Queen

by Daya Daniels

  We are only permitted to offer prayers to the people and our smiles.

  Who can smile when nothing but death and desolation surrounds us?

  I make the mark of the Holy Cross against my chest and keep my head bowed, settling into prayer once more, repeating the words more fervently, hoping that if I speak them with even more conviction, just maybe God will hear them. Hoping that maybe he would free our beloved England from this wretched curse…

  Soft footsteps in the distance make their way close to where I kneel. I don’t need to peek to know that they belong to Sister Rebecca, so I wait for her voice to nudge me out of my incessant pleading to God.

  The pew behind me creaks.

  “Perhaps another time, Sister Rebecca.” The deep voice crackles through the comfortable air.

  My head lifts to find Sister Rebecca scurrying away and the hem of her white robe kicks up with her rapid gait. I do not dare twist around because I know who lingers just behind me and in the next pew.

  I mustn’t forget…

  Because we have been here before.

  Just like this.

  At a time which seemed so long ago…when I was a much different woman.

  Almost broken perhaps.

  Now, I am different—more focused, more patient and much, much stronger.

  I glance sideways. “It makes no sense for you to be here, Alexander.”

  A grunt is all I get in response.

  “I have planned to spend the rest of my afternoon in prayer.”

  Another grunt.

  I bow my head and settle back into prayer.

  “It has been months, Briar…” A breath leaves him on a gush.

  I silence.

  “I had hoped you would return to me.”

  Facing ahead, I allow my eyes to settle on Jesus Christ as he hangs from the Holy Cross. “I have gone nowhere, Alexander. I-am-here. I am a permanent resident of Berkhamsted Castle. Have you forgotten?”

  He laughs.

  I do not.

  “Please do not humor me with sarcasm, Briar. You are fully aware of what I am alluding to.”

  Everything this man surrounds me.

  I do not need to even take one glance at him to know how stunning he must look sitting just behind me in that way he always sits—tight jaw, perfect hair, incredible eyes…Dear God. I should not look. So, instead of chancing a single glimpse of him, I focus on the breathtaking architecture of this church. The bright and colorful stained-glass windows surround us and the pungent scent of lemon oil slips into my nostrils. This church is pristine this morning. It is much too holy to house people like us…

  I exhale.

  The pew creaks.

  Shifting of a heavy weight as it steps over the pew and into my row. Thick fingers settle at my nape. And soft lips drag over my skin.

  The affection steals all sensibility from me.

  I shake and shiver, but I do not move from my position.

  “You cannot deny how I affect you, Briar.” His lips skate over my skin, teasing, breathing.

  I remain silent.

  “Why do you deny such things?”

  “Because I wish to be a woman of God…”

  A soft kiss is pressed to my skin.

  “Because I wish to be a woman of service.” I twist around to face him. “Because I do not wish to be just another woman in your bed, Your Majesty.” My eyes blaze into his.

  Instantly, those eager fingers retreat from my skin, and with a few blinks, I swear he stops breathing.

  Alexander

  I’VE BEEN SLICED right down the middle…

  Struck in the face with the might of her words.

  Hurt.

  Hurt.

  Hurt.

  I’ve been mortally wounded!

  Have we not gone over this already?

  Do I need to show her more?

  She commands me—a king!—to make a desperate fool of myself?

  My jaw sets tight.

  Peering down in her face, I rise, slowly, urging her to do so with me.

  Craning her neck to look up at me, apprehension ripples across her delicate skin and her hazel eyes become bright with fear. I dip down until my face is right in hers and our lips are almost touching.

  We share breaths. Trade desires. Exchange unspoken words.

  My chest heaves.

  Briar balks as much as I will allow since her arm is secure in my grip. “I am sorry.”

  Looking away from her, I gather my composure, easily able to see how a woman like this one just might be able to drive a man far away from his wits… “Have I not already shown you what it is that you wish to see?”

  Letting her go, I back away and take heed of her speechlessness.

  I gesture with an arm. “You have been given all that you need, Briar.”

  She nods.

  I bury a finger in the middle of my chest. “I have given you all that you need.”

  Her beautiful eyes well up with tears. “Yes.”

  Yes?

  A fist tightens around my heart. “I am a king.”

  “Yes, I am aware.”

  My tone softens. “I must marry soon, Briar.”

  A tiny almost inconspicuous gasp leaves her mouth. “Why are you telling me this?”

  I am not able to contain my growl, so I let it out like an angry beast. “Whyyyyy?”

  She straightens up and her features hold nothing but offense in them. “Yes, why?”

  I only blink.

  She stares.

  And suddenly all my intentions seem to strike her right in the soul all at once.

  “Alexander, you cannot marry me?” Her scowl is severe as she regards me, and in the same instant, a tear rushes down her pale cheek.

  I do not like it when she cries!

  “I am not a virgin. I am not of royal blood. I am just an orphan. I have lain with your brother. I have lain with King Hayden.”

  She dares to tell the truth…

  And now I fucking respect her even more.

  Soft sobs leave her. “I have lain with your father.” She repeats it all as if I hadn’t heard it before.

