May, 1617

Spring had returned to the Frankish court, and with it, the rumor mill found fresh gossip to grind. One, that the King was finally close to deciding on a new bride, though no one could pinpoint exactly who their new queen might be; and two, that the Duke of Lonnare had someone very special to present to the court on his arrival. This someone special was not simply his wife, a princess of the blood and the King's own niece, though Alys was always welcomed back to court with open arms. No, this return was more notable for the fact that it would be the first time young William Charles would be joining his parents in the capital, to be officially presented to his great-uncle. The court was eager to get their first look at the scion of the Beauforte line; even Dame Beatrice Beauforte, the child's great-grandmother and quietly despised grandmother of Charles himself, had made her way back to court to meet her son's grandson.

Their son was still too young to understand the politics of court or what his and his parents' place was in it, but Charles knew this visit wasn't just about presenting their young son to the king, but to the entire court and country as a whole. It was no secret that Charles adored his son and was proud him, even as young as the boy still was. Charles and Alys were proving to be good parents, careful in the upbringing of their son, who was proving to be a bright, happy, outgoing child. As proud as Charles was of his boy, he had delayed presenting him to court as long as he could out of fear that Beatrice might try to get her claws into him. Blood relative or not, that was something Charles was simply not going to allow.

"Well, then, my bonny gentlemen," Alys said, gently straightening little William's collar with a smile. "Are we ready to face the funniest king in the world and his circus of sillies?" She had made a distinct effort not to let their two-year-old son know quite how dangerous the politics of the court could be, hoping he would only see the pretty colors and smiles on this visit. The toddler grinned at her, gripping Charles' collar tightly in one little fist.

Charles was confident his son would charm the king and his court, but his grandmother was another matter. Still, he was no longer the boy he had once been, but a man and a duke in his own right, and she would do well to give him the respect he deserved. "I am not sure Christian would appreciate to hear you had given him such a title, my love," Charles remarked quietly, though in truth, it was not Christian who worried him. "But I think he will be pleased with our presentation," he added, turning to regard their young son with a fond smile. "Are you ready, Will?" he asked his son with feigned solemnity.

Though the boy might not understand everything his parents were telling him, he nodded his head enthusiastically before wrapping his arms around his father's neck.

For once, however, Alys was not concerned about Dame Beatrice. With her own mother away from court, she was the highest ranked female here, and Charles' grandmother knew it. Offending her grandson's wife when that wife also happened to be a princess of the blood and very popular with her uncle the King was not a wise course of action for an old woman on shaky ground in the first place. Still, little Will's response to his father's query made her smile, gently stroking her fingers over the boy's tousled curls for a moment. "Then we had best get to the audience chamber," she suggested, "before your Uncle Will gets sent out to find us with a big net so we can't get away."

"Now, that I'd like to see," Charles said with a smirk. The thought of William trying to catch the three of them and hold them captive was amusing but highly unlikely. Still, she was right. They couldn't hide from the king and his court forever. This was part of who they were, and Charles was proud of the position he'd earned on his own merits. "Shall we, love?" he asked, offering an arm, their son held in the other.

"He'd cheat." Alys giggled, wrapping her arm through his. It wasn't the accepted way of entering the King's presence, nor even the accepted method of declaring your allegiance through marriage, to hold on so affectionately, but she didn't care. She and Charles had been through hell to get married in the first place; she intended to make it abundantly clear to every former conquest of his in that audience chamber that he was hers. Drawing in a breath, she nodded, drawing her husband toward the antechamber where official visitors were asked to wait on the King's pleasure.

"You're right," Charles remarked with a grin, knowing Will would not be above cheating anymore than would Charles, using every possible loophole to their advantage. Though he was now a duke, Charles had never been very interested in decorum, that much was certain. He had challenged the accepted rules and protocol of court at almost every turn, even going so far as to practically kidnap his bride, though she had been a willing enough participant - and Will had helped. It was almost as if Charles' entire life had been built on rebellion, and yet, he was a favorite of the king, having proved his loyalty and courage beyond a doubt. It was probably humbling as far as his grandmother was concerned, and yet, perhaps she would at last grant him his due.

