His Secret Slave to Scandalous Queen

"With her, I am not being measured for advantage every second," Henry said. "She does not smile because she was trained to. A few hours a day, I would like to forget."

"Maybe when you go hunting with the Duke of Kingsmere tomorrow, you could unwind."

Henry glanced at him.

Lionel shrugged one shoulder. "He does not really treat you like the king."

"Does the duke own a vagina?" Henry asked.

The question was delivered so solemnly, that Lionel very nearly lost control of his horse from laughing. He choked on it instead, coughing into his fist while the animal beneath him tossed its head in offended confusion.

"My lord," Lionel managed at last, "I would not be shocked if he had one hidden somewhere. You never know with the Duke of Kingsmere."

That pulled a proper smile from Henry.

"You can ask him when we go hunting tomorrow."

Lionel snorted. "I’m sure he will have some vague response and I would have to spend the rest of the day wondering if it were true."

Whitehall’s gates stood open ahead of them now, torchlight wavering against stone. Guards straightened as the two riders approached. Stable boys hurried across the yard.

"He almost caught Stephen at the brothel tonight."

Henry’s expression did not change much. "If it is the duke, I am not worried. Richard has always been good with secrets."

"Secrets such as the king slipping about the city to spend time with a woman living in a brothel?" Lionel asked. "I think he may keep it to himself, certainly. But he will absolutely have one or two opinions about it."

Henry gave him a sidelong glance as they passed under the archway. "Are you telling me not to say anything to him?"

"Far be it from me to tell Your Majesty what to do."

Henry waited.

Lionel sighed, surrendering to the look. "But yes," he said. "I think that would be wise, sire."

"Noted."

They finally reined in near the mounting block, where a pair of grooms rushed forward to take the horses. Henry swung down first. Lionel dismounted a moment later. The night’s freedom had ended the moment they crossed the gate. Henry seemed to feel it too; Lionel could always tell by the way his face settled, how the private man withdrew and left the sovereign in his place.

Still, before turning toward the inner passage, Henry looked back once.

"Good night, Lionel."

"And to you, sire."

*****

Sleep had deserted both Jane and Livia entirely. Their chamber was dark save for the low, trembling light of a single candle set in a brass holder on the washstand. The flame had burned so long it had begun to lean, spilling wax in pale crooked trails down its side. Outside, the brothel had at last gone quiet. No footsteps in the passage. No drunken laughter from below. No doors opening and shutting with secretive little clicks.

Livia sat cross-legged on the bed, the little copy of La Vita Nuova still in her lap, she had not truly read a word since coming back from the roof.

"Maybe he will marry you!" Jane said suddenly, her eyes widening with such delighted madness that Livia could not help laughing.

"Jane," Livia said, "I shall not dream that high."

"Why not? Men have done more foolish things for less."

"Yes, but never with any lasting good sense."

Jane pointed at her. "Perhaps he is one of the rare ones with both foolishness and good sense."

Livia shook her head, smiling despite herself. "I am content with getting away from here."

"Just make sure you visit me often."

Livia looked up at her then. Jane had become more than a friend in that place. She was the sort of family misfortune sometimes gave a person in exchange for everything else. "I promise."

Jane nodded once, satisfied enough to continue worrying. "We do have to think about Beaumont, though. I do not believe he will let you go so soon. He will want to squeeze every coin he can out of you first, until you are old and dried up."

Livia laughed. "That is a horrible image."

"It is the truth anyway. Take me for example."

"Surely," Livia said, glancing down at the book in her lap, "he will accept money in exchange."

Jane’s face twisted with doubt. "I hope so."

Then Jane straightened a little and fixed Livia with a suddenly serious look. "Anyways," she said, "remember everything I taught you?"

Livia nodded.

"You cannot afford to get this wrong. Seduce him. Slowly." Jane held up one finger. "Do not rush. Make him work for every inch. Let him think he’s pursuing you even as you reel him in."

"And how exactly—"

"Touch him." Jane interrupted. "Everywhere. Let your body do the convincing your words cannot."

Livia swallowed.

"Let him see the want in your eyes," Jane continued. "Express what you feel. Tell him, don’t be afraid to speak. Men are simple creatures. They love nothing more than hearing that they are wanted. They want to believe that they have conquered a woman’s body."

"And if I cannot — what if I’m not convincing enough?"

"You have a face like that and you’re worried about being convincing. You have one shot," Jane said. "One night. Do not waste it on nerves."

"Do I really have to—" Livia cleared her throat delicately. "Touch his... thing. Is that entirely necessary?"

"His thing." Jane pressed two fingers to her mouth, composing herself. "Good lord, Livia."

"I’m serious."

"I know you are, which is precisely what makes it funnier." Jane shook her head, still smiling. "If you mean his cock, then yes. Own it. For that night, it belongs to you as much as it belongs to him. You will be the one deciding what happens to it."

Livia looked pained.

"Your eyes, your touch, your mouth, your words. They are power. Use them." Jane leaned forward. "Make him beg for you. Make him feel losing you would cost him something he cannot name and cannot replace."