  I say nothing.

  “I have lain with your brother.”

  I say nothing.

  “And your mother…”

  What mother?

  “Your mother hates me…” She nods over and over. “She hates me.”

  I

  say

  nothing.

  Because she hates me too.

  Her head hangs low. “I shove away all my feelings for you, Alexander…”

  So, the Rose Princess has feelings for me…

  A smile curves up on my lips, but it is quickly washed away by Briar’s falling tears.

  “I shove away everything that crawls its way around in my heart for you because I know that we are not a possibility.” She wipes a hand over her wet cheek. “I am sullied in every way imaginable. I know I would only ever be a woman you drag to bed, have your way with, and discard. That is all I would ever be.” She sucks in a breath. “And I don’t wish to be that. If I must be that, Alexander, then I would rather not have you at all.”

  Shaking my head in silent disagreement, another growl of frustration leaves me.

  “Alexander, I could never be your wife. I could never be your queen.” Her chest shakes with sobs as she rips herself apart. “The very notion of it all is just ridic—”

  My fingers flex before my hands bunch into fists at my sides. “I AM A KING!” My roar bounces off the stone walls.

  Briar snaps out of her weeping and takes a step back.

  “I can do what I bloody well want!” I point a finger at the stone beneath my boots. “This country is mine. I RULE! These are my laws! The people answer to ME, Princess Briar. I LOVE THIS LAND!” My voice lowers. “And I love you.” My confession springs from wobbly lips.

  Briar’s chin lifts as if completely
shocked.

  What the fuck?

  HOW COULD SHE NOT KNOW!

  For all that I have done…

  For all that I have given her…

  For all the allowances I have made to make her happy…

  How could she not know?

  Because her head is buried in her goddamn flowers much of the time…

  “Alexander…” The way she says my name…

  It is a plea on her lips.

  A beckoning call.

  Perhaps, a desire to push me away too.

  With the gesture of a hand, I silence the marvelous woman standing in front of me. “I wish to love you, fully.” My eyes bulge with the words. They shut and then they open. “But, I am a king.” I must marry.

  Her brows collide.

  “I am a king.”

  “Alexander.”

  “Silence.”

  She does, immediately, at once.

  I allow myself to breathe and to calm.

  Because this is what she does to me…

  “I am a king.” With the terse shake of my head, I burn into Briar’s eyes with my own. “And a king does not beg. I-will-not-beg.” Turning on my heel and setting one boot in front of the other, I march away from the woman I love, leaving parts and pieces of myself—the ones I truly need in order to survive—beneath her beautiful embroidered shoes.

  Briar

  DAWN HAS BARELY BROKEN…

  We are nearing the end of fall.

  Sister Rebecca and I had already been in the village to pass out roses and gift families with prayers. I wipe my wet cheeks which are sore from the constant friction of my palm soaring across my skin.

  Beyond these walls England is in tatters, still.

  And in the last few weeks Berkhamsted Castle has once again welcomed visitors. Archbishop Ramsey had traveled all the way from Rome to speak with the King about matters no one else is privy to.

  The council chamber is often filled with men only who speak for hours on end about the future of England—land divisions, the nobles who are out of control and who kill each other fortnightly for rights and titles. They discuss the effects of the Plague which has ripped through our lands and has taken more than one hundred thousand men, women, and children with it. The men in the council chamber converse each day, yet nothing really changes…

  Life here has been much the same.

  Alexander has been occupied.

  I have not seen him, and he has made very little effort to even glimpse my face.

  Shall I blame him?

  Zaccai is still in France off chasing his true beloved.

  And Vesper is still here by my side, thank God.

  I press a hand to my chest feeling my coveted ghost orchid there which is still wrapped in its handkerchief. Each time my palm meets the fabric, I say a little prayer to myself and force a little more hope into my heart.

  I am beyond denying what is there for a man I know I should not love.

  It aches.

  It hurts.

  I focus and bring myself back to the present…

  My heart hammers in my chest as I rush through the wide corridors of Berkhamsted Castle, moving as quickly as I can but the weight of what I drag behind me slows my efforts exponentially.

  I must move faster.

  Move faster, Briar.

  Forcing one foot in front of another, I drag the heavy chest behind me, growling as I do. Sweat slicks my brow and my hair has become a mess. I am grateful that this corridor is empty just as I need it to be. But the guards will be making their rounds soon.

  Move faster, Briar.

  One more tug and the chest slides along the stone floor.

  “Briar.”

  My head lifts and my eyes find Vesper’s where she stands at the end of the corridor.

  “What on earth are you doing?” Her face twists.

  Heaving for breath, I stand straight. “Well, don’t just stand there.” I gesture toward the chest. “For God sakes, help me.”

  Vesper rushes toward me, hem of her dress held tightly in her hand as she does. Once she makes it by my side, she grips the chest and tugs.

  It slides and slides with our effort.

  Her narrowed eyes fix on me.