The antechamber was half-full - ambassadors, official messengers, nobles seeking specific favors - but the herald's face lit up as the Duke and Duchess of Lonnare came into sight. "Your Grace," he bowed to them both. "The King has ordered that you be admitted without delay. If you would come this way?" He gestured toward the double doors, nodding to the footmen on either side.

Alys bit down an inappropriate grin. Trust her uncle not to have the patience to make them wait; he really wanted to see his newest godson.

It didn't surprise Charles very much that they were being ushered through to the king as soon as they'd arrived. He wouldn't have expected any less, guessing how anxious Christian was to meet young William, the newest addition to his bloodline. He offered a polite bow of his head to the herald, mirroring Alys' attempt to keep the smirk from his face. Meanwhile, Will made a swipe with one hand for the herald's head-wear before Charles caught his son's hand with an amused chuckle and a murmured apology.

The herald snorted with laughter, one hand going protectively to his feathered hat as he offered the small boy a grin for his opportunism. He then stepped in ahead of them, banging his staff against the floor for attention. "Their Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Lonnare, and their son, Lord William Beauforte!"

Smiling widely at her son's cheeky attempt to grab the grand feather, Alys moved into the audience chamber at Charles' side, feeling the familiar thrill of all eyes on her as curtsies and bows were dropped all around them.

Christian sat on his receiving throne, a wide grin on his own face as he watched the stately approach of his closest friend and his niece, his expression warming at the sight of the bonny boy in Charles' arms. At his side, Alys' brother William was leaning on the back of the throne comfortably, his own face split in a warm grin for his friend and sister.

It was the feather young William had been going for, and Charles found himself almost wishing the boy had been successful in his attempt to snag it. That certainly would have given the court something to talk about. Protocol be as it may, Charles' approach was a little less than stately, with Alys at his side and their son squirming in his arms in an attempt to escape and explore, not unlike his father at that age. "Your Majesty," Charles started, trying his best to hide the smirk that was tugging at his lips. "May I have your leave to let His Lordship down before he wiggles his way out of my arms?"

There were no complaints from the smaller William, who seemed to be enjoying both the feather and the bounce he was getting on the king's knee.

"She has been fortunate in that," Charles replied, knowing that sometimes love came from arranged marriages, but as for himself, he'd never wanted anyone but Alys, despite his reputation as a rogue.

"It is possible to begin in love, pass through hate, and find friendship on the other side," the little boy's namesake commented.

Alys tilted her head back to look at her older brother, a softer smile touching her face. It was good to hear him say that; perhaps his troubles with Ursula were finally finding a conclusion.

"And perhaps find love again," Charles said, looking between his beloved and her brother, who had always been like a brother to him. He hoped he and Alys would not follow William's path, and more importantly, he hoped he never gave Alys any reason to detest him.

"Perhaps," Will answered with a half-shrug. To be honest, he was just happy Ursula was talking to him like a human being again. He and the boys were able to spend more time with her now she was being reasonable. Not that he would ever express that opinion to his sister; Alys had gone out of her way to point out how unreasonable he had been over the last few years.

"Love, sadly, is a rare commodity in kings," Christian sighed exaggeratedly.

Charles was not going to judge his friend for his faults when he knew he had plenty faults of his own. "Perhaps you will be more fortunate next time," Charles said hopefully, regarding the king, but not wanting to assume too much. They had heard rumors that Christian might marry again, but they had yet to hear anything official.

"Perhaps, if the Goddess is kind," the King agreed with a flicker of his familiar smile. "It is good to have you both back at court. You have no idea how dull this place can be when my favorite people are miles away."

Behind Alys, Will snorted indignantly. "I've apparently lost my appeal."

"Apparently," Charles replied with a mischievous grin, a little too eager to agree with his friend, and only too happy to taunt him with a little teasing of his own. "But then, you must admit that your sister's face is a far more pleasant sight than yours," he teased further.

Will scoffed, reaching down to pat Alys' cheek. She bit his finger gently for his trouble. "I am far sweeter to look at than she is," he insisted, shaking his hand with a grin. "And less dangerous, too."

Alys laughed fondly. "You're just jealous because you have to shave every few days and I don't."

Charles snorted at his wife's remark. "I, for one, do not envy women," he said, knowing a little of what they went through for men. It wasn't just the fussing and the primping, but the physical difficulties of being a woman, including pregnancy and childbirth. No, he was perfectly happy and content to be a man, even if it meant shouldering the responsibilities that came with it.

