleeping quarters especially."

Archibald rolled his eyes, "Why am I wasting heat on servants?"

Matthew's eyebrow twitched, but he remained calm, "As they run the castle I would advise you to be sure they don't freeze to death. Unless your plan is to begin to do everything on your own?" when the king shook his head he continued, "It won't be perfect, but it should be enough to keep death at bay. We will need to group the servants up as much as possible instead of the four separate towers. And…" here he paused to give the king's new servant a side glance, "It would go far if the royal servants were to join the others for their sleeping arrangements."

Archibald looked to the girl in the corner and snorted, "Fine by me."

Santana glanced at Brittany and saw the displeasure on her face, but the queen didn't interject.

"I also suggest we reduce the number of servants working all at once and merely have them trade coats between them when out of their rooms. That way we should have enough for the soldiers who are on duty and furs to sell to those in the village who need them."

"Can we acquire more furs from nowhere else?"

Matthew sighed, "Your only remaining ally at the moment is officially the south, however, a delivery in the quantities we need would take months for them to even collect, and any goods transported here will more than likely be attacked. Furthermore, the south is not known for sturdy furs meant to last through the sort of winters we have."

"We are truly in a rough spot," he said thoughtfully.

"Agreed," the other man replied looking down on the king with disapproving eyes.

"I suppose I must go to meet the council then."

With that the king rose and walked solemnly to the door.

When he had fully left the room, Brittany set down her cutlery with a clang and frowned down at her food, Santana already knew what was troubling her.

"It wouldn't be permanent," she offered helpfully, "we would still see each other all day."

Brittany's jaw set in a grimace and for a moment Santana didn't know what to make of it, she wasn't sure if the queen was angry, plotting or both, but she really wished she could figure it out.

"M'lady?" she asked, wanting the blonde to talk to her.

"I already spend so little time with you privately and they seek to make it less," she said quietly.

"You will never lose me," Santana assured.

She sighed and stood, "I've lost my appetite."

"Where would you like to go?"

The queen paused and looked at the floor, "I don't know," she said softly.

Seeing sadness envelop her, Santana began to worry, "How about a ride?"

She shook her head, "Artie does not want me unattended on a horse as he deems them hateful, dangerous beasts."

"You will have me."

Brittany gave her a sad smile, "Yes, but he cannot know you rode with me, so he could never know I heeded his warning."

"A carriage then," she said suddenly, excited by her own idea, "A carriage ride through town, to get out of the castle."

Santana's spirits lifted as clearly the idea appealed to the queen, "I suppose that would be nice," she said with a smile.

The carriage was not completely covered, so their chances to touch were quite limited, however, the queen made due, holding Santana's hand closely between them as they rode. Those who saw them pass seemed amicable enough to her, though some shot dirty looks discreetly. Santana couldn't blame them since to those in poverty she was a spoiled royal who was out to watch the less fortunate wallow in their sorrows. And with the upcoming war she was sure their animosity ran deeper than that.

Slowly, they made their way through the winding streets, never venturing towards the outer area where the truly common folk lived. The sun was bright, belying the harshness of the oncoming winter and hardships soon to befall the areas it lit. In the sun Santana was drawn to stare at her queen, loving the look of her in the light.

Her attention to the other woman was what made her notice Brittany's hand rest on her belly for the barest moment, reminding her of the very thing she spent every waking moment trying to forget.

With a sigh she looked over at the tall wall that guarded the wealthy from the poor, "What will you do," she said, gaining Brittany's immediate attention, "if it's a girl?"

"Love her," she said with a half smile, "as much as I am allowed anyway."

"Royals are not allowed to love their children?"

"I can't show too much affection publically; not unless I want her reduced to a way to hurt me when his hands can't do enough damage."

Santana turned away, feeling an acute jealousy of the child with whom she would have to share Brittany's affections, while simultaneously feeling ashamed of that jealousy. And she couldn't help but wonder if at some point she wouldn't be needed anymore.

But as was her habit Brittany sensed her thoughts and pulled Santana's hand discreetly into her lap, "Don't think I would love you less, it could not and will not happen."

Santana looked away, embarrassed that she had been read so easily, "You don't know that," she replied, not knowing why she was pushing the issue.

"I do," the queen said in a tone that meant those were the final words on the matter.

