Queen

by Daya Daniels

  Vesper grins. “Yes, I am Briar’s only sister.”

  Morganna eyes us curiously. “Well, then it is very nice to meet you.”

  Vesper nods.

  My eyes sweep over the chest at our feet.

  “Surely, you have someone else who can do this for you, Princess Briar.” Vesper’s eyes flicker around.

  I lower my chin. “Yes, but I’d much rather do it myself.”

  “Suit yourselves then.” Morganna twists on her heel and prepares to march off but then she stops.

  “Shit.” Vesper groans.

  Morganna is once again in front of us, eyes narrow, lips pressed tight, thin left brow arched high. “Alexander seems different.” She gestures with a hand. “I mean he’s always been a difficult man. But, I don’t know, now he just seems a little preoccupied.”

  “He is the King.” The words leave me firmly and with much annoyance. “Should he not be, as you say, preoccupied?”

  Vesper smiles.

  Morganna’s brows knot.

  “That is not what I meant, Princess Briar.” Morganna shifts all her weight to one hip and flicks a blonde curl away from her face. “This family…” She lowers her eyes. “It is unfortunate with what has happened to the Queen Mother and Jean-Baptiste. After all of their loyal service to the House of Montforthe-Byron, suddenly they find themselves living with the rats.”

  I only stare at Morganna.

  “It is easy to fall, Princess Briar.” She doesn’t blink.

  “I suppose it is.”

  “You should steer clear of Alexander.” Morganna offers me sincere words of advice.

  I know…

  But, I cannot.

  Because we are tethered…

  “Or you just may fall too.” With a grunt, Morganna twists on her heel and marches away from us.

  Vesper doesn’t say a word, only regards the woman leaving our presence with a gentle gaze.

  Reaching down, I grab the iron handle of the chest. “Come on, Vesper, I need to get this back to my chamber right away.”

  “Yes, dear sister, okay.” Vesper does the same.

  I drag this heavy chest and its precious cargo along with my bleeding heart back to my chamber.

  Alexander

  DO YOU KNOW WHAT it feels like to have all the blood drained from you, slowly?

  A smile races across my lips.

  It is often how I feel each day when I sit on the throne…

  They ask too much of me. They demand. They take their fill of me.

  And then, they leave.

  It is late at night.

  I sit in this chair at the small table, staring at the chessboard and its pieces.

  The king stands alone.

  As always…

  Every man is taken to task eventually for the bargains he secures. And now I must answer for my own trades. Long ago, I had promised the bloody Pope that in exchange for his blessing over my brother’s divorce—or annulment—whatever the hell they choose to call it and granting it swiftly that I would soon marry after.

  Before the next spring, he had demanded, and like a fool, I had agreed.

  I offered my tattered soul up to have my wish immediately granted…

  And now, I am forced to “pay the piper,” as they so often say.

  Sinabaldo’s wise belief is that a man should not be long without a woman. It casts him to sin and promotes fornication. Under the eyes of God, a man is only half of what he could be without a woman. In Sinabaldo’s opinion, a man should be married under the eyes of the Catholic Church and all of Christendom and that I should lead by example for my people.

  I promised Sinabaldo that I would.

  And a promise is a promise…

  After all, the House of Montforthe-Byron cannot afford to fall out of favor with His Holiness, the Pope…I am much too busy to compel myself to prove it, but I can only suspect that my advisors had much to do with influencing His Holiness, the Pope’s, eventual demands. I should have them hanged for that, even though I do believe that their position is reasonable.

  A king needs an heir.

  Two if he’s lucky.

  But before all that can happen, he must have a queen.

  Dragging my fingers through my hair, I fist it for a moment before I let it all go. With a nudge, I shove the queen on the chessboard closer to the king, so that they are side by side. It is picture fucking perfect.

  Only I don’t like who it is likely that my queen will be…

  So, with the flick of a finger, I knock the queen over and seem satisfied leaving it just that way.

  Running a hand over my jaw, my thoughts flip to Briar—the woman who had fought so staunchly for her own rights. With my true desires now, I would be taking all of that away from her and I just can’t.

  What kind of man would I be to force her into marriage?

  I am a king.

  I have fought for her.

  I have sold off little bits of myself to ensure her happiness.

  And I regret none of it.

  But, what I need the most from her she denies me over and over again…

  I have pledged my heart.

  I have asked her to be my queen.

  Nevertheless, my obligations may force me to make another choice in the absence of her acceptance.

  The knock which lands on the door jerks me out of my ruminations. “Enter.” My head lifts.

  Delicate fingers curl around the doorframe before it is pushed open and a pretty face pops into view. “I am sorry to bother you, Alexander.”

  A little breath swirls around in my chest and I scramble to rise from my seat. “Briar.”

  “Yes.” She eases into the council chamber and the doors shut behind her.

  I swallow down my nervousness.

  Briar keeps her head low as she proceeds farther into the chamber with her fingers linked together in front of her. She looks lovely in an understated blue dress and with her thick hair pulled away from her face, revealing her delicate jawline and bright eyes. But they aren’t so bright at the moment. They are simply sad.

