His Secret Slave to Scandalous Queen

"Right," he said, rubbing a hand over his face. "Now may I have Stephen, Mother?"

"Of course, Your Highness," she replied.

Then she swept out of the chamber with her usual regal force. In the corridor outside, she found Stephen precisely where he had remained after he had hurried to get her.

Stephen bowed at once.

"You will hear me clearly," she said. "The princess is never again to enter the king’s chamber without my knowledge. I do not care whether she arrives in tears, or under threat of international incident. You inform me first."

Stephen kept his eyes lowered. "Yes, Your Grace." 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"And if she attempts to sweep past you again?"

"I shall... endeavor more firmly to delay her, Your Grace."

"Good. See that you do."

With that, she moved away down the corridor. Stephen exhaled only after she had gone.

Then, composing himself as best he could, he turned and entered the king’s chamber.

Stephen bowed. "Good morning, Your Highness. Shall I summon the maids?"

"I’ll have a bath first," he said.

"At once, sire."

*****

Richard and the king rode out from Whitehall a little before midday, when the last of the morning mist had burned off. Lord Ashcroft rode with them, along with mounted guards.

By the time they reached the edge of the royal woodland, the sounds of the city had long faded behind them. The trees stood thick and tall beyond the track.

At the tree line, the larger party paused. The king dismounted first, handing off his reins to a waiting groom before taking up his bow. Richard followed. Lord Ashcroft began quietly arranging the men into a wider perimeter.

And so Henry and Richard entered the woods side by side, bows in hand, boots sinking softly into damp earth.

Henry glanced toward Richard. "Did you finish your errand in the city yesterday?"

Richard’s mouth tipped into a small smile. "Yes. I shall return to Kingsmere tomorrow."

Henry nodded. "I did ask one of the ministers to look into the delivery of messages to Kingsmere."

That brought Richard’s smile wider. "Thank you, my lord."

Kingsmere was beautiful, vast, and annoyingly badly placed for quick communication. They walked on a few more paces. Somewhere off to the left, a deer moved faintly through brush, too distant yet for a clean shot.

Richard glanced sidelong at Henry. "But I confess," he said, "I expected something far more entertaining from this outing."

Henry gave him a look. "Did you?"

"Oh, certainly. I was promised hunting, yes, but I had also hoped for gossip." Richard adjusted his grip on the bow and gave the king an innocent look. "Come now. Tell me about this princess who is soon to be our queen."

Henry let out a short laugh under his breath.

Leaves crackled softly beneath their boots as they walked. "I think my mother may kill her first," he said.

And that, Richard decided at once, was already much better than deer.

"From what I gather, the princess is not one to bend easily," Richard said, ducking beneath a low branch as they moved deeper into the woods. "The King of France appears absurdly proud of her. I am told he has spoiled her thoroughly."

Henry gave a quiet hum of agreement. Somewhere behind them, well out of earshot, Lord Ashcroft and the rest of the hunting party kept their respectful distance. "She does not bend," Henry said. "That much is certainly true."

Richard glanced over at him, reading at once that there was more. "Oh no," he said with immediate delight. "That tone means something happened."

Henry should not have told him. He knew that even before he began. But after the morning he had suffered, there was a perverse relief in saying it aloud to someone who would find it as ridiculous as it deserved.

So Henry told him. By the time he reached the part where he had seriously considered climbing out of his own balcony, Richard was no longer merely amused.

He had abandoned all dignity entirely. With one hand braced flat against the trunk of an oak, Richard doubled over in helpless laughter, shoulders shaking.

"I mean it," Henry said, he was laughing now too. "I wished to disappear from my own chambers. My own chambers, Richard."

Richard could not answer for a moment. He lifted one hand.

At last he managed, "We requested a French bride to seal a trade agreement, and instead I believe France has sent us a declaration of war."

That dragged a fuller laugh from Henry.

"She will make a good queen, though," Henry said after a while, once Richard had recovered enough to stand upright again.

"Oh, certainly."

They resumed walking. Then Richard’s tone changed, only slightly, but enough for Henry to recognize mischief returning in earnest.

"So," he said, clearing his throat, "did you at least get some—" He stopped himself there, making a vague gesture and adding a wink.

Henry gave him a dry look. "I was too shocked, honestly."

Richard made a doubtful sound in the back of his throat and angled a grin at him. "Do not lie to me, Your Highness."

"What do you mean?" Henry asked.

They had slowed their pace without meaning to, the conversation drawing them deeper into the woods and farther from the rest of the party.

"Well," he said, "word at court is that... you have been having difficulty performing for the ladies."

Henry stopped dead and stared at him. "Does no one in Whitehall discuss anything except my anatomy?" Henry demanded at last.

"In fairness, Your Highness, the state of a king’s bed is often treated as a matter of public importance."

Henry let out a disgusted breath and resumed walking, muttering. "For God’s sake. One can keep no secret in the palace."

Richard straightened at once. "You are avoiding the question."

Henry sighed. "I do not know," he said at last.

Richard’s brows rose.

Henry glanced behind them then, checking the distance between themselves and the others. "Its not that I cannot get it up," he said carefully. "I’m merely... uninterested in the women I am expected to want."