Santana turned back to the open air and saw that they were quite a ways from the castle and, at the pace they were going, had some time before they got back. The privacy provided was not enough to spend their remaining time doing anything more intimate than hand holding, and it was frustrating, because the words that had been spoken to her made her want to hold her queen close and kiss her deeply before telling her all the ways she meant more than life itself. Instead, Santana gave the hand in hers a squeeze and glared at the edges of the carriage that came just past her waist.

Brittany looked at her with questioning eyes, but she only shook her head, "I merely wish it was my right to express my love for you wherever I pleased."

"I'll wager you don't wish it as much as I do," the queen replied with a grin.

With a huff of continued frustration she looked out at the observatory, sitting high in the sky, inevitably full of old men who were wealthier than anyone had a right to be, checking the stars to ensure more wealth would come their way. Irritated by the misuse of a perfectly good hiding spot she looked back inside the carriage, frowning slightly.

It had occurred to her that they could hide below the doors by lying on the seat and kissing until the ride was over since the driver was seated below them with a covered top. And they were high up enough from the ground that no casual observer would see them, however, it would be odd for the royal carriage to be seen trotting around the streets with no one visibly inside. The entire point of the outings was for the royals to appear to care about their subjects by riding amongst them and Santana was not fond of any plan that would make anyone think less of Brittany. She had not forgotten that her queen's life could fall into the hands of these people or their fellow citizens, so the more loved she was the better.

But then again, it was important that the royals appear to care…

It had been Santana's belief for some time that it was a tad unfair that Brittany always be the one to find a way to show her affection in public without anyone knowing. And if a slave at a council meeting could get away with it, why couldn't she?

With a sly smile she turned to Brittany and quietly asked, "If you could, would you have me now?" her voice dropped in a way that let the queen know exactly how she meant it.

Brittany laughed a little, "I always want to have you," and her voice held the same desire.

"Then I should get that," she said, casually pointing to the spotless floor before moving to retrieve the invisible item.

Confusion clouded the blonde's face, a look that surely changed after Santana dove under her dress, but the smaller woman couldn't see it. She merely focused on navigating the piles of fabric that kept her from her goal. Once she was able to trace her way up long slender legs to their juncture she pulled at her underclothes until the queen reluctantly lifted her hips.

From above she heard a muffled, "Santana, what are you-"

A smirk came over her the moment the queen's words halted in her throat from the sensation of Santana's tongue between her legs. It took no urging to get Brittany to slide further forward, the queen seemed quite eager to allow her better access. Santana moved slowly, savoring every taste and every tremor her movements caused. She could feel Brittany's breathing change from short pants to erratic very quickly, and purposefully pulled back, needing the moment to last longer.

"Remember to smile at your subjects," she advised from under the privacy of the dress.

She could hear a shaky laugh from above before she returned to her task and as soon as she resumed that laugh became a strangled gasp. With loving care she worked her queen to the very brink of release and slowed once again, feeling the frustration and yearning within the coiled muscles of her thighs and in the way Brittany subtly bucked against her. By taking possession of the hips before her, Santana took control of all movement. She drew the experience out, not just because it was exhilarating, erotic and gratifying, but because she didn't know when she would ever have the chance again. They may return to the castle to find that their living arrangements had already been changed, making these moments even more rare.

Santana teased until even she couldn't handle the strain anymore and finally had mercy on the quivering body beneath her fingers, her tongue easily working the queen towards her climax. And when she peaked the brunette had to hold her down as she almost threw Santana off her when her hips jutted forward. The only regret she had as she finished her task was that she couldn't see the expression her queen was wearing.

As if she had always known what she was doing she cleaned herself and Brittany before reappearing next to her, looking like nothing had happened.

It gave her a great sense of pride to see the satisfaction on her lover's flushed face; her eyes half lidded, almost all black, and a lazy smile sitting on her features. The light sheen of sweat, heavy breathing and her knuckles, white with the effort of keeping them on the carriage, the only other signs that anything had occurred.

"I couldn't find it," Santana said apologetically.

"I think you did," Brittany replied quickly, her breathing still irregular.

The look she was giving told her she had every intent of returning the favor to Santana at some point, but in the meantime she reclaimed her servant's hand, rubbing it gently with the pad of her thumb.

That was their only contact until they reached the castle gates and Santana wondered if Brittany knew how much it affected her, having achieved no release of her own.

The carriage returned them to the castle doors and when they exited the smaller woman couldn't contain a smirk as Brittany wobbled a little upon standing. After she found sure footing they made their way back into the castle and began to travel the long hall to the royal court when Santana felt an unpleasantly familiar tingle travel up her spine.