  I rush across the chamber and stop when I am standing less than two feet away from her.

  She wanders around and doesn’t say a word.

  “Briar.”

  Her head swings in my direction and then she looks away once more before she comes to a standstill.

  “Briar.” I edge closer and near where she stands with her back to me. “Is everything alright?”

  “She is here.”

  My brows knot in confusion and then a storm of satisfaction consumes me when I realize who she is referring to. Is she jealous? Is she upset? Does the matter of my impending marriage affect her so deeply? A painful breath exits me. “Berkhamsted Castle has many visitors at the moment, Briar…”

  “Alexander, please.” She is almost entirely green.

  I do not conceal my smirk. “Yes, Morganna is here.”

  “You are getting married?” When she twists to face me, my heart crumbles at her tortured expression.

  “I must.”

  A tear slips from her left eye and rushes quickly down her cheek.

  I allow her to weep.

  I want to hear her sobs.

  I desire to absorb the loss she feels.

  I want her to feel my pain.

  Every tear is for me. Every choked gasp which exits her tiny frame is-for-me.

  It

  is

  all

  for

  me…

  Reaching out, my hand lands on her shoulder and I encourage her to turn around and face me. “Lest you forget, Princess Briar, I asked you to marry me not too long ago.”

  She weeps more.

  Holding her chin gently between my thumb and index finger, I beseech her to understand. “I offered you everything I have.”

  I am a king!

  And you continue to bring me down to my knees…

/>   She covers my hand with her own and squeezes.

  “You refused me.” Every muscle in my face tightens.

  Her warm tears slick my skin when I bury my nose into her cheek.

  “You continue to refuse me.”

  Her sobs become uncontrollable.

  “Why do you continue to refuse?” The words rip from me in a hiss and I behold her broken expression.

  “Because I must.”

  “You do not.” I breathe her in.

  “I love you, Alexander.” She cries. “And I know you love me.”

  I do. I do. I do.

  I nod firmly.

  She is afraid.

  But, so am I.

  A union such as ours goes against all conventionality.

  It simply should not be.

  The Pope, His Holiness, may not even bless it, but it is a gamble I am willing to fucking take.

  Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.

  If I cannot bend the will of Heaven, I shall move Hell…

  “Yes, Briar, I love you.” I smile a little, unable to help when it stretches big and wide across my face. “And I know you love me.” I dip down and peer into her face and then my lips brush over hers.

  She comes closer, seeking me, injecting me with so much warmth.

  And we kiss…

  I pull her close and our lips seal, tongues twist, and I delve into the sweetness of her mouth with every single breath I take. Clutching her small frame and wrapping it up in my arms, I sink deep into her.

  She moans into my mouth. And I groan into hers. Pent-up desire swirls around us like a storm. She plants her palms against my chest, forcing space between us. With her provocation, I release her and find she’s out of breath and practically drooling.

  With watery eyes, she swallows and gazes up at me looking shockingly afraid. “And together, Alexander…” Her eyes shut for a while and they reopen slowly. “And together, we will consume each other. We will destroy each other. We will bring England to its knees.”

  I cannot disagree.

  Briar

  I FIND THAT I am gone astray when I peer into his haunting eyes.

  And for the first time ever since I’ve known him, I see happiness in them.

  Have I pleased him?

  His warm palm clutches my cheek. “I need you, Briar.” He kisses me once more.

  I breathe in the clean and spicy scent of his skin and revel in the sensation of his soft beard as it brushes over my own. And then I fall into another kiss which I encourage over and over again. “We shouldn’t.”

  “I need you.” He takes my top lip gently between his teeth and silences me with another fierce kiss.

  “We shouldn’t.”

  Barrel arms wrap around me and I am pressed into the cold stone wall. His lips find the curve of my neck. And kiss after kiss is pressed into my skin. A loud sigh drifts from me when his hand clutches my nape. Tender. So tender. My thighs part when he shifts and buries his heavy frame between them allowing me to feel everything he has to offer. Everything I desire. Everything I need. While peering into his grays, I grind myself against his hardness.

  “You cannot resist me.” His smile is bastardly and victorious.

  I shift against him once more, panting from the sensation and moaning as my wetness through the thin fabric which covers my pussy slides along the bulge of his cock. It is a filthy ministration. One which makes the large vein in his forehead protrude and his jaw clench painfully before his hisses rip through the air.

  He consumes my mouth again before he pulls away and allows my shoes to settle on the stone.

  Deliberately and with the most charming smile on his face…he lets me go…

  I stand on my own two feet.

  I do not fall.

  Is he showing me how powerful I am?

  With my hair all over the place and perspiration slicking my skin, I heave for breath.

  Wanting.

  Aroused.

  Lust thrumming through my delicate veins.

