The Cruel King and The Captured Queen

Chapter 8 - Part 2 - The Library

Day has turned to evening, and the men have returned with a victory. A cart pulls in a mountain of raw meat, and everyone migrated towards the back of the castle as they join in couplings towards the feast. Margaret waved a soft goodbye as she follows the crowd heading towards the dining hall. I wander over towards the library like every evening. Grabbing a book and I quickly settled into a comfortable position on one of the benches. Flipping through the pages, I allow myself to lose track of time.

~

Footsteps approach and someone flops beside me. Lifting my gaze up from the pages to the person beside me, I freeze.

"Your Majesty?" I practically gasp in my confusion, my greeting more of a question.

He chuckles, "Miss Tucket." I close the book and place it on my lap. He reaches out tugging it from under my hands. Slowly, he flips through it seeming amused. "Astronomy, how riveting," he sarcastically responds. Tossing the book on the side table, he lifts his eyebrow in a silent question.

"Some people believe a person's personality is developed around the constellations," I babble out a random fact.

"Is that so?" he chuckles, leaning back onto the bench entirely at ease as his arms rest along the arm.

"I thought it might help in understanding some people's behaviours," I blush uncomfortably with his sudden attention.

Was Margaret correct about him staring at me during the speech? I mean I showed up so much later than everyone. He probably was trying to figure out why I had not been punctual.

"How strategic of you," he smiles lightly.

"Hardly, you know the written word fascinates me," I remind him of our interaction back at Hull's marketplace.

"That I do," he agrees with a nod, "did you ever get to read the book I gave you?"

"I did actually, it was rather interesting," I chuckle, "Who knew that a sword fight had such footwork, it's almost as if it's designed like a dance."

My taunting tone brought a smile to his lips, the genuine smile I remember from our first encounter. Much has changed in that time, I have learned he is but two men. Alone with me, he is the Traveller, carefree and witty. When he is the King, he is cold and distant, full of stress from the weight of his title.

"Dancing is good practice, I'm sure I could outshine you any day," he taunts me.

Outshine me in dancing? That would hardly be a challenge for him, I can't remember the last time I danced. Maybe when I was a child? Besides he is a King, born with talent and probably has danced most of his life at all those extra events.

"Honestly, I have to agree," I say somewhat seriously by error. My thoughts distracted as I try to think about if the last time I got the chance to dance.

Leaning forward I reach out taking the book and making my way over to the shelf nearby.

"Can you not dance? You are a lady," he blurts out entirely in shock from his revelation.

I chuckle, it is funny to see him undone by such a simple thing as dancing.

"Chadwick was never fond of the action," I remind him of the life I lived.

The life of a commoner had many celebrations around the harvest, but growing up as Chadwick's designated friend meant you did as he wished. Last time I snuck off to dance with the other children, Chadwick ignored me for a week. My parents were extremely displeased with me. I was expected to keep Chadwick entertained, and I had upset him, though they never knew why. I guess that was the first time I hide Chadwick's true personality from them.

"Maybe at a festival? What about your wedding? There are many reasons for a lady to express herself in dance," he pushes for understanding.

I chuckle as he struggles to comprehend my life.

Sliding the book in where I had pulled it from earlier. I glance back. "We would have had a festival for this harvesting season, which your men actually interrupted if I might add. But Chadwick prefers not to dance," I sarcastically try to reprimand him.

Walking back to the bench I return to my seat by his side. He looks off into the shelves of books lost in thought. Something is bothering him. "Were you not going to even dance during your wedding?" the sadness in his voice holds a hint of empathy for an opportunity lost, though I never cared for it. Why is this pure indulgence seem to be his undoing?

"Probably not," I dismiss the thought.

Abruptly he stands to face me and offering out his hand. I look up and our eyes connect, there is an intensity to them. One that pains my chest as my heart seems to still.

"What are you doing?" I stutter.

"Dance with me," he whispers a soft demand, his expression yearning.

Shaking my head at his persistence, I chuckle, "I can't, I've told you that already."

He is hugely overdramatic, the spoiled brat. It brings a boyish character to him, he is such a new king. What will happen when the hardships of leading get to him like they did Chadwick?

"Humour me?" he smiles.

I stare up at him for a moment taking in his soft brown eyes shining hopefully back at me. My heart flutters, and I'm left unsure of what to do. He seems so vulnerable standing there asking me again for something. I can't seem to bear the thought of declining him still. I place my hand in his with hesitation. His warmth spreading through our touch, it is calming and comforting. With ease he pulls me up off the couch, our fingers intertwined while he stands beside me tossing his legs up dramatically. I burst into a fit of giggles.

"Follow my lead," he coos, and slowly he steps forward releasing my hand from his hold.

He prances around me, and I continue to giggle at his childish dramatic behaviour. He slips his hand into mine once more our palms touching as he holds it at eye level. Starting at my hand as if it were the most entertaining thing in the world. Turning his wrist the back of my hand is now exposed to him as he plants a soft kiss upon it. Mild tingles linger where his lips had rested. My breath stills as I realize his desire, after my rejection he still wants me.

I stumble back expecting to fall, yet his hold instantly secures me.  His single hand on my torso holds me close, and he steps forward, I stumble back to stop our bodies from touching. Shortly, he has me clumsily following his movements across the carpet.

"You are terrible at this," he mocks me with a slight smile as his hand rests securely on my back from constantly stumbling over my own feet several times.

"You are a terrible educator," I counter with a sly smile.

"A fine tongue you have there, my lady," he compliments me. Our confidence mixing in some strange forbidden attraction. Once again, my attitude has returned his carefree personality. No longer am I dancing with the King but the Traveller. His lips lean into my ear, "Spin."

My breath left me as I haze fills me from this strange desire that lingers between us. I look up at King Thaddeus slightly confused before his arm releases my waist and he takes a knee. His other hand slowly raises gently pushing me into a small running twirl around his lowered figure. Quickly, he tugs me back, and my skirt flares out in action. My steps tumbling uncontrolled towards him and his arms rapidly entrap my hips, securing me to his body once more, and he hoists me up into the air. I can barely breathe at our proximity, yet here I am dancing with King Thaddeus of Alexandria.

~Whoooowooo!! Finally this story has become the romance I claim it to be! Everyone enjoying this? Shout out your thoughts!~