Story [Victoria] "A Kingdom Where My Love Can Stand" | 2023/'24 Olympics & More | AU; Victoria/Melbourne

I'll be back with all of my replies before the next update, but I just wanted to answer this really quick. The boards have a general policy against concrit without the express permission of the author, but if you notice any glaring errors in my writing I'd much rather fix them than not. So please feel free to point them out! Especially when I'm writing fast, those typos seem to slip past my notice more often than not. I'm usually tinkering with posts up to entire months later when I reread my own work, and still finding things to finesse. It's the unending curse of being an author.

 

I didn't expect to have as much fun writing Leopold's unique brand of Leopold-ness until I did.

Discombobulated says it all, doesn't it? At this point, Leopold only sees his chance for power and influence slipping away - a British dynasty by proxy after the loss of his own - all due to his niece failing to listen to the wisdom of her elders and trusting this "interloper" over him. He may think that he's acting in Victoria's best interests out of familial concern, but the heart of the matter is that she's on the verge of "making a mess" of his years of carefully laid plans, and he's not going to stand for it.

Isn't it? As far as I can tell, Leopold thought that domineering through "kindness" made him a good husband, but he kept his queen isolated from her court and entirely out of view from her people, all for her supposed health and well-being. Louise is described as shy, yes, but with a strong mind in private. So, the question is, was this something that Louise desired too, or was this Leopold casting his wife in a very narrow role as the mother of his heirs and nothing more? To give Leopold credit, in history, he did grant Louise more official power and personal freedoms as time went on, but he most definitely kept Louise under tight lock and key in the beginning. It's all just a mess - no matter that I bet Leopold would very well have claimed to love Louise in his own way.

As always, I thank you for reading, and for taking the time to share your thoughts!

lol! I'm glad to hear it, because this entire series is a study in how to write an accidental epic, and I still have so much story yet to tell! But, gosh, it's a story I absolutely adore! This 'verse has a special place in my heart, and I'm so happy that there are others who are just as interested in coming on this very long and winding journey with me as it unfolds.

Agreed! It has to be a breath of fresh air for Victoria to be quite literally out from underneath her mother's thumb, and yet painful in its own way. The duchess is at her very lowest here, which I have the ability to explore in a way that Goodwin could not. I mean, even though we know that Sir John is a viper, from her POV, she's nursing a broken heart and reeling to be left on her own for the first time after unconsciously enduring ~20 years of an abusive relationship. As much as her own trauma doesn't excuse the abuse she's since inflicted upon her daughter - and she certainly had some of her worst moments as a mother in Sta et Retine - it does add another facet to her character that I'd like to explore, to perhaps surprising ends, depending on how the words flow.

Isn't it?

With all of the darkly burning, cold-eyed menace that we can so easily imagine thanks to Rufus Sewell and then some. It's always the quiet ones.

. . . needless to say, Protective!Lord M is the best Lord M, and I can't wait to explore this aspect of his character even more so in stories to come.

Oh, that's awesome! It's always wonderful when we can see bits of ourselves in stories, so I really appreciated that this resonated for you. I think that's one of the things I've enjoy best about writing Victoria's character so far - she may be the Queen of England, and a fair bit of these stories center around that, but she's still just an 18yo girl who's lived an incredibly isolated life, learning and exploring her the world for the first, and there's something incredibly special about that.

Once more, I thank you so very much for reading, and for leaving such awesome feedback!

I do love writing a good author's note, so I am very glad to hear this!

You're 100% spot on. If I had to summarize Leopold in a single sentence, it'd be this one.

*high-fives fellow Age of Sail nerd!*

As soon as I realized that Hardy was still alive in 1837 and that the Victory was right there, I knew just what I had to do.

As I said above: Protective!Lord M is the best Lord M, hands down.

I've not seen this film, but now I need to check it out. Because that is a stance I can completely see an elderly Victoria taking.

Just so. And especially a spouse who knows Leopold's controlling ways better than most, and misgives seeing them inflicted on another . . .

But lookie there at that line in the sand, drawn for all of the conflicts yet to come.

Thank you so much for reading, as always, and taking the time to leave such a lovely review!



All right, then! I have the next part all ready to go, and it's my aim to have it posted tonight after one last read through! But, if time works against me, I will see all you lovely souls back here first thing in the morning!

 

Aw, your words honor me! And gah, I'm 99% sure that I know which epic you're talking about, and it's awesome. I've only read the first third or so myself, because I want our 'verses to be as different as possible (I'm at the Language of Flowers fix-it fic ), but I can't wait to delve into the rest when Kingdom is finished, or at least much farther along.

Now, towards that end, here's the next update!

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Author's Notes: Here we are with the +1 of this 5+1 fic (and 30k+ interlude, which was not at all my original plan; accidental epic, I tell you )! Once again, I am going to include my notes at the beginning, rather than the end. Thus, it's my pleasure to present, without further ado . . .

