His Secret Slave to Scandalous Queen

"He eats like a horse," Queen Mother Theodora replied dryly.

Henry chuckled softly. "Well, that is promising." "How are preparations for his baptism?" he asked.

Theodora folded her hands neatly in her lap. "Invitations have been sent out, Your Majesty. The Archbishop is prepared."

Henry nodded. The ceremony would be elaborate, as such things always were. Nobles from across the kingdom would attend, eager to be seen celebrating the heir to the throne. Henry glanced down again at the boy in his arms.

Carefully, he handed the baby to Bella. "And how are you?" he asked her. "I hear it was a difficult birth."

Bella lowered her gaze respectfully. "I’m fine, Your Majesty."

Satisfied that both mother and child appeared healthy, he turned toward the door.

"I’ll walk with you, Your Majesty," Theodora said, rising quickly from her chair. She followed him out into the corridor. "I hear you left the palace without your guards again today."

"News travels fast."

"You are the king," she said calmly.

He continued walking. "I merely visited the city."

"Alone."

"Yes."

"You do realize," she said, "that there are people in this kingdom who would gladly remove your head if given the opportunity."

Henry gave a faint smile. "There are people in this palace who have done the exact same." He turned accusing eyes to his mother.

"Your Majesty, these are dangerous times," Theodora said, ignoring the accusation woven neatly into her son’s tone.

Henry clasped his hands behind his back as he walked. "So you say," he replied coolly. "How else will I know how dangerous if I do not interact with my people like a normal man? Everyone at court seems determined to tell me what they believe I would like to hear—or whatever suits them best. Ministers polish their lies like silverware."

He glanced sideways at his mother. "I serve my people. I want to hear from my people."

"Which reminds me," Theodora continued, "the princess of France will be arriving on Sunday with the French ambassador. She will, of course, be staying in the palace so you may become acquainted with your future queen. The Lord Chancellor is currently drafting the terms of the alliance," Theodora continued. "He stopped by earlier to notify you while you were out... mingling with the people. Since His Majesty was unavailable, I took the message."

"Of course," he said after a moment. "Anything else?"

"No, Your Highness," she said lightly. Then, she added, "Would you like me to send any of the girls to your chambers tonight, seeing as your mistress is currently unavailable?"

"I will let you know, mother," Henry said then turned on his heel and continued down the corridor. He had just rounded the final bend toward the throne room when a familiar figure appeared from the opposite direction.

"Your Majesty," Lionel said, bowing deeply.

"Lionel!" Henry’s voice lifted slightly with interest. "I trust you bring me news of the girl."

Lionel immediately fell into step beside him as they walked. "Yes, Your Majesty," he replied. "She appears to be a servant at a brothel on Pudding Lane owned by a Nicholas Beaumont."

"A brothel, hmm?" Henry said.

Lionel nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Henry slowed his pace slightly, glancing sideways at him. "Is she a whore?"

"I doubt it, my lord," he said carefully. "Nicholas Beaumont keeps his girls... very pretty."

Henry stopped walking. Lionel nearly took two more steps before realizing and stopping as well.

The king turned to look at him with an expression that was dangerously amused. "You frequent this place, Lionel."

Lionel felt a prickle of heat creep up his neck. He had momentarily forgotten the inconvenient truth about his sovereign: King Henry possessed the unsettling ability to hear what people did not say.

For a moment Lionel considered lying. Then he wisely abandoned the idea. "Yes, my lord."

Henry studied him for another heartbeat before breaking into a quiet chuckle. "Naughty man."

They reached the heavy doors leading into the throne room, but Henry did not enter immediately. Instead, he reached into the inner pocket of his coat and withdrew the small, worn book.

"Canzoniere," Henry murmured, running his thumb along the margin.

The poems of Petrarch. Love, longing, impossible devotion. Curious reading material for a thief.

"Tell me, Lionel," Henry said without looking up, "does Nicholas Beaumont know he employs a literary criminal?"

Lionel folded his hands behind his back. "I suspect, Your Majesty, that Mr. Beaumont concerns himself more with coins than with poetry."

"Interesting girl," he murmured.

*****

"Livia! Livia!" Jane called excitedly as the night began to wind down.

"Whats going on?"

"Your mystery man found you!"

"What?!" livia yelled, eyes wide.

"One of the patrons just brought this for you. He booked me for the night but wanted me to give this to you first. He said from the man in the alley."

Livia wiped her hands down from the dishes she was doing and got to her feet. "That’s just my scarf. I must have left it behind."

"Open it."

Livia collected the carefully wrapped scarf and opened it. And in there was the book, Canzoniere.

Livia smiled, her fingers gently caressing the book. It wasn’t the same as the one she had stolen that morning so he must have gotten this one specifically for her.

"Looks like he found a way to your heart." Jane said. "I have to go. My man awaits."

Livia didn’t bother to respond, she just stared down at the book. "Wait!" Livia called. "What room are you in? I would like to send a letter to thank him."

"Upstairs, third room on the right."

Livia nodded and opened the first page where a simple note read.

’You wagered your life for a book. I wonder what kingdom of wonders you hoped to find between these leaves.’

She smiled faintly at that. He seemed to be a man of great intelligence.

******

King Henry received her response the next morning as soon as Lionel arrived. It didn’t seem like Lionel got any sleep last night, neither did he. He wished he would see the look in her eyes when she received the book.