She doesn't really want you to understand her, she wants you to acknowledge that she was once a neglected Queen.
——Arthur Hastings, "Former Queen: Marie de Medici"
The emotions of the Duchess of Kent surged like a tide: "You know, Delina used to... rely on me so much. She couldn't even decide which pair of shoes to wear in the morning without me choosing for her. But now, she has Viscount Melbourne, the Duchess of Sutherland, and the entire Buckingham Palace. And I... I no longer know when the alarm clock by her bedside goes off."
Arthur nodded, not interrupting.
The Duchess of Kent continued speaking, looking up towards the distant garden, sunlight streaming through the leaves, the wind brushing past the tall windows of St. George's Hall.
She murmured, "I don't know when she started seeing me as a stranger. I used to choose the color of every pair of socks for her, lose sleep over every day's schedule... But now she's asking for dignity, for freedom."