Turning, she found herself face to face with the very person she expected to find; Azimio.

"De council is still going," he said, and once again she squinted while trying to comprehend his words.

It was reminiscent of when she had first met Tina and Michael and had to ponder every word they said, but she supposed that was easier to get used to since they talked more often.

Brittany seemed to understand well enough as she nodded, "Alright, will we be sent for when it is done?"

"No court today," he said and for some reason turned to stare eerily at Santana, as if he was trying to work something out about her.

Taking a full step back, she turned to Brittany, "Where should we go then, m'lady?"

"I slept poorly last night, I supposed I will go to my room and rest until I am needed," she said simply and Santana had to fight a smile off her face.

Though the implications made her happy she did not like the look Azimio gave them as they walked away.

For Santana the number of incoming stresses were piling; Brittany's advancing pregnancy, their possible separation over the winter season, Azimio's odd and alarming behavior that seemed like it would only become worse. But she remembered to focus on the small, wonderful moments in life instead of the looming disasters, so when she got to spend all of her day in bed with her queen she gladly let everything else melt away.

The danger of being walked in on was extraordinarily high, especially with them waiting for someone to come and fetch Brittany, but she had blocked the door with a chair. It was something that would normally raise suspicion, but others would easily believe that their simple queen accidentally barred her door once in her life.

So they blocked the door and made the absolute most of their guaranteed seclusion.

Brittany returned the attention she was given on the carriage ride in full and then some, before Santana decided to flip things around and have the queen at her mercy once more. They stayed that way, lost in each other, until the day flowed away and they were both too tired to move.

Through the small breaks they had taken, Santana had wondered why they had yet to be summoned, but now that her rest was not merely a race to regain energy, she truly worried. Mustering strength she barely had, Santana stood and pulled on her clothes, helping Brittany to reluctantly do the same before brushing her golden hair back into a respectable style. Quickly she ran her fingers through her own hair, pulled it into a ponytail and unblocked the door, opening it slowly.

There was no one on the other side and it was a little unnerving.

Curious, Santana slipped into the servant's hall, looked through a window at the sky and saw that it was time for the royal's evening meal. A frown fell over Santana's face as she turned and hurried to fetch Brittany to usher her to the dining hall. However, when they arrived the food was ready, but the king was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Artie?" Brittany asked absently since she knew Santana didn't know.

"Council is not over," said a voice from behind them.

Santana turned with a jump, supremely irritated by Azimio's ability to enter and exit a room silently. And with a pang of fear she wondered if he had been lurking around the queen's door again. They were always quiet when they were together and the thick door and stone walls blocked sound well, however, the man seemed able to appear out of thin air, so she wasn't willing to make bets on what he could or could not hear.

"They are still in session?" Brittany asked, her eyebrows raised.

She wanted to ask if that bode well or not, but she dared not with Azimio still lingering so close.

"I was sent by Matthew," the large man added as if anyone had asked.

Both women frowned at the unsolicited information, "Well, thank you for delivering the message, you may go," the queen said.

Azimio only stood, staring blankly at them before he bowed and showed himself out.

"I do not like him," Santana said in a whisper in case the understeward still lurked nearby.

"I second that."

"Has the council ever gone this long before?" she asked.

"Once before when the king sovereign was proposing to turn the border territories into defense outposts, but even then they finished long before it became this late."

Santana nodded and would have replied, but at that moment the king stormed into the room looking quite livid. He was followed by Matthew who seemed disappointed again and the small girl who merely looked afraid.

The king threw himself into his chair without a word to his wife and when his food was presented he ate it quickly and stood to storm out.

"Is council over my lord?" Brittany asked him before he could march out the door.

She had asked so calmly Santana wondered if her voice had actually reached him all the way across the room, but then he spun towards her with rage in his eyes and it was clear it had.

"Of course it's out, you stupid bitch! Why do you think I'm already leaving?!" he shouted and continued to storm out.

The door slammed behind him leaving them all in silence, "That was uncalled for," the queen said, frowning.

"He is uncalled for," Santana mumbled.

The king was not heard from again as Brittany finished her meal, and afterwards, when she was taken to receive her bath it passed peacefully. Their interactions during were soft and loving, but nothing more intimate since both were still rather exhausted.

She sent her queen to bed with a final parting kiss and chuckled to herself when the woman fell right to sleep.

