Beneath The Mask
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- Parts 5
Beatrice tilted her head, studying Theo with a curious glint in her eyes. "Theo, you seemed rather fixated on Henry just now. Are you... jealous?"
Theo scoffed, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Jealous? Ridiculous."
Beatrice grinned mischievously. "Oh, come now, Theo. Don't pretend you weren't shooting daggers at him."
Theo shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms. "I was merely observing."
"Sure, Theo. Observing with intensity," Bea teased, raising an eyebrow.
"He's just..." Theo paused, searching for the right word. "Overbearing."
Beatrice chuckled softly. "Well, lucky for you, he's not my type."
Theo's jaw tightened, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "I never asked."
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#54
elizabethan
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***Warning: Explicit Sexual Content*** Lavinia gripped her sister's elbow, as the dinner guests mingled in the garden, champagne flutes in hand. "What is the matter? You look... um, belligerent." "I'm going to be imprisoned for crimes against the crown before this night is over, sister," Elizabeth said, with a good dose of malice, and swiftly downed the contents of her glass, in a most unladylike way. "Care to explain before we go in for dinner?" "I wish I could explain, but I really don't know where to begin, and I'm afraid you are the last person I should be telling my tale to." Lavinia looked puzzled. "Try me." Elizabeth sighed, wishing she did not have a sister who had chosen to live the rest of her life married to God. She was supposed to be the one person she could go to and talk about womanly things, damn her eyes. "All I will say is that earlier today I had an unfortunate encounter with my betrothed... and his... um..." she fumbled for the right word. She supposed penis was the correct, scientific term, but saying the word seemed plain wrong in the presence of her pious sister. She therefore made a vague, awkward, wave-like gesture in the general area of her middle, blushing furiously. Had Lavinia been drinking champagne, she might have choked on it, but thankfully, she did not indulge in spirits. She did look, however, aghast. "I beg your pardon?" Elizabeth shook her head, turning her attention to the other side of the terrace, where the king and queen were calling their guests' attention. This was not the time, nor the place to divulge any further details. "Well, speak of the devil..." Elizabeth muttered, snatching another glass of champagne from a nearby valet. Set in a fictonal kindgom, this is the story of Elizabeth who begrudgingly arrives at the royal palace to finally wed Henry, the haughty prince to whom she had been promised since they were chldren.
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