The Cruel King and The Captured Queen

Chapter 9 - Part 2 - The illness

After a long staggered walk, both of us are barely able to move forward. We finally pass through the castle walls. I can feel the sweat dripping from my face, I feel gross and damp. The walls feel as if they wobble in a wave as we exit from under the arching entrance. My vision blurs as another wave of fatigue overcomes me and Margaret cries out under my weight. She struggles desperately to hold us both up.

"Help! Someone help!"

Soldiers come barrelling into my view, they freeze as they register I am the King's mistress. Confusion and uncertainty still them from helping us. She struggles desperately under me as I watch everyone spinning before me. Their bodies tilting as the ground teeters.

"Help her, you idiots," she screams.

None move to aid us, either they are nervous that they will catch my illness or they don't want to be detected by the Queen assisting the King's mistress. I was like a plague to them in more ways than one.

Loud footsteps come crashing down along the stone path nearby, and arms immediately scope me up. A flash of ginger hair passes my field of vision, Callum is here.

"Thank God," Margaret whispers, "Take her to her room, please."

My head spins as I try to regain visual stability of my surroundings. Blinking as the grass and sky disappear replaced by a wave of clay and wood. My head becoming slack as I tip it back against Callum's shoulder. I watch the ceiling beams blur as I'm rushed towards my chambers.

Softness envelopes my body and I quickly register I am now laying on a bed. Blinking I see Margaret and Callum leaning over me mirroring frantic and concerned faces, they give each other a look, and I close my eyes for a second. I can't take staring up at their worried faces anymore. A cold damp cloth touches my forehead, and I moan. Opening my eyes in shock, I see only Margaret remained in the room, leaning over me as she gently presses on the cloth letting the water drip down into my hairline.

"I'm sorry," I whimper out weakly.

"No need to be sorry, things happen," she dismisses me as any woman would their child.

"You should go, I don't want you to catch this," I cry out pushing her hands away.

She wraps her hands around mine calming my movement. Placing a hand on my cheek, stroking my clammy skin comfortingly.

"I doubt I can catch this, dear," she smiles softly with a hint of pity. My vision finally stabilizing as the coolness eases my suffering.

"What do you mean?" I question her in panic.

She tugs over a chair sitting down beside me, "Claire, you need to be honest with me now."

The sweat starts to pour from my skin like the sun is burning on me from inside this dark room, "Honest about what?"

"Claire," she gives me a pointed look, "when did you lay with the King?"

"I didn't," I whine.

"Dear, you are having morning sickness," the amusement trickling in as she expresses knowledge and truth behind my lies.

Fear, that's all I felt. She knows. I have waited and suffered for so long, and now it's too late.

Silently, Margaret allows me time to process things. Fear pumps my heart faster, my muscles tense painfully. The King needs a legitimized heir, this child is a bastard. The only way to get what he needs is to have the Kingdom believe our child belongs to Queen Katherine. That means, he will need to dispose of me. Trap me in this room for fewer eyes to witness my swollen belly. I need to escape now before he finds out!

"No!" I cry out. Suddenly I push myself up, the room pivots and I force myself to remain upright. I have to get out of here.

"Easy, you need rest," she says as she gently pushes me back down. "Do you want me to call the King?"

I begin to thrash around, I need out of here. If I'm carrying I'll be trapped here forever, I could die. My family. Oh god, my family is in danger if Chadwick finds out. She leans over me pinning me to the bed to still my movements.

"No don't tell him, please," I cry out, tears pour down and into my hairline mixing with sweat.

Struggles turn to uncontrollable sobs, and I beg, "Please!"

She slowly releases her hold on me and sits back down, "You really were planning on leaving weren't you?" She is practically in shock as she speaks. I nod, whining as I regret the action when it causes the dizziness to return. Margaret looks around uncertain what to do with herself. This truth is something she never expected. It was apparent she had no idea I wasn't here willingly. I'm tortured between running away from the King to protect my family or staying here and hiding from Chadwick. "You need to eat, let me get you something. I will be right back," she says before rushing out needing to get away from me to process this information.

After she leaves the room, I stumble over towards the desk. Grabbing at everything as my strength has still not returned. Sitting down I slump over trembling from insufficient nourishment. I need to warn my family before it's too late. How can I abandon them for this long without a word? They need to be aware, to be prepared for whatever the King decides. My only hope is left with my family's trust in me.

Octavius,

Please forgive me, I have sinned. Forgive my vagueness, but I am fearful that our letter will be intercepted. Our family must leave the village before word spreads to Chadwick, you are all in danger. I genuinely believe the King will not allow me to return anymore. This may be the last I am able to write for a while. I wish desperately that I could see you again, Brother. I'm sorry I never wrote before this. I honestly believed I was returning home to you.

Sincerely,

Claire.

Folding the page, I get up to move to the bed. My legs wobble, and I plop back down in defeat. I feel undeniable exhaustion taking over, and I rest my head against the desk. What if I am found out? Word of the King's mistress being pregnant will spread to the village and Chadwick will desire revenge, lashing out on my family. What if the King disposes of me after I bare him a child? With me out of the way, the crown can claim this child legitimate. He wouldn't keep me around to watch as he raises my child, he does not even want me around at dinner in fear of offending the Queen. I am an actual threat to her now. My family and I's lives are in danger.

The door creaks open in the silence of the room and Margaret quietly enters. I glance her way as I see Callum closing the door with a worried expression. She is carrying an ordinary meal of bread and water on a tray. Her eyes widen as she realizes I have moved, remaining calm she sets it down on the desk and sits beside me.

"That should help, you probably just lacking substance," she tries to ease my worry with gentle rubbing of my back. I shake my head afraid to swallow anything, the aftertaste of nausea is horrendous, and I have lost my appetite. "Please, just try. You need to keep up your strength. The first few months are the hardest," she confesses.

I began crying as I realize she is a mother of two. Of course, she would register the signs far quicker than any other. To think I could lie to her was absurd. I allow my body to tremble under my sorrow.

"Please, do me a favour?" I whisper as she looks at me with a question.

Placing the letter into her hands, I beg her, "Get this letter to the Tucket's in Hull, they need to hear from me before it's too late."

"Oh Claire, you need not be this dramatic. It is merely morning sickness, and common among women with child," she tries to ease my woes.

"For my sake, I hope you are wrong," I whisper.

~Thanks for reading! And this is where I feel like being evil and ending the book for ever! Naw! I'm not cruel... I'll get that chapter out in no time! Stuff is starting to get good! Thoughts? Feelings? Leave them in the comments! I wanna know!~