Spoiler: Even More Notes

A Note on Baroness Lehzen: Those familiar with the story/fandom undoubtedly know this, but for anyone who may not be: Louise Lehzen was the youngest daughter (out of ten children) of a Lutheran pastor in Hanover. Due to her family's humble means, she had to seek her own income at an early age. To do so, she became a governess. She proved exemplary in her profession, and eventually rose to serve the Duke and Duchess of Kent. As you read in The First Grave, Lehzen was one of Victoria's foremost protectors and first passionate advocate. She was instrumental in encouraging Victoria's independent spirit, as well as instilling in her a love of learning. By any measure, it's easy to say that she was more Victoria's mother than the Duchess of Kent through the turbulent years of her upbringing, and Victoria loved her in like kind.

Lehzen was made a baroness by George IV in order to elevate her as a "proper" mentor for Victoria, but the stigma of her common birth ever overshadowed her title. Victoria appointed Lehzen as "lady attendant" upon ascending the throne, and her duties made her a sort of chief of staff. Lehzen served as a secretary to Victoria, liaised between royal residences, and managed the royal household - a role which many amongst the staff resented, as she was only just formerly one of their ranks. (That said, I'm not going to get into too much of the downstairs drama from the show, as I personally thought a great deal of it overdone, and, more importantly, took screentime away from an already very condensed plot in regards to Victoria herself - which I am clearly fixing in this epic. ) On the opposite side of that spectrum, Lehzen was looked down upon by Victoria's court for being their supposedly "improperly advanced" social inferior. Yet this hardly deterred Lehzen from zealously serving Victoria - perhaps too zealously, at times, as Lehzen could also be just as stubborn, severe, and oftentimes humorless as she was loyal.

A Note on Lehzen and Melbourne (and Albert): The most interaction we really saw between Lehzen and Melbourne from Goodwin was Lehzen's original disapproval of Melbourne as a "disreputable" man whom she didn't trust to be alone with Victoria. From there, I can only imagine that jealousy and resentment were the next emotions she cycled through as Victoria and Melbourne's bond grew - much the same as Lehzen did with Albert. (More on that in a second, though.)

But, I have since stumbled into a further development following Sta et Retine, and that's one of unlikely allies and grudging respect - or, at least, the respect is grudging on Lehzen's part. As far as Melbourne is concerned, Lehzen is 1) a strong woman, and 2) puts Victoria's well-being above all else. As those are two of Melbourne's absolute favorite things, I can see him being patient and amused, more so than offended, when Lehzen pushes to protect both Victoria and her place by her side. (Dealing with obdurate personalities in Parliament has to make Lehzen's prickly temper rather small potatoes in comparison, I bet. ) Due to this, I can see Lehzen slowly coming to respect Melbourne as a man who also puts Victoria and her reign first, without seeking to dominate her or take advantage when he so very easily could have. It helps, too, that Melbourne values Lehzen's role for Victoria's sake, and has no desire to diminish their bond. In history, there may have been amity enough between them - apparently, at one point, there was a rumor in Parliament that Melbourne had proposed marriage to Lehzen, but she turned him down. Whether that was taken from their having a cordial relationship as a basis, or the gossips just thinking themselves clever in their mockery, is anyone's guess, of course.

In this AU, however, here's the scene where the exact parameters of their relationship clicked for me, if you're interested, during Victoria's coronation ball:

Spoiler: Excerpt from "Sta et Retine"

“How many glasses of champagne has she had?” he asked without preamble, an edge to his voice.

“Too many,” Lehzen’s mouth turned – though, for once, her ire was not directed at him. “I made attempts to water her portions, but that . . . that swine kept fetching her new glasses himself.”

William felt his mouth tug, and he had to make an effort to maintain a distantly amiable expression.

“After this dance,” he suggested mildly, ”perhaps you may persuade Her Majesty to take some air – if only to the retiring room, if she cannot be convinced to close the ball entirely.”

“I shall try.” Lehzen sighed, no matter the determination that lit her eyes. She paused, but then admitted somewhat wryly: “You must know, Lord Melbourne, that I've scarce been able to persuade Victoria to do anything she has not wished to do since she was a very small child.”

That statement was the single most civil thing she’d ever said to him – not that he minded terribly much; the baroness was a clear she-wolf amongst an enemy pack of such beasts, and he’d have her bare teeth for her charge. Victoria deserved nothing less.

. . . yet that didn't mean he wouldn't try to have her accept him as an ally on that field of battle.

“Even so,” towards that aim, he punctuated his most charming smile with a courtly bow, “if there’s anyone who has a chance of success, I believe that it’s you, Baroness.”

His words clearly pleased her – little as she would ever admit to such – and William fell back to the sidelines, content to merely wait and observe until he was needed once more.

That, of course, contrasts with how Lehzen and Albert absolutely despised each other in canon/history. They brought out the very worst in each other, and Albert's "either she goes or I go" ultimatum to Victoria is one of the reasons I didn't get far with watching Season 2. I had seen that gif set prior (somehow cast in a romantic light), looking for spoilers to see if their relationship improved at all, and, with that, I had no desire to endure up to the finale. (I picked up my pen for Kingdom pretty much simultaneously. ) Ultimately, I can't summarize Lehzen and Albert's relationship any better than Wikipedia:

Spoiler: Excerpt From Wikipedia

The arrival of Prince Albert led to significant changes in Victoria's household. Lehzen had opposed Coburg ambitions of Victoria marrying Albert, believing the princess to be a "second Queen Elizabeth, virgin and independent of male influence." Albert was well-educated, and had just completed a tour of Europe, preceded by years at the University of Bonn. Victoria's court dismayed his puritan German sensibilities. Lehzen and Albert soon developed a dislike for each other; she regularly thwarted Albert's will in the running of the household; meanwhile, he found her personally repellent and unworthy of befriending the queen, openly referring to her as "the hag" and a "crazy stupid intriguer".