Santana took her own meal, talking with Puck while fighting off her own fatigue and deciding to save her own bath for the morning. Though the water would be much colder then, she was reluctant to rush in washing away the smell of Brittany that seemed to almost be engrained in her skin.

And when she went to bed, she thought that if there could be more days like the one she had just spent, it was completely worth her enslavement to stay. Those were her final lingering thoughts before sleep overtook her in a way it hadn't since she first became a lady in waiting.

The next morning started with Santana rising before the sun to finally bathe, eating her meal and hurrying to wake her queen to possibly have enough time to give her more than a brief kiss.

When she entered the room she was surprised to find the other woman already up and dressed, the sound of the door opening making Brittany jump. It was not in the queen's nature to wake up on her own so early so a frown of confusion clouded her face as she noted her love already at her dresser, a washbasin before her. Then she saw Brittany's face, and her world fell.

At some time in the night the king had paid a visit for the sole reason of taking out his frustration on her. It seemed that without anyone to answer to for Brittany's well being, he hadn't bothered hiding the marks he left.

Her face was bruised and her lip was split and still bleeding, though the queen had obviously gone through pains to hide that fact. She was wearing a dress that was unlaced since it was impossible for her to do so on her own, but Santana understood that it was to hide the mess he had made of her nightclothes.

Brittany tried to stand, favoring one leg over the other, as unaffectedly as possible, "It isn't as bad as it looks," she said, trying to smile, but it only made her lip bleed more.

Santana stood completely still except for the tremors of rage that made her physically shake with their force. She wanted to find Archibald and return every blow to him and then some, but Brittany took another step forward and stumbled, making her rage switch to sorrow as she rushed to Brittany's side.

The taller woman steadied with Santana's guiding hands, and up close she could see that the damage went down her neck and beneath her dress. With a desperate effort Santana tried to feel the anger once more, she needed it to block the sadness that was coming. But when Brittany hugged her and whispered, 'I'm okay' it was far too late.

She held her back, unable to stop from crying against her shoulder and feeling so very ashamed that she couldn't hold herself together as she hadn't been the one hurt.

It felt like she had, though, and it won out for the most acute pain ever felt since there was nothing she could do to make it better. She couldn't internalize or ignore it, because it wasn't her own, she could only watch Brittany suffer and do nothing to lessen the pain of the woman she loved so much.

"I'm sorry," Brittany muttered in her hair.

"Don't!" Santana cried out suddenly, "Don't apologize for him!"

She hugged the smaller woman tighter, "I wasn't, I'm sorry you had to see this."

Pulling back, she looked into the blue eyes that were bordered with darkening bruises, a small cut sitting above her left one, "Why would he even do this? I thought he had what he wanted from you."

"Last night he wanted someone to take his frustrations out on, though he was kind enough not to hit my belly."

Santana had to keep from cursing aloud, she actually would have preferred that, so the man would see the consequence of hurting the woman who carried the child he wanted so badly. The only reason she kept her words to herself was because she knew how sad it would make Brittany to lose the child and because it would probably mean even more brutal beatings with no restraints.

Besides all else, she was already so upset with herself for having slept so peacefully through the whole thing.

"Why didn't you ring for me? Afterwards? I would have taken care of you, I could have gotten Beiste."

"I didn't want you to see," she said again, her face still trying to seem upbeat despite the fact that without the washbasin her lip and the cut above her eye were bleeding rather badly again.

"Of course I would see!" Santana exclaimed, exasperated.

"I know but, I thought I could make it better before you got here," she said, looking at the floor.

Santana wanted to continue to complain, but the truth was she understood completely, because if she had walked into the room to find her lover freshly beaten and drenched in blood she might have done something quite foolish. As a matter of fact she hadn't seen that and she was still on the verge of deciding to kill Archibald on sight.

Instead of drawing the issue out she took Brittany by the hand and led her back to her dresser to clean her face again. She washed away the blood and cleaned the wounds with a tender touch, determined not to shed another tear in front of her. Once she was done she carefully removed the dress the queen wore given that blood and water had splattered on it and held her tongue when she saw that the king had used more than his hands as welts covered her arms and legs.

Keeping a stony silence, she went to fetch another dress and upon opening the doors of the expansive closet she saw Brittany's blood soaked nightclothes shoved into a corner. For a moment she broke and her eyes betrayed her, but she wiped away the one escaped tear and stood tall, squaring her shoulders and picking out something that didn't require as much lacing.

