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Bendicks yawned as he padded downstairs, looking forward to a peaceful nap in front of the main fireplace. Unlike his human compatriots, he had little to dread about Christmas Day: he was spared the traditional Christmas walk, and the surely ensuing humiliation that was to follow. As a dog, he could do as he pleased.
"It's not fair," Beatrice continued her tired refrain as Bendicks sauntered past her, paying the girl little heed. It was plenty fair that Bendicks didn't have to be subjected to such banalities, he was, after all, the glue that held the family together. At least, in his esteemed opinion. "If Bendicks doesn't have to go, why do we?"
"Beatrice! I am tired of explaining to you that Bendicks is a dog and you a Princess," Pups sputtered. "He has no expectations laid at his feet."
"This is stupid," she scowled. "Look at how happy he is."
Bendicks caught a glimpse of himself in a shiny vase. He did look rather pleased. He stood for a moment, admiring his visage.
"Happy?"
"See!" Beatrice accused. "He's smirking at us!"
Bendicks had to admit that he was.
Pups knelt down so that he was at his level. "You ought to not rub it in," he informed him. "Can't you enjoy your kip by the fireplace without gloating? I don't think it's too much to ask."
The Duke continued to lecture, though who he was directing it to was beyond all of Bendicks' knowledge. Surely he wasn't trying to tell him how to behave? He'd thought that he'd trained behavioural expectations out of both of his owners.
"I mean it, Bendicks. I don't want to come home from Christmas mass to find out that you've gone off and savaged an errant butler, or helped yourself to the goose, or decided to open a snifter of brandy. If you aren't going to stay in our quarters, you have to conduct yourself in a manner suitable for a York. Do you understand me?"
He yawned, exposing all of his teeth to the expectant Duke. Bendicks had better things to do than tarry about indulging others. It wasn't his fault they were expected to put on airs and associate with the public. No one appreciated when he associated with the public. All he'd done was bite a handful of commoners, who'd assuredly deserved it.
As for the goose? Well. Bendicks would admit to having absconded with a Windsor dinner once or twice in his years, but he wasn't a fan of consuming that type of poultry.
"Drew, I don't think he's listening to you," Mumma interjected. She was the only one involved who actually wanted to go on the walk to church, an opinion that baffled both the entirety of the members of the House of Windsor who were present and Bendicks himself. Bendicks had thought that he'd taught Mumma better, to properly know her worth, and was rather disappointed to find out that she was willing to play nice for the sake of her marriage. "Bendicks, are you going to behave yourself while we're at the service?"
"He always behaves himself," Eugenie defended him. "He wouldn't have to savage and destroy things if everyone else would just listen."
Beatrice nodded. "Euge is right. Bendicks just wants everyone to behave properly. Isn't that right, Bendie?"
Bendicks rewarded her with a lick. The gleam in the Duke's eye did not escape him, though it did Beatrice and Eugenie.
"So, you agree? That Bendicks would behave splendidly if we all decided to behave properly, follow the rules? Attend the church service without complaint, because it pleases your grandmother, who happens to be Bendicks' Queen, in addition to our own?"
"Yes…" Beatrice hesitated. "But, Pups, I thought that Granny might not attend the walk. I heard her say that she was going to fake sick."
"Did she?"
Eugenie nodded. "Yes, she said that she wasn't certain the Christmas walk was appropriate whilst she was still mourning her husband. Remember how cross Bendicks got during the funeral plans?"
"Oh, it won't be Bendicks getting cross with Granny," he replied. "It will be me. If I have to put up with Charles and Diana's constant barbs at each other and pretend that my father didn't die in the cumulation of an unfortunate act in a bed that was not his marital one, if we have to play at being a happy family while she lounges about in the castle – well, I have news for her. She was the one who insisted that we partake in this farce, she most certainly will be present. Thank you for telling me, girls." He paused. "Bendicks? Come."
"Drew! Why do you need Bendicks to come with you to speak to your mother?"
"Do you wish to be the one who comes with me?" He asked. "I mean, Sarah, if you wish to be the one who convinces my mother to act like a monarch and not a five year old, you can be my guest. I simply wanted to spare you her reaction to being told what to do. Bendicks has a heartier constitution for such miserable work. Why the other day, he encouraged Charles and Diana to stop chucking antique crystal at each other!"
Because Bendicks had sent one of them flying down the grand staircase, of course, not because he'd become married to principle and reason.
"Oh, fine. I guess he's probably probably better at getting the point across."
Bendicks, ever dutiful, gazed up the aforementioned grand staircase. He wondered: would this be the day he bit a royal? He longed for the opportunity. The corgis always got away with it.
Edward stormed down the stairs. "And–"
"I know," he informed him. "I'm going to handle our mother. Again."
"Thank you," he sighed. "She's refusing to listen to reason. Anne and I have both tried."
"Well, neither of you have the practise of having to navigate life with petulant princesses. Bendicks and I will handle it. He's quite keen."