Queen
Page 23
Her brown eyes meet my teary ones. “I thought Alexander was going to make her his wife.”
“No.” Reaching out, I touch her cheek and something inside me wants to claw the skin right from her bones. “Why would you think that?” My shaky hand glides over her skin.
The baby squirms.
Vesper blinks. “It was that day.” A painful breath gets sucked into her lungs. “It was that day when we were pulling the chest. She threatened you, Briar.”
I palm her cheek and then with all my might, I snatch my sister and yank her toward me. “What?” My brows knot in the most painful way. “What are you talking about, Vesper?”
She does not reply.
We are eye to eye, sharing breaths and tears.
In the distance, the rhythmic pounding of hooves thump against the cobblestone in the courtyard.
“The Prince is here!” The arrival is announced by a servant. “Prepare his chambers at once!”
He has returned, early, but alas, he has returned home...
Vesper’s eyes flicker around when she realizes the same.
My mind drifts back to that day when I thought I was going to lose Alexander forever…
Morganna’s lifeless body…and her blonde strands saturated by so much water that they looked black.
The moat…
Vesper’s features crumble at the sight of the hot rage which drifts from my pores.
It just may scald her.
“Vesper.” Her name exits me in a begging way, but it does not matter because she will not speak.
This family.
The throne.
The crown.
The House of Montforthe-Byron and all that it stands for means everything to me.
This land is ours.
Ruled wholly by the House of Montforthe-Byron.
It is our divine right.
It is holy decree.
By the order of God.
“I’m sorry, Briar.” Vesper’s brows are cinched tightly together.
“Vesssssper,” I hiss.
“I’m sorry.” She shakes her head. “I am so, so sorry.”
Not fucking good enough!
My fingers curl tighter and tighter into the collar of her dress, almost shredding it. “What-did-you-do?”
Alexander
“THE PRINCE HAS ARRIVED.” Hamilton lingers.
I sit in front of the chessboard, staring at the pieces, still attempting to steady my breathing after the intense few hours of sparring with Davide. I snuggle deeper into my cloak, waiting to warm from the fibers of it and the fireplace which fills this chamber with heat.
A smile touches my lips at the tiny vase which is set on another table near me.
In it is a single purple carnation.
Although Briar’s garden has since been affected by the chill, still there are some flowers scattered around this castle, but they will not survive much longer. These flowers mean so much to her. They are her passion. These flowers and more are why the people of England call her the Rose Queen.
“Your Majesty.” Hamilton’s voice cuts into my thoughts.
I almost forgot he was here. “Yes.”
“The Prince has arrived.”
My chin lifts and I scan the chamber. “Yes, thank you for informing me.”
Hamilton’s eyes settle on mine. “He wishes to see you.”
“Oh.”
“Are you able to see him?”
I flex in the chair I’m sitting in, thinking. “Yes, I suppose I can, but I thought I would see him at dinner tonight. I have much to do.” I nudge the king on the chessboard into the next square, taking my time.
“I shall let him into the council chamber, Your Majesty.”
Keeping my head low and focused on the task at hand, I wave Hamilton away.
The doors open and then shut.
CLICK.
“Brother.” Boots trod along the stone and then stop.
The Prince has arrived...
I lift my head to face him and then a smile, big, wide, and painful curves up on my face. “Brother.”
Zaccai stands ahead—bearded and looking well.
I rise from my seat and step away from the table.
He searches my face, but he will find nothing there except for relief.
I encourage him to come closer and we embrace. After giving his shoulder a few manly taps, I back away and regard him. “You look well. I’d say the Frogs have kept you as young as could be.” With a little laugh, he glances away from me. “You’re back early.” I let him go and stride back to the table I had just been sitting to. “Please come and join me.”
“Alexander, please, you know I am no good at chess.”
“I was never any good either, but still, Father kept teaching me and eventually I became much, much better at this game.” I grin.
He exhales loudly. “Okay, fine.”
We sit and make ourselves comfortable…just like in the days of old.
Zaccai moves a pawn into the next square.
“I expected to get a much lengthier letter from you.” I make a move.
He does the same.
It goes on and on and excitement builds within me that I now sit across the table from my brother in peace and harmony. Of course, nothing comes close to the fun I have with Anna when we play this game. And considering the moves Zaccai makes, Anna is certainly more skilled than him at this game.
“I expected you to have returned sooner.”
Zaccai drags a hand over his beard. “I simply could not.” With a shaky hand, he shifts another piece.
I don’t make a mountain of his shifty demeanor, but it does set me on guard.
Reluctantly, I make another move.
“I have not seen Briar, but I know she is with child.” His eyes smile. “It is good to see you happy, Brother. It is good to see both of you at ease.”
