#tcket

 “He was nowhere near me, Sybil—they tackled him before he could get to me, and he was a terrible shot.” Charles recounted calmly, unfazed by the assassination attempt just that day. He was used to this sort of thing, and even when it was happening, he didn’t feel the slightest hint of fear—not because he considered himself to be particularly brave, but he supposed it was just a subconscious reaction from years of not showing his emotions. “It’s really nothing to be worried about, honestly. I’m fine.” he reassured his wife again, laying his hand over hers.

“Truthfully, a boy.” Sybil absentmindedly ran a hand over her swollen stomach, offering her sister a smile. “I see how the three of us were- nearly always fighting, I feel a boy would be much easier to care for. Tom’s mother though thinks the baby is going to be a girl, something about how I’m carrying.” The young woman waved her hand as if to dismiss the idea, Sybil had never much been one to believe in old wives tales. “I do have something to ask you though before everyone follows us in.”

@tcket ;; pregnancy starters ( accepting! )

         “ can sybbie play in the garden? you can come too if you would like! ”

"I dread it." he admitted after a moment, shifting his gaze from his tea to his companion. "I feel as if I'll be forced into any marriage because of my circumstances."

For much of his life, he had been used to people feigning interest in what he had to say in order to get onto his good side. The Prince of Wales had few friends, and even fewer confidantes—it was impossible to acquire any with the army of sycophants by which he was surrounded. So, naturally, when the Earl of Grantham’s daughter expressed her apparent disinterest in his story about his gardening, Charles lifted an eyebrow. “Am I boring you, Lady Sybil?”