When Victoria's first child, the Princess Royal, was born, Victoria trusted Lehzen to make the arrangements for the nursery. Lehzen placed it in the care of various staff as well as Sir James Clark, despite Albert's objections that the physician was wholly unsuited to the post, having already discredited himself during the affair of Lady Flora Hastings a year previously. At fourteen months the Princess Royal fell ill, losing her appetite and appearing pale and feverish. Dr Clark declared it a minor ailment, incorrectly prescribing her with calomel, a medication laced with mercury and laudanum. In fact, it is more likely that the precocious princess was simply expressing her dismay at changes in the royal nursery, then occurring with the arrival of her younger brother. Albert, a devoted father, confronted Victoria on the incompetence of the staff selected by Lehzen. There was a quarrel, after which Albert declared that he would leave the affair in her queenly hands, and placed it on her conscience if the child died.

Soon after this argument, Victoria conceded to her husband, not wishing to see him unhappy. She made a final attempt to defend Lehzen, describing her as a selflessly loyal woman who deserved to remain close to her former charge. But in the face of Albert's resolve, Victoria dismissed Lehzen, ostensibly for her health. To Albert, Lehzen was a servant who had attempted to rise above her place in life, and he wanted Victoria to rely on him alone. Lehzen accepted the fiction of ill health, and agreed to depart. In the days leading up to her exit, she taught some of her duties to Marianne Skerrett, one of Victoria's dressers, and returned her keys to the queen. Lehzen departed on 30 September 1842, leaving a note rather than speaking directly with Victoria, believing that this would be less painful. The queen was initially unaccustomed to Lehzen's absence, having spent almost her whole life up to that point in the presence of the former governess. "It was very painful to me... waking this morning, and recollecting she was really quite away," Victoria said.

Word of Lehzen's departure spread through the court and elsewhere. Reports of the cause varied; the court diarist Charles Greville noted she was leaving "for her health (as she says), to stay five or six months, but it is supposed never to return." The Times, however, reported that she was simply visiting friends in Germany. After her departure, family adviser Baron Stockmar remarked of the affair that:

"It was not without great difficulty that the Prince succeeded in getting rid of [Lehzen]. She was foolish enough to contest his influence, and not to conform herself to the change in her position... If she had done so, and conciliated the P[rince], she might have remained in the Palace to the end of her life."

Victoria went on to maintain a close relationship with Lehzen through letters until her death, and even made the time to visit her twice in Germany. Yet, here in this AU, It perhaps goes without saying that I have other plans in mind for the future of this entire royal family.

A Note on Brighton: In history, Victoria did not at all like Brighton. She thought it busy and overcrowded, with privacy hard to come by. Her uncle, George IV, had spent a veritable fortune on building his own palace by the seaside, the Brighton Pavilion, the look of which, she did not at all favor. She sold the Pavilion to Brighton just a few short years later, and used the proceeds to build Osborne House on the Isle of Wight.





A Note on the Seven Sisters: This span of cliffs between Brighton and Eastbourne is now one of my absolute favorites, to say the least! I need not say any more, but instead share . . .

This is drone footage with the Belle Tout Lighthouse:



And this one is just plain pretty:

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“Your Miles of Shore”
(Marathon Swimming; Story Building Challenge)​

VIII.VI

The Attendant

The sun had nearly set on their last day in Brighton.

There was a part of her that was happy for their tour’s impending conclusion, if only in the way that every traveler longed to return to the simple comforts of home at a journey’s end. Yet home remained an abstract concept in and of itself. Kensington was home no longer – praise be to God for his mercy – but the halls of Buckingham Palace yet remained foreign, and the castle at Windsor even more so. Perhaps it wasn’t the tour’s end that Louise Lehzen welcomed, then, so much as the chance to return and regain her bearings where home was now to be. The year past had been one of constant change and transformation – so much so that she often felt as a leaf left to spin in a gale of storm wind, unable to find solid ground. It was time for their roots to settle in new soil, to attach and drink and gather their strength so that the vast boughs above could reach and flower and grow.

It was not only for herself that Louise favored a time of rest and acclimation before their inevitable return to London, but, more importantly, her charge.

No, her charge no more, but rather her queen and sovereign majesty.

Queen Victoria.

Even now, pride crested within her for Victoria’s ascension – so long fought for and preciously, if yet precariously, won. She was nearly so unconstrained as to whisper the regnal address aloud, just for her own pleasure in triumph for her long years of faith and constant devotion, yet she resisted the impulse as superfluous. Instead, she merely held her head up all the higher as she walked.

