His Secret Slave to Scandalous Queen

Madeleine was waiting in the king’s chambers. The moment Élodie entered, Madeleine turned.

"Your Highness," Élodie whispered.

"Where is he?" Madeleine asked, already moving closer.

Élodie glanced toward the door, making sure no one had followed her. "He is in Lady Bella’s apartments."

"Lady Bella?" Madeleine repeated, her face tightening at once. "Why would he be there?"

Élodie kept her head bowed. "I do not know, Your Highness."

"The son is dead," Madeleine said sharply. "There is no reason for him to go back to her."

"That is where he is," Élodie said carefully.

Madeleine turned away, pacing once across the room.

Lady Bella.

Of course it would be Bella. The grieving favourite. The soft-eyed saint of courtly suffering. The woman everyone pitied, everyone excused. Even the king looked at her with that gentleness Madeleine had wanted for herself.

"Maybe it is nothing," Madeleine said at last, though she did not sound convinced. "Probably just small talk."

Élodie said nothing.

Madeleine waved a hand. "You may go."

Élodie curtsied and quickly left. The door closed, leaving Madeleine alone in the king’s chamber. She waited.

At first, she stood near the hearth, proud and still, refusing to behave like a jealous girl. Then she moved to the window. Then back to the chair. Then to the table where his papers lay. Trade routes. Their future was there, spread neatly across the table, and yet Henry had gone walking through the palace at night toward another woman’s rooms.

Did the king want Bella again? The thought was intolerable. That could not happen. Madeleine could not risk Bella returning to his bed, returning to his favour, returning to the dangerous position of a woman who might one day bear him another child. A queen’s crown was powerful, yes, but a beloved mistress with a son could poison a court faster than any official enemy.

No.

Madeleine had worked too hard. She had crossed the sea, endured Theodora’s insults, forced herself into a palace that watched every breath she took. She had finally secured movement toward the marriage. She had finally reached him.

And last night, he had fucked her. Madeleine pressed her fingers together. Perhaps not with the wild adoration she had imagined, but with enough heat to leave her believing she had crossed some invisible threshold between them. She had given him herself and he had not turned away.

So what else was he looking for? A woman who had already given him a dead son and might use grief to pull him back?

Madeleine’s jaw tightened. No. She would not be replaced before she had even become queen. Soon, the door opened.

Henry stepped in, distracted, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. Then he looked up and stopped, surprised to find her there. "Get out!"

"Your Majesty?"

"Get out now!" Henry thundered.

Madeleine did not need to be told a third time. She picked up her skirts and hurried out of the room, pride bleeding behind her with every step.

The door closed behind her. Stephen stepped in behind his king and bowed carefully.

"My lord," Stephen said, voice measured, "you seem... troubled."

Henry turned slowly. Stephen nearly regretted speaking.

"Did the duke say something?" Stephen asked.

Henry’s eyes flashed. "Find me Lionel. Now!"

Stephen bowed at once. "Yes, Your Highness." He hurried out, and the moment he reached the corridor, he released a breath. This was already shaping up to be a long night. Whitehall had too many of those. One could hardly finish recovering from one disaster before another came stomping through the halls.

He found Lionel not long after. His coat was half-buttoned, and his eyes sharpened the moment he saw Stephen. Stephen gave him a grim look. "His Majesty wants you."

Minutes later, Stephen returned with him. Henry stood near the table, both hands planted against its surface, the treaty papers scattered before him. His jaw was tight, his breathing controlled.

"Your Highness..." Lionel said, bowing.

Henry lifted his head. "You told me you searched Kingsmere!"

"Yes, my lord. I did."

Henry pushed away from the table and stepped toward him. "You searched his estate."

"Yes."

"You searched his household."

Lionel hesitated. "I had every person brought out, my lord."

Henry’s eyes narrowed. There it was. The gap. The mistake. The mercy Lionel had shown Richard because Richard was a duke, because he was the king’s friend, because forcing entry into Kingsmere Manor without the duke present would have been a grave insult. "You had every person brought out."

Lionel’s face tightened. "Yes, Your Highness."

"But you did not go inside. You did not search the rooms."

"I did not think—"

"You did not think."

Lionel bowed his head. "I wished to avoid causing unnecessary offence to His Grace."

"He had her under his roof!"

Stephen stood near the door, silent as a carved saint, though inwardly he wanted nothing more than to dissolve into the wall.

Lionel’s face changed. He looked genuinely struck.

Henry turned away, pacing once. "She was there. In that house. While I was losing my mind. While I was searching London like a fool. How is it that you missed her living there?" Henry snarled.

"Your Highness?!" Lionel said. "She wasn’t there."

Henry’s eyes narrowed. "Did you think I wouldn’t find out?" he asked. "Did Richard buy your tongue?"

Stephen, standing near the door, went very still. Even he, who had been trying to become furniture since the shouting began, looked up sharply.

Lionel raised his head and held the king’s gaze steadily. "My lord," he said, voice controlled, "my loyalty should not even be in question."

"Then tell me!" Henry thundered. "Explain to me how you missed her."

Lionel took a breath. He was exhausted. He had been exhausted for days. Lionel had followed every order, chased every rumour, ridden every bloody road, and now he stood accused like a traitor because the duke of Kingsmere suddenly turned a betrayer. "I couldn’t have missed her. I ordered everyone in the estate out into the courtyard. Every single person inside the manor was accounted for except the duke."

(Brought to you by Janelle Fox 1/3)