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HATING HER KING

(Hating Her King is the sequel to Loving Her Duke and is also the second book of the British Blood Trilogy.) 'Gwen pushed him back, trying to create enough space between them. "I do not love you." Alexander smirked. "You do. You just don't know that you do." Gwen moved back. "Do you know the ways of my heart." "Yes, I do. And it tells the truth. You are only too stubborn to acknowledge it." He moved closer, pressing her against the wall. "When you decide to tell yourself the truth, I will be waiting." He kissed her forehead. "But don't make me wait long. I am not as patient as people think." This time he kissed her lips and staked off, leaving Gwen in a complete daze.' Marriage and a family is all life is to Gwen and she would see to it that she is not humiliated before then. A wife, and not a mistress is what she plans to be, but what can be done when the king of her country makes a proposal to put her by his side? Alexander is used to getting what he wants and getting his way, after all, he is King. But when he sets his eyes on the young and beautiful Guinevere who is just as stubborn as he is, will making her stay at the castle earn him her love, or will it be the beginning of his undoing?

Tiny_Psalm · History
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64 Chs

Preparing For The Council Meeting

"Do you want to? I had thought your assignment was to win me in a staring competition. Or would you rather I plead you to tell me the results of your scouring?"

"No Sir, I apologize." Alexander sighed. How did he appoint such men as his most elite soldiers and spies? Suddenly, he feared for his kingdom. Brimsbol began. "The land thieves have been apprehended and thrown in the dungeon, but the wares of the villagers could not be recovered. Farm produce and livestock, gone. They had successfully sold it before we could catch up with them."

He became incredulous. A terrible pause ensued. Then, "Excuses! Excuses!! Excuses!!!" He exploded, scaring Brimsbol, Edmund and the other servants who stood around the artificial shade. His eyes remained on the man. He had not meant to yell, but from the report the men had given him, to the news he received the day before from his spies, the frustration had finally caught up to him, vexing him in ways unfathomable. He breathed deeply and strongly. "What good would apprehending them do for the villagers then? Their goods have been lost and you bring me prisoners. Do you know what that means?" Silence. "Answer me! Do you know what it means?!"

Brimsbol shook his head vigorously. "No, Your Majesty, I do not."

"They lose faith in me, in my reign, in my authority! And the thieves are becoming ever bolder to attempt vandalism so close to Mainecroft Castle!" He was livid. "I'll tell you what it means. It means, elite soldier, that those unfortunate villagers would be fed from the nation's coffers, and do you know what happens when you tamper with planned values?" Brimsbol's head shook again, vibrating from fear. "You create a void and limit the space, because to prevent starvation, I might forgo security, or shelter, or health!"

"I am truly sorry, Your Majesty, please forgive me." He rose to his feet, quivering. 

Alexander exhaled deeply. He saw the fear but could not be bothered. "Get out of my sight." He mumbled. His voice was barely audible but the scared man heard him clearly and did not hesitate for a moment. "And do not cease your search for their goods!" He yelled after the fleeing man.

Incompetent, they had become, all of them! Undermining his authority and returning with lame and vexing justification for their incompetence. How was he to rule his kingdom effectively when such inept people surrounded him?

And trust? How was he to trust anyone when even his brother would lie to him?

How could Brand keep the affairs of the kingdom from him? It was his kingdom! He was king and until otherwise, he would know of all that happened within. "Edmund!" He called. The servant appeared to stand inches from him, standing to his side. He observed the man. "Have the letters been sent out?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." He said. "They were sent out at dawn yesterday. To the Ministers and the Solicitors, to the Viscounts of Ackley and of Sorway, the Dukes of Chamberleane, Wynton, Waichester, and Carlisle and to His Highness, the Prince."

He was confirming the receivers, Alexander noticed, but at least he was somewhat reliable. "You may depart. All of you." Edmund bowed, and leading the other servants away, they left him to his solitude.