"Yes, we have to put up with men," Alys countered teasingly. "It's such a hardship."

"And of course, you are a little outnumbered in this family," Will added in amusement. "Maybe this time Ursula will produce a girl." By the look of things, he'd been holding onto this information for a while - Christian's jaw dropped in astonishment.

Alys surged up out of her seat to throw her arms around her brother. "That's wonderful news," she enthused. "She must be so pleased."

Charles flashed a grin, happy for his friend, whether he had a son or a daughter this time around. "Congratulations," he told him, reaching across the space that separated them to grasp his friend's hand. His gaze darted briefly to Alys, looking almost as if he was about to burst with news of their own, but he remained silent.

Drawing back from her brother as her two favorite men clasped hands, Alys' blue eyes met Charles' with impish mischief that echoed his impatience. But here and now was definitely not the time, not when their visit to court was supposed to be about presenting their firstborn to his godfather.

Christian let out a loud laugh. "Well, I'll be," he declared, slapping the arm of his throne. "Well done, Will!"

Not to mention the fact that they didn't want to spoil Will's moment by sharing news of their own. There was plenty of time to do that later and it would be better done in private. Charles was genuinely happy for his friend, but happy for another more personal reason, as well. And if Christian was to marry again, it was possible they might all have children close together in age. "It's good to know you haven't forgotten how," he teased his friend further.

"With all the practicing he does, that should be impossible for him to forget," Alys pointed out, one brow raised.

Her brother had the decency to look just a little abashed at having his infidelity called out, but he didn't take offense. "Well, my boys are old enough not to interrupt any more," he informed his sister back again. "You're probably used to just getting started when a little voice asks to join you in bed."

"We manage just fine, don't we, love?" Charles put in, with a knowing smile for Alys. He reached over to link his fingers with hers. "I have no complaints." From the expression on his face, it was obvious that he was still as besotted with her as ever. There was little fear of him taking a mistress, so long as she still loved him.

"I think we do more than manage," Alys laughed, lifting his hand to kiss his knuckles tenderly.

"Good grief, you're still smitten with each other," Will complained cheerfully. "I knew I should have challenged you to a duel when I found the pair of you cuddled up in that cave. Made you earn her, maybe."

"I earned her when I gave her my heart," Charles replied, in a soft voice, his words not meant to go farther than their little circle. Yes, he was still smitten with her, and he never wanted that feeling to end, no matter how many children they had or how many years passed.

"Good Goddess, you two are nauseating," Christian informed them affectionately. "Just as well you brought me this little chap to get to know better. My court is filling up with couples who adore each other."

Will snorted with laughter. "And you love it," he responded to his uncle in a friendly tone.

"Are you forgetting all the times we argued with each other?" Charles pointed out. There had been times when he'd thought Alys hated him, but all that was in the past now and forgotten - her first marriage and all his little indiscretions; it was almost as if they had never happened.

"Are you forgetting that it was blatantly obvious to everyone but the pair of you that this marriage was an inevitability?" Christian countered with a grin. "I envy you your happiness."

"And can he not speak?" the old woman demanded. "Have you taught him no manners?"

Alys' eyes flattened. "He is two years old and has more manners than you, madam."

Even if Charles had known what the woman was thinking, he would not have defended their decision to honor Alys' brother by giving their son his name. He didn't owe her anything; she had hardly raised a finger to raise him, and he felt more connected to Christian's family than to this woman who was his father's mother and who had always disapproved of him, since birth, it seemed. His eyes flashed a warning at her question, but it was Alys who answered for them both. "Careful, Grandmother," he warned her simply.

Dame Beatrice drew herself up, but Alys got there first. "Since this is clearly an unpleasant duty, madam, I suggest we get it over with so you may retire to your country-house and your personal affairs sooner rather than later," she said briskly, more than happy to pull the princess card on the old biddy. "Dame Beatrice, your great-grandson. William, this is your great-grandmother. Just nod, sweetheart, that's all you have to do."

William was most likely their only hope of charming the woman and melting her heart of ice, but it was unlikely. She had shunned Charles and his mother after her son's death, and there was no reason to think she would warm to him or his little family now, except perhaps to manipulate him into increasing her already generous stipend. But little William knew none of these things and though he was shy, he was also curious, extending a chubby arm to offer the woman the feather he had so coveted, almost as if it was a peace offering.

