Alexander chose to indulge her excitement, but Carlisle was glaring still. "I am tempted to hear what your imaginations are, but I'm not keen on the glares of Carlisle here. He probably thinks I am in the act of seducing you." Her jaw dropped. This time, he chuckled. Oh, she would be easy, he gloried. "Enjoy your stay then."
"I thank you for this opportunity. We promise not to impose." Was she so righteous? Or was it a ruse? One thing was certain; her timidity would not sit right with him. What did Carlisle see in her to want her as a friend, as he claimed? "Why not?! Carlisle does it as much as he can. My Castle is open to all that choose to adhere to my rules." And all who can bear to survive my tease. He added wordlessly. Again, she bowed. "Then I must thank you for your hospitality." His humourous side was greatly appeased. He tittered. "A sweet talker, won't you agree, Carlisle?" but a timid one. She would bore him soon. "A great hostess you must be Lady Beth." And indeed, he was weary of her polite conversations. His eyes went to the fair maiden that stood to the back, her curious eye roaming the room, drinking in as much as it could. A beauty. "Which of the ladies are you?" First she looked to her sister, but she wouldn't dare disobey a king. "Gwen. Guinevere Fitzgerald, Your Majesty." She said, her voice soft, yet sharp enough to be heard. His lips pulled slightly to the left. "Guinevere." A beautiful name, a lovely voice and a comely face. "It is a beautiful name." "That is most kind of you, Your Majesty." Besides himself, Alexander gave into his laughter. He laughed so gaily and wondered to himself how her words were funny. Now, this one was entertaining. "I am many things, but kind?" Laughter echoed out of him again. "Don't trouble your thoughts, I am not. I have never been." He looked back to Carlisle. "They are quite an amazing bunch, are they not? It seems I will enjoy their stay as much as they will." And he intended to. His line of sight found the golden-haired lady. Guinevere. Jealousy! He saw it on Carlisle's face, unknown and unattended. And he dared name Lady Fitzgerald as a friend? Alexander scoffed and smirked. It was vivid that she was anything but. "It has been a long day for the ladies." The jealous Duke said. "Of course." He quickly agreed. Raising his voice a pitch higher, he ordered Edmund "Have them escorted to their rooms." "If I may, Your Majesty." Lady Fitzgerald called their attention. He lowered his eyes to her. She was smaller than most women in statue. "Forgive my insolence, but can I ask that we be allowed to share a room?" He turned his neck, his smile vanishing. "Why? Do you suppose the rooms here are not as grand as the ones at Carlisle Crest?" Her eyes widened. "No, Your Majesty, I didn't mean-" She was in his trap. "Oh, the rooms at Carlisle Crest are not grand?" His eyes went again to Carlisle and he of course remained with a fierce glare. Alexander was not the least bothered. "I thought they were." "They are, Your Majesty." His interest was piqued. She knew of the rooms at Carlisle Crest? "I suppose they are." The fun was gone. She didn't know. Oh how he would have dwelt on her words! "By my words, I only meant that I would prefer to have them in my line of sight. It would be safer." Foolish girl! Again, she ensnared herself deeper. "Perchance," He walked down to her, dwarfing her with his height. They all held at least an inch or two with their heights to hers, he noticed. "Are you suggesting that the Castle won't keep them safe?" She gasped. It was of fear. "I would never think such, Your Majesty. I didn't mean to accuse... I-I…" Her eyes lifted to Carlisle, seeking help. He would not let her. He hadn't had his fun yet. Damn Carlisle and his burning glares. "Why are you looking to Carlisle?" He stepped closer. She moved back. "I must say you are quite brave, accusing in such an honourable manner." "No, Your Majesty, they…they tend t-to be mischievous sometimes. I only-I only meant…" "Alexander." Carlisle suddenly called, a sound warning in his voice. Alexander was surprised. He kept his eyes on the trembling lady before him but his heart went out to the man who stood by them. He had called him by his given name. After so long, he would refer to him as a friend rather than a king. He still was immobile. The crown had set him aside from all, gave him absolute authority and absolute loneliness. His brother would rather be at sea than in the castle, or on land with him. And Carlisle, he almost sighed, would never relate with him as a friend should, not unless he pressed and pushed, demanding it. The throne was truly a burden, a burden he carried with stoic resignation. Amidst the trappings of power and authority, he found himself yearning for the simpler days of their childhood, before either came to full power of their birth, when the familiar call of Carlisle held more meaning than he dared to admit. Despite the privileges bestowed upon him by the crown, he remained isolated, a solitary figure adrift in