She needed Jeffrey, though, needed him to make real what she had forbidden herself to think for so long. It was something that he could do. He was a man, after all, and she was attempting to play a man’s game.
“My brother is one of the most ill-witted, blind people that I know… certainly you could manage to hide something like that from him. He will see what he wants to, and nothing past that point. Have you not yet noticed that he sees only your happiness, where I could see you beginning to wilt… being tied to someone so dull?” Jeffrey wasn’t wrong, his brother truly was one of the least likely people to notice that anything had changed.
“I cannot suffer it any longer… I cannot suffer his presence. I cannot lie with the King in his bed, unsatisfied, when I have known you? I will not be able to hide it from him. He will notice.” Her gaze dropped and her fingers slid free of his clothing to find her own dress, pulling the bodice of it up to lace the front of it tight once more. “If only I had married you instead…” Crouching, shakily as her balance had not returned and her nerves were still on end, she found the slipper she had lost. “If only you were the King, would it not be lovely? Had we been the pair instead?”
Her fingers found her own hair as she straightened back up, pushing the strands of it back away from her face before she wiped the dampness free from her eyes. He hadn’t spoken, though his eyes had followed her every move. “There are some times where I wished that I was the older sibling… or that on one of these hunting trips my brother might not return. Terrible though it may sound….” It seemed he had found his voice, “but nothing will come of it, beautiful one. These wishes are best kept close to heart… if the wrong person heard, it would be the end of any wishes or happiness you may find in life at all…”
She knew that. She did. There was a part of her, though, that would rather die than be chained to Harold for the rest of her life. Even if no piece of her actually wanted to die. There was so much to life she had yet to explore due to the shackles that bound her to her husband. If only she were freed. “Perhaps you are right…” The words were soft, entirely the opposite of what she was thinking, and yet genuine sounding. “But I cannot help but think the awful thought that everything would simply be better had you been in your brother’s position… King Jeffrey Karhardt…” There was a wistful tone to her voice, then, “first of his name, ruler of the Nordland and the Sundi Isles.”
Her head shook slightly, and she moved to slip away from the wall and find the stairs that had come down. “You would be a wonderful King, Jeffrey. Far better than your brother ever could be… all he wishes is to drink, hunt, and spawn an heir to the throne…” A foot found stone, shuffled against it as her weight shifted and a hand moved to find a wall, so she didn’t fall.
“I’d like to see you again, my Queen…” His voice chased her up the stairs, “like this…” Of course he did… he was as much a man as she thought he was.
“Perhaps… I am positively wretched at lying to your brother, though. Nor do I feel quite right knowing a man I am not wedded to.” Lies, all lies, but necessary lies. She could barely hear the trap snap closed as she moved up the stairs and crept from the doorway.
She did not see him again that evening, but she felt sure enough that he would find his way to her before Harold returned. When she lay in bed that night, there were no thoughts of dread or tears that caught at her lashes. Rather, she felt excitement for what she was orchestrating.
Perhaps it would end as she wished.
Laying there in bed, without the raucous sound of her husband’s snoring, she could feel herself drifting into a contented zone in between waking and sleep. A place where she felt wholly secure and happy with herself.
The deep groan of the door barely managed to get her eyes to open once again, but they did, and she glanced toward the soft glow of a candle being lit. A strike of panic moved through her at the thought of Harold being home so soon. Usually his hunting trips took at least a few days? She was not ready for him to be back yet? Everything was not fully in place?
But when her eyes finally focused in on the figure, it was not the overset and stumbling silhouette of her husband that she saw, nor was it one of her handmaidens. It was the selfsame body that she had seen in the dark what felt like moments ago but would have been hours upon hours ago.
“Jeffrey?” Her voice was tinged with drowsiness, but clear enough that she saw the man jump slightly before he approached the bed.
“Yes…” His voice answered as the candle was set on the bedside table, “May I?” He gestured to the bed she was curled up in the very center of. All of her pillows snuggled up around her as though to comfort her and keep her safe in her dreams.
“... Yes… of course?” Rolling, she moved further to one side and watched him seat himself.
He looked like he hadn’t slept at all since they had last spoken, and his eyes flicked away from her multiple times before coming to rest on her again. “I gave thought to what you said, earlier… “
Getting right to the point, were they? It had her blinking sleep from her eyes so she could sit up more and eye him with the most wide-eyed expression of innocence she could muster. “Which statement?” The blue of her eyes fair glowed in the soft light of the candle.
There was a pause, and then he cleared his throat and glanced down at his hands. “Did you mean it, when you said you wished that I was the King? That we… could be together?” He sounded far more unsure of himself than he had earlier. It was almost endearing.
“Of course I did? I would not lie to you… “Ironically enough, that was a lie in and of itself.
“Truly?”
A nod followed, the curls of her hair tumbling freely past her shoulders. He noticed this and reached forwards to catch up a lock of hair and play it between his fingers.
There was a moment of silence, thick and full of potential, as he thought… and then finally her breath escaped her chest as he said, “I know of a man, down near the docks that might be willing to do as you wish. If you have not… rescinded… your statement from earlier… I would meet with him tomorrow evening.”
