"Of course." Denney said, seating himself without being asked. "I have come for a rather delicate issue.""Hmm." Alexander responded, picking up the bank statement for the foundation house and studying it. "I am willing to hear whatever delicate issue you have, but be mindful - I am not in the greatest of moods. Best be wary with your words and actions.""Of course." He coughed lightly. "I was very surprised to discover that you had sent a dinner invitation to Lady Wilmot, and I am more appalled that my invitation seemed to have been lost. I could not help but question your reasoning," Denney said. "Considering you had sworn that she would never again set foot on castle grounds." He paused. "Why did you do that?"Alexander did not lift his head. "Am I to tell you of all my dealings?""You misconstrue my words." Denney replied."I do not believe so.""What I mean_""Tell me," Alexander said, replacing the statement on the table and walking over to Denney. "Do you suppose your constant
Gwen nodded thoughtfully and slowly leaned on the fallboard. She was intrigued. A foundation house? Charity? The royal household was involved in charity. It was surprising. Alexander was a self-absorbed man who took pride in his crown and position, and he did not fail to remind everyone at every given situation. Except for his proper kingly duties, she did not think him capable of catering to others."You seem surprised." Alexander remarked.Did he notice her thoughts? "I do not." She said tersely. Then quickly added. "Does it cause any strain to the royal family?"Alexander hesitated, and Gwen saw that he was struggling to keep his laughter hidden. She was appalled."I should think not," he said, "or else it would be said that we are poor."She gasped, shocked. "That is not what I meant. I_""The foundation is in the name of the king," he interrupted. "But many help to sponsor it. Carlisle supports it massively.""Lord Carlisle? He is a good man." Gwen mused aloud. She thought of how
***It was unbelievable!Alexander could hardly comprehend what was happening. Guinevere was kissing him back, truly kissing him back. Yes, she had done so before, but it had felt strained, as if he had to coax her into it. This time was different. There was no hesitation, no reluctance. She was kissing him willingly, without his command.His heart pounded in his chest, and his blood warmed with a rush of exhilaration. The knowledge that she was responding to him with genuine desire sent a thrilling vibration through him. It felt as if all the tension and longing that had built up between them, built up in him that day, was finally being released."Oh, Guinevere." Her name left his lips before he could even realize it. He kissed her deeper, his eagerness pushing him to the edge, but he quickly slowed down, careful not to rush her and frighten her away. It was a battle with his will to remain calm while she was in his embrace, to restrain himself from kissing her as passionately as he
Guinevere was afraid. She was shaken, yet, it wasn't the recent events that troubled her most. She was scared of what had happened before, something she had fled from in the past and continued still to evade. Something that scares her to continue running."Guinevere…""Can I leave?" Guinevere interrupted. Alexander remained silent, watching her intently. Without waiting for his permission, she turned and started away."You are running!" He called out suddenly. And it was the truth."What?" Guinevere stopped in her tracks, turning back to face him. She was appalled."You are running.""I am not.""Yes, you are. You are running and have always been running.""Your words cannot provoke me to stay." She began once more for the door.That was not his intention. He rose and went after her. As she opened the door, he pushed it back, closing it. "Only a moment ago, you said you do not know what you feel. That you do not know why your body responds to me this way. I think you do.""I do not."
May 1827Brand stood on the deck of the ship as it approached the port, the salty sea breeze ruffling his long hair. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden hue over the water and the bustling docks. Seagulls took flight as the ship neared, only to settle on other waiting vessels and the rocks at the edge of the port.As the ship drew closer to land, he could see the figures of dockworkers, merchants, and other people acquainted with the port moving with practised efficiency. They were unloading cargo and preparing for the day ahead. The view was a well-orchestrated dance of labour that welcomed him at all times.Brand inhaled deeply, and exhaled as greatly, the salty smell tingling his senses. When the wind blew again, his hair responded, whipping around his face. He quickly bound it at the back of his head. Alexander would have a fit over how long it had gotten. The thought made him smile.He would never admit it, but he did miss his brother whenever he was at sea. Alex
The bustling and loud noise was not restricted to the port alone. The air around him vibrated with life, created from a symphony of sounds and sights. Vendors called out their wares, the smell of fresh bread and roasting meat mingling with the stale odour of rotting items consumed him. Children darted from corners, running past him and laughing as they played their games. He smiled at them. In their stalls, merchants and buyers haggled over prices, their exchanges adding to the noise.It was quite easy for him to move through the crowd; his tall frame provided a natural immunity to the jostling throng. Still, he would have preferred to walk the streets without the incessant noise.The cobblestones beneath his boots had been worn smooth by years of use, and the stalls looked as old as the market itself, their weathered facades bearing silent witness to countless transactions over the years. It hadn't been long since he was on land, so not much had changed. In truth, nothing had changed
But his behaviour was baffling. How could he act as if nothing had happened between them? She touched her lips. How could he so easily return from his travels and refuse to see her? She couldn't understand his indifference, and it both infuriated and saddened her.She did not care for his attention nor his lessons in weaponry and combat!She did not care if he listened anymore to her renditions!!It did not matter if he conversed with her or not!!!It was a good thing, was it not, that he stayed away from her? So why had she felt disappointed when he did not come to teach her about combat? When he did not invite her to the piano room, or bother to visit the room while she was there? She wanted him to listen to the recent music she had learned to play, and to receive his approval at her handling of the sword.Before his travels, Alexander had given her several music sheets, and while he was away, Gwen had practised diligently to keep her days occupied. She had poured herself into learn
The sun struggled against the clouds and won, casting a fleeting brightness across the burial place. Alexander took another sweep of his whiskey, his gaze drifting towards the headstone of his mother, Elodie. She had fulfilled her duty to the nation by producing an heir and forging alliances through marriage, thereby enhancing the royal lineage. That was all she had achieved. She had failed as a mother. His mother.She had let go of herself and her son because of the infidelity of her husband. He had lost both of his parents at the same time."Brand celebrates another birthday tomorrow," Alexander murmured to her headstone. He took a small sip of his whiskey, his eyes staying on the engraved letters on the stone. "He wants to have a small dinner, and I shall join in the celebration.""I cannot hate him as you did; he bears no fault in this. But as I swore on your deathbed, Lady Wilmot never took your place as queen." He paused. "Why did you choose to end your own life and leave me at