It was her chance to show them she had something left to endear herself even slightly to them. Unfortunately, Dame Beatrice had never been at home with children. She snorted derisively at the offering of the feather, not seeming to appreciate how much it meant to the little boy. "Typical," she said ungraciously. "A mute idiot to continue my bloodline. What else should I have expected when his mother is a -"

"Watch your mouth, madam," a dark voice said from behind the couple.

Alys gasped; that was her own father's voice. Duke Edward Marillier was glaring at the dame from Charles' shoulder. Dame Beatrice paled abruptly, snapping her mouth shut.

She was fortunate that Alys' father had chosen that moment to intervene, as Charles' face, flushed with rage, had gone stone cold. His jaw clenched tightly, words of rebuttal dying on his lips as little Will's face crumpled as he started to cry, somehow seeming to sense the tension that surrounded him.

"All my life, you have never shown me a shred of kindness, not even when I was as young as this. Too young to understand why my only remaining blood relative should hate me with such vehemence. Even when my mother was lying on her deathbed, you could show us no kindness, no compassion, no sympathy. All you have ever cared about is yourself. Well, hear this and hear it well. As of this moment, you are dead to me, do you hear" Don't worry ....I will continue to support you, so long as you breathe, because of my father, but you are never to speak to me, my wife, or my son again, is that clear?"

The elderly woman stared at him, utterly shocked to hear her grandson speak her with such force. All his life, she had looked down on him, simply because of who his mother had been; even as an adult, he had never been able to please her. But he'd never spoken back to her, not until today, and this was the cut direct. Everyone at court would know within minutes that Dame Beatrice Beauforte had been disavowed by the Duke of Lonnare in defense of his little family; her reputation, such as it was, was destroyed because of her inability to hold her tongue. And no one truly cared.

Alys glared coldly at the woman for a moment, touching Charles' arm. "Why don't you and Father take Will out into the gardens?" she suggested. "Dame Beatrice will require some help to set her affairs in order to leave the court."

Little Will was still crying, his face buried against his father's neck, sensing the tension in both him and his mother. Something was wrong, but he didn't know what. Charles was simmering. All his life, he'd held his tongue; all his life, he'd suffered her insults and her hatred silently, but no more. It wasn't for his sake that he had finally banished her from his life, but for that of his wife and child. He might have born her insults for the remainder of her years, but he could not and would not allow her to insult those he loved, simply because he loved them. He clenched his jaw, glaring at the old woman before him.

"Farewell, Grandmother. I hope you are proud of the choices you've made." And with that said, he turned on a heel to join his father-in-law in the gardens.

Edward walked with him, offering a reassuring nod to the King as they slipped from view. "Now then, young William, what?s all this?" he asked, gently chucking at the little chin. "No smile for your grandfather today' What about your grandfather's dogs?" He smiled encouragingly to the child, letting out a low whistle, and his ever-present pair of hunting dogs wound their way between the legs of those in the gardens to reach them, sniffing curiously at the little boy they'd met before a few times.

"Hush, lad, it's all right," Charles whispered, rubbing his son's back a moment before brushing the tears from his face. "Look, there. The dogs want to see you," he said, going down on a knee so that the boy could get a better look at Edward's companions. "Thank you," he murmured his thanks up at the man, while the boy smile and batted a chubby hand at the dog closest him.

"I remember what it was like trying to console you and Will when you got into scrapes not much older than he is now," Edward chuckled gently. "Nothing worked better than the dogs. Like father, like son, I see." As he spoke, he squeezed Charles' shoulder firmly, silently offering the man his support for what had just happened, even as the dogs licked at little Will's fingers.

It was not so long ago that Charles didn't remember. This man - his wife's father - had been more a father to him than his own, who had died before he'd been born. It was Alys' family who'd taken him in after his mother's death and raised him like their own, when his own flesh and blood had rejected him. "I will never forget what you did for me," he said, drawing comfort from the man's grip of his shoulder and remembering that family went deeper than mere blood.