Her delicate mouth dropped open slightly, surprise registering on her face. “Is it even possible, to… to do that? To a king?”
“Of course it’s possible, anything is really… you just have to know the right people and have enough money. Both of which I am fully capable of finding.” There was a certain matter of fact tone to his voice, even if he still sounded somewhat uncertain about what he was offering. There was a word for what he was offering.
Treason.
It was a word that would have them all swinging from the gallows in the beat of a heart if someone caught wind of the scheme.
“The only thing is…” There it was, the ‘but’ she was waiting for. Maybe she had underestimated his desire for what his brother had. “That I will only go through with such a plan… if you will be my Queen? The power looks so becoming on you…”
She licked her lips, widened up her eyes, and nodded hesitantly. “I would… I would be your Queen.”
A fleeting smile touched against his face before it disappeared. “Then I will go to the tavern tomorrow, to seek him out.”
“I want to come with you.” Her own statement stopped him in his tracks. It was very evident that he could not comprehend why she would want to do such a thing.
“You cannot. It is bad enough that the King’s brother will be seen at such a low place, speaking with such an individual. If the Queen were to appear in such a dirty hovel? I could not tarnish your reputation in such a way.”
“Then I will have nothing to do with this plot…” Her response came, quick as a whip. That shocked him too.
“But why? Why would you want to go someplace like that?”
“If I am to be a part of something like this, it will help me to know what is going on and who it is that is helping us. I do not like going into something blind. Will you please humor me with this request?” There was silence from him as he mulled this tho
ught over, but before he could have a chance to speak against it again her lips parted once more. “I could wear a disguise? Nobody would even recognize me?”
A few more moments of utter quiet ensued… and then he was nodding. “Very well, but you cannot ride your horse there. She is far too many parts palace horse. You will have to walk through the dirt and other questionable substances before we can find more common horses to ride?”
“Certainly.” Once again there was no resistance in her voice, no hesitation. She did not mind getting dirty. He was trying to get her to back down from the request, but she wouldn’t. She simply wouldn’t.
“Then, meet me in the cellar tomorrow afternoon, and we will disguise you and make off for the harbor.”
Before he left, he leaned towards her to brush a kiss against her lips. The excitement she felt tingling through them and into every finger and toe, lingering long after he had left her to sleep. When she did finally fall asleep, her dreams were light. There was nothing to weight them down, and she could hardly remember them when she woke.
Chapter Three
It seemed like that morning was the first in many that she rose from bed without complaint, and was dressed and eating her food long before she typically would have been. She swore some of the servants peered at her curiously as she passed them. It made her wonder how any of them had ever thought she was happy where she was.
But then, certainly, they would all be delighted to be in her shoes.
Her morning passed by in a quiet blur of activity, from needlepoint to meandering through her garden, but it wasn’t until she stood before the door to the cellar that she felt a knot twist into her stomach. Nerves making her hands shake as she opened the door, cast a look down the hall, and then crept down the steps.
The room was not dark, as it was the only other time she had been in it, so she could fully see the shelves, crates, and bags of varied foods that they kept. She scrutinized them as though they were full of intrigue before her gaze found Jeffrey and she paused mid-step to watch him.
“Are you ready?” He asked, most likely hoping that she would back down from her request. If she knew anything about men.
“Absolutely.” The single word was all she needed for her hands to stop trembling and find the cinch of her dress. The laces came undone easily, her skilled fingers making quick work of each clasp and string that held her dress together. It wasn’t but a moment of time before the material pooled around her feet and she stepped past, blinking at him and waiting to be offered the clothing he had brought.
After each scrap of dingy clothing made its way onto her body, she couldn’t help but glance down at herself and notice the bagginess of them. She had no form… barely even recognized herself. When the hood of her brown cloak was pulled up, she could have sworn she did not belong in the castle.
Jeffrey had brought a mirror down, too, so she could look at her face. The dirt he had smudged there completed the disguise. With her hair hidden under the hood and the dirt on her face, it was almost a stranger that looked at her through the mirror.
Neither of them spoke as they climbed the stairs back up to the real world and snuck off of castle grounds. A feeling of adventure swelled up in her chest, getting her to straighten up a bit as she walked. She could focus on no singular thing as they made their way through the dirty streets, towards the stables the commoners used. He told her not to speak, to act less high-born, so her eyes dropped, her nose wrinkled, and she suffered silently.
It seemed to take forever for him to procure two horses for them to ride, even if all he had to do was go in and drop a few gold pieces in the stable master’s hands. Reins were pushed into her hands, and she smiled slightly as she looked the dirty, warm chestnut-colored horse in the eyes.
Horses were so much more tolerable than people.
Giving him a pat on the neck, she moved to catch her foot in a stirrup and pull herself up into the saddle. Her back straightened a bit once again as she nudged her toes firmly into the stirrups and dropped her heels, hips rocking forwards slightly to get him to walk.