The long line of her shadow seemingly flickered in time with her ruminations, cast from the low light spilling in through the windows. The halls were rubescent against the black, while the view of the water beyond rippled like molten amber, reflecting the heart of a flame. There was something about the seaside that made the theater of the heavens all the more intense – seemingly alive with color and resplendent in all glory – and that day’s sunset was no exception.

She would very much miss the ocean, Louise allowed; she would miss it very much, indeed.

Yet she did not pause to observe the spectacle. Instead, she carried purposefully on her way to the end of the corridor, where she came to a set of tall double doors. She nodded smartly to the footmen standing post, and was admitted to the queen’s private sitting room.

The space within was dark, with no hearth nor candle lit, and empty. Victoria had dismissed her entourage for the night, claiming that she desired solitude to prepare for their early start back to Windsor upon the morrow. Neither there did Victoria remain in her own company, and the doors to her bedchamber were yet closed. Instead, Louise looked, and found her out on the balcony.

The royal apartments were quite spacious here, as per George IV’s design. There was an entire sitting area, out and open to the breeze while offering an unhindered view down Brighton’s central most boulevard to the sea. There, Victoria reclined on a chaise, an open book loosely in hand, but she herself fast asleep.

She felt a swell of fondness as she quietly made her way forward. Gently, she took the book from Victoria, not wishing for it to fall should she relax her grip any further. Louise glanced, and recognized the now familiar title upon the spine as the third volume of Hume’s Histories, which was a feat that Victoria had only just recently proudly achieved.

That she endeavored to apply herself to her studies after such a long day of constant activity – long days, even – said much in its own right. Oh, Victoria had never been a troublesome pupil by any means, yet she could be inattentive, and she often found it trying to concentrate on a single subject for overlong. Louise had quickly discovered that she learned best from spoken instruction; even a book read aloud and remarked upon ensured that she would retain the most information possible to memory. Muddling her way through such a dry, dense text was far from easy – even when she had her prime minister available to discuss the chapters and elucidate the more unfamiliar concepts and terms.

Now, however . . .

She would simply have to do her best in the viscount's place – but later. For now, Victoria was partaking in the rest her body so clearly needed, and Louise was ill-inclined to disturb that rest. Instead, she took to her own favored chair, just across from the chaise, where she was content to sit vigil until her queen awakened.

With no immediate demands then placed upon her attention, she took a moment to observe the twilight's advance. Lamps were already lit on the balcony, and their dancing flames grew even brighter as the sun surrendered its dominance in the night sky. Already, in the deeper tones to the east, the stars twinkled, and the sun seemingly winked in answer to its brethren as it sank beneath an obstructing line of clouds, setting them alight with a final burst of white-hot gold.

Louise watched until the sun's orb disappeared completely from view. Then, she picked up her lap desk, and settled in to write. As the youngest of ten children – six of whom dear sisters – she never wanted for correspondence back in Hanover, even if the frequency and content of that correspondence varied from sibling to sibling. As she had been unduly blessed with financial comfort enough to share, she supported many of her nieces and nephews as they found their own standing in the world, and enjoyed relationships with them too by letter.

Yet, most faithfully did she maintain her bond with her eldest sister, as if they lived mere moments apart instead of so many vast miles. Catharina had been her greatest supporter when, by necessity, she first left home to earn a living, and had remained as such until her reputation for faithful service won her the role of governess in the household of the Duke of Kent. Since she first departed for England’s shores, Catharina had remained her one constant, unbreakable link to the country of her birth and the family she had left there.

To her sister, she could say anything – and now, more so than ever, did she feel as if she had so much to say . . . so much so that she hardly knew where to begin.

Well, Louise resolved as she considered the clean expanse of the waiting stationary, the beginning was ever as good a place as any.

So, she began:

Dearest Carine,

I must begin by begging your indulgence for the tardiness of this letter. My initial resolve of writing a day by day accounting of our travels has since proved to be unsustainable with my circumstances in actuality. It would seem that a holiday for the Queen of England is no such thing, or at least not entirely – for a tour puts as much upon HM’s shoulders as if she remained in Buckingham or Windsor instead.

When last I wrote, we had just departed Weymouth for Poole & Portsmouth. So much has happened since then. The wonders of the coastline continue to marvel and inspire; truly, where the white cliffs greet the sea has to be some of God’s most favored creation, for I can hardly imagine a natural sight more pleasing to the senses. We have observed many points of interest from the summits above, and have equally made our way down to explore a number of harbors and beaches and rocky coves.

Earlier this week, an interlude was taken from Brighton to Beachy Head in order for HM to meet with representatives from Trinity House – the official authority overseeing the kingdom's lighthouses and lightvessels. Their agents bade HM to examine the new construct of Bell Tout Lighthouse as part of their overtures for increased royal funding. The tour itself was most remarkable for the house’s lighting apparatus, as well as the views it afforded from its highest point. We stayed two nights in Eastbourne before returning to Brighton for HM’s continued engagements, which remained many and long.

