Thomasine's irritation hid her true fear. Fear her only son would fall victim to the same weakness of mind that ravaged their own father. Thomasine's fears were real enough, Faustine allowed. As she harbored those same fears for her own son.
"My dear, you've nothing to worry over. You know most of Papa's traits were in direct relation to a lack of self-discipline, self-worth, and strong values."
But Thomasine's resolve was weakening and Faustine did her duty in setting things back on their righted path. She drew herself up and met Thomasine, nose to nose. "I would like the same. He is my nephew after all." She waved her wand threateningly.
Thomasine's body sagged; she dropped her face in her palms. "What if this scheme goes too far and he actually marries the wrong one?"
"Trust, my dear, trust."
"Oui, oui. I suppose you are right." Thomasine lifted her head, her eyes filled with renewed determination.
Relief filled Faustine. She was right, Thomasine just needed reassurance they were following the set course for their future leadership of king and country.
"And put that stick away. You are going to poke someone's eye out with it." Thomasine spun on her heel and quit the chamber in a streak of dust, ever the regal queen.