"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 in my home." As Lord Cossington's gaze shifted from the King to the Duke and then to the Prince, Gwen couldn't help but wonder about the events that had transpired after she had left Beth in the corridor. There was certainly something significant there, something she was not privy to. Possibly something she didn't want to know about. Lost in thought, Gwen felt the minister beside her nudge her with his elbow. "Soup will do you no good, My Lady, unless you mean to faint later," he remarked, taking a piece of meat from his plate and placing it in hers. "Eat this, and gain a bit of strength." "I am content with my soup, Sir," she insisted, but he paid her no mind, adding yet another piece of meat to her soup. "Women often claim they are perfectly fine only to swoon in the hands of the closest man," he continued, a hint of amusement in his tone. Was he insinuating that she might faint in his arms? "Believe me, Sir, I am in no danger of swooning. I am perfectly fine indeed," she reassured him, but he persisted. When he touched her hand in an attempt to hold it, Gwen flinched away as though scalded. Just then, the clacking of cutlery against glassware echoed through the room. "Ladies and gentlemen," announced the king. "It is a delight and a privilege to have such beautiful faces at our dinner table, no?" Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room. "Let us, in good faith, raise a toast to the lovely ladies: Lady Beth, Lady Lucy, and Lady Guinevere." Like everyone else, Gwen rose to her feet and lifted her glass in a toast. As she did, her eyes met the King's, and for the third time that day, he returned her gaze with a smile. *** Days after. As Alexander stood on the balcony, his gaze traversed the expanse of his estate. He stood, acting as though observing the crowd below, but his attention was singularly focused on a figure amidst them all – a vision of radiant beauty that captivated his senses. The object of his unwavering gaze was none other than the enchanting golden-haired girl. Guinevere. She stood with her back to the stables accompanied by her sister and their cousin. All three were engaged and consumed in animated conversation and laughter. From his vantage point, Alexander couldn't tell the specifics of their dialogue, yet the infectious joy radiating from her was unmistakable. Impulsively, his lips pulled to the side in response to her laughter as his eyes threatened to burn through her skin. Although he remained a silent observer, Alexander couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth at the sight of her happiness. Despite his stoic demeanour, Alexander could not shake the notion that the colour of her attire, a vibrant yellow replica of the morning sun, did not suit her ethereal beauty. In his opinion, a dress of darker shade, like royal blue or purple, colours to oppose the fairness of her skin. Yet, even in the seemingly mismatched ensemble, she exuded an undeniable charm that rendered her utterly captivating. She somehow made it perfect. As the sun bathed the landscape in golden hues, casting a warm glow over the scene below, Alexander found himself entranced by the sight of her. In that moment, he realized that true beauty transcended mere aesthetics, and that she possessed a rare quality that made even the most unconventional choices seem perfect in her presence. From the moment she had walked into the courtroom accompanying her sister and Carlisle, he had been captivated by her beauty. As she stood now, bathed in the soft morning light, and away from the yellow glow of the night lamps, her features seemed to radiate with an ethereal glow, captivating his gaze once more. Recalling the other evening's dinner, where he had given himself the opportunity to stare at her as long as he wished. Seated her across from him, he had noticed her shifty eyes, running between the Lord of Sorway and her sister. Cossington swore nothing stayed between them, but he would be a fool to believe. Whatever it was, was no concern of his, all that concerned him was Guinevere who refused to exit his thoughts. "I must have her." Alexander suddenly decided, murmuring to himself. Maybe afterwards, he would think less of her and her beauty. "Did you say something, Your Majesty?" Edmund asked. Alexander had forgotten the man was still present. He ignored him, keeping his eyes set on the beautiful lady. And a true beauty she was indeed, even more than her relatives. And she was not the one Carlisle was interested in. Good! As he continued to look, he saw her excuse herself from the company of her relatives, and began to walk in the direction of the castle. Alexander moved. The desire to see her in the full light of day had long been lingering in his mind, but she was constantly in companionship with her sister and their talkative cousin. Now, with her finally alone, he would seize the opportunity to approach her. There was something about her, and he was beyond determined to find out. "Do not come along." He said to Edmund, who was about to follow him. "I do not need you for this." "Yes, Your Majesty." Edmund bowed as he left. Alexander wasted no time searching for her, and there was no need to. One place alone she would go to – their assigned chambers. If only Lady Fitzgerald had not asked that they stay together, Alexander reckoned he would have had the chance to converse with her a long time ago. As he sauntered down the corridors, swinging one of his hands, a faint melody reached his ears, emanating from the piano room. His feet stopped immediately and his curiosity was piqued. "What the hell?" He cussed. Abandoning his resolve to go to Guinevere, Alexander marched to the piano room. 'Who had deemed it fit to defile his command?!' He hastened his steps, determined to punish whoever had dared to lay hands on the instrument he considered sacred. The pianoforte belonged to him, and the thought of someone else trespassing upon it stirred a possessive instinct within him. The melody grew louder as Alexander approached the room, fueling his initial anger. He was more annoyed at how beautifully the offender played, than the fact that they were playing. Should he have them flogged for treason or thrown into the dungeon? He would show no mercy, he thought to himself. However, as he reached the door, his irritation dissolved into astonishment. There, before him, was Guinevere—the very object of his thoughts. She had come to him. Albeit unknowingly, she had ventured into his sanctuary alone. It was perfect.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
