His Secret Slave to Scandalous Queen

Chapter 157: I Am Not Saying That

"And even born a princess, you have that same streak in you." Henry added.

Madeleine gave a laugh. "You are saying I am jealous."

"I am not saying that." Henry’s gaze did not leave hers. "You are."

Her face tightened. He had her there, and they both knew it. Still, he also knew better than to expect confession.

Henry sheathed the dagger with a clean, final sound. "But I do not think you will admit to anything...And I have no interest in wasting both our time. I hope to God you are truly innocent in this. Because if I discover that you spilled blood in my palace before you are even queen, it will be declared an act of aggression against England. The spark that ignites a war and then you will see just how the English handle their battles."

Madeleine’s eyes flickered.

"And should war come because of what you have done," Henry continued, "guess who will be the first to fall in the war you caused."

"I know the rules of war, Your Highness," Madeleine said. "It is the reason," she continued, "you should not even think I would do anything like this."

Henry watched her for a long moment then he smiled. "You may go."

For one heartbeat, she thought she had misheard. Surely, after dragging her into the throne room, accusing her, threatening her, he did not now intend to simply send her away.

"No," she said.

Henry’s brow lifted.

"No, I may not." Her chin rose, pride holding her together where reason might have advised retreat. "You cannot keep treating me like this. Like some inconsequential thing brought here to inconvenience you. Like my presence offends you merely because I dare to exist where you can see me."

"The things you say," Madeleine went on, her voice tightening, "the way you say them... do you not realise how hurtful they are?"

"I have spoken, Princess. My will be done." He turned from her and headed back to his throne.

Just like that. Conversation ended.

She curtsied. "Your Highness."

Then, with her chin held high, Madeleine turned and stomped out of the throne room with as much majesty as a furious, wounded princess could manage.

Henry sat once more upon the throne, his fingers resting against the carved arm.

Soon after, Lionel entered the throne room.

"Lionel?" Henry said as the doors closed behind him. "Did you find anything?"

Lionel crossed the throne room with his usual soldierly stiffness, boots striking the floor in a steady rhythm. He bowed when he reached the foot of the dais, his face grim enough to suggest the news would not please anyone. "No, Your Highness."

Henry’s fingers tightened slightly on the arm of the throne. "Nothing?"

"No."

"You searched her apartments?"

"Yes, my lord."

"The rooms of her ladies?"

"Yes, Your Highness. Every bloody nook," Lionel said. "Nothing. No weapon hidden. No stained cloth. No sign of blood. Maybe you are wrong about this, Your Highness," Lionel said carefully.

Henry turned his eyes on him. "Tell me, Lionel...When have I ever been wrong?"

"You are rarely wrong, Your Highness."

"You did not answer my question."

Lionel inwardly sighed. God save men who served clever kings.

"When have I ever been wrong?"

Lionel lowered his gaze. "Never."

Henry rose from the throne slowly. "She did this."

Lionel lifted his eyes. "We have no proof that she did."

"I do not need proof to know truth."

"You need proof to accuse the Princess of France," Lionel replied. "She may have been mistaken about the attacker’s sex. It was dark. She was frightened. She was wounded. Shock does strange things to memory. She may truly believe a man attacked her. Besides," Lionel continued, "why would she want to harm Lady Bella? Nothing threatens her position. She is already betrothed to you. She will be queen. Lady Bella has no claim, no faction, no power great enough to endanger her."

"I do not know much, Lionel," Henry said at last. "For once," Henry continued, his gaze fixed on the closed doors, "I do hope I am wrong. Because if I am right...things will get very messy, very quickly."

If Madeleine had arranged the attack, then it was no longer merely palace scandal.

Lionel bowed his head. "I will continue to investigate with the captain of the guard."

"Ask Stephen to find out if Lady Diana is still in the palace."

Lionel bowed. "Of course, Your Highness."

*****

Henry stepped into Bella’s chamber after council had finally released him from its claws. By the time he reached Bella’s apartments, his head ached.

Bella was awake, propped against pillows, her hair brushed back from her face. Her mother sat beside the bed, feeding her medicine from a spoon. She grimaced as she swallowed. "That tastes like pond water."

"How is she doing?" Henry asked.

Bella’s mother rose at once and curtsied. "She is well, Your Highness. The doctor says she will be right as rain in a week or two."

"Good," Henry said, his eyes resting on Bella. "Would you excuse us, please? I would like to have a word with Bella."

The older woman rose at once. She curtsied, her eyes moved once to Bella, lingering with worry, before she turned and left the chamber.

Bella looked up at Henry and waited. He stood near the foot of the bed, hands clasped behind his back.

"Why?" Henry asked.

Bella blinked. "Your Highness?"

"Why is it so important to you that I am with your French tutor?"

Ah.

So he had noticed.

Bella’s fingers tightened over the coverlet. Henry, apparently, had no patience left for her involvement. "You noticed?" Bella asked.

His brows lifted. "You thought you were being subtle?"

"I was pretending to be subtle."

"Tell me why," he said.

Bella looked away. Now she wished Diana had thought her how to swear in French. It would be quite suitable for this moment. The answer sitting right on her tongue was ’I hate the princess.’

(Brought to you by Mar King 2/2)