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Beautiful Enough To Be Reckless
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HATING HER KING An Unfortunate Memory
Gwen could not believe her own audacity. What words was she saying?! "Let me alone, Lady Farrington. We can not survive together so let us live separately." She turned to the waiting maid. "Shall we, Paula?" Not waiting for an answer, she left."You will regret this I promise you!" Lady Farrington yelled after her but she did not care anymore.Paula ran after Gwen as the latter hurried to her bedchambers. What words had she spoken? She was beautiful enough to be reckless? Since when did she glory in her beauty? Since when did she care for it?And since when did people think of her as the king's mistress?!Without warning, she stopped and someone crashed into her, but it was of no concern.'…be my son's mistress.'Gwen turned, aghast, not by her maid's presence, but at Lady Farrington's words. Mistress?! She was a mistress?! How dare they think of her as one? Who was it that thought of her as one? She had been careful, had she not? Careful enough to avoid the presence of the king so as
HATING HER KING I Prefer To Sit Here
The serving maids tidied up the table, removing the remnants of roast duck, white bread, roast vegetables and the used plates and cutleries. Alexander dabbed his mouth with his napkin and handed it to one of the maids. Lady Farrington mirrored him, passing hers to the maid too.Gwen took a sip from her cup before letting one of the maids take it away. "Thank you." She muttered to the woman who had greying hair and was courteous enough to spare her a smile.As soon as the serving maids departed the room, Lady Farrington turned to the king. "Thank you, Your Majesty, for the wonderful dinner. It was amazing." She greeted as she had always done after every meal. "I must confess, your presence is such a welcome, albeit delightful change." She blinked shyly and smiled. "Much more than I had anticipated."Gwen struggled not to roll her eyes. Lady Farrington's repetitive expressions of gratitude grated on her nerves and she was to stay still at the time. Could she not think of other ways? It
HATING HER KING Play The Piano
***Her eyes were closed, her breathing was calm and her being was at peace.In the softly lit room, sitting, with Alexander by her side, Gwen let her fingers speak and she made her soul pay attention. Lightly, the music was birthed from the piano and powerfully, it came to her. Each note rang out clear and pure, filling the space with a melody that danced on the air like sunlight filtering through leaves. She was lost to the music, she was completely lost to its beauty.Playing the piano was more than just a skill for Gwen - it was a passion. It was the only way she could express herself. It was the only means she was allowed. With each chord she struck, she felt a sense of liberation, as if the music had the power to lift her spirits and transport her to another realm; to a much better realm.Her fingers moved with fluidity and grace, causing the music to swell and ebb, and a sense of joy washed over her. It was the feeling of contentment. Where she was or who was with her did not m
HATING HER KING Have You Ever Been In Love?
Gwen inhaled sharply, realizing she had. "I suppose."He chuckled. Then, "Can we agree, my dear, that this conversation of candour is preferable to your attempts to avoid me?""I believe my return to Westside Manor is a more preferable option."Alexander laughed lightly. "You're just as obstinate as Brand." He said, but Gwen disagreed. She was as obstinate as him. "I heard an intriguing rumour today.""What rumour did you hear?""I heard that you referred to yourself," he paused, "as beautiful."Gwen flushed, embarrassed. "That… that… was…" She cleared her throat. "It was in the moment." She had only said it to rebuff Lady Farrington and her words."It must have been quite a moment." He remarked. Gwen's flush deepened, and she averted her gaze. His voice lowered suddenly. "This is a promising turn of events.""What do you mean?""This." He murmured, brushing her cheek gently and offering her a smile. "I should make you flush more often."Alexander's smile disarmed her completely. Gwen
HATING HER KING Refuse To Think About It
***A knock at the door startled Gwen from her reverie. She had been sitting by the fire, staring at it since she came to the room. "Who is it?" She called.A voice from the other side responded. "It is Paula, My Lady.""Enter."The maid entered and bowed. "Good evening, My Lady.""Good Evening." Gwen replied. Then, "I thought you had retired for the night.""I cannot, not when you have not been attended to for the evening."Gwen took a deep breath. She was not helpless, and certainly not an invalid. She could attend to herself. She had been doing so for years. "It would not be a crime if you had retired before me. What if I had spent all night in the piano room? Would you have stayed the night up?"Paula shrugged. "I suppose."Gwen stared, realizing the maid truly would stay up all night, waiting for her. "That is not entirely right. You are free to retire to bed when you ought to. If ever I need your services after, I will call for you.""Alright, My Lady. I shall help you out of yo
HATING HER KING A Letter From Lord Denney
Jane Farrington sat comfortably in one of the plush chairs in her room, flipping mindlessly through a book as Sarah worked diligently to relieve her of the tension in her feet. Jane had no idea what book she was holding, nor did she care. It served only as a distraction while Sarah carefully massaged away the pain caused by her new shoes. The brown leather shoes, though elegant, had made her feet ache terribly. They were a gift from the king, sent along with the new dresses. She would continue to wear them until they adjusted to a more natural size, and if they hurt, Sarah would simply relieve her of the pain once again.The room was filled with a soothing quiet, the only sounds being the soft rustle of pages and the gentle murmurs of Sarah as she worked. Jane closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax fully. Clothes, shoes, the finest of food and his presence, she had it all and despite the discomfort, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and privilege. The king's gifts were a
HATING HER KING I Must Know All About Lady Fitzgerald
She tossed the letter onto the table and walked to her armoire. "Lord Denney told me that she is the daughter of a baron, and that is all I know about her." She said, her tone sharp. It was not enough. If she needed to send Lady Fitzgerald away from the castle, she needed to know more."Why would you bother yourself about her, My Lady? You are better than her in all ways." Sarah said.It was true, yet it did not matter. Not to the king. "The king thinks her to be, well, interesting. More interesting than me, and I am irked by it. I need to know more about her." She walked away from the armoire and decided to return to her seat. What was it about Lady Fitzgerald that was so interesting that she was second fiddle?Settling back down, she looked at Sarah and Cliff expectantly. "Think harder, will you?" It was not a request.Sarah adjusted the vase of flowers on the table. "Well, My Lady, I do not think she is happy to be here."Jane scoffed. "I refuse to believe that anymore." Who would
HATING HER KING Trying Too Desperately
Alexander held up one of the parchments but was not paying it any attention. He knew why he didn't want to leave for the trip. Guinevere.After she prematurely retired the night before, he had lingered in the piano room, trying to recreate her beautiful rendition. It was one and the same she always gave, it was the same one he had first heard on that fateful day when she had stumbled into the piano room.He remembered how she looked so engrossed with her piece it seemed nothing else mattered. The memory of her playing was vivid in his mind - the look of serenity on her face, the subtle movements of her hands, the soulful resonance of the notes she coaxed from the instrument. For another time, he would ask her to play a different piece. One of his, perhaps."Your Majesty," Edmund called, placing an enveloped letter before him. "This needs your seal."Without a word, Alexander pressed the seal of his office onto the hot wax Edmund had poured, not asking about the contents of the parchme
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