"Your performance upon the piano forte." He nodded towards it. "It was amazing." Then, "Would you be so kind as to grace me with another rendition?""Your Majesty?"The King's eyes held hers. "Guinevere, I want you to play for me again." He commanded.Was he punishing her? Was that why he asked her to play again? She couldn't possibly! "Your Majesty, I would never step foot in this room again." She swore.The King stepped away from the wall, walking over to the piano forte. As he approached, Gwen's heart raced with anticipation, unsure of what to expect next. She watched in rapt attention as he reached out to brush his fingers lightly across the keys, eliciting a soft, melodic whisper from the instrument.The sight of him at the piano forte sent a shiver down her spine, and she couldn't help but admire the graceful way in which he moved, his presence commanding yet strangely captivating. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, seeing the king engaged in something so intimate and person
Gwen rushed to join the waiting party. After she had escaped the conversation with the king, she had moved with more speed than grace and had gone to get the shawls which was her primary assignment. Despite the sunrays, the morning air remained chilly, and with the cold wind blowing, Beth would start to turn pink and that was the reason she had gone to get shawls for her, for them all. She never thought of encountering the king or getting herself entangled in the odd conversation. Now, she hastened out of the castle, fleeing as though danger was right behind her."Where have you been? How long does it take to fetch some clothing?" Lucy, echoing Aunt Marrily's demeanour, approached Gwen as soon as she was within earshot."I got a bit turned around." Gwen fibbed. She couldn't possibly tell that she had ventured into the king's piano room and ended up in conversation with him."I had a feeling. The castle is great and mighty!" Lucy responded excitedly, taking the blue shawl from Gwen and
After a few moments, the king broke the silence, directing his man. "Edmund, would you be so kind as to accompany and entertain Lady Gallagher? I wish to explore Guinevere's company alone."God, no! Gwen refused in her head, her heart sinking. She dreaded being alone with the King. His presence made her doubt herself and filled her with anxiety. "Your Majesty, we should stay together." She protested, hoping to avoid being alone with him."I mean nothing by it." He assured, but his smile held a different implication. "I promise to return you unharmed, to quell any concerns your sister may have.""But, Your Majesty…""Edmund, tell Lady Gallagher of the stories of the moors and the history of the castle.""Yes, Your Majesty." The kingsman replied immediately. Of course, he could not refuse. "Shall we, Lady Gallagher?"With a short smile, Lucy commanded her horse after Edmund, the faithful and obedient servant. "Do enjoy the ride, Gwen." And they were off.How was she to enjoy it?! She wa
"Guinevere is a truly beautiful name, have I not mentioned it before?" His tone was soft and his remark, contemplative.He had. Gwen nodded slowly, recalling previous instances when he had addressed her by name. "I mean, you address me as if we were acquaintances." In truth, he had extended more familiarity than mere acquaintanceship. "As if we were friends.""We are friends. Any friend of Carlisle is a friend of mine." The king asserted, his horse nudging hers playfully as if to emphasize his point."But I am not a friend of the Duke; it is my sister who shares that bond with him, not me." Gwen pointed out."Then we should uproot that obstacle. From this day forth, we are friends, Guinevere." He declared, his words carrying an air of finality.Gwen was momentarily stunned by his proclamation. Was it not proper to ask for a hand of friendship rather than declare it so boldly? In the brief time she had known him, she had observed the king's tendency to assert rather than negotiate. Was
Gwen flushed with embarrassment, recalling the unexpected appearance of the fox earlier. "That fox appeared out of nowhere." She called out, her cheeks burning with humiliation. "I was more surprised than scared.""I have said nothing at all." The king offered over his shoulder and continued to walk away with a casual air of indifference. Feeling a surge of frustration and annoyance, Gwen turned away from him, her jaw clenched in silent frustration. She couldn't help but wonder if their brief encounter had been worth the effort, or if she had simply fallen victim to the king's inflated ego once again.The sun's rays danced upon the surface of something shimmering in the distance, and the reflection drew Gwen's attention. There was a passing waterbrook, winding its way away from where they stood. Its tranquil flow mesmerized her, and she went towards it.Entering perfectly into the king's secret place, Gwen found it was small and covered all around by a canopy of trees. Like a well-gua
"Today was the first time in a long while I heard a piece from that piano." The king's voice betrayed the stillness.As his movement disrupted the serene atmosphere, Gwen's fingers instinctively grasped the fabric of her dress, a nervous habit betraying her unease. "I apologize again, Your Majesty, for using our pianoforte without your permission." She murmured.Resting his hands behind his head, the king regarded Gwen with a curious expression. "And again, I say your piece was beautiful." He smiled. "Who is the composer?"A soft smile graced Gwen's lips as a reply to the king's and as she fondly recalled the origins of the piece. "My mother." There was warmth in her voice. The king's eyebrows quirked in question, prompting Gwen to stifle a laugh. "Our mother has an affinity for all her children," she explained, her eyes alight with affection, "and she knows our preferences and predilections.""Does she now?" He mused.Animated, Gwen continued. "Very well." With fondness, she thought
Beth walked briskly into the washing room, busying herself with the task at hand. She was bent over the fabrics, engrossed in sorting through the old linen and faded draperies, unaware of being watched. Gwen lingered by the doorway, quietly observing her sister as the latter worked with as much joy as one who had been awarded. Beth's joy in the task was palpable, evident in the gentle curve of her lips as she methodically organized the fabrics into their appropriate baskets.As Gwen watched Beth's contented smile, she unintentionally returned it, still, she couldn't shake the feeling that her sister's mind was elsewhere. Despite the focused gaze fixed on the fabrics before her, it was apparent that Beth's thoughts were distant, lost in a realm invisible to Gwen's scrutiny. What was she thinking about? What was in her head?Ever since they returned from Rosethorn Hill, Gwen noticed a subtle yet undeniable shift in her sister's demeanour. Beth was more energetic and would gladly do all