The Bastard (Darling #2) [complete]

Chapter Thirty-Five

A F T E R  B E I N G asked to be Thatcher's wife, the two of them found it impossible to get a wink of sleep. They were reminiscing on parts of their childhood, giggling like they were children once again... Finally feeling happy.

It was strange of them to feel happiness and to have the freedom once again to be happy. After everything they had gone through - the arrangement, bearing a child, losing their baby, and Louelle nearly losing her life - they finally made it into a clearing, and it was beautiful.

The morning on the day of the coronation, it wasn;'t too difficult for either one of them to wake. There was no longer anything standing in their way to get what they both wanted out of life. Even if there was, they were both very thrilled from the night before. Nothing could take away that happiness.

Even if it tried.

Louelle was straightening herself out as she prepared for the coronation. Because she would be at the side of the king to be, she was aware she'd more than likely get questions in regards to the state of her face - with the cuts and bruises that hadn't quite healed yet. She asked Ruby to leave her so she could answer imaginary questions out loud and not get looked at as if she was insane.

Not that her lady in waiting would openly treat her like she was, she surely would have thought it.

She eyed the cut on her lip. "Yes, this one was quite the doozy, Lord Bekham. I..."

She paused as she pondered on a lie, but any that she thought of were not very believable.

Perhaps she would not have to say anything in regards to her injuries, because no one would care enough to ask. Just because she was Thatcher's fiancèe, it did not mean that she would be paid too much attention. She had been a close friend of his for years, and throughout them, no one seemed to pay her any mind.

But he was to be king, and she was to eventually be his bride. People would most certainly pay attention to her then.

So, she had to memorize a script to ensure she had her story straight. If it somehow became knowledgeable that it was King James who had attacked Louelle, it would have been suspicious that his death followed a day later. And then, because it was she who was beside Thatcher instead of her sister, there wasn't any doubt others would begin to believe it was Thatcher who killed the king.

She could not allow him to be charged with treason, so figuring lies was the better option.

Only, she was so awful at lying.

"This cut was a doozy, Lord Bekham... I was in the sewing room -" which, granted, she was - "and my stool broke. So, then, I clumsily fell and smacked my face on my workstation."

That didn't even sound believable to her. It wouldn't have sounded believable even if it came from the devil himself.

"Silly me," she muttered, tossing her mirror on the vanity.