Most remarkable on this stretch of shoreline are the Seven Sisters – I have included a sketch I made in an attempt to capture their likeness, yet my skills are hardly equal to convey their majesty. The second morning of our venture, HM expressed her desire to explore the cliffs by horseback, of which she is most fond. You well know that I have no similar love for such conveyance – I much prefer to drive, if necessary – yet, for the pleasing vantages promised by such a venture, I acquiesced to accompany HM and her PM. I believe that they kindly humored honored my lesser horsemanship, and went at a much slower pace than they could have otherwise. Usually, I make little attempt to keep stride with them, as they are each very much comfortable in the saddle, yet so inspiring was the day that I attempted what a canter I could when the ground allowed, and to pleasing results.

When we made to break, I was content to stay put with the Hon. Ld. Portman and L. Alfred when HM announced her desire for a gallop. Even after an hour’s ride, her mare was yet restless, for she is a most finely bred creature, and perhaps HM was far more still. HM proposed a race to the summit of the next Sister, to which the PM agreed – and most timely, too, for HM was off before she scarce uttered the challenge, forcing the PM to give fast pursuit.

From our place in the low-down, we could see them, for the most part keeping pace together until a great wind blew in from the water. The gust was enough to blow HM’s hat right off her head, and then even further still across the scrub. The PM abandoned the race in order to dismount – half while the creature was still running, it seemed; I will never understand such ease upon horseback for myself – and chase the hat to where it came to a stop amongst an obliging patch of milkwort. HM had, by then, turned her own mount, and accepted the hat when the PM bowed in an exaggeratingly courtly gesture that somehow felt improper for its familiarity, no matter how it may have bespoke respect most graciously to present its return. I was not close enough to hear what he said, but I could hear HM’s laughter ring out most clearly in answer.

She laughs in such a way around him, sister. I find it alarming, how free she is with her affections where he is concerned, just as I do not like how easily he seems to inspire her affections to begin. Melbourne cannot help but be affected in like manner, I must grant – for Victoria is light itself – still, my heart forebodes -

They are most comfortable together, HM and her PM – perhaps too comfortable, I would say many amongst the court mutter – and yet -

I, admittedly, do not know what to make of their relationship. Not entirely. The man is known to be disreputable, and thus unfit for HM’s presence beyond any sort of official capacity. I was prepared to be completely wary of him in defense of my charge my queen, and made no secret of my distrust. Yet LM has ever met my suspicions and outright unkindness – yes, unkindness, I am self-aware enough to admit, you need not laugh at me so – with an entirely unaffected and even wryly amused good humor and unerringly polite regard as if I was some great lady and not merely -

Carine, how can I explain the PM so as to assist your understanding? LM is, admittedly, what many women would consider quite handsome tolerable in appearance, in a way that I can only describe as darkly knowing heavens, but how that sounds like a line straight from a lurid Romantic's novel. His countenance is deceivingly Byronic, which is a term I use with no small amount of irony, yet his appearance is just that. This, I have grudgingly come to admit. He is patient and considerate and kind and, most importantly, respectful – even to me, whom he could rightly view as an enemy. I was at first, after all. I yet still am?

I am no fool. I know what HM’s court thinks of me. They view me as nothing but an upshoved servant, with no more than a perfunctory title so as to supposedly legitimize my place in HM’s household as a child. Am I not, though? HM has done me the great honor of allowing me to remain in her service, even when the natural progression between governess and charge could have easily seen me returned to Hanover. She now trusts me to run her household – to be secretary and liaison and guard and lady all at once. Few beyond HM, however, tolerate my presence in any such capacity without the most grudging of compliances. I am sneered at by both the staff below and the courtiers above. I have no true place in this world but to exist as hers.

Yet, LM, far from fighting me, seems to value me as an ally on the field of battle that is upholding HM’s interests, first and foremost, above all others. The rest of the court exists to serve HM; I serve Victoria. LM understands that, I think, and even goes so far as to welcome the comradery of my shield and sword.​

Louise paused, and read the passage a second time through. Her pen stilled as she considered how to further express her thoughts – for what were her thoughts?

Unsettled, she turned her eyes away from the paper, and sought the horizon. By then, only the deepest scarlets and pink-flushed violets remained in the fledgling night sky. Soon, even they too would fade. She tapped her pen in a single restless motion, and then resumed writing.

I could tolerate LM on that point alone, were it not for every further point regarding his relationship with HM that I cannot so easily accept. I know; now I am speaking in circles, for circles is the inevitable shape of my thoughts where the PM and HM are concerned.

I will say that the PM is HM's staunchest supporter and defender of her claim to the throne, and for that I am grateful. He can protect her where I cannot follow, in such a way that I would never be able to similarly achieve as a woman – and a woman in service, at that.

Little as HM needs protecting, of course. Victoria is very much her own self, and she makes her own way, just the same as Elizabeth before her. Still, it is a very good thing, to have a champion; I may even go so far to dub it a blessing for Victoria to have such a PM when her reign is yet so new.

Yet, also to consider is the way her eyes light up whenever he enters a room and how she remains in constant awareness of his presence in a crowd. There is how she wants to share every good thing with him when they are apart, and how he is the one to whom she turns when there are defeats to confide. It aches in its own way, that I am no longer first in her heart. I am not ready to surrender my place in her affections, even as I tell myself that I shall always have a dwelling there all my own. Holding one love close hardly precludes love existing for another – yet it is that very word that troubles me so greatly. For, love – I do not think any other monarch and prime minister have ever had such a connection. Their bond is unusual, and highly so. Yet so much of HM’s reign is unusual; it challenges the entire concept of what is or yet should be in matters of governance, let alone trying the preconceptions of what a woman is capable of when allowed the chance to pursue the same possibilities for advancement that are assumed by men. I understand the foundation that established their present relationship; I can hardly begrudge its inception any more than I can now prevent its growth.