They said nothing more even as Beiste arrived to check the state of her pregnancy and repair the open wounds, and her servants covered the rest in fine powders, though Brittany still looked as though she had been in a fight.

It was so obvious that when they greeted the king in the morning Matthew seemed startled by the state of the queen's face and his new servant girl made the quick connection and fell several steps further back.

Brittany couldn't walk easily so they made it to the dining hall quite a bit later, and when she sat Santana moved to help her eat, not caring how it looked. She lifted the porridge to her mouth, feeding her, kneeling next to the queen's chair and resting her arm delicately on her stronger leg so her hand could rest atop Brittany's. Without a single care she soothingly rubbed her forearm and fed her, looking into her eyes to silently convey how loved she was.

Santana had no desire to even look at the other end of the table, but she could hear a steady rumbling mutter that sounded like Matthew's lecturing voice.

When the queen's meal was half done she heard the sound of Archibald snapping in irritation, apparently through hearing Matthew's reprimands. Shortly after was the sound of him rising from his seat, however, instead of hearing him march away his footsteps came closer. She tensed, as did Brittany, and she felt her lover take hold of her wrist, not to stop her caresses but to keep her in place, because she seemed to know what was running through Santana's mind.

Archibald approached and stopped an arm's length from where they were; Santana could not look at him without glaring, so she only stared at the pale hand grasping her tightly.

"I-" the king began and then paused to clear his throat, "I realize that my behavior last night was not in the best interest of my son and I do not want you to worry over it happening again. I am told that the mother's well being is as important as the child's, so I just want you to know that I am aware," he said as if it were physically painful for him to say that he had acted wrongly.

"I understand, my lord," Brittany replied, her voice held no sincerity or love, only a flat tone that told him nothing of what she really thought.

"I'm glad," he said, apparently feeling as if her words had been an acceptance of his non-apology. "I didn't mean to… ruling can be stressful and… I see now that hurting you didn't solve it."

Santana was back to being a tightly wound ball of rage.

What about all the other times he had hurt her before he had even been a ruler? And did these words apply to after the baby was born? Was this actually him sorry? Did he really feel his words were acceptable?

"I'm told the child still lives, so no permanent damage has been caused," she said in the same tone.

Santana ground her teeth at the words because it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Brittany had to play this role or risk more of the same. It wasn't fair that there was no one left to let the king know when he was out of line, that he was no man by any stretch of the imagination.

It wasn't fair that she had to kneel there and listen to the queen of her whole world make such a foolish person feel better about the wrong he had done.

"Good, well…" he stopped again and Santana was curious enough to glance up just enough to see he was looking Brittany over, "Maybe you should rest, in your room; at least until the swelling recedes."

"As you wish."

With that he walked away and Santana let out a tense breath, "Bastard," she grumbled.

Brittany only chuckled softly, "Indeed." The queen relaxed her grip and met her brown eyes easily, "May I have more porridge?"

She smiled up at her in amusement, because even if Brittany weren't a queen and she a slave she would never have to ask if Santana wanted to do something for her.

The day was spent as the king asked, with Brittany in her room resting quietly seeing as it was too difficult for her to do anything else. Beiste made another visit to check her health and to give her something for the pain. The brew the queen was given made her tired enough to fall asleep almost instantly, and the healer informed Santana that she would be unconscious for quite a while, but she stayed at the queen's side anyway. She stayed and watched over her, knowing that if the king set foot in the room it would be his last day on earth. Santana guarded her queen in her sleep, knowing Brittany would worry if she knew the thoughts in her head.

Through it all, even her willingness to throw her life away to keep Archibald from hitting her so much as one more time, she couldn't help feeling like a cheap imitation of a guardian. Because Brittany was a true knight, she was so much braver and stronger than Santana had the ability to be, she withstood anything to protect those she loved while playing a role she hated without so much as flinching. Santana knew she wouldn't have been able to withstand such a beating and then swallow such a sorry excuse for an apology the next day.

Even when she had been abused as a child those who hurt her never pretended it was anything more or less than what it was. This was a new, much harder form of imprisonment and she wasn't sure how long she could go on watching Brittany go through it without saying a word.

A/N: I have gotten a few PM's asking how Brittany avoided pregnancy for so long and then suddenly conceive. The easy answer is that it was time, conception is easier for some couples than others. In this case it is a combinations of factors, but the main one was the prince-later-king wasn't as fertile as he would have liked to have thought.