Alexander poured himself another cup of water. The council was to gather in a day, and gather they must for he had called for them. Men and fortunes of the realm that he commanded. The Lords he ruled over, one of which he called friend; and of course his brother. He was looking forward to their meeting somehow. He was looking forward to seeing Carlisle after so long.

Besides his mood, he smiled.

* * *

The sun rose that morning with as much energy as it did the day before, slow and without enthusiasm, struggling behind the gloomy clouds to establish itself. The single light thrived against the dreary weather, but its lack of enthusiasm was not enough to stop the activities of the day.

After his breakfast – or the excuse of it as he had had no appetite – Alexander immersed himself in the duties of his office, while the servants busied about, preparing the castle for the arriving guests. The council meeting would be of great importance to his kingdom, and although he would rather die than admit it, he knew of the importance of the men he had assembled for it, men whose wealth and authority were needed, and demanded.

As he left the Spring Salon after his meeting with the head of the royal guards, Alexander realized how greedy and how great a coward St. James was. He had just approved the release of fifty men from the royal guards as St. James had asked for.

His feet made light taps on the floor as he made his way to the courtroom, going to attend to his never-ending duties and his non stop complaining subjects. Edmund, as always, walked behind him, following and ready to come to him when he called.

"Your Majesty, a note arrived for you at breakfast." He said.

Alexander did not stop. "And I would hear of it now?"

"I apologize, Sire. But you have been occupied for every second ever since."

"Who is it from?"

"The Duke of Carlisle." Edmund replied.

Carlisle? He was on his way down to the castle, why send a note? He couldn't possibly be sending an excuse, could he? "Tell me what it contains." He heard the rustling of paper.

"He says that he is close by, but he has guests and would like them catered to." Edmund said.

Alexander's feet stopped abruptly. He turned to see Edmund inches from him, having stopped himself. "Carlisle brings a guest?"

"It says so here, My Lord."

His eyebrows hitched from excitement. "You do not suppose it is Lady Cossington now, do you?"

Edmund shrugged his shoulders. "I would never fathom, Sire."

Alexander sighed, his excitement dying a natural death. He wondered why he bothered at all. His manservant was many things; knowledgeable, aware, sometimes fast in thoughts, and a good serving man, but he was incredibly terrible at conversations. Commanding, he said. "Read the note to me."

Edmund cleared his throat. "It says, 'Your Majesty, I received your summons and I am currently enroute to the castle as commanded, but I am with guests and would want them greatly cared for. Do not overthink.' After which, he signed, Sire."

Alexander laughed and continued on the journey to the courtroom. Carlisle was with a guest, but it wasn't his affianced, he was perfectly certain. And he was asked not to overthink? He smirked. How could he not when he had been asked not to. "Edmund, prepare for Carlisle's guests."

"Yes Sire. Your other guests are waiting in the courtroom." Edmund bowed and excused himself promptly.

Alexander's smile lingered as he continued his journey to the courtroom. His excitement returned, suddenly too heavy to condone. He had felt it, that the gathering of the Lords would bring great excitement. Who was Carlisle coming with? He wondered. It was no one of the male gender, of that he was certain or Carlisle would have said so in his note. The council meeting could not be any sooner. His smile broadened.

The doormen pushed the heavy doors backwards and Alexander walked into the courtroom with all the regality he possessed. Edmund had told him he had guests. The solicitors.

Without acknowledging the bows and 'Your Majesty' salute echoing from each man, he climbed onto the throne and sat in the relaxed form he loved. He sat like the king he was, and was dressed as the same, exuding a nature that would make even the wealthiest and most powerful man of the realm cower. But he was not about to make himself cower.

"Your Majesty, I was sent by Sir Brimsbol to deliver this note." Alexander accepted it.

It read:

Your Majesty,

Long live the King!

Some of the wares of the villagers have been discovered and we have with success, plundered the hideout of the thieves.

Finally some good news. It wasn't as great as he wished but it was better than nothing. "You can leave."

The man bowed and left.

The other man in the room moved forward. "Your Majesty, I received a letter from Sir St. James."