The Usurper's Queen | COMPLETED

21 | the bad king

After giving the ointment to the masseuse, I retreated to my chambers and decided to write a response for Edmund.

To the Duke of Cindertrappe,

I am pleased to tell you that all is well here in the capital city, but I am concerned about the conditions that you are entrenched in. Our great king, however, seems to be in good spirits. In the last few weeks, he added several more mistresses into his harem, and if Queen Jane could not bear him an heir, there are probably twenty more women who could.

I was worried about your sister's wellbeing in your absence, so I asked my father to send his men over to Sterling Castle. They too are doing well, so please do not worry. I greatly appreciate you watching out for Gilbert, and I pray for the safe return of not only both of you, but for all of the Phoenician soldiers. You have promised to me that you would return, so you must fulfill that promise. I shall be waiting.

Yours Faithfully,

Anne Genevieve Winterbourne

I sealed the letter with melted red wax and stamped it with the House of Winterbourne's periwinkle crest. As I left my chambers to look for a messenger, I saw the king and his entourage leaving the palace wing that was designated to hold his mistresses.

I swiftly hid the letter in the folds of my dress and curtseyed gracefully for the king.

"You are Cassian's little girl, aren't you?" he chuckled heartily and full of vigour. "You may stand."

I hastily stood up to face the fat and pasty old king, a mere shell of the lively young man he had once been. Although the ruling House of Chauvelot has been known to have striking, jet black hair and pale white skin, King Edward had reddish blond locks, similar to that of Princess Margaret's, and his skin was a golden colour. He had a bright smile, which must have been very eye-catching in his youth, but now I just found it odd and rather creepy.

"You have blossomed into a beautiful woman, Lady Anne," he rasped and stepped closer to me. I subconsciously stepped away, but I did not dare to take another step further. If I did, I would be punished for refusing the king. His greasy body was inches away from mine, and he grasped my face with his pudgy hands. "Such soft skin you have, cherie," he spoke softly.

If he were any other man, I would have long shoved him away and slapped him in the face, but this slimy bastard was the king. I clenched my hands so tightly that my knuckles turned white, and I was so angry that I felt as if my chest was full of fire.

"I am betrothed to your nephew, the Duke of Cindertrappe," I stammered, shivering in disgust as he trailed his fingers across my cheeks.

"He is away, Lady Anne. I know that you are engaged to him for power. But I am here, and I can give you even more power than he ever can. He is a tiny duke, and I am the king, the ruler of this realm!" he exclaimed proudly.

"I am loyal to my betrothed, Your Majesty," I replied coolly, and I watched as the king's face become red with fury.

"How dare you refuse me, wench?! I am your king, and you should be grateful to be able to serve me!" he shouted, and his attendants rushed to his side, each of them eyeing me distastefully.

"Stupid girl! You can't refuse the king!" one of them shouted. Another rushed to King Edward and said, "Your Majesty, should I order the guards to bring her into your chambers?"

It was as if I were a lifeless object that only served to entertain him, and since he was the king, he was entitled to my body. The king grunted and shoved me away immaturely like the clown that he was, and shouted, "Send her away! Seeing her face makes me sick!"

He walked away, but made sure to turn around and say, "Send Mistress Beaumont into my chambers. At least she knows how to serve her king!"

His attendants shrugged at me with disgust, as if I were a dirty, soiled woman. Yes, how terrible I was to refuse the clown that we had as a king, and how prudish I was to want to remain loyal to my betrothed, who was fighting a war on King Edward's own orders.

My hatred for the royal couple grew with each passing day, and I wished that the day of Edmund's return would come swifter. One day after court session had finished, my father pulled me aside to talk with me.

"What have you done, Annie?" he questioned urgently, panic and distaste written all over his aged face.

"I have done nothing, Father," I answered truthfully.

"Annie, the King wants to revoke your betrothal to Edmund, and he wants you to become his mistress. I said no," Father stated.

"But I had done nothing to drive him into doing that, Father!" I cried in defense, and my father solemnly nodded.

"I know that, Annie. But it is likely that he is starting to see the steady rise of Edmund's power and influence. And if this invasion succeeds, even more people will flock over to Edmund's side. Him trying to revoke your engagement is a pitiful final attempt to reverse Edmund's rise to power. The north is already Edmund's territories, and the south belongs to us Winterbournes. All he has is the support of the Eastern Ainsworths, but his queen is already going mad."

At this moment, I was reminded of Claudie's husband, Philippe de Beauchamp. Despite my continuous warnings, Edmund did end up rallying more support and wield more power than the king, and now he is being targeted. In the battlefield, there were so many circumstances for accidents to happen, and I feared for my betrothed's life.

"He flew to close to the sun," I murmured weakly. "Oh Father, what if he does die in battle?"

My cries fell on deaf ears, and I knew that my father too, was clueless. I felt empty inside, as if my insides were brought out, leaving my chest as a hollow cavity. I was so accustomed to Edmund always being there whenever I called for him, and I could not imagine a day when he simply would not be there to answer. I recalled the brief kiss we shared the last time we met, and I wondered if that was truly the end of it all, and I would never meet him again.

I grew increasingly distraught, and I began to imagine all the accidents that could somehow take Edmund's life. Someone could have added poison into his drink or released a venomous viper into his tent. Or he could fall down from his horse and get trampled, or perhaps be ambushed from behind when he least expected it.

That kiss was as far as our relationship would go, and after that, nothing more. Nothing more.

Hi! If you liked this story, try checking out my other story, which is set in the early 1700s, Catarina and The Prince !