a sea of responsibilities. His brother would rather be at sea than in the castle or on land with him, offering little solace to their familial bond. The gulf between them widened with each passing day, leaving him to navigate the complexities of rulership alone. As for Carlisle, he sighed, knowing how greatly he held onto their friendship. His status provided him a lot, but Alexander had attained more with his wits and resilience, never letting go of all he wanted and counted as his. He would continually press and push, demanding for them, never stopping until they were his. Carlisle had warned him, like a friend would. He stared down at the lady and decided to put her out of her misery, he was bored either way already. "Lady Beth." Slowly, she raised her eyes to his and he smiled, regaining his composure after being momentarily thrown out of it. "What an easy creature you are." He bent his waist to meet her eyes at the same level. "How would you survive around me? For I deeply enjoy to tease." She exhaled sharply. "No, Your Majesty, I-I failed to se-see your intent." He scoffed. Empty words. "Quite interesting." "Keep her from your list, Alexander." Carlisle demanded, walking over to stand between them. He was not the least concerned about the tone, though he was enjoying it. Carlisle seemed not to know of how easily he called him now. Alexander's heart rejoiced. "Very well." He said, agreeing to the demand. She was boring anyways and she was Carlisle's. He sent his eyes to Guinevere who stood so meekly behind and smiled when he caught her eyes. "I'll tease someone else then." She had a glint in her eyes that showed how innocent and interesting she would be, at least, until she bored him too. He climbed back to the throne. "I'll have you put in one room as per your wish." And he was done with her. "You should retire; it has been a long and emotional day, no?" "Thank you, Your Majesty." She said. With eyes still on the feeble lady, Carlisle asked. "Is your brother to be in attendance?" Alexander smirked. A distraction? Oh, there was no need for it, he did not care much for Lady Beth. "I sent out a note. Edmund, have them stay in the best room in the west wing." "Yes, Your Majesty." As Edmund led them out, Alexander's gaze lingered on the young Lady Fitzgerald, Guinevere, until she was completely out of the room. Her beauty caught him and in her eyes, he saw questions? She would be more entertaining than her older sister. He looked at the older sister and saw a flicker of emotion in her eyes. Was it fear? She was afraid. In her gaze loomed the apprehension of being separated from Carlisle. Curiously, he looked to Carlisle and couldn't help but notice the protective yet yearning expression on his face. Observing the scene, Alexander couldn't suppress a cynical scoff. It was evident to him that trouble loomed on the horizon, poised to descend like a tempest from the heavens. The signs were unmistakable - the brewing tension, the unspoken desires, the vein to finally challenge him as of old, all portended a storm waiting to unleash its fury. Indeed, the skies were poised to open, unleashing a deluge of chaos, of that, there was no doubt. It was simply a matter of when.Brand attempted another parry, anticipating Alexander's attack from the left, but his brother's cunning and expertise in swordsmanship proved to be a formidable challenge. Instead of following the expected trajectory, Alexander swiftly changed tactics, manoeuvring to Brand's right side. Caught off guard, Brand left himself vulnerable, providing Alexander with an opening and he took advantage. With a perfect move, Alexander swung and his blade made contact, grazing Brand's upper arm and drawing blood. Brand let out a yell of pain, instinctively retracting and clutching his wounded arm. "God dammit, you bastard!" Alexander let his sword drop to his side. "Watch your words, you speak to your king." It was ironic how he was being called a bastard by Brand. "I speak to my brother." His eyes narrowed with an intense glare. "Who happens to be your king." Then, "Raise your sword." He commanded, raising his, ready to fight again. Brand flexed his shoulders, stealing a brief glance at his
As they walked past the wall outside, flanked by verdant bushes, Alexander's gaze fell upon the two ladies awaiting the one whose help had been rejected. In a fleeting moment, his attention was fixated on the golden-haired figure, Guinevere, as beautiful as her name. Unlike her sister and cousin, she possessed a distinct allure that piqued his curiosity and she possessed no semblance to them.Observing her, he noted the way her eyes darted down when they bowed. Alexander stared on until they met his gaze, and impulsively, he smiled at her, continuing on his way. Whatever it was about her, he would find out. Brand walked ahead of him, still clutching his arm.Alexander didn't bother to look back at the fair lady, but for certain he knew, if Guinevere had approached him, offering to tend to his wound, he would not have rebuffed her assistance.***Gwen and Lucy lingered by the wall outside, waiting patiently for Beth's return. The tournament had ended, with the King emerging the victor,