And yet, it is their bond's continued growth which I yet misbode –​

Across from her, Victoria stirred. Louise looked up almost guiltily. She stilled, expectant, and yet Victoria merely found a more comfortable position against the chaise, and quieted once more. A surge of affection warmed Louise for the contented little sigh she loosed, no matter how shadowed her regard was by a lingering concern.

She would do anything to ensure that Victoria ever remained as such – in peace and happiness and contentment – was the truth in its simplest form. It was with that thought held foremost in mind that she continued:

HM’s spirits have been low since the PM’s departure. She began writing him nearly as soon as he left – as if she wished her letter to forereach his destination. Any pain she experiences, I quite feel as my own. Yet, this pain –

You know that I have always encouraged HM towards independence. She has a strong will, and it is that indomitable spirit which shall see her succeed in any venture she pursues – up to and including her own rule. That rule, however, is one I have always envisioned her undertaking alone. It fills me with a feeling that I cannot describe – the dread that she may someday share her rule with a man. For it is a fear that may all too easily become reality: the possibility that she may wed a man who does not see fit to merely support her reign, but rather, to supersede it. Victoria alone is Queen of England. Anyone she honors with the privilege of sitting at the right hand of her throne may endeavor to act as the fist of that hand in carrying out her will, but it is her will that must control, and her will only.

How many men do you know who would suffer such supremacy from their wives? If HM decides to marry, the question of to whom shall require an extraordinarily unique perhaps impossibly so bridegroom in answer – a man who carries equal measures of humility and strength; a man who shall be as comfortable kneeling in subservience as he is ready to stand as her partner in support and knight in defense. If you only knew the spoiled, arrogant princelings that have been paraded before her – vainglorious, empty young men who view her birthright as a prize they can steal so blithely assume, simply by the supposed superiority of their sex -

France and the Netherlands and Russia have all since failed in their suits, while Spain and Austria and Prussia have no prince of suitably high rank worth considering. Her English cousins are just as abhorrent to countenance as that insufferable little King of Greece who was thankfully only briefly mentioned. The American president's offer of marriage was more in jest than sincerely intended – or, at least, I fervently hope. Then there is, of course, her Coburg cousin, to whom many already consider her all but wed, but in Albert too there is a strong sense of ambition, already festering with resentment. I have no such faith that he shall endeavor to support and uphold, but rather -

No, sister: I never wish Victoria to wed, for I trust no man to put her entire self before his own. There was a reason, after all, that Queen Elizabeth never took a consort; she quite knew the danger she would have risked, empowering a would-be king by her side, and chose to hold her crown close in place of a husband and children. I pray, most fervently, for HM to follow the path of her forebearer and do much the same.

Look how my words have since rambled. How did I reach this point? I can hardly trace the progress of my own mind. Suffice it to say that it misgives me to see Victoria made so despondent over any man – even one who is not and can never be -​

Yet Louise drew in a breath, and held it. Her fingertips had turned nearly bloodless, pressed against the ferrule of the pen; consciously, she relaxed her grip.

It was, she thought, rather beyond time for her to shift the direction of her letter. And so, she did.

HM's current depression of spirits may have as much to do with her mother as her PM, that said. The duchess was initially set to attend each stage of her daughter's tour, but she ultimately decided to remain wholly in Brighton on account of her health. Since our own arrival in Brighton, TD has shown no softening in her demeanor – which is something I believe that HM did not even realize she was anticipating until it was denied to her.

Yes; matters on this score remain the same since my last letter. TD has hardly spoken two words together to her daughter since Lady Flora’s death Sir John’s dismissal. For seeing to the demise of that godless snake alone, I am and shall ever be grateful to LM. Once, I would have considered such silence from TD a blessing. Victoria has endured far too much of that woman’s venom over the years, and deserves every possible reprieve if outright reparations are non-forthcoming. Yet, for TD to continually wound HM through withholding every possible part of herself is a fresh agony, compounding every previous pain inflicted twice over anew.

I have many sins to lay at the feet of TD, but each and every day that Victoria’s countenance steels in her mother's presence is another crime that I doubt I'll be able to ever fully forgive.

At the very least, the arrival of the queen dowager has restored some small part of HM's spirits. Queen Adelaide is a credit to our sex, and remains as such even after the crown has since passed to her niece. She is a woman who takes quite naturally to nurturing, and her empathy is as sincere as her wisdom is shrewd. Her gentle guidance is what the duchess should have provided all along exactly what Victoria needs, and HM has only benefited from her aunt’s compassion and support.

Yet Brighton itself is unlike any of our previous dwellings along the coast. The Royal Pavilion – George IV’s own Babel of decadence – is nearly obscene in its opulence, and the town itself far too crowded for my taste. It is quite nearly London upon the sea, and in the worst of ways. Victoria has been agitated since arriving; she says that she feels put on display, like a bird in a cage, even when walking the open expanse of the promenade. The beaches are constantly congested and the clamor from the entitled curious masses never-ending.

