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Lord Featings's Madness
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HATING HER KING Daring The Crown
Alexander's humour faded. He felt Brand's eyes on him but did not turn, keeping his gaze on Featings. The man must have lost his head to speak of Guinevere in court. He leaned forward, resting his elbow on the armrest. "Speak on, Featings. I am beyond curious about the tales of these servants."The ignorant man continued. "They speak of how she is your mistress, and to my thought, I find it shameful and improper for a mistress to flaunt herself so openly in the castle. Mistresses belong in secret places."A shadow fell further over Alexander countenance. His stare did not waver nor did Lord Featings earn any iota of sense. He exhaled slowly, determined to remain mannered."Featings," Brand called. "I would advise you to properly check your words."Alexander caught the slight exchange between Lord Featings and Lord Denney. The subtle nod propelled the former to continue on the path of destruction.Lord Featings once again turned to Brand. "If the king has granted me an audience, it is
HATING HER KING Rage
No one moved.No one spoke.No one even dared to breathe loudly.Alexander kept his hand on the knife, feeling the warm blood running down his hand. When the loud cry finally ceased, he said furiously, "There is one thing that sets us apart - your low birth and my high position. One thing sets Guinevere apart from you: my protection, which you momentarily lost, and my everlasting guardianship over her. You would not speak so recklessly of me, not in my absence and definitely not in my presence." He clenched his teeth, enraged. His hand twitched, wanting to twist the knife, but he restrained himself. "And do not, for the life of you, speak so lowly of Guinevere, else your head will pay the price for the carelessness of your tongue."His eyes blazed with anger. How dare the man speak ill of Guinevere? How dare he even mention her name? Had he granted Denney too much freedom? Perhaps it was time to assert his authority, putting the man in his place, family ties notwithstanding."Let this
HATING HER KING What Woman Could Possibly Reject You?
Lady Fitzgerald was the daughter of a land baron with humble means of living, whose sister had married Carlisle only the year before. How had she managed to captivate his brother, to cause a turmoil to a man who had never cared for anything else except him and the kingdom? He was not jealous of Alexander's growing affection for the lady. After all, Alexander was king and needed to produce heirs, and it would be all the better if it was with a woman he shared affection with, but he was confounded nonetheless.When they had visited the castle, Brand had noticed Alexander's behaviour toward the lady to be more than mere teasing. He was almost certain that, for her sake, he had convinced Carlisle to marry the elder sister after compromising her.He watched him now, seated across from him. His brother had never been known to hesitate when he wanted something. He was like an unrelenting greyhound. Why hesitate now?"I hold you in the highest regard, but I will not stand for you to be spoken
HATING HER KING Watching The Training Men
Alexander groaned as he stirred awake, the dim light of dawn filtering through the heavy curtains. His head throbbed with a dull ache, a wicked reminder of the previous night's revelry. The taste of stale wine lingered on his tongue, and he winced as he tried to sit up.Blinking against the light, he pressed the heels of his hands against his temples, trying to massage away the persistent headache. His memories of the night before were vivid - his dimly lit study, the over service of wine, anger, and loneliness.He swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting his feet on the cold floor. The chill sent a shiver up his spine, momentarily clearing his foggy mind. Taking a deep breath, he tried to steady himself, pushing past the discomfort. He needed to pull himself together; there were matters to attend to, and he couldn't afford to be seen in such a state. He was king.Alexander reached for the pitcher of water on the bedside table, pouring himself a glass with unsteady hands. He
HATING HER KING Do You Covet The King's Throne?
It was the prince."Your Highness." Gwen saluted, bowing low."I do not believe we have been properly introduced. Brand Williams." He said."Gwen Fitzgerald, Your Highness." She replied, bowing again."Highness," he whispered, his right eye blinking. "I very much prefer to be called Brand."Gwen blinked, confused. How could he ask her to address him in such a manner? "I could never call you that.""It is my given name. The king calls me by it.""He is your brother. I am not." The prince's right eyebrow hitched. Gwen quickly reprimanded herself. "Forgive me. I meant to say, I am not the king." She corrected.Was the prince looking to stir up trouble? Alexander had asked her to call him by his given name, and months later, she had been brought to the castle against her will. What would the prince demand if she obeyed him? She was not curious enough to find out."I am not so highly placed to call you by your given name, Sir." She added."That is true." He hesitated. "It is simply a matte
HATING HER KING Attributes Of A Proper Lady
Lady Fitzgerald laughed. "I do not rejoice in destruction; I only applauded your skills and talents." Then she raised her cup to her lips and, after a sip, returned it to the table."I'd say you applaud far greater than is necessary." Lady Farrington said, bringing her cup again to her lips. "Do you seek appraisal for your applause?""I most certainly do not!"Brand's mouth tightened, his instincts intrigued. "You think my skills do not deserve that much applause?" He asked.Lady Farrington quickly sat up. "Of course not. I was simply reminding Lady Fitzgerald to take control of her emotions."He saw no wrong in Lady Fitzgerald's emotions. It was honest at the least. "Men hail each other when we shoot.""Shooting is a sport amongst men, Your Highness." Lady Farrington continued. "As is politics and governance. Women tend to the household and bear children. It is as much as they should do."A serving maid brought him a cup of water. He took a light gulp. Lady Farrington's words were co
HATING HER KING Insanely In Love With Lady Fitzgerald
"What, then, is a proper lady to you?" He tapped his hand on his thigh, consciously blinking both eyes. "A proper lady is one who is true to herself," Lady Fitzgerald said. "one who is not always bound by the rules of society, but manages to obey them."Brand stiffened, unpleasantly surprised. He did not know what to think or what to say. She was a rebel, just like Alexander."Forgive my words."He found his words. "One should never apologize for being candid." Then, "Are you a proper lady?"There was hesitation. "I believe I am."A smirk began to form on Brand's lips. "Is Lady Farrington a proper lady?"She hesitated again. "I believe she is."Brand's face straightened. He had been sporting for an argument. "You believe so?"Lady Fitzgerald nodded. "Propriety comes from the person who believes they are proper. That is how the standard began."Brand stared, finally seeing her appeal. It was not her beauty, nor her clever words. It was her thoughts and how she represented them. There
HATING HER KING There Was No One To Depend On
Guinevere was bewildered. Her eyes widened, then a sweet smile surfaced, reflecting his own. "As enticing as that may sound, I do not want to be a traitor to my country." She replied with a shrug. Then, "I hate to be powerless.""But all men are powerless." Alexander said softly. She had rendered him powerless since the day she came to the castle, stealing his joy unless she was near."I hate to feel powerless." She looked afar off and corrected. "I despise knowing how powerless I am."He nodded carefully. Guinevere was undeniably smart, her intelligence shining through in her eyes. It was acceptable to feel powerless at times, but it was utterly unacceptable to remain so. He would grant her all the power she needed, and would teach her how to use it. Never again would such feelings plague her.Alexander rose to his feet. "Pick up that knife." He instructed, pointing to the knife on the table, his voice calm yet commanding.She did, rising to her feet as well. He watched her intently,
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