"What do you know of weapons?" Lucy, always a pragmatist, interjected with a chuckle. "Gwen, what do we know of weapons?" Gwen bristled slightly at Lucy's skepticism, her desire to prove herself simmering beneath the surface. "I may not be a master swordsman," she replied evenly, "but I know talent when I see it." And she knew about swords. They were a form of protection. A companion to defence. A carrier of safety. With a sword in hand, she could protect and defend herself. And if need be, she could cause harm to all who frightened her, chasing them afar off and seeing that herself a secret her family was never again brought to humiliation. With a sword, and the knowledge of usage, she could protect herself, and her family, Gwen thought Lucy almost tripped, but caught herself in time. "What about the Duke?" She asked, stealing a sly glance at Beth who was trailing behind them, deep in thoughts. Whatever her reason for asking such a question was thwarted. Beth was greatly caught u
Running his other hand over the head of the chair, he calmly said. "I do not care whatever lies between the de Nocrosses and the Cossingtons, but I don't appreciate you bringing your personal family issues into my home." Carlisle turned and walked to the window. What was it about windows that always called to him? Alexander wondered. Once or twice, he had stood with him and the same things remained outside; people and more people. "I would not stand for it, Carlisle." He said, loud enough to be heard, low enough to command immersion.Turned from him, Carlisle said. "There are no issues between us.""No?" Alexander stood upright. "Not even the fact that you delayed your marriage to his sister and brought another woman along as your guest?" Carlisle's eyes remained out the window, refusing to respond to him. He pressed on. "Not even that?""There are no issues between us." Carlisle reiterated.The doors opened and the servants came in, walking in rolls, bringing along different dishes t
The walk to the dining hall felt akin to a march towards the guillotine for Gwen. Each step weighed heavily, without purpose or enthusiasm. Had the invitation to dinner not come from the Duke and if it was not a dinner with the King, Gwen would have refused outrightly. The prospect of sharing the same space as Lord Cossington filled her with dread, yet she had no choice. It was now beyond her and she would have to endure it.As soon as the servant who had informed them of the prepared table exited the room to wait outside, Beth had turned to Gwen, urging her to refuse the invitation if she felt unable to attend. She offered to excuse Gwen by feigning illness on her behalf. However, Gwen had hesitated, partly because she did not want to cause her sister any unnecessary worries and partly to avoid rudeness towards the Duke of Carlisle and the King of her country.Slowly, she trailed behind Beth and Lucy, as they followed closely behind the servant. The hall was a great distance from the
"But that will place me below Sir Georgestons." The same lord who had spoken before pointed out."Lord of Waichester, here there are no ranks, only men of like mind gathered for a meal," the King declared, his tone taking on a more relaxing edge. "While I might have chosen another seat, I am particularly partial to this one." His demeanour softened as he added, "Now, please, take your seat, and let us enjoy our dinner together. The food is growing cold."As everyone found and settled into their seats, wearing expressions of forced solemnity, Gwen slowly approached the table, searching like the others for her name card. When she finally found it, she was dismayed. Her name card was at the far end of the table, greatly removed from her sister and cousin, and positioned directly across from the king.Why had she been placed so far from her relatives? How would she survive the evening without their support and reassurance? Slowly, she walked to her assigned seat and carefully planted hers
"Our fathers were once close friends," Lord Cossington began, his voice measured. "But our families' relationship has since soured."A wave of relief washed over Gwen and unintentionally, she released a breath of air, her erratic heart momentarily calming down. He did not move to disgrace her. She hastily grabbed her cup and emptied its contents in one gulp. When she set it down, the minister seated beside her kindly refilled it. She bowed slightly, thanking him. He gave her a slow smile and she quickly looked away, feeling a pang of discomfort."I see." remarked the King, his attention still focused on his meal. "It's a pity about your families falling out." He continued to saw away at the meat on his plate. "Have you truly let go of any lingering feelings?"Gwen froze."Lingering feelings? There are no lingering feelings, Your Majesty." Lord Cossington replied tersely."Good," the King mumbled around a mouthful of food. His eyes went to Lord Cossington. "I would hate an altercation
