After Christmas, everything seemed to amp up to the end of January trip to visit His Majesty. That brought stress to everyone, especially Mary. She took to talking with Charles about her anxieties, and they are many. He's her best friend, her caretaker, her warrior, her lover, her husband. She should be able to share these things, if not then what's the point of having a relationship? Because if she doesn't tell him, and they don't talk about things, then everything they built will start to fade.

But if they have loving communication, with each other combined with active listening, then their relationship will continue to thrive. This is really hard for her because growing up with a king and queen for parents taught her that people use your words against you. People use your feelings against you. You're taught to be perfect and she isn't perfect. Unfortunately, she learned this the hard way.

It started when her father sent her away to Ludlow, and kept her there. That castle, and the time spent there, really did a number on her mentally and emotionally. While banished, she had many thoughts running through her head. Some of the loudest ones were: Was I not princess enough? Was I not pretty enough? Was I not smart enough? Did I not behave as I ought? Was I not good enough? Was I not enough? And ultimately she found the answer to be yes.

For what other reason could there be? With that came feelings of being awkward and ugly, because shouldn't she have been married by now? Her self-esteem truly took major hits. So in her messed up, mixed up, self she adopted habits of perfection. Those habits started forming in the palace at a young age. But they really became a huge thing in the castle at Ludlow. And once you form habits that are so entrenched in your being, it's a fierce beast to get rid of.

Those habits are her dragons. Like from the tales of old, especially Gavin the Good and the Dreadful Dragon (her favorite as a child). Then there are the romantic stories of how the knights slay the dragons to win their lady love. All set in the time when dragons were real. But she knows that's a lie because dragons are real. Dragons are her deepest fears, her horrible habits, her mind messages, and her enemies. They guard those precious treasures. Except they aren't precious at all. They're evil.

The funny thing is in those tales the dragons are slain. They lay defeated. It gives hope and courage, those tales of bravery. In real life, real dragons are really hard foes to vanquish. It becomes easier to lull them into silence than it does to overcome them. Which is what she's been doing, singing them to sleep with politeness. Now that she has a life worth living and people worth fighting for, like her husband and her babies, she supposes it's time to try to beat them once and for all.

She told her husband all of this, a few days before Christmas. He begged her, literally, to trust him with her good and her bad. Then he told her about his own deep-rooted fears. Ultimately he fears not being loyal, not being faithful, and hurting her unintentionally. To which she reminded him he's done a great job so far. "You're very loyal, very faithful, and so very kind to me. I feel hurt for those women who aren't married to a man like you. It makes me love you all the more," she let him know.

And he let her know that for all of the deep-seated hurt she's been through "Darling you're doing a great job of opening yourself up to me. I see you. All the shades of you now. I know you more than I've known any woman. And I love you. All of you, every part and especially your heart."

Ever since the day they wed, Charles has been getting to know his wife. To understand her and how she thinks. He's been learning her because it's important to him. Now he has become a master in dealing with his wife and with her anxiety. He realized early on that because she's an overthinker her mind creates rabbit holes for rabbit holes, and she analyzes each of them. So he has to be very direct in his words.

After telling her to breathe, he has to prompt her that "When you worry you carry tomorrow's burden today." But she doesn't want to hear this, instead, she needs to get it all out. So he listens. Today he's listening to "Why can't my mother just stay with us? Why does she have to go back to the crummy, old, dreary, More?"

Because your father is an idiot, but he doesn't tell her that. Instead, he says "His Majesty was gracious to let her come here for Christmas. He doesn't want her influencing things."

Rolling her eyes up to Heaven, she declared "Well His Majesty is a nincompoop." He agrees. "And I'm unsettled about going back to Suffolk. I don't like the idea of moving every half year. It's not good for us, for either of our Duchys or for our children. We need to be stable in one place." Again he agrees.

"What do you propose we do about it, Darling? We have two territories to govern. I agree we need to be centralized. But they're far apart from each other and there's nothing we can do about that." He watched as her brain went to work. His own intelligence pales in comparison.

Coming to perch on his desk, smoothing out the embroidery of the skirt, she asked "What if we had someone govern in our stead? By proxy? We would still be the ultimate decision-makers, but this person would offer a presence there. At least until Owen grew of age. Since we decided Suffolk would go to him and Wales to William."

He knew she has something at work in that beautiful mind of hers. It's written on her face and her eyes. Staring at her, he needs to know "And who do you suggest we get to do this for us? It would have to be someone we trust and is capable of not running the Duchy into the ground. Also, what do you want to do about Lady Ashdown?"

Taking his hands, she brought them up to lips and kissed them. "Now hear me out, husband. I agree with you. The person we choose should be capable and have a mind for matters of state. That's why I think Anthony would be a fine choice."

Of all the people she could have suggested that was not the one he thought of. "Tony?" He eyed her and scoffed.