I nod.
“And I have been told about Anna. God has gifted me with a child too.” It takes effort for him to swallow. “Only I know nothing about being a father. I suppose just like I knew nothing about how to become a husband. I still do not have the prerequisite experience to carry out either task effectively.”
I do not blink, only stare at my brother and remain silent.
With a weak hand, Zaccai moves his bishop across the chessboard.
“I expected that you would tell me that you are in love.” I smile, big.
A soft laugh drifts from him. “I am in love.”
“That is very good then, isn’t it?”
His eyes find mine. “I thought I would leave France and return to England a different man.”
I make one final move. “Checkmate.”
Zaccai frowns.
I am less concerned about the game and more worried about the way his thick brows are bent.
He conceals much…
“I want to be married, Alexander, just as you are. I want to have a family, Alexander, just as you do.” He exhales a long breath. “I want to find peace, Alexander, just as you have.”
I place my hand on the table, palm facing down. “What are you saying, Brother?”
All the air seems to get sucked from this room with his inhale. “She would not have me.”
My face scrunches. “I don’t understand…All this time you have been in France…What in the bloody hell have you been doing?” Displeasure ripples through me.
Zaccai trips over the words which have not left him yet. “I-I-I was trying to win her back.”
“But you did not?”
“No.”
“Well, find another woman, Brother, they are aplenty at the edge of the English seas…like the fish!”
Nil desperandum.
Never despair!
A laugh bubbles up from me. “You’ve never had trouble finding something to bed in the past.”
Zaccai’s shoulders fall. “You do not understand.”
His eyes flicker up to meet mine and shine. “I broke her heart.”
I wait patiently for Zaccai to say more but he struggles. “I do not know what to say, Brother.” A look of fear steals away any composure in his face which was once there. “I do not know what to say.”
“I beg you to explain.” My hard eyes land on his crumbling expression. “I do think that you should not allow this rejection to chip away at your confidence. You can propose to another!”
When Zaccai shakes his head, my annoyance rises to the heavens.
“I don’t know what to say.” Shuddering, he sucks in air as if he cannot get enough of it.
“I order you to explain, Brother.” With my words, I shunt forward in my chair, closing much of the space between us and getting in his face because I want to see his eyes. I need to see his eyes… “Brother.”
Without warning, he breaks down in tears like the gutless little soldier boy he’s always been.
Body-shaking, hand-trembling, childlike tears.
Outside the window, the snow drifts, dusting the landscape in a blanket of white and the sky above slips into a gray so thick it almost looks black. And then the thunder of horses’ hooves as they hit the cobblestone in the courtyard fill my ears. But my attention is stolen away once more by Zaccai’s sobbing.
I back away from him and confusion infects my heart. “Brother…”
Zaccai’s big eyes settle on mine. “Helene…”
She is Queen.
Ruler of the Kingdom of France.
A woman born of the House of Capet.
“Helene…she is angry.” Spittle flies from his mouth when he makes the declaration. “I broke her heart and she has vowed to never let me have it again.” His mouth hangs open as if he’s in physical agony.
The condolence letter sent to France…
It was returned, unopened, and therefore unread…
Queen Helene did not accept it just as she did not accept this man…
BANG. BANG. BANG.
The doors to the council chamber fly open and Gaius rushes in, heaving for breath and with his sword secured at his side. Davide and Caspar stalk in behind him. Three sets of wide eyes regard me before they land on my gutless, weeping brother.
This is not the time...
“What is it?” I demand to know.
Gaius swallows far too many times before he can speak.
Davide’s expression is fierce.
An ear-splitting slice ricochets off the stone walls when Caspar sheaths his blade.
Why is no one answering my bloody questions!
In frustration, I rise from my seat. “WHAT IS IT?” Having never seen such fear etched into Caspar’s features before, I stand much, much taller when I spot it.
“Your Majesty…” Panting, Caspar attempts to steady his breathing. “Your Majesty…there’s been an attack.”
-TO BE CONTINUED-
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lover of words. Author. Ghostwriter. Poetry glutton. Cynic. Idealist. Art collector. Lip gloss addict. Wife. Mommy. Music fan. Book whore. Beach bum. NERD. Madwoman. Water rat. Wine drinker. Bermudian. Las Vegas resident-wannabe. Hopeless romantic.
I'm an independent author who had this crazy idea during one very, very hot summer to start writing books and I haven't stopped. I'm loving the ride and I appreciate all the readers who take the time to enjoy my stories.
I live on the small sub-tropical island of Bermuda in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean with my husband and two children. If you can't find me here on the beach, you can bet your G-strings I'm in Las Vegas!
Love is what keeps the world spinning! XOXO
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