His Secret Slave to Scandalous Queen

"They flee from me that sometime did me seek," he said, voice low. "With naked foot, stalking in my chamber. I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek, that now are wild and do not remember."

"The great Sir Thomas Wyatt," she said.

Henry’s mouth curved sadly.

"I remember many things, my lord." Livia lifted her chin. "But I do not remember you being cruel. First, you arrange to send Richard to France...Then, by some convenient miracle, the Church suddenly cannot solemnise marriages until after the royal wedding. You think I do not see it?" Livia asked. "You think I am stupid?"

"No," Henry said. "I have never thought you stupid."

"Then do not treat me like a fool."

"I will do what I have to do."

"Then what?" Livia asked. "Let us say I leave my intended and find my way back to you. What happens?"

Henry inhaled. "You would be mine. You would be..."

"What? What would I be?" she pressed. "Someone you come to when you feel like it? Someone you keep in a house hidden?"

"You were content with that arrangement once," Henry said.

Livia lifted her chin. "My station has changed since then."

"Your name has changed."

"So has my life."

"Diana Bellamy is a fiction."

"And Henry the merchant was what?" she shot back. "A hymn? You seem to forget," Livia continued, "I am to be a duchess. I am to marry a man who is proud to announce me to the world as his. Only his, and he only mine."

"You must be fooling yourself," Henry said, "if you truly believe Richard will be that devoted to you."

"Why not?" she asked. "Am I not worth it?"

"That is not what I meant, and you know it."

She held up a hand. "It does not matter what you do anyway. Send dukes across seas. Silence priests. Close churches. I will still be leaving England with my intended, far away from you and your machinations." Livia’s eyes stayed on the king. "We will be happy and content."

"You despise me that much?" he asked. His voice broke on the words.

Livia’s anger faltered. "I could never despise you... Even now," she continued, "knowing what I know, knowing who you are. I could never. Somewhere beneath the crown is still Henry the merchant. Sweet, kind, amazing."

"Just the title is different, Livia," Henry said softly. "Only the title."

Livia stared at him, and for one aching moment she almost saw what he wanted her to see. The man beneath it.

Then she saw the chamber around them.

No.

The title was not a little thing.

"It still does not matter," Livia said. "Please, let me be happy, Your Highness."

The doors to the throne room opened before he could answer. A guard stepped inside, bowed, and kept his gaze carefully fixed ahead.

"Your Highness... Princess Madeleine is here to see you."

"This..." She looked down at the floor. "This just proves my point, Your Highness. Even if I am yours, you will never be mine."

He stepped back, the king returning to his face. He looked up at the guard. "Tell her to wait. Send for maids to help Lady Bella to her apartments."

"Yes, Your Highness." The guard bowed and retreated.

Henry turned back to Livia. "I do not know how much you understand about the Crown...But it is an accessory I never asked for."

A bitter smile touched his mouth. "A heavy, cursed, jewel-encrusted accessory that ruins a man’s neck and every honest affection he has. It was dropped on me without warning. I did not reach for it. I did not hunger for it. I never truly wanted anything my whole life. I was content. You are the first thing I will want."

"And I will have you, Livia." He reached for her chin. His fingers tilted her face until she had no choice but to meet his eyes. "I will wait until I can have you but do not ask my heart not to reach for you whenever my eyes sees you. I will obey my heart every single time." He let go of her.

The absence of his touch remained for a moment, warm beneath her chin, her skin had foolishly decided to remember. Livia stepped back at once, distance could restore sense. Sense seemed to have fled the throne room several confessions ago.

Henry turned away from her, his attention going to where Lady Bella sat slumped in the carved chair.

At first, he froze. Bella’s eyes were closed. For one dreadful heartbeat, the entire chamber seemed to fall silent. Fear gripped him with such violence that the king vanished from his face.

"Bella," he said sharply.

Livia’s head snapped toward her. Then Henry saw the gentle rise and fall of Bella’s chest. Relief broke through him. He exhaled and crossed the chamber to her.

Henry bent and scooped her carefully into his arms. Her eyes opened at once.

"Your Highness..."

"Hush," he said, adjusting his hold so he did not press against her injured side. "Go on. Rest. I will take you to your chambers myself."

Her eyes widened. "Through Whitehall?"

Henry frowned. "Yes."

Bella’s entire body stiffened. "No... no, no, no, Your Highness." She pushed weakly at his shoulder. "I will walk." She could imagine another blade finding her back.

No.

She would not invite another knife.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely, my lord."

The doors opened once more, and two maids stepped into the throne room. They came in quickly, heads bowed, faces carefully blank.

Henry lowered Bella to her feet. The instant her slippers touched the floor, Bella swayed. Both maids rushed forward, one taking her arm, the other bracing a hand at her back. Bella sucked in a breath through her teeth.

She looked like a ghost.

"Slowly," Henry said. His gaze lingered on Bella with guilt and concern.

Livia dropped into another curtsey. "Your Highness."

Henry’s eyes flicked to her at once. Livia straightened, turned away and followed Bella out.