She gave him a look. "Don't turn up your nose Sir. Tony is more than capable, he just needs a little bit of help. He needs a wife. But besides that, he would be a fine choice. As for Lady Ashdown, I want her to come live with us here. I would like for her to be the twin's governess if she wants."

Tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair, he told her "I think she would probably want that. Most likely she misses us. Besides me fighting in the war, this is the longest I've been away from her."

So they decided to stay in Wales permanently, ask Anthony to be their proxy in Suffolk, and convince Lady Ashdown to come to stay with them as the twin's governess. But really she didn't have to, they just want her to be nearer to them. Once those items had been hashed out, they discussed London and how to present the babes. Before they went to sleep that night, the Duke and Duchess had a good plan.

The day before the Dowager Queen was set to leave Wales, she, Mary, Dot, and Catherine Willoughby had tea with the Dowager Countess. The twins stayed with their father. It was an uncomfortable carriage ride to Penarth. Mainly because of the interloper.

When the carriage arrived, Mr. Harris greeted them at once. The usually stuffy butler seemed to be a busy social butterfly on this occasion. He was all friendliness and smiles. Mary knew this has more to do with her mother's presence than anything. And when he served them tea, he served the Dowager Queen's first. He even poured it himself.

For her part, Lady Katherine accepted the tea with grace. She gave a huge compliment to the man. "This is some of the most expertly made tea I have ever tasted. How do you get it so well steeped Mr. Harris?"

Mary could have sworn Mr. Harris blushed under her mother's praise. She, however, turned her head to look at Lady Flora. The lady rolled her eyes at the butler. "Mr. Harris, would you please serve the crumpets, scones, and biscuits this century before they get cold and stale?"

Looking chastised, Mr. Harris backed slowly out of the room. He tripped over a footstool on his way out. Dot couldn't help it, she snorted a laugh. Mary nudged her with her elbow. The Dowager Countess shook her head at his bumbling, then turned her attention to Catherine Willoughby.

"I know all about these two ladies," she motioned to the Duchess and Dot. "But what can you do besides be wealthy?"

They could tell she felt put on the spot. Serves her right. "I'm a Jill of all trades. I can embroider, I've been told I can sing beautifully, a very good tennis player, a good horseman, and I draw." Naturally, she's good at everything Mary isn't.

Then the girl said, "I try to keep my head up in all situations even those that seem lost. I also hope I'm always friendly, so I try to kill people with kindness."

"Or with clichés. Have you enough of them to last you through the afternoon?" Lady Flora raised her glass in a toast to her. She gave Catherine a look. "Nobody is always friendly. It's impossible. For example, I knew a lovely girl who spent her time being jealous of another and forgot to live her own life. It was sad really." The Countess stared off in thought.

Intrigued Dot wanted to know more. "Well, what happened to her Lady Flora?"

Turning her head to look at Dot, the Countess told her "She got this horrible skin condition and turned into a bitter hag. The milk boy found her lying face down in her pottage one day. They couldn't tell the difference between her face and the pottage. But I like to say what was inside manifested itself in her appearance." Her eyes locked on the interloper's, who had the gumption to look humble.

Having not spoken a word, yet, the Dowager Queen looked amused. She knows what the aim of this meeting is, as both her daughter and the Countess told her. "That is tragic. What is more tragic is losing one's soul over petty jealousy." She sipped her tea.

Agreeing with Her Majesty, Flora added "Very true. I know another such lady who became so jealous over the marriage of the man she fancied. The lady took it upon herself to do unspeakable things to the wife. Why she made the woman look insane by gaslighting her. When the truth came out, which it always does, the lady was stoned to death. Jealousy serves no one."

Dot noticed the interloper had gone deathly silent at those words. "It seems a waste to be jealous. It does nothing but cause heartache, misery, death, and bad skin apparently." She picked up a biscuit and bit into it.

Also noticing Catherine Willoughby's silence and ashen-looking face, Mary stated "Stoning is so barbaric. My father prefers beheading. I think if something like what you mentioned Lady Flora were to happen in his kingdom, especially to someone he considered to be family, he would have no qualms about beheading the jealous gaslighter. Although I would hope the person in question would confess before it got to that. Confession is good for the soul and if it's good for the soul, then it's good for the body as well. So, no bad skin needed."

Not thinking, Dot swallowed all of her biscuit in one bite. Then she spoke up. "I have a confession." She turned and looked at Mary. "I confess that I was the one who ate your chocolate custard. I know I blamed the puppy, but it was me." She hid her face behind a pillow.

Mary huffed out a breath. "Dot!"

Behind the pillow, she stated "I know! I'm a horrible person!"

The Duchess could not believe her friend. "You blamed Duke and I yelled at him. Poor puppy. If you wanted some I would have given it to you."

Peaking out, Dot shook her head. "No. You wouldn't have. You love your custard and never share." She quickly put the soft obstruction in front of her face again.

Trying to take the pillow away, Mary tugged but Dot has a strong grip on it. "Seriously, I'm not going to stone you. You can come out, you know."

