Semua Bab HATING HER KING: Bab 111 - Bab 120

***As soon as Alexander stormed into his room, he marched furiously to the table and swept everything off it, sending books, papers, inkpots, trinkets and an empty brandy glass crashing to the ground in a chaotic heap. Unsatisfied with the destruction, he kicked the nearby chair, watching as the pitiable furniture flew across the room and hit the wall with a loud thud. Seething with anger, he grabbed a bottle of wine from the side table and hurled it into the fireplace. The bottle shattered into a thousand pieces, and for a brief moment, the flames roared angrily before settling back to their normal flicker. Yet, the fire within Alexander did not dimmer.How dare she? How could Guinevere strike him at his most vulnerable spot, using his greatest pain against him? He had confided in her, trusted her with his deepest wounds when he was at his weakest, most vulnerable, and now she had turned that trust into a weapon. How could she be so heartlessly cruel? And then she had the audacity t

Beth could see how distressed her sister was and realized she was not in the perfect state of mind. She seemed not to have slept. "It is fine. I suggest you lay down for a moment and collect yourself.""I do not wish to lay down.""But you must. Look at you, you are downright flushed and I must believe you did not get an inkling of sleep last night. Do not refute me and lie down." Gwen obeyed. Beth gently helped her lay down, putting the cover over her. "Do not think much of it. If you cannot tell me, I must believe it troubles you greatly." She stroked her head soothingly. "Sleep now, I shall sit with you until you awaken."Gwen lay back, tears still in her eyes. "Forgive me for not being able to tell."Beth shook her head and smiled softly. "There is nothing to forgive, yet, I wish you would not suffer alone." She rubbed her forehead. "You should have sent letters as you promised or replied to the ones I sent. I swore not to leave you alone, but what could I do when you did not seek

***Gwen woke up slowly, in stages, as if she had been given a heavy dose of laudanum, several of them even. Perhaps she should have been, for a terrible headache pounded in her temples. She opened her eyes, blinking against the dim light, and tried to sit up, but found herself too tired to do so. Her limbs felt heavy, as was her heart, weighed down by an inexplicable fatigue.What was happening?What time was it?Where was she?Her eyes roamed easily and she calmed. She was in her bedchamber at Mainecroft Castle. She weakly brought her hand to her forehead and rubbed there, hoping to alleviate herself of a pinch of the headache.The room was warm and somewhat dark, despite the daylight filtering in through the light curtains. She could see the muted glow of sunlight, indicating it was still daytime, but it felt distant and surreal. A fire burned carefully in the sculpted plaster hearth, casting flickering shadows that danced on the walls. The ceiling above her seemed to spin slightly

*** After they returned from the parade, Gwen had sat briefly to tea with her mother and her sister, before leaving for the tailor's shop on Alexander's command for her wedding dress measurements. She stood in the middle of the grand lavender-scented dressing chamber, surrounded by mirrors that reflected her from every angle. The tailor, Mrs. Hopeston was a meticulous woman with a thin frame and sharp, discerning eyes. She was wearing a light brown dress, with her hair tied tightly to the top of her head, as if daring it to escape. In one hand, she held a silver measuring tape, which she unspooled with a practised flick of her wrist. She circled Gwen slowly. "My Lady, , if you would please raise your arms." Gwen complied, lifting her arms slightly. And remained still. Mrs. Hopeston began with her shoulders, working and moving quietly, almost mechanical, as she recorded her measurements in a small leather-bound notebook. "You have a most graceful form, My Lady." She commented

But Guinevere continued to shake her head. "I cannot." She murmured.Alexander's face tightened. Must she persist in riling him? Provoking him as she wished? Did she expect him to beg? He had already asked her father for her hand, and marry him, she would.He stepped back, creating an insignificant distance between them. "You can and you will," he declared. "Because this very day, next week, we shall be wed at dawn. I command it."Silence. Then, "This is the reason I fear to marry you." Her voice echoed. Alexander flinched, his hands dropping to his sides.What reason did she have to fear him? What had he done that was so unforgivable? He had provided for her every need, given her gifts she never even requested. Countless times he had longed to hold her, to kiss her, to simply be with her, yet he had refrained himself for her sake, refusing to pursue his own desires that he would not trouble her. He was utterly desperate for her, yet she feared him?"Fear?" The word was a whispered br