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Refuse To Think About It
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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
HATING HER KING Becoming The Nation's Queen
His anger at Lady Farrington had little to do with her and much more to do with the fact that Guinevere had left prematurely the night before. It irked him how disobedient she was, even if he admired it. After all, he preferred an opinionated person over a sycophant or, worse, a fool."Your Majesty, if you will," Edmund said, still by the table. "This is from Lord Michaelson and has been sitting here for almost a week. I believe he expects a response today."Alexander took a sip of his cognac. It was still morning and he was already drinking. "What does it want?""Your signature."He walked to the table. Taking up his quill once more, he signed his name, dropped the snifter noisily and stalked out of the room. A few seconds later, Edmund emerged, having tidied up the parchments. He hurried ahead to prepare the horse.As he passed by the portrait room, walking with more anger than grace, Alexander thought he saw a shadow, but he was mistaken.***Jane paused at the threshold of the din
HATING HER KING With Guinevere?
She closed the door behind her carefully, making the littlest of sounds as it clicked shut. The light from the hallway vanished and the room was plunged into a soft, intimate dimness, save the candles atop the fireplace. However, she did not move from her place by it, her silhouette was outlined faintly against the darkened space.Alexander sat on the edge of the bed, relaxed yet attentive to her presence. He was patiently waiting for her, biding his time. There was a raging urgency in the air and he let the tension room grow. It was heavy and crackled with every second that passed.He could sense her arousal. No, more than that, he could feel it. He saw it in the way she stood, heard it in the rhythm of her breath, the slight hitch that punctuated the silence of the room. Each breath she took seemed to draw him closer, and every one of his, responded almost immediately.His right hand slowly clenched into a fist. "Why don't you come closer?" he murmured, his voice a low, intimate whi
HATING HER KING Arguing Men
***The miners had gathered in the old stone church, their usual meeting place, when they arrived. Edmund pushed the robust creaking wooden doors open, and they stepped inside. The place was brightly lit and perfectly aerated due to the open windows. The men already had a heated discussion going on and their murmurs vexed the building itself.As he and Edmund entered, the intense discussion momentarily subsided, as they acknowledged his presence with curt nods and brief, appraising glances. The atmosphere was thick with tension."Your Majesty." They all echoed in unison, bowing low to him.Alexander walked past them and ascended to the elevated platform at the front of the church. As he took his seat, he made a slight wave of his hand and said. "Carry on." They did.He glanced around. Maybe thirty or more miners filled the small building. Every pew was filled and some men stood to the side. Their murmurs increased continuously until the tiny voices became a loud noise, discorded and a
HATING HER KING A Heavy Downpour
***The king's behaviour over the past few days had become strange.Gwen sat by the lake, gently trailing her fingers over its calm surface. She had not seen Reginald since he left them just before breakfast, but Paula stood a few paces away, silently watching her. Despite the fact that her attendants had been dismissed from her every presence, the maid had stubbornly refused to leave, staying by her side since the day before. Thinking now, Gwen realized that Paula had been by her side since the day Alexander had not.She exhaled softly, her breath creating a delicate ripple that danced across the surface of the water. It felt like a long time since she had not seen Alexander, their paths having not crossed since she had left him alone in the piano room two nights ago. Then, quite unexpectedly, Paula had returned to her side. Was she under a command? His command?Her fingers lightly feathered the water, before they broke the surface strongly, ruining her image cast on it.She thought
HATING HER KING Playing In The Rain
***The carriage came to a halt just steps away from the staircase, and Alexander hurried out, dismissing any formal displays or reverence from the servants. His ears finally could enjoy a blessed quiet. The sky had darkened rapidly as the clouds gathered, and the heavy raindrops had pounded wildly on the carriage roof. It had been deafening. As soon as Edmund alighted, the carriage careened away.Alexander brushed the droplets from his outer coat and walked briskly inside, heading for his room, away from the chill of the rain. "Send a bath and dinner to my bedchamber.""Yes, Your Majesty." Edmund replied hurrying ahead to make the arrangements.A warm bath and a hearty dinner would be a balm for his soul, perhaps he would finally be able to focus on his other duties.It was only five o'clock, but the day had already turned dark. The hallway had their lamps up, giving as much light as was needed, with long shadows cast on the marble floor. The relentless rain hammered against the clo
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