His Secret Slave to Scandalous Queen

Chapter 37: Surely You Exaggerate

Livia let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Surely you exaggerate."

Henry’s mouth tilted into a smirk, dangerous and infuriating and so thoroughly himself that it made her heart lift. "I can and I will."

The absurd certainty of it made her smile widen.

He nodded toward the book still in her arms. "Go," he said. "Enjoy your book and have wet dreams about me."

Her smile broke fully then, bright enough to rival the moonlight itself. Livia stepped forward, rose lightly onto her toes, and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. She turned and slipped toward the rooftop door, where Jane waited just beyond it in breathless curiosity and badly concealed excitement.

*****

Lionel escorted the king back to Whitehall through the sleeping city, each man mounted on his own horse, their pace steady but brisk beneath a sky the color of ink.

They had left Pudding Lane behind some time ago. Whitehall lay ahead in all its splendor, waiting to swallow Henry back into duty and the thousand disguises required of a king.

Lionel rode at his side for several moments in silence, though Henry knew that silence well. It was never empty. Lionel was thinking, prying without yet opening his mouth. Finally, as they turned onto a wider road, he asked the question that had clearly been gnawing at him since they left.

"So," Lionel said, adjusting his gloves against the chill, "did Your Highness get some relief?"

Henry did not even turn his head. "Lionel, you do not have to sugarcoat it. You want to know if I fucked her. No."

"My lord, this is unlike you."

Henry said nothing.

"In the past month," Lionel went on, "your mistresses have grown nearly resentful because you do not send for them anymore. Even Lady Bella does not seem to hold your attention."

That got a look from Henry at last.

Lionel lifted one hand. "I only mean to say, something has changed."

They rode on through the dim light of shuttered shops and sleeping houses. Hooves struck the road in a steady rhythm.

"That should not concern you right now," Henry said at last. "I have an assignment for you."

Lionel’s brows rose. "What is it?"

Henry’s grip tightened slightly on the reins. "Find a way to get Livia away from Beaumont," he said. "I do not care how much you have to pay," Henry continued. "Get her away and situated somewhere else."

"Why?" Lionel asked.

Henry kept his eyes ahead. "He offered her to another man."

Lionel had already suspected enough to know Beaumont was the sort of man who would sell his own mother if she fetched a decent price. His hand shifted on the reins. "Want me to cut off his head?"

That earned him a laugh from Henry. "And fan the flames of the Bloodthirsty King rumour?"

Lionel grimaced. "No one calls you bloodthirsty."

Henry turned just enough to look at him, one brow lifting in that infuriatingly calm way that always made Lionel feel like he had misspoken in church.

Lionel cleared his throat. "No one that matters calls you bloodthirsty."

That softened Henry’s mouth. "Everyone matters, Lionel. At least to me." His tone lost its amusement then. "My people matter to me, and what they think of me matters to me. Adding a sleazy brothel-keeper to the list of my dead brothers is asking for trouble."

Lionel knew people embroidered stories around kings because kings were too large to imagine plainly. Henry had inherited not only a crown but every rumor stitched to it—the deaths that had happened near enough to his reign for fools to lay them at his feet whether deserved or not.

The road widened as they passed along the riverward side.

"You cannot let that lie rule your life," Lionel said. "You had absolutely nothing to do with it."

Didn’t I? Henry thought. Or is that a lie I told myself so I could sleep well at night?

Henry pushed the thought away before it could root deeper. Guilt was a useless companion. It offered no solutions. "Anyways..." he said at last. "Sort out Livia’s situation."

"My lord, Beaumont will not let her go so easily. She is his prized jewel. His money cow." He paused, then added with a grimace, "Maybe when she is older and no longer brings in such attention, he would part with her for the right price. But now? He will fight it."

Beaumont would look at Livia and see income. A profitable face with soft hands and a tragic enough smile to tempt rich men into making mistakes.

"Find a way," Henry said.

"Very well. I could attempt a private purchase through a third party. Someone discreet. Someone Beaumont would not suspect is acting for the Crown." He tilted his head, thinking aloud now. "Or I might spread word that there is a better investment elsewhere and tempt him into parting with her for ready coin. Men like Beaumont are stupid in one direction only—they will ignore obvious danger if you dangle enough money in front of them."

Then Lionel glanced at him sideways, measuring. "You could always claim her in the name of the throne," he said. "Discreetly, of course. Beaumont would have no choice."

Henry made a low sound in his throat. "Hmmm..."

"You still do not want her to know who you are."

"Something like that," Henry said.

"Why, Your Highness? I do not understand this," Lionel asked.

"There is something about the way she speaks to me," Henry said at last. "The way she looks at me. There is none of the fear in it. None of the reverence everyone else carries about." He paused, searching for words that did not sound ridiculous even to his own ears. "She is a virgin in every way."

"I would have thought you had enough virgins in the palace to satisfy that particular fascination."

That got a small, unwilling smile from Henry.

"But they all treat me like the king," Henry said.

Lionel stared at him for a beat, then gave him the driest answer possible. "Because you are the king."

(Its a new week, let the power stones and golden tickets rain)