The Queen's Gambit tells the story of a rekindled obsession as King Henry VIII reunites with his childhood companion, the captivating Princess Eleanor, who has just returned to England from Italy. Once close, their bond now ignites into a dangerous...
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The sun had long set, casting the estate in a blanket of soft shadows. The torches lining the garden paths flickered faintly in the evening breeze as the grand hall of Eleanor's new estate remained alight with the warmth of golden candles. Inside, Eleanor sat beside Edward Seymour, her gaze focused on the far-off flicker of flames in the fireplace. She felt the weight of the evening pressing on her—an evening that had been filled with dangerous promises and whispered agreements.
Charles had been called away, a summons to attend a last-minute meeting with the king's council back at court. He had left with a brief, knowing smile, promising Eleanor and Edward that he would return as soon as his duties were fulfilled. But now, with only Edward remaining, the tension between them was palpable, the memory of the kiss they had shared in the garden still fresh in their minds.
The fire crackled, the only sound in the otherwise silent room. Eleanor leaned back in her chair, her eyes flicking to Edward, who had been quiet since Charles had left. His posture was stiff, his hands resting on his lap, but Eleanor could sense the turmoil within him. She knew what he wanted—what they both wanted—but there was a hesitation in the air, as if Edward was holding himself back, unsure of what was allowed, unsure of how far they could go.
Eleanor decided to break the silence.
"You've been quiet," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is something troubling you?"
Edward's eyes flickered to her, his expression unreadable for a moment. "I'm just... thinking."
"About what?" Eleanor asked, her tone gentle but teasing.
Edward exhaled deeply, leaning forward slightly as if the weight of his thoughts was too much to carry. "About everything. About us. About what we're doing."
Eleanor smiled softly, her gaze warm as she reached out to touch his hand. "I thought we agreed," she murmured, her fingers brushing against his skin. "We're careful. No one will know."
Edward nodded, though his brow remained furrowed. "I know. But it's more than that. You... you have this hold on me, Eleanor. I can't think straight when I'm around you."
Eleanor's heart raced at his confession, the intensity in his eyes making her pulse quicken. She had always known she had power over him—over both of them—but hearing him say it aloud was thrilling in a way that was almost intoxicating.
"You don't need to think," she whispered, leaning closer to him, her voice soft and soothing. "Not when you're with me."
Edward's breath hitched as Eleanor's fingers trailed up his arm, her touch light but deliberate. He couldn't tear his gaze away from her, couldn't ignore the pull he felt every time she looked at him like this. She was dangerous, yes, but she was also everything he wanted. Everything he had been denying himself for too long.
"Eleanor..." he breathed, his voice thick with desire.
Eleanor smiled, her eyes darkening with intent. "What is it, Edward?" she asked softly, her lips just inches from his.