Edward smiled at the younger man - his son's best friend, his daughter's husband. "I couldn't allow you to be abandoned the way you were," he said simply. "You may not be my son by blood, but you are as much a part of our family as anyone. And that raging old harpy should be getting a sharp lesson in just why you do not upset the women of this bloodline around about now."

"There was a time when I hated her," said Charles, frowning as he contemplated what had just happened. "Now, I only feel sorry for her." He didn't regret what he'd just said to his grandmother - he deserved it and had earned it - but he wished somehow things could have been different.

"Don't waste your wishes on her, Charles," Edward told him quietly. "She cares nothing for you, or your family. She cares only for the distinction of rank, and her own petty belief in pure blood. But you are one of the most noble men I have ever known, pure-blooded or not."

"Relieved," Edward answered for his daughter firmly. "That woman has been a blight on this court for too long. You will have made few enemies with your actions today, Charles. Beatrice Beauforte is a snake."

Charles winced, not even liking the fact that she shared his name, but there wasn't much he could do about that. She wasn't going to live forever, and while he might have liked to have made peace with her before that happened, it didn't seem likely. "I do not know what would have become of me if it hadn't been for your generosity, my lord," he admitted, though it wasn't the first time he was saying that.

Edward chuckled, shaking his head. "I wasn't the only man prepared to take you in, Charles," he told his son-in-law gently. "Your father was a good man, and your mother loved him. For his sake, and hers, you had many friends at court, even before you could speak your own name."

"Perhaps, but I am grateful it was you," Charles told him, in a rare moment of gratitude. Despite everything, he really had few regrets - except perhaps for a dalliance or two, but he'd been young and foolish and broken-hearted over Alys' first marriage.

"As am I," Edward admitted, bending to sweep little Will up into his arms. "And now, young man, I believe we should find your grandmother and you should charm her into insensibility before she hits me with a broom."

Alys snorted with laughter, leaning into Charles' side. They knew their son was in safe hands with her parents.

Charles was wise enough to know that Alys' mother was not quite as fond of him as her father. She had likely wished for a better match for her daughter, and yet, she had not fared too badly with the likes of him. If Charles could not win the woman's approval, much less her heart, perhaps their son could. "We will join you shortly!" Charles assured Edward, if only to rescue him from their young son.

Left to themselves for however short a time, Alys turned to her husband, looping her arms about his waist. "Now then, love," she said softly, looking into his eyes with tender concern. "Talk to me. I know what disavowing her must have cost you."

Charles sighed, unsure he wanted to think about it, much less talk about what had just happened between himself and his father's mother, and yet, if he didn't, it would fester inside him like an open wound. "I have been tolerating her insults all my life, but I will not allow her to insult you, Alys."

"She's never approved of me," she reminded him gently. "She judges me by my mother's example, and that was never going to reflect well. But I will not allow her to upset our children with her spite and her vindictive nature. I will not allow her to hurt you anymore."

"Just as she judged me by my mother," he said - a mother whom he'd loved. Beatrice had disapproved of her because she'd been a commoner, while she disapproved of Alys' mother for an entirely different reason. "She cannot hurt us anymore, love," he assured her, as he pulled her close, hoping he was right. She'd had her own small circle, but that circle was shrinking.

"No, she can't," she promised him, rising onto her toes to brush her lips to his. A shameless display of tender affection where anyone could see them, but they had never been a pair who were going to walk within the lines of propriety. "And she will never meet our children to come, not unless she proves herself changed for the better."

"I do not think she will ever change," he said, unable to hide the sadness from his voice. Which was worse, he wondered, the sorrow or the anger" He preferred the anger, but now that he'd given his grandmother a piece of his mind, instead of relieved, he only felt sad.

"And it is her loss, love, not yours," Alys told him patiently. "She is the one who forced this. All she had to do was be civil, and she couldn't even manage that. Her actions are not your fault, and the consequences are hers just dues for everything she has done and failed to do."

"I know," he admitted with another sigh as he drew her close into his embrace and kissed the top of her head. "Thank you, 'Lys. I love you," he told her, not only thanking her for standing up to his grandmother for him, but for everything else she did for him and most of all, just for being herself and for loving him.

Squeezing her arms about him, Alys leaned into his embrace. "I love you, Beau," she murmured, the old nickname from their childhood now an affectionate endearment that didn't annoy him half so much when she used it these days. "I'll always love you."