When she glanced up from her horse, she noticed Jeffrey eying her and her eyes widened just slightly. His stare was so implacable she had to glance over one shoulder just to see if someone was standing behind her, but then she realized that it was her he was focused on. It had her heart pounding out even as her fingers clutched the reins a little tighter. If he didn’t stop that people would notice her more, notice she wasn’t quite a commoner.
“What is it?”
Her voice was pitched low; it came out breathlessly concerned as though maybe he’d had a revelation that would put a kink in their entire plan or had seen something on her person that others would recognize her identity with.
“Nothing, simply looking…” His response was so simplistic it had her eyes narrowing in the slightest, annoyance tinging her expression as she watched him spur his horse forwards.
As she followed him through the city, deeper into the poverty ridden depths of it, she tried to keep her head down. The shadow of her cloak hiding her face from view, not that it seemed like many people scrutinized her. She felt rather invisible, even being up on a horse. It was a new feeling for her, considering she was used to eyes following her every move.
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts and observations that when Jeffrey slowed in front of her, she almost had to wonder why. But then her gaze rose, and she caught sight of the building they were in front of, scantily clothed ladies fair hanging from the balcony above. “Oh, my…” The murmur escaped her softly, and she nearly blushed.
“We’ve arrived.”
That had her eyes widening up all over again. She’d never been in an establishment where the men went to drink, let alone one where they not only paid for drink but for the company of women. It was almost scandalizing just being in the general vicinity of the place. The thought of going inside suddenly loomed dauntingly over her, intimidating her. Jeffrey didn’t hesitate like she did, though. He didn’t really give her time to think about it or procrastinate because before she knew it, he was off his horse and securing it to a hitch. His boots splashed carelessly through puddles, squishing into the mud as he walked up the wooden stairs and to the door.
It had her rushing to slide from her own horse, even if her feet sank into the mud beneath them in the most unpleasant way. She tied her own horse next to his and then gathered the edge of her cloak up as she made for the stairs as well. He had waited for her in the doorway, watching her struggle through the thick mud and the droplets of rain that had only just started to fall again.
Once she’d made it up to him, they both ducked into the building, warmth hitting her in the face the moment she crossed the threshold… along with the smells of alcohol, food, and bodies. Sweaty bodies. It made her nose wrinkle in the slightest as she glanced around, taking in faces and shadows. Since she’d managed to get inside the place, her curiosity had replaced the intimidation she had been feeling prior. The room was loud, more so than she’d expected. Outside the wind had carried the noise away, but now that she was inside the noise was everywhere, far more boisterous than what she was used to hearing in the castle. This wasn’t servants whispering around corners as they went about their daily tasks or gossip passed between ladies and spoken in hushed tones.
It was obnoxious, in the most overwhelming way.
It was the heavy clunk of overfull cups and the slosh of liquid, whether hitting against floorboards near her boots from a man who’d turned to spit or spilling over the edges of the tankards due to careless gesturing. The stomp of boots, the aggressive yells of competition, and the lack of propriety was more choking than the smoke that lingered in the air. It had a slight flush to her cheeks, the heat of the warmer air weighted from it in a way that had her almost skittish.
“Stay close to me,” Jeffrey murmured, tipping his head her direction so that she could hear him. As though she would have simply waltzed off on her own in a place like that.
&
nbsp; She didn’t answer him, but she did follow him to a table that was tucked into a darker corner, away from the thicker throng of bodies gathered nearest to the bar. There were several people there that she could imagine would assassinate someone for enough money, but she hadn’t noticed anyone with the wit for it. They all looked like daft men simply there to drink away their lives.
“Is he here? Do you know what he looks like?” The words escaped her lips as she peered over at Jeffrey and tucked herself into the seat in the corner, so she had a wall at her back.
“Of course I know what he looks like.” His response was abrupt. She could tell he was on edge, nervous, and couldn’t help but wonder why he was so nervous. At least he was a man, so it was perfectly acceptable for him to be there.
Her keen eyes tracked everyone that came down the stairs into the bar area and everyone who hustled in looking damp from the rain. There was an eagerness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before.
She was the first to notice the rugged looking man that was headed their way, as nervously vigilant as Jeffrey was. It was as though gravity had drawn her eyes to him. Maybe it had been the slight gleam of his dark red hair, it couldn’t have been the glittering of his eyes… she didn’t see those until he’d gotten much closer. They were a deep, shadowed green that almost looked brown until the light hit just right.
A voice somewhere inside her informed her that she was staring unabashedly, but her social graces weren’t entirely put together at that moment. It didn’t seem like a place where she had much need of those.
He sat at their table rather gracelessly, dropping onto a stool across the table from her and knocking his elbows against the hard wood of it as his arms came to rest there. It was likely he was the least mannered person she had ever come into contact with. Truly, she was astonished.
“You two don’t look much like you belong here…” The stranger’s voice was oddly appealing in its lower, almost gruff tone. He was right, though. The two of them probably didn’t fit in at all with the crowd.
The Campus Jock: A College Bad Boy Romance Page 92