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There’s a sound at the door and the girl gives a small squeak. “That will be His Majesty,” she says frantically. “I was supposed to be gone already.”
“It will be alright,” I tell her soothingly. “The King will be so grateful that you made me look like this that he won’t care about anything else,” I tell her jestingly.
It’s close to the truth though.
When James comes in through the door, dressed all in black from his breeches to his blouse, he has eyes for nothing else besides me.
When I finally get the courage to look him in the eye, I can feel my whole-body blushing. That look that he used to get when he saw me—like he wanted to devour me—was there, only so much stronger than it ever had been before.
I smile a big, wide smile as he looks me up and down, my first genuine smile with him since I had arrived. He holds up his finger and spins it in the air. I keep my head as high as I can and spin slowly around feeling the long layers of material slide against my thighs.
“You’re a goddess,” he growls. I can hear the girl giggle on the other side of the room but neither of us look over at her, we only have eyes for each other.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I say breathily.
He continues to stare at me for another minute, as if he was imprinting the image of me in his mind. And maybe he was. It was obvious that James was still very much attracted to me, but all other feelings were very much up in the air.
He seems to shake himself out of it after a minute and holds out his arm for me to take. “We should go,” he says, almost reluctantly. I take his arm and little electric shocks seem to go up my arm the moment we touch.
I had been young when I had first fallen in love with him. And although I look the same in this moment, the feelings I’m having towards him are very much the feelings of a grown woman.
We are quiet as we walk. I notice a few pieces of grey hair at his temples and a pang of regret passes over me. I had missed six years. Six years of seeing him grow into the man he was today. I would never get that back.
We stop a few feet away from the doors that led into the banquet hall. He turns towards me and grips my arms softly, his gaze searing into me.
“Do you remember what I told you earlier?” he asks, his tone serious and urgent.
“About occupying the Spanish ambassador?” I ask warily.
“It’s very important that you try and charm him the same way you charmed me,” he says.
I bristle at the insinuation in his words. “What do you mean charmed you?” I say heatedly.
He rolls his eyes in a decidedly unkinglike way. “You made me love you the second I met you,” he responds shortly. “You’re obviously a skilled seductress or I wouldn’t have fallen so easily. I need you to use those talents tonight as a favor to me and your country. You owe me.”
My heart feels bruised. To think that he thought that our love story was some underhanded plot by me to win his heart…
“I’ll do my best,” I respond, trying to sound cold but sounding more like a broken-hearted girl.
His eyes soften at the agony that was obvious in my voice. He stares at me again, searching my eyes as if he was looking for something.
I hope that he can find it.
Without another word we walk to the door where a servant announces us as we walk into the banquet hall. The room is packed, every eye on us as we go to our seats. Him at the head of the long table, and me to the left of him, across from a very disgruntled looking Queen.
I realize how bad this looks. Everyone in the room thinks that I’m his mistress. No wonder she’s so upset. He’s parading me around with no care for her feelings.
I remember the scene I happened upon earlier. She really has no right to be upset. I resolve to talk to James about what was really going on later tonight. The James I had known would never have been so callous towards his wife’s feelings no matter whether there was no love in their marriage or not. There was definitely something else at play that was just outside my understanding.
As I think about it though, why would I care what any of these people think of me? Somewhere between his bedroom and the banquet hall I had come to the decision that he was mine. He has always been mine. Whatever Francesca was, she wasn't in love. And I was determined to get James away from her no matter what it took.
I had always known, probably ignored it for most of life actually, that there was something slightly wrong with me. The world could crumble, people could die, but these men… these men would always be mine.
So, I ignore the looks of hatred and jealousy because I simply decide that I no longer care. I keep my head high as I sit next to James where technically the Queen should be sitting. People stare, but none of that matters to me.
Chapter 6
The Spanish ambassador is seated next to me. He’s a rat-like looking man, with a paunch belly signaling that he’s gone to seed. He looks like he's never had the honesty of a day’s work in his life. His hair is slicked back with so much grease that it was impossible to tell whether his hair color was actually that dark, or if it was just dirty. I have to stop myself from wrinkling my nose and showing how disgusted I was by everything about him. There was a slight smell wafting off of him of oniony body odor. All in all, not the most palatable dinner companion.
