ONYX

Chapter Three

“You’re right, I don’t.” She admitted with a sly grin.

The king purred, trailing his fingers along her thigh. She bit her lip with anticipation. “I saw you at the party speaking to Lord Amal.”

“Lord Amal is a friend.” She defended, pretending to pout, but she couldn’t ignore the way his other hand curled beneath the material of her gown. She saw his hand disappear and touch her bare skin and she shuddered with pleasure.

“I don’t like for any man to befriend what is mine.” The king growled. He needed this—the distraction. Lucille had been an excellent mistress with her duties to solely please him. For her services, loyalty, and love her paid her family handsomely in land and riches beyond their imagination, but he’d recently cut back on her payment because of the money issues he was now facing.

“If it is His Majesty’s wish, then I will end all contact with him.” Lucille had barely been able to say the statement without wanting to moan. His fingers were trailing dangerously close to a particular spot that’d been tingling since the party.

“Good. I may have to reward you for obeying me.” The king purred, watching his mistress’ reaction.

“If His Majesty wishes—”

He inserted one finger through her impeccably slick folds. “Yes, you will give yourself to me.”

She happily served him.

Elizabeth was certain what had to be done. It was already set in stone that the king would die, she just had to move the process along a little faster, but right now the king was having a session with his mistress. She tried not to notice, but she saw Lucille walk into his chambers in the dead of night. She knew of their routine and when they were done, he’d send Lucille on her way, then that would be the perfect opening for her to enter.

Alessandra had been watching the night turn into morning and knew that it was done. Her father was dead. She hadn’t slept a wink all night because she’d constantly been worrying about when he’d died. Did it happen one minute ago, two minutes ago, or an hour ago? She wanted to leave her room so badly through the night, but she couldn’t. She’d only draw suspicion and that had been the most selfish thing Alessandra knew she’d thought about throughout the night. She had to think about herself.

When she heard two knocks at the door, her heart dropped. This was it, she thought. They’d found her father. She couldn’t hear anything on the other side of her door; maybe they hadn’t officially announced his death just yet. She crawled out of bed and slowly walked to the door, but she didn’t dare open it. “What is it?”

"Your Grace, you are being requested to present yourself in your father's chamber." An errand boy announced.

"What for?" She wondered with a shred of hope that her father miraculously survived.

"I am not able to say, Your Grace." He replied. “I have no knowledge.”

That sent a flurry of emotions through her core. Guilt for being the cause, pain for the loss of her father, and relief to know he wouldn’t point a finger that named her as the killer. She was overwhelmed with her own thoughts that she’d forgotten that someone had been on the other side of the door.

"Give me a moment to get ready.”

“Of course, My Lady.”

Dressed a soft oceanic blue dress; Alessandra admired the fabric of warm wool instead of silk. It was already cold even with the maid bringing more bedpans to keep the princess warm. Slipping her white gloves on, she wiggled her fingers inside the material to make sure it was all the way on.