AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“The weather perhaps, ma’am?” Sophia asked, seated to my left in a steel-colored blue dress. “It’s beautiful out—”
“It’s horrible weather. It’s cold and icy.”
“Like her soul,” I muttered very gently under my breath; both Eliza and Sophia looked at me wide-eyed as I lifted my spoon. “I meant Sabina.”
They didn’t look like they believed me.
“Odette, our portraits arrived earlier. Would you like to go see them with me?” Gale asked me suddenly.
“You haven’t eaten much; stay a little longer and finish,” Arabella said to him, making his jaw crack to the side and his fist clench.
“I’d love to see them. You all stay and finish,” I said, getting up as well.
We both walked toward the door. When it closed, he turned back to me, pointing his finger at his chest, which was rising.
Quickly I grabbed his arms. “Breathe. Breathe.”
“It’s high time she left,” he managed to say through gritted teeth. “But I do not know how to make her leave without forcing her, and I’m not sure who is still loyal to her in the palace who would suggest I kick her out.”
“I will think of something.”
“Please.” He huffed and took a deep breath.
“Sir.”
He lifted his head, looking at the ceiling instead of Balduin as he called. “What is it, Balduin?”
“Sir, ma’am, there is a protest outside.”
Immediately he looked at him. “Outside where?”
“Here. The palace,” he said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Mr. Ambrose has been found guilty.”
“And people are protesting…for him?” Gale gaped. Even I didn’t think I was that hated, but apparently, I was wrong.
Then again, someone had to be buying The Morning Eagle.
“Shall we move to the study?”
Gale took my hand before I could even wonder if he wanted me to go along. I squeezed gently, and he squeezed back.
When it was just the three of us, he walked to turn on the television. And there in the snow, by the front gate, a small group of men and women gathered with flags and signs that read…Royal Murderers. It looked like someone had drawn it on the cardboard just a few minutes earlier. And there was press there…of course.
“Sir! Sir? What brought you out here today?” the reporter said to him.
The man’s face was red, and he was shivering, but even in the cold, with pride and his chest out, he spoke into the microphone.
“I’m out to voice my dissent!” he declared.
“You are not happy over the result of Mr. Ambrose’s trial?”
“Who could be happy other than those jackoffs?” he questioned and pointed back to the palace where we are. “For decades, that man has given his life and service to this country. Our country! Yeah, he might have done something stupid. But what we are seeing is a coordinated effort by the king and his wife…who hasn’t been here a year, can’t even say two cities’ names properly, pretending she’s all nice and holy stuff….to kill a man. A man with a family! Someone has to speak up. I mean, the man didn’t really hurt her…”
“Turn it off!” Gale hollered.