"Always is a long time," he replied, hoping she never got bored with him or wanted more than he could give her, like her mother and so many other men and women at court, where affairs were commonplace.

"I waited twenty years for you," she reminded him with a faint smile. "Don't think you can get rid of me after only three with you." She tipped her head back, her hand gently drawing him down until their brows touched. "We risked everything to have this happiness," she murmured. "I will not risk losing it."

"Nor will I," Charles replied, in an uncharacteristically tender voice. "You have my word," he promised further, though it was hardly necessary. She had captured his heart when he'd still been just a boy. Now that she was his, he had no intentions of ever losing her again.

A cheeky smile flickered over her face as she held his gaze. "I think you'll find I've had a lot more than your word, love," she teased in her irrepressible way, knowing they couldn't really afford to be seen to be too affectionate with one another in such a public place.

He touched a brief kiss to her lips, just enough to let her know how much he loved her without being overly affectionate in public. "What do you say we break the news to your brother?" he whispered, touching his forehead to hers.

"I will bet you teaching little Will to ride that my brother can't keep his face straight or our news a secret for more than ten minutes before someone else overhears him," Alys grinned cheerfully, stroking her fingers against his cheeks.

"You don't think he'll be angry, do you?" he asked, not wanting to steal Will's thunder, but it could hardly be helped, and Charles was happy they'd have children around the same age.

Alys snorted with laughter. "Seriously' Ursula is pregnant again, and you think he won't be deliriously happy not to be going through the morning sickness, aching breasts, and constant complaining all alone for once?"

"I don't recall you complaining that much," he remarked, though maybe he just didn't remember it that well. He touched another kiss to her brow before turning and linking her arm in his to find their way back to court and search out her brother.

She laughed, looping her arm through his. "I didn't," she admitted. "Although this time, I might. Just to see how you react." Because she really was that playful, and it was not beyond her to wind him up past the breaking point. That was how she'd got her adult claws into him, after all.

"What if i just put wax in my ears?" he teased back, just as playful and cheeky as she was. It was unlikely he'd actually do it, but he couldn't help teasing her a little. "Have you been feeling sick at all?" he asked, not just curious but concerned.

She glanced up at him, a faintly guilty smile playing about her lips. "This time" Yes," she admitted. "I didn't at all with Will. Perhaps it's because this time I wasn't in a prison when it became abundantly clear."

He would have preferred not to be reminded of that event and frowned a little remorsefully, though it had been through any fault of his own. "Sorry," he told her, sounding as sorry as he felt, though they had been over this before.

"Beau," she said in that warning voice of hers. "Don't. I am allowed to be flippant about it; I lived it, I survived it; and you saved me. And I will be telling our children all about their father, the hero who saved not only me, but their grandmother, from a terrible fate laid down by a wicked old fart in a dress."

"I'm no hero, 'Lys," he insisted. Even if he'd done things some might deem heroic, he'd never felt the part. He'd only been doing what needed to be done, and as far as Alys was concerned, there was nothing he wouldn't do to keep her and their son safe.

"I'll be the judge of that," she informed him pointedly. "You're dashing, handsome, charming, intelligent, just the right amount of scoundrel and cad, and a wonderful gentleman. Put a sword in your hand, and I'll swoon, I promise."

"I'll put my sword in your hand," he murmured low, for her ears only, obviously not referring to a blade made of steel. He smirked a little at his implied meaning, even as he nodded a greeting to a passing courtier.

"I'd rather you put it in my sheath, but whatever you'd like, dear heart." She always matched him, even if it was in a low mutter hidden behind an innocent smile as she, too, greeted old friends among the milling courtiers. But then, they'd always been well-matched. A marriage between them earlier in their lives would definitely have saved this court and the Pasan court an awful lot of trouble.

"Later," he remarked, that smirk remaining on his face. "It's a promise." What had happened earlier in their lives hardly mattered anymore. It could even be argued that their early difficulties and the time spent apart had not only made them better people, but had brought them even closer together, their love for each other deeper than ever before.

And they were where they wanted to be - together, with a son currently clinging onto his grandmother's skirts and laughing uproariously, and a second child soon to join him. Love wasn't fashionable, but it was envied, and Charles and Alys had it in abundance. How else were they supposed to live with each other"