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
Alexander suddenly realized how silent the place had become. There were no flying, creeping, or running creatures. There was nothing. Only himself and Guinevere, standing on the old trail, with the rest of the world so far away.He dropped his hand, and she licked her lips, her breath shuddering. How easy it was to excite her. Blood rushed to his crotch, and he felt a sudden warmth wash over him.Guinevere's eyes were on him. "I have been practising." She said into the silence he had created, her voice shaking, her lips quivering."Practising?" he murmured."Yes. With the sword, and at the piano." Her throat moved when she swallowed. "Every music sheet you gave me. I have been working diligently at them."He nodded. "I see." He did not care for either at the moment."I am quite fortunate, I must say. They are some of the best compositions I have ever had." Her words were in a hurry. "Although, in truth, they are the only compositions I have ever had other than the one from my mother,
Gwen's hand was perfectly caught in Alexander's as they ran up the stairs. Her hair, disordered, with mud coating her boots.He had fallen asleep on her shoulder, and since she could not carry him back, Gwen had laid him down on the grass and lain beside him. They remained there until the rain forced them to return to the castle."Your Majesty?!" Edmund exclaimed, rushing out to meet them, bringing an umbrella with him. "I would have fetched you before the rain, but I had no knowledge where you were."Alexander ran past the kingman, pulling her with him. "You are generously lucky for the lack of that knowledge." He said to Edmund. As soon as they got under cover, he stopped. "You are lucky indeed." Though he spoke still to Edmund, his eyes were on Gwen. She flushed.The drunken haze from when she first found him had vanished, and the serene expression he wore while asleep was lost. In its place was the arrogant and commanding look she knew so well."I love it when the colours come ali
Gwen scoffed and closed the distance between them. Despite being younger, she towered over Lady Farrington, and by a good amount. "Then I would suggest you instruct your maid to seek truth rather than indulging in tastiest gossip." She remarked coolly, her eyes threatening. With that, she walked past her. "And while you're at it, ask her to cease spreading rumours, it is becoming unsightly. I am not you, and I have no desire to be the king's mistress. There are better ways to live one's life." Lady Farrington blanched. "Paula?""Yes, My Lady." Paula responded, following her into her bedchamber and shutting the door. Soon enough, through the closed door, they heard a loud, frustrated groan from Lady Farrington. It brought a chuckle from Gwen's lips."I should not speak so boldly, Ma'am," Paula said tentatively. "but I applaud your manner and management of her."Gwen's gaze wavered. "I should not have spoken so boldly either." Lady Farrington was not the easiest of people and her words