His Secret Slave to Scandalous Queen

"Because she is a witch," Tabitha offered.

Richard choked on his tea. "Mrs. Crowe," he managed.

"She asked, Your Grace."

"You cannot simply call the Queen Mother a witch."

"You know her?" she asked Tabitha.

"Do I?" Tabitha said.

It was not a question. The answer that came with a long list of things better left unsaid. Livia understood that whatever Tabitha knew of the Queen Mother was not court gossip to be repeated.

Richard dabbed his mouth with his napkin, still recovering from nearly dying. "I spent a great deal of time with Henry when we were young. My mother did not trust anyone else with me. Whenever I went to visit, she insisted Tabitha accompany me. The Queen Mother never liked her."

"That is putting it mildly," Tabitha said.

"She did not like people she could not bend. And Tabitha has always been rather impossible to bend."

"Because I have a spine," Tabitha replied.

Livia smiled, but her curiosity lingered on Tabitha. "I had better stay away from the queen mother then."

"Please," he said. "Do."

Livia thought of the Queen Mother. Lioness. Witch. Dangerous. Livia had no wish to become part of that life anyway. "Anyway...when are we leaving for France?"

"Four days, I believe."

It sounded both too soon and not soon enough. In four days, England would be behind her. Henry behind her, at least by distance if not by memory. Ahead would be France, marriage, and a future she wanted badly.

"You have everything in order?" she asked.

Richard’s mouth curved. "Yes, ma’am."

Livia sat a little straighter, decision settling inside her. If she was leaving England so soon, she would at least visit Bella before she left. They both deserved a proper farewell. "Then...I should like to go see Lady Bella tomorrow."

"Yes, ma’am," Richard said once more.

Livia gave him a look. "Oh, stop it."

"I am merely being obedient."

She laughed then. He loved making her laugh. It was absurd how much he loved it. It was a conquest, a blessing, and a reason to keep breathing all at once.

He smiled back, hiding the fear sitting like a stone beneath his ribs. She would be going back to Whitehall.

Back near Henry.

Richard reached for his cup, more to occupy his hand. Just a few more days. Four days, and they would be gone.

France, as Henry would come to learn, was not punishment. It was a blessing. An escape. A chance to put the Channel between Livia and a king who had no right to reach for her.

Let Henry sit in Whitehall with his crown. Richard would take France and every bloody diplomatic headache that came with it if it meant he could wake beside the woman he loved and call her his wife.

*****

Henry was seated at his writing table with a stack of court papers when Lionel was announced. Since he had been missing court, he had been instead buried in papers. Petitions, letters.

Lionel entered moments later and bowed. "Your Highness..."

Henry did not look up at once. "Lionel."

There was ink on his fingers, a headache behind his eyes, and very little patience left in his soul. He had slept poorly again.

"What is it?" Henry asked irritably.

Lionel remained near the door. "Your Highness...I received an order from the Queen Mother last night, but you were asleep by the time I came to see you."

"Do whatever she wants." Henry was still bent over the papers on his desk, his quill scratching across parchment.

Lionel stared at him.

Do whatever she wants.

The words raised every alarm in his head. Henry was many things but he was not careless with his mother. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

"I believe you would like to know," Lionel said carefully.

Henry’s quill stopped then it continued. "What is it then?"

Lionel clasped his hands behind his back. "She asked that the house in Covent Garden be prepared for Lady Bellamy immediately."

The scratching stopped again.

"Yes," Henry said.

Lionel felt his stomach drop. "My lord...What have you done?"

Henry lifted his head from the papers. His eyes locked with Lionel’s. "You question me?"

Lionel bowed his head at once.

Damn it.

He had stepped too close to the line. Perhaps over it. "I was not questioning your authority, my lord...I was only curious. Why would the house be prepared for Lady Bellamy if she is to marry..."

"If you finish that sentence," Henry said quietly, "I will have your head, Lionel."

Lionel kept his head bowed. "Forgive me, Your Highness."

Henry looked down at the papers again. "Give whatever the Queen Mother needs to her."

Lionel’s jaw tightened, but he swallowed the protest. There was no point asking if Henry understood what he was doing. Of course he understood. Henry had not stumbled blindly into his mother’s web. He had walked into it with open eyes. "Yes, Your Highness."

Lionel turned to leave.

"And Lionel..."

He stopped at once.

"I hope you meant it when you said your allegiance is to your king and not to anyone else."

He did not mention Richard. He did not have to. Lionel felt a cold sadness settle in his chest. He had sworn himself to the Crown. Beneath the sad temper now, there had been a man trying not to become the monsters who had raised him. "Always with you, my lord." Lionel bowed and backed away.

Whatever Henry had asked of Theodora, it would not end neatly. If she meant to place Lady Bellamy in the Covent Garden house, then the matter had already entered the realm of war.

Lionel wondered what Henry had promised her. For Theodora to help him keep a woman of questionable origins, a woman already promised to another man, a woman whose past could ruin reputations, the price would be obscene.

Henry stared down at the papers in front of him. The machinery of rule. The neat, orderly lies of power. Every line told him he was king. Every breath told him he was a man being torn apart by wanting what he had no right to take.

(Brought to you by Janelle Fox 1/2)