It seems that her late uncle had a similar distaste for the Brighton proper – for all that he adored the sea, and spent many summers in Sussex. QA, as such, suggested a day of sailing in order to show her niece all of King William’s favorite spots. They should have long been able to show their niece this much together, and that Victoria was deprived of every possibility for advancement and development beyond Kensington is another strike against her mother and Sir John that only God is fit to judge.

To our surprise, QA then proceeded to command the vessel herself – an even smaller yacht than the Royal Charlotte, but just as finely wrought a craft. KW, it seemed, taught her how to sail very early in their marriage, and the recreation remained a favorite for them to partake in together. Adelaide considered it her honor to instruct her niece in place of her uncle, and expressed as much. Victoria, I think, understood QA's depth of sentiment, and declared herself delighted to build upon the skills she'd newly gained in Portsmouth.

From Brighton, we sailed east, and were treated to a magnificent view of the Seven Sisters from the water. We were almost to Beachy Head when QA had us stop in a cove – one of KW’s favorites, it would seem – where we partook in refreshments together. Then, she suggested a swim.

It was first reflexive of Victoria to protest, I believe. She never learned how to swim – our use of bathing machines throughout the summer was hardly conducive to such a pursuit, and the Channel itself is as intimidating a body a water as any to learn in. Was it proper, even, to do so? For we had not the usual amenities available to us for swimming.

Yet Adelaide persevered – there were no eyes present to take offense, and the only men in our party were Colonel Hampson and two marines who doubled as guardsmen and sailors, whom she quite trusted to avert their eyes in an honorable fashion. Chemises could serve as well as bathing gowns, and would dry quickly in the sun. For her aunt's encouragement, Victoria at last acquiesced, as I suspect she desired all along.

What then passed was a lesson that was as endearing as it was exhilarating, which I suspect will remain foremost as one of my most treasured memories. Adelaide took the lion’s share in tutelage, while I provided what encouragement I could in support. It has been many long years since I myself swam, after all – not since I was last home in Hanover, as far back as to when we were all still children together. Has it truly been that long? I, admittedly, cannot recall.

Once Victoria mastered the trick of moving with the sea currents, she took easily to the pursuit. QA dubbed her a natural, and quite proudly declared that she was not at all surprised by the speed of her advancement. For some time, I even went so far as to turn my attention away from Victoria. I simply allowed myself to exist with the waves, and breathe to match their rhythm. It was a most serene experience, and its peace has yet continued to linger. I hardly realized how scarce a commodity peace has been for myself, up until that moment – these last twenty years, I have known so very much of war instead.

By the time we finally returned to the Pavilion, it was full dark. The whole of our party was in high spirits, if somewhat fatigued. We all bore matching, sun-flushed cheeks, and from our hair and the state of our dress, it was perhaps apparent that we had been partaking in every joy the sea had to offer. Our merriment, however, was not one shared by the Duchess of Kent. She looked at her daughter in such a way with frustration with anger in jealousy in regret that I thought she would at last break her silence in order to express the censure that she so clearly felt aloud.

Instead, she only looked HM up and down, and then loudly turned without a word.

I felt Victoria’s hurt dismay most acutely, for her face is ever expressive to my eye, and she quite openly betrayed her every feeling before she regained her composure. Instead of advancing, as I first thought she would, Victoria turned in the opposite direction from her mother with a determined stride. I was left for but a moment with the queen dowager, who was rather visibly angry. We exchanged glances, but said nothing. Adelaide then followed after the duchess with every intent, I suspect, of speaking her piece. Yet I could think no more of the duchess and queen dowager when I had my own sovereign to attend.

I did not catch Victoria before she reached her chambers, whereupon she stated that she wished to write her PM straightaway – even before her ladies could tend to the abused state of her hair and dress for the night. It perhaps goes without saying, but I do not think that the pages she filled had much at all to do with matters of state. Yet what could I say? What could I have done? What should I have done or may I yet still do? I do not know, and my indecision on this matter troubles me greatly.

None of this is quite my place. Yet, isn't it my place? It is my place. Her well-being will always be my place. Victoria is more my daughter in heart than she has ever been that awful woman’s in blood, and I alone wish to ensure that she -

We leave Brighton first thing upon the morrow. As much as I am happy to return to Windsor, I know that I will miss the time we have spent here. I will miss the ocean and the cliffs and how large the sun and moon always seem over the water. I may even go so far as to miss the Pavilion itself, if only for the salt spas. These great heated pools are indeed most restorative. George IV was a hedonistic devil in more ways than I care to number, yet he certainly knew what he was doing in designing the Pavilion's amenities.

What I shall miss most of all is how happy Victoria has been whilst on holiday. The year to come promises trials and challenges aplenty as she truly takes the throne as her own. It goes without saying that she shall persevere through whatever fate has next in store – more so than merely persevering, she shall thrive; of that, I have no doubt – yet her fortitude may indeed be tried. Though there shall be joys in the weeks and months to come, those joys may not be as simple as those she has just recently indulged.