Transfixed in place, Alexander stood by the door and watched in silence as Guinevere's fingers danced across the keys, releasing a beautiful tune that enraptured him, making his ears somewhat rejoice. Careful not to disrupt her, Alexander quietly entered the room and continued to observe Guinevere's performance.Her eyes were closed and she flung her head backwards, he saw the smile come alive on her face, her lips stretching to accommodate it. She painted a picture of pure bliss and he was deeply drawn into the enchanting scene. Alexander felt the sound coming from the keys ripple through her being, and by extension, he let it sing through his own bones. And as each note reverberated through the room, he felt a connection form between them, as if the music itself were weaving a bond between their souls. It was a fine tune, devoid of sorrow yet imbued with a solemn beauty. It filled the air with a sense of joy and Alexander found himself smiling to it.When the final note ended and Gu
Alexander grunted loudly, his body lurching forward. He sat up at once, grabbing a hank of her hair, blinded by passion. He was gasping for air. With her tongue, Guinevere scraped and laved at him, pushing him higher, closer to that cliff's edge where he knew she intended to take him. She pulled back, and rubbed her thumb over his tip. He moaned savagely, his control unravelling, as he now was at the edge. At once, he moved, and she was beneath him, in his arms, with her hair sprayed out and her eyes regarding him with lust and danger and love, breathing as heavily as him. Under the moonlight, she shone like something divine, radiant and marvellously breathtaking. In that instant, he knew with certainty, she was everything he had ever desired. No one else could ever hold his heart the way she now did. He was entirely, irrevocably hers. Was this the perfect view of the world? Was this the perfection of the world? If it was, then the world - his world - was the most perfect. He
***Guinevere led him, and he followed, trailing behind until they reached the grove – his secret place. He stood at the edge, where she had left him, watching her. She laid out her shawl on the ground and pulled the pins from her hair, tossing them away, moving with such grace, her gown fluttering about her like a whisper carried on the night breeze. Alexander inhaled when her golden locks tumbled free from their confinement, cascading down like liquid sunlight.Above them, the branches swayed in the breeze, responding almost as violently as his body did to the sight of her. Her jewellery glinted softly in the silver light, while her hair shimmered in its glow. She moved toward him, her eyes locked with his, and his heart became erratic. He wished the moon would shine brighter, so he could be thoroughly lost in the depths of her eyes – those enchanting blue pools. In that instant, he realized that more than her golden hair, he had come to love her eyes. He loved how she looked at him
September 1827Alexander's fingers mimicked hers on the opposite side of the piano, its deeper tones providing a rich contrast to the lighter melodies from her side. Soon, he eased away, and she smoothly transitioned from duet to solo, her touch effortlessly commanding the keys.Their guests watched, and she played.It was a ball to celebrate the change of seasons. Fall had finally arrived as did the harvest, and it was tradition to celebrate it. There had never been such a celebration since Alexander became king, she was told, as he had long abandoned it. Gwen had been eager to revive the tradition. They had gone hunting during the day, and now, held a feast to celebrate. She was relieved to see that he was, despite his protest, thoroughly enjoying himself.They had left the main ballroom for the piano room, where still, some guests followed.She was enjoying herself as well.For days, Alexander had patiently and consistently guided her through the complexities of the nation's affair
***Gwen lay in the quiet aftermath of their lovemaking, her body still thrumming with the fervour of their union. Slowly her breathing came to her and she could breathe again. Afterwards, sanity drifted and met her in Alexander's bed. She began to realize that she had just experienced passion – with her husband!Naked in his arms, her cheek nestled against the warmth of Alexander's chest, one hand resting on him. His arm was draped possessively around her, with one of her legs caught between both of his. His hand sat on her bare waist.Her smile came.Good gracious! She had made love to her husband, and it was the most extraordinary feeling she had ever known. She was drifting with ecstasy, her heart swelling with love. Slowly, she licked her lips and shyly raised her eyes to Alexander's face.He was watching her, regarding with a tender expression. Her heart leaped wildly. His deep blue eyes darkened, searching hers."You seem pleased." He murmured.Gwen knew she flushed. She was pl
Before she could protest further, he picked her up, and she shrieked at the sudden movement. