The Mysterious Lady

The King's Daughter

CHAPTER TWO

"Everything is according to plan, Your Grace," Sir Simon Elmonte informed his Commander and good friend, Hugh Clayton, the present Duke of St. Ives, before he sat himself smartly into a chair.

Hugh nodded to his friend to inform him that he heard what he had said, as he continued to gaze intently into his glass of wine.. A lot of things had been on his mind lately. Their devised plan with the King had been flowing perfectly on its course. Now, the true traitor had shown itself. He wasn't shocked when it turned out to be the Royal Duke of Carlisle himself. Even as a child, he doesn't like the Duke. When his father passed away four years ago and he got the title, he never did place himself near the Duke whenever he's at court. Something seemed so vile whenever you look at him, although handsome like his twin, their similarity ended there.

Breathing noncommittally while softly fingering his scar on his right cheek, starting from a few centimeters below his right ear slashing down below his lower lip. However, it didn't disguise his devastatingly handsome appearance in the least. In fact, it has been very popular to the ladies.

With his smokey grey eyes fringed with long lashes that seldom turns grayish-blue with emotions, a perfectly sculpted aristocratic nose with gorgeous thin lips made for kissing, maidens all around the Kingdom couldn't take their eyes away from him whenever they're captured by his sensuous charisma.

He could still remember the day he got that mark of valor---as what the ladies named it before they swooned in his presence---that very day when he rescued the queen.

At 26 years old, he was the heir to his father's dukedom. That's why during that night four years ago, he was fighting for his liege.

That night he was ordered by his father, the second Duke of St. Ives, to follow the queen and princess, and protect them at all cost. While on his way along the darkly lit corridor, he stumbled upon the dead bodies of soldiers lying artlessly on the cobblestone floor. Alerted by what he saw, he sped up his movements and run cautiously towards the end of the darkly lit tunnel.

He stumbled upon a sword fight consisting of four soldiers. His anxious gaze had traveled through them, capturing the silhouette of the queen huddled on the far corner of the clearing beside a tree watching the event with pursed lips and rigid body. She glanced away from the fight and saw him coming towards her, immediately her visage changed into a serene one then turned into terror. She was about to shout caution to him when halfway away from her, an enemy leaped from the dark carving his face with a dagger as he reflexively sprinted back minimizing the deadly attack, only his experience as a seasoned warrior prevented the terrible thing to occur.

Not minding the tingling sensation of his injured skin, he deftly unsheathed his sword as fast as the eye can see and without losing momentum slashed it forward giving the death blow to his enemy.

"Are you alright? Let me have a look. Oh! We need to suppress that profuse bleeding. Sit down."

The queen methodically instructed him as she hurriedly walked towards him. He complied and sat on the grassy ground a few meters away from his dead foe. He heard a tearing sound, when he lifted his already aching head he saw the tattered blue silk dress of the queen and on her hand was some cloths unmistakably resembling her gown.

Tenderly, the queen pressed the cloth to his bleeding right cheek, a soft look on her expressive violet-blue eyes.

He was shocked and embarrassed at the same time for never in his entire life did someone showed such loving care to him. His mother died when he was just on his tender age of two from an illness. He found some female company only from the servants but their difference in stations tended to make them wary of their actions toward him.