  I avoid them and focus on the dim light creeping through the windows. The sky outside is gray as always and all the green comes into view. A little smile touches my lips to see the drawbridge down after it has been up for so many months. The moat which surrounds this castle is filled tip high with water from the recent rainfall. And just above the keep, a falcon swoops around in the sky before it disappears from my view.

  Beyond the walls of this castle, it is splendid.

  “Come on, Vesper, pull faster.” I double my efforts.

  She does the same. “What is in this thing?”

  Sister Rebecca has asked me the same question when we returned to the castle this morning…

  “Something precious.” I do not give Vesper another look.

  “Where did you get it?”

  “From the village…”

  “Briar, you are fully aware that you are not to bring anything back to this castle from the village.”

  “Yes, Vesper, I am fully aware, and that is precisely why we must move faster.”

  We tuggggggggggggggggggggg.

  “Okay.” Questions dance around in her eyes as she tugs right along with me.

  “I hope that whatever is in this chest is worth throwing your bloody back out for.” She grits her teeth.

  “Oh, stop complaining and pull.” My fingers grip tighter around the iron handle and I do not take another look at my sister because my eyes are frozen on the sight ahead of the two guards marching toward us.

  “Briar.” Vesper’s brown eyes snap to mine.

  “Stay calm.” I smile a fake smile.

  “Princess Briar,” the first guard greets me. “May we be of some assistance?”

  “No.” The word flies from my mouth in a clipped fashion.

  The guard who stands to my right scrutinizes the sight in front of him. “Princess Briar, please let us help. This chest looks awfully heavy. And the King would be most displeased if we allowed you both to hurt yourselves when we could easily move this chest on your behalf.”

  “No, please, we are doing just fine.” I laugh a little.

  The first guard steps forward, and when the tip of his lance hits the stone, I flinch. “Princess Briar, please, we insist.” He does not smile.

  I am covered in sweat.

  So is Vesper.

  The second guard reaches a helpful hand out.

  But Vesper stops him. “I know we do not look like much in terms of size, but together, we could move Broad Craig, believe me.” Laughing, she sends me a wink. “We’ve got this. Thank you for the kind offer, gents.” She taps the guard on the shoulder harshly a few times. “But we’re good.”

  “Yes, thank you.” I blink a few times.

  The two guards have a silent debate with their worried eyes and then they back away. “I bid you a good day, ladies,” they say simultaneously. “If you change your minds, please do not hesitate to ask for assistance.”

  “Thank you!” Vesper grins. “But I think we’ve got it all squared away, gents…”

  We start off once more, dragging the heavy chest, practically destroying our bones as we do.

  “Briar, this is heavy.”

  “I know.” A strangled breath exits me. Sweat pours down my temples. My heart rages.

  We make it to the end of the corridor and stop. But we cannot stop. My eyes fix on the sizeable crack in the corner of the chest. It’s enough to afford us a short well-earned break but we cannot linger long.

  I almost bend to take hold of the iron handle once more, but something forces me to be still.

  The woman strides our way, and as she does, she removes the bright orange hood from her head, revealing the blonde hair that I remember s
o well.

  My stomach churns.

  Inside, way down deep, I’m a fucking disaster.

  What is she doing here?

  “Good morning, ladies.” She grins.

  Vesper glances over at me and finds my brittle smile.

  “Morganna.” I find her eyes and then my own sweep over her as she stands proud in front of me. “I didn’t realize that you were here at Berkhamsted Castle.”

  “Yes.” She grins. “I have been here for a few days now with Mother and Father—the Duke and Duchess, of course. We were invited by the King. And as you know, Alexander does not extend special invitations very often.”

  No, he does not.

  Morganna eyes me strangely. “It seems like forever since we have seen each other.”

  My brows arch.

  This woman speaks as if we were once friends…

  Nothing could be further from the truth!

  “Yes, it does, doesn’t it?” I glance over to find Vesper’s screw-face.

  “You’ve done well for yourself, haven’t you?” Her lips flatten out. “Orphan girl to a princess…” She arches a brow, regarding me curiously. “I’d say that is something to be very proud of, Rose Princess.”

  “I am no longer royalty, as you know.” I look her straight in the eyes, hoping to find some humanity in them but I accept there is none there. I only see ambition and insincerity and lots of other unfavorable stuff.

  Surely Alexander can see the same…

  Something churns in my gut that perhaps he cannot.

  Maybe that is why she is here…

  “Every little girl dreams of being a princess, Princess Briar.” She laughs softly. “But only a woman would ever dream of becoming a queen.” She cranes her neck to scan this massive opulent corridor and then regards us once again.

  “I have only ever had small dreams, Morganna.” I fiddle with my messy hair.

  Vesper remains silent, only examines the superficial woman standing in front of us with unreadable eyes.

  “Well, you’ve done well for yourself, Princess Briar.” Morganna giggles.

  “Yes, you seem to have too.” I laugh a little. “You were fortunate enough to have survived the Plague.”

  Vesper snorts out a laugh.

  “Yes, I did, my entire family did, in fact.”

  Marvelous.

  Morganna turns toward Vesper, finally acknowledging her after all this time. “And I can only assume that this is your sister, Vesper, who I’ve heard so much about.”