All Chapters of HATING HER KING: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Edmund bowed deeply. "My sincere apologies, Sire. It shall never happen again."He released a deep breath, working greatly to dispel the anger. Slowly, it dissipated and he released his clenched teeth. "Very well then. Prepare accordingly for Brand's birthday." He commanded. "It should be beyond grand, befitting his title and age. After all, it is not everyday a young prince turns twenty.""Yes, Sire." Edmund said. Alexander waved him away, and with a bow, he left the room.He kept his eyes on the closed door in deep thought. Perhaps he could wait. After all, she would be by his side for the longest of time, so he would wait. If he demanded that a ball be thrown in her honour because of a neck jewellery, knowing Guinevere, she would withdraw again from him and all would be in vain, so he would wait.Alexander turned to sit right on the bench, facing the piano. He played with each key, releasing a single note from them. Guinevere could be wilful, but he had more will and it had been su

The serving maids tidied up the table, removing the remnants of roast duck, white bread, roast vegetables and the used plates and cutleries. Alexander dabbed his mouth with his napkin and handed it to one of the maids. Lady Farrington mirrored him, passing hers to the maid too.Gwen took a sip from her cup before letting one of the maids take it away. "Thank you." She muttered to the woman who had greying hair and was courteous enough to spare her a smile.As soon as the serving maids departed the room, Lady Farrington turned to the king. "Thank you, Your Majesty, for the wonderful dinner. It was amazing." She greeted as she had always done after every meal. "I must confess, your presence is such a welcome, albeit delightful change." She blinked shyly and smiled. "Much more than I had anticipated."Gwen struggled not to roll her eyes. Lady Farrington's repetitive expressions of gratitude grated on her nerves and she was to stay still at the time. Could she not think of other ways? It

Gwen inhaled sharply, realizing she had. "I suppose."He chuckled. Then, "Can we agree, my dear, that this conversation of candour is preferable to your attempts to avoid me?""I believe my return to Westside Manor is a more preferable option."Alexander laughed lightly. "You're just as obstinate as Brand." He said, but Gwen disagreed. She was as obstinate as him. "I heard an intriguing rumour today.""What rumour did you hear?""I heard that you referred to yourself," he paused, "as beautiful."Gwen flushed, embarrassed. "That… that… was…" She cleared her throat. "It was in the moment." She had only said it to rebuff Lady Farrington and her words."It must have been quite a moment." He remarked. Gwen's flush deepened, and she averted her gaze. His voice lowered suddenly. "This is a promising turn of events.""What do you mean?""This." He murmured, brushing her cheek gently and offering her a smile. "I should make you flush more often."Alexander's smile disarmed her completely. Gwen

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

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