  Alexander observes me, seemingly impressed and then he snatches me again and I’m pulled into his embrace. Suffocating. Consumed. Swallowed up in his heat. With a smirk teasing his lips, they near my ear, brush gently along the shell of it, and nip at my lobe before his deep voice sends a shiver skating along my spine from tip to base. “You may not be a virgin, Princess Briar, but when I take you, I promise that you will forget about all the men who have ever come before me.”

  I’m unable to catch my gasp before it drifts from me.

  Alexander’s beautiful eyes sweep over me with adoration and mischief swimming in them. “I promise you.”

  Dumbly, I nod, finding myself lacking of any common sense and still dizzy from the pleasurable assault I’d just endured against my flesh.

  Alexander’s smile is gentle. “We leave for Cornwall in three days.”

  I beg your pardon.

  ***

  I could not sleep.

  I’ve been up much of the night, twirling my fingers in chocolate curls and adoring a sweet face.

  Her long lashes flutter and her eyes pop open to offer me a blue regard. “Rose Princess.”

  “Yes.” I run a hand down her pudgy cheek.

  “Are you going to keep me?”

  I suck in a painful breath. “Yes, of course.” She shifts and snuggles up closer to me. “What if you cannot?”

  My lips twitch up into an uncertain smile. “I don’t think you should worry about such things, Anna.”

  “So, do you promise you can keep me?” Her rosy cheeks shine beneath the moonlight.

  I peer at the little girl who I’d more or less smuggled away from a life without a future. One which seemed to closely resemble my own when I saw her before dawn, wandering the muddy streets in the village, barefoot and hungry and alone. I press a soft kiss to her cheek and pull the lush comforter over her tiny frame.

  Warmth all but swallows her up.

  And with every smile she gives me, big chunks of my heart soften even more and part, allowing her spirit to fill the spaces there.

  “Yes, I promise to keep you, Anna.”

  “Thank you, Rose Princess.”

  I caress her cheek. “Please call me Briar.”

  She frowns. “Can I just call you Mother?”

  I regard her with awe.

  What do I know of being a mother?

  “I never had a mother, Briar.” Her fingers twist in my hair, adoring it. “But I would imagine if I did, she would look a lot like you do.”

  “Of course you had a mother, Anna?” I press my lips together. “Maybe you just don’t remember her.”

  She sighs. “It was always just Father and me before he went away.”

  I blink a few times drawing in her sadness and wanting to take it all away from her.

  Anna is just a child and is of no age to truly understand death, but she knows her father isn’t coming back.

  “I see.”

  “Do you have a mother?” Anna smiles.

  “Yes.”

  “And a father?”

  “Yes, of course.” I twirl a tendril of her hair around my fingers. “But they have gone away too.”

  “Do you miss them?”

  “Yes, always.” I make a face. “I am afraid I know nothing about being a mother, Anna.”

  “Of course, you do.” She giggles softly. “You are kind. You are pretty. You have the most beautiful flowers. And even when everyone in the village got sick and went away for good, you still returned to check on all the people. You returned to give us wonderful things and to pray for us. I couldn’t wait to see you.” She chuckles.

  Every whispered word from her sleepy lips caresses my heart.

  “You always make me smile. And whenever something hurts, you make it feel better. Besides, you came back for me.” She laughs. “Only mothers truly ever come back for you. They never leave you.”

  A s
mile touches my lips.

  Sleep tugs at Anna’s eyelids. “You kept your promise.” She palms my cheek. “And only mothers keep their promises.”

  “Yes, that is true.”

  “So, can I call you Mother?”

  “Of course, Anna.”

  I hold her close and adore her innocence and do everything I can to take away her fears.

  Because she doesn’t deserve them…

  She is just a child.

  Alone.

  Abandoned.

  An orphan.

  Just like I once was…

  “You should sleep now, Anna.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Her eyes shut and eventually she settles and then drifts off to sleep.

  I am set to leave for Cornwall in just three days and I know there is no way I can take Anna with me. I cannot return her to her home because it does not exist any longer.

  Nevertheless, I was given strict instructions…

  A sigh drifts from me.

  Anna has nothing and no one—only me. Her mother…

  Worry causes my chest to swell with my next breath. Still, I aim to sleep...

  So, I do, and promise that I’ll find time to fret about the small things tomorrow.

  Alexander

  THE NEXT MORNING…

  “I must say, Your Majesty, that I am fully against this.” Hamilton’s big nose twists.

  CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.

  I spar with Gaius.

  CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.

  We rush past where Hamilton stands stiff, imploring me to heed his advice.

  “It is only a short trip, Hamilton.” I grit my teeth.

  “Yes, Your Majesty, but we have much work to do here.”

  “Such as…”

  “I have summoned your cousin, Lady Freya, to Berkhamsted Castle to replace Beatrix as Princess Briar’s new lady-in-waiting. We must announce your upcoming wedding. We need to discuss precautions regarding the Plague with Shaw. There is much we need to do, Your Majesty.” Hamilton is sweating now more than I.

  Except his perspiration may just be the direct result of frustration.

  Whereas mine is simply from sheer effort.

  Gaius’ sword swings my way and whips through the air.

  I duck the attack and block his next swing with my blade.