8.3 Fly Away Dove

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A week had passed since the dinner with the Queen and King, and I had done my best to keep my head held high. I strutted through the Kingdom, in the finest silk gowns and the most extravagant jewels gifted from the King himself.

 I strutted through the Kingdom, in the finest silk gowns and the most extravagant jewels gifted from the King himself

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Men began to bow before me, women whispered in jealousy. I am Lady Scarlett. I've had so much of my life taken and flipped upside down since first losing my parents, and then my aunt and uncle and all I was entitled to. This once delicate pink rose had grown thornes and become stained by the blood of her miscarriage. This second baby inside me will meet full term, I know it because I can feel his strength inside me, the strength of a King.

Henry began spending more time with me outside of his chambers. He would hold feasts in my name, and throw a ball every month that the child inside me grew stronger. He told me 'if you can handle my wife, you can handle anything this Kingdom could possibly throw at you.' And so we began making our arrangement more public.

But even though we were more public, and I was being recognised as a true member of court, our private life never for one moment halted. Even though the King had me, the gifts never stopped - he showered me in them. My favourite gift however, was the crib he had hand crafted for our son. Beautiful crimson sheets laced with gold hung around the base as four mahogany stands held the crib in place, each engraved with a rose on each leg. "It is amazing my Lord," I sung towards Henry.

"As amazing and strong as the woman carrying England's heir

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"As amazing and strong as the woman carrying England's heir." He hummed against my warm palm.

"But I had not prepared a gift for you?" I said, circling the crib and admiring it from every inch.

"You are my gift Scar. Everyday I am blessed by your company. Having you for the first time, and everytime since has been the greatest gift a man could ever ask for, let alone a King."

I twirled before him, "If you're sure there's nothing more I can gift you," I began, kneeling before him, rubbing between his thighs.

"Tonight my sweet Scar, after your five month milestone ball of carrying our saviour." He lifted me from my knees and sat me on his lap, kissing my belly.

I held my lips against his and my heart fluttered in his name. As his hands travelled over my body, an enormous wave of guilt consumed me. When had our game stopped? When had my disguise confused me so? Was I still pretending to be loyal whole heartedly to the King? How could I do this to Tyson, my sweet Tyson. Soon enough the King would show his true colours again. But when he does... will I be able to resist him?

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