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as his hands went firmly to hold her buttocks. Beads of sweat formed on his temples, his blood heating with desire. He started for the bed.As they sank onto the mattress, he flung the sheets aside and positioned himself between her legs, his lips immediately finding her neck. He kissed the sensitive spot just above her collarbone, and down to her breasts until his mouth closed around a nipple.Her breath caught as she arched upward, unknowingly pushing herself to him. He agreed and continued, sucking slowly, again and again, and pulled."Ooh." She gasped and collapsed back onto the bed. When he kissed the space between her breasts, she giggled."Do I make jest?" He asked, aware of how rough his voice had become. His need for her was explosive, and he wondered if she understood the effect she was having on him. He kissed beneath her left breast,
***Gwen sank into the settee, and Alexander followed, sliding closer to her. His eyes ran the expanse of her body slowly from her head down to her waist, and she felt herself softening under the intensity of his look. His eyes burned with passion and desire."You do not know how you look right now."She averted her gaze, her toes curling beneath her night garment. "How do I look?"Alexander gently lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. His dark brows lifted. "I shall never tell. It is my secret." Then, with a grin, he kissed the tip of her nose. She clenched her hands, breathing out sharply. He paused. "Are you scared?"The fire in his eyes was blazing, and she no longer spoke of the reflection from the fireplace. His tone was casual, but the question was not in the least. He was serious, and she knew it.Gwen blinked, slowly relaxing her grip. "There is nothing to be afraid of." She said, meaning her words. They pleased him.Alexander moved even closer, his voice dropping. "
"Close the door behind you." His voice reverberated through the chamber, deep and commanding. Gwen shuddered and not from fear.She exhaled slowly, her erratic heart leaping with a strange, pleasant feeling. She was curious now of what was to come. Underneath her night garment, a warmth began. Her thoughts briefly wandered to that day in her bedchamber, when he had touched her on the table. She flushed, surprised at herself.Slowly, she closed the door. "Is it not rude to leave our guests to themselves?" Her voice was quieter than she had wanted.A breeze drifted through the room, rustling the open curtains. Alexander emerged from the chair, bringing a candle with his rise. "I am the king," he replied, "my authority grants me the right to be rude." He set the candle atop the fireplace and turned to face her. Gwen swallowed hard.He had only his dress shirt on, having rid himself of his jacket and waistcoat. The top buttons were left undone, revealing his bare chest. Gwen's eyes were d
One week later.The air was thick with the mingling sounds of chatter and gay laughter, and the clinking of glasses controlled every breath. Elegantly and warmly dressed guests sat to dinner and topics of conversation were never in lack. Lord Michaelson and a couple other gentlemen raised their glasses in a raucous cheer. Lady Carlisle giggled to something Carlisle whispered.It was well past 7 p.m., and though the wedding had ended hours ago, the wedding dinner was anywhere but. Alexander sat at the head of the table, sawing absentmindedly at the slab of meat on his plate. He picked the tiny piece and shoved it into his mouth, only to realize he had eaten a tomato. He did not care. His thoughts were elsewhere. And so were his eyes. They were fixed on Guinevere – his wife.He was openly gawking and he gave no care.Her smile was effortlessly charming, her appearance impeccable. She commanded the space about her and her presence filled the room. She sat at the other end of the room, ca
***The doormen eased the door open, and Gwen slipped inside as quietly as she could, giving a small nod to Edmund and Paula. They bowed in return. At the far end of the room, Alexander sat on his throne, his elbow resting on the armrest, his head leaning into his hand. She had come to recognize the posture all too well. He was brooding.Since the moment Gwen had awoken, thoughts of Alexander had filled her mind, and as soon as she learned that the proceedings had ended and he had dismissed the court, she felt an overwhelming urge to be near him, to ensure he was not consumed in the thoughts of his sentence, and to offer whatever comfort she could.It was great that she had come.Gwen moved slowly, closing the distance between them, silently placing one foot before the other. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and her hands clenched involuntarily.The large room was unusually dark, even for the afternoon, and far colder than the weather warranted. Why had the curtains bee