Slowly lowering her barricade, Dot asked "Do you forgive me?" Of course, Mary said yes. They laughed at the silliness of it all.

However, the Countess and the Queen were not laughing, for there are bigger fish to fry here than friends who ate a favorite custard. Queen Katherine gave the busybody, liar of a girl a searching look. "What about you Lady Catherine? Have you anything to confess?"

Trying to seem sure and sweet, Catherine wore a sugary smile. "I have no ill-will towards anyone," she announced.

"Oh my. It's a wonder your golden halo doesn't sag to the floor. It must be heavy like wearing a crown at all hours of the day," Lady Flora mentioned. She poured herself another cup of tea.

Dot and Mary tried to keep a straight face, while Her Majesty questioned the young girl again. "Surely there must be someone you've wronged?"

Before she could answer, which they could all tell was going to be another lie, the Countess spoke again. "Now before you say something to tarnish that golden halo of yours, let's cut to the chase shall we. Lady Catherine, you are a liar. Each of us in this room knows it was you who aided in the ambush of His Highness the Grand Duke." The girl was going to interrupt her, but Lady Flora held up her hand. "No. No. No tarnishing that halo Dear. I happen to know for a fact you did aid in it. Her Majesty would like you to know what the punishment is for traitors, should the Duke bring charges against you." She let Katherine take over.

Giving the girl a hard look, Her Majesty made her aware. "Young lady the penalty is severe. There are a number of things that could happen, none of which are pleasant. Should His Highness, the Duke, press charges you could be in prison for the rest of your life. You could be stoned to death. You could be beheaded, or drawn and quartered. But then you could be let go and bear the shame of your actions the rest of your life. No respectable gentleman would marry you. You will die an old maid."

Everyone saw the girl's face. She looks weak, very weak, and almost sickly. A shaky hand rose to her forehead, where she brushed a stray hair away. No one is the least bit sorry, especially Lady Flora who decided it was time to offer a solution. "We have a solution for you. You come clean and write your confession along with who you offered assistance to. After you do that, a carriage will take you away to Scotland where you will be wed to an older gentleman in want of a wife. He is without heirs and in his late forties. His name is Lord Lennox Campbell, Earl of Dundee. The man has already consented to wed you. The Duke and His wife have given their consent as well."

Then Mary finalized everything. "But if you do not confess, I will be going straight to my husband and telling him about you. I cannot stop what he would choose to do, because it would be just. My husband almost died. Did you know that? Did you know your conspiracy made him have a gash so big I could put four fingers inside it?"

The girl started to cry and this only incensed her further. "No! You do not get to cry or say you're sorry because you are not. So either do the right thing or face the punishment. You decide."

Lady Flora rang the bell. Mr. Harris entered the room all courtesy and bows to Her Majesty. The Countess told him "If I had known you would act like this I would have sent for Panibaker. Harris, bring the parchment and quill. We have a letter to write. Do make haste." Bowing to the ladies, he left the room in a hurry only to return with the aforementioned items.

Digging her eyes into the interloper's, the Countess wore an unamused expression. "There they are the instruments to save your halo and your neck."

Lady Catherine glanced at the writing-table and then at all of the ladies in the room. She stood on shaky legs and trudged over to the table. Sitting she began to write although with some difficulty, as her hand still shook. Not a word was uttered as the girl wrote whatever it is she was writing. When she finished, she gave the paper to the Countess.

Taking the note up, placing her reading spectacles on, Lady Flora commenced examination. Her stony face glanced at the girl as she handed the paper to Her Majesty. Everyone waited for the Queen to finish reading. She rose an elegant eyebrow at what was written. Feeling the weight of everyone's displeasure, Catherine Willoughby explained "I had no other choice. I was put in a dangerous position."

Having heard enough, the Countess took up her mantle of truth and righteous indignation. "I have heard enough absurd things in my lifetime. Please spare my remaining time on earth from idiocy. You, girl, are proof that a person cannot buy class. You are spoiled, selfish, ungrateful, and you should be thanking your lucky stars that you are not going to be drug in front of a magistrate. Or worse His Majesty, the King."

Not caring for the interloper's crocodile tears, she continued on. "Outside is a carriage. It will take you away to Scotland. Do not even think of running away. Several of my own knights are escorting you personally. As for your clothing, the items in Suffolk have already been shipped. The ones here in Wales will be sent on."

With tears, Catherine Willoughby left the room and boarded the carriage to Scotland. Her absence made Mary wonder "What did she write in the letter?" Her mother passed her the piece of paper, which she took in hand. Both she and Dot read it together. In the end, they both let out shocked gasps. "Is this true?" Mary can't believe it.

Of course, Lady Flora would know. "Believe it. When their backs are put up against the wall, traitors will turn on each other. They will name names as you see them written there. Truth can be just as shocking as lies."

Staring at the paper, Mary closed her eyes. Sometimes a harmful truth beats all the lies a person can invent. Even if it's unbelievable.