As such, I am determined to do my best to remind her of life’s pleasures and rewards – to ensure that she cares for her own self, even as she turns her attention outwards to her entire realm. I will endeavor to strengthen the hand that holds the scepter, even as she holds that scepter high. I feel that, for this, above all else, God has placed me on this earth.

I look forward to hearing your thoughts in reply to all I have written – your wisdom and your counsel and your beloved reminders of home. Until then, I remain yours, with every possible affection,

Louise​

It was with some uncertainty that she signed her name, feeling strangely dissatisfied with the letter's conclusion. It was good, she reasoned, to express the thoughts that she could hardly say aloud, in order to make better sense of those same thoughts for herself, and yet . . .

Louise read the letter once over, and then a second time through, her frown deepening for the unnecessary sentiments and multiple indiscretions it contained within. There were, she acknowledged, many things that shouldn’t be said at all – not even to a confidant as trusted as her beloved sister.

So she stood, and walked over to feed the sheaves of paper to the now hungrily burning lanterns. There, she watched as her words were consumed and turned to ash, even as her mouth pursed, considering how best to express them anew. It was some minutes later as she stood still in place, regarding the light, that she heard a small voice say:

“Lehzen?”

Louise turned in time to see as Victoria sat upright on the chaise, blearily clearing the sleep from her eyes and stretching to ease the ache from her neck and shoulders. Reflexively, she dipped into a deep curtsy and returned, “Your Majesty.”

“What time is it?” Victoria peered at the near dark sky. "It is well night already."

“It is half past eight, Your Majesty.”

"Is it truly?" She blinked, surprised. “Goodness, but I had no intention to sleep for so very long.”

“Not overly long, ma'am; if your body required rest, then you slept just long enough,” Louise assured, an unwitting smile pulling on the corner of her mouth to see more of the girl she had raised than the woman and queen she’d since become.

“Still, I have missed going down to sup.” Victoria pressed her mouth in consideration. “I do not wish to keep the kitchen staff up and waiting, not when we travel so early tomorrow.”

Louise – who well knew of the many indulgences that the staff were partaking in whilst enjoying the queen’s tour for themselves – dryly returned, “A place may be set for Your Majesty whenever you are ready, or a tray may be sent up. It is an honor for each and every one of us in your service to perform our duties as such.”

Victoria gave her a knowing look, yet only said, “I am, admittedly, not very hungry.”

“Perhaps, then, only a light repast? It will be good of you to eat something, ma'am.”

"I suppose it may," Victoria sighed, but waved her hand in affirmation. "You are right, much as you ever are."

Louise made quick work of ringing for the footmen and passing on the order. When she returned to the balcony, Victoria was perched on the edge of the chaise, Hume’s Histories once more held in hand. She looked up from the book, and glanced out to where the last of the daylight had faded from the horizon. “I knew that Hume was dry reading,” she commented with good humor, “but not that dry.”

“Your Majesty has been applying yourself,” Louise made no attempt to keep the pride from her voice. “It is understandable that your efforts have produced a physical effect.”

Yet Victoria did not so easily agree. “I do not feel as if I am applying myself," she sighed. "I can only see all that I have yet to do, or still to learn.” Distractedly, she bit her lip – a long-fought habit that she yet defected to whenever she was distracted, or taken by a particularly troubling thought – and looked out to the water again. “It was easier to absorb the likes of Hume when . . .”

When Lord Melbourne was here, Louise heard, even when Victoria let her sentence taper off, ultimately unfinished.

It was on the tip of her tongue to say that Her Majesty was entirely capable of relying on her own self, but she understood that those words were not what the moment required. Instead, she considered her reply, and then made to offer: “I am not sure what insights I may impart as compared to Lord Melbourne, but I may read aloud to you, if you wish.”

“Oh, you always have wisdom to impart," Victoria's warmly assured – with her own concerns just as easily pushed aside in favor of addressing her own.

“Whatever Your Majesty declares, I may but hold as true."

“Then Her Majesty does indeed declare," Victoria affirmed most cheerfully, and Louise let the corners of her mouth turn upwards, if only slightly.

“Yes, I would like it very much if you would read to me," Victoria reconfirmed her agreement. "If only until Hume puts both of us to sleep, that is.”

“For Your Majesty, I shall endeavor to persevere to the best of my ability."

"Of course," Victoria said, settling back against the chaise once more. "Just as you always do, Lehzen."

Dear girl, Louise thought with pleasure, even as she accepted the volume from her queen's hand. She retook her place in her own chair, and sat perched straight and stern on the cushions edge. She took a breath, and began where Victoria had last marked:

“Here therefore commences the useful, as well as the more agreeable part of modern annals; certainty has place in all the considerable, and even most of the minute parts of historical narration; a great variety of events, preserved by printing, give the author the power of selecting, as well as adorning, the facts, which he relates; and as each incident has a reference to our present manners and situation, instructive lessons occur every moment during the course of the narration. Whoever carries his anxious researches into preceding periods is moved by a curiosity, liberal indeed and commendable; not by any necessity for acquiring knowledge of public affairs, or the arts of civil government . . . "



FIN


~ MJ