His Secret Slave to Scandalous Queen

"My mother does not dress me, Your Grace." Madeleine pointed out.

"No, but I assume she knows who does."

Madeleine inhaled slowly, her patience thinning. "Your Grace—"

"I have spoken, Princess," Theodora cut in, voice flat and final. "That’s it."

The princess sighed. Of course. She had seen this coming from the moment Theodora’s mouth curved into that smug little smile. In truth, Madeleine had expected nothing less. That was why she had made the first request at all—to give the woman a chance to refuse it, feel powerful, and then, perhaps, have just enough decency left not to say no twice.

"Understood, Your Grace," Madeleine said, lowering her head just a little.

Theodora watched the movement with obvious satisfaction. She looked like a cat that had finally caught the bird. "Good." she said.

Madeleine kept her face soft, obedient, harmless.

Theodora smiled, basking in the victory that she had finally knocked the princess into submission. "Anything else?"

Madeleine raised her eyes slowly. "Yes, Your Grace." She paused, just long enough to make it seem as though the thought embarrassed her. "I would like your permission to see His Royal Highness." Madeleine lowered her lashes. "It is not good that he is locked away for so long without a female to comfort him. Men are fragile creatures when left alone with their thoughts." She gave the smallest, shyest smile. "Or I could tag along, if you plan on going..."

"You may be right," she said. "But I cannot leave the castle just yet. With the king gone, a royal has to be here."

Madeleine nearly smiled at that. As if castles collapsed without one noble body sitting inside them. She just liked that she could control more people with the king gone.

"But you may go," Theodora continued. "And when you get back, I want to hear everything."

Madeleine bowed her head again, this time to hide the flicker of triumph in her eyes. "Of course. Thank you, Your Grace." Madeleine gave a shy smile.

"I will send word to Lord Ashcroft," Theodora said. "The guards will escort you when you are ready."

Madeleine curtsied once more, graceful enough to satisfy her. Then she turned and left before Theodora could grow a second thought.

It was too easy. Too terribly easy. She smiled as she walked back to her apartments. The woman was delusional. Drunk on the taste of power, swaying under it and the funniest part was that she did not even possess as much power as she believed. All she was; was the mother of the king. She had never been a princess. Never been crowned queen. Never been anything but a mistress, just like the mad Lady Bella.

Theodora dressed her madness in authority.

Madeleine reached her chamber and closed the door behind her. Only then did she let the smile fall.

"My lady?" her maid asked.

"Pack lightly," Madeleine said.

*****

Henry was quite surprised when he was informed that the princess was at the Tower of London to see him. He was even more surprised when Lionel told him she had gotten the queen mother’s approval to visit.

That, more than anything, made him suspicious.

"What is my mother up to this time?" Henry muttered.

Lionel shrugged and Henry gave him a flat look. Henry got to his feet. He had not expected visitors, certainly not her. His confinement was comfortable enough.

He headed to the guest area on the floor where he was staying. The moment she turned to look at him, a smile broke on her face.

"Your Majesty." She curtsied.

"Princess. How have you been?"

"Fine now that I see you are alright." Madeleine stepped closer, her eyes moving over him quickly. "You are alright, aren’t you?"

Henry gave a faint smile. "As alright as I can be."

"Your Majesty," she said softly, "I wish I could have been there to support you. But so much was happening. I was terribly ill, and when I finally was able to be up and about, my maid decided it would be a great idea to hang herself." she sighed. "I couldn’t wait anymore. I had to beg the queen mother to allow me see you."

Henry’s gaze sharpened at once. "You begged the queen mother?"

Madeleine smiled, sweet as honey and twice as dangerous. "Your Highness, I assure you, I am quite capable of grovelling."

"No," Henry said flatly.

"Well, when it comes to your mother, I had better learn how to grovel," Madeleine said.

Henry’s mouth twitched. "Now you are being honest."

Madeleine smiled and glanced around, taking in the heavy tapestries, the narrow windows, the thick stone walls. "I missed our little walks...I thought I could come by and we take a walk. It will do you good."

"A walk sounds nice," Henry said, "but won’t it be too late before you go back to the palace?"

"You don’t want me to stay?"

"Did my mother say you could stay?" Henry asked.

Madeleine gave him a look. "Your Highness... do not tell me you are afraid of your mother."

Henry tilted his head, pretending to consider the question with grave seriousness. "Princess..." He paused, as if weighing matters of state. "Yes."

Madeleine rolled her eyes. "A king afraid of his mother. How inspiring." She stepped closer, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt. Her eyes lifted to his. "I was also thinking..."

"Stop, Princess," Henry instructed.

Madeleine’s fingers stilled in the fabric of his doublet. She let go of him slowly. "Your Highness," she said, lifting her chin, "I am going to be your queen."

Henry tightened his lips a little. Not because he was unsure of it. The betrothal existed. The treaties existed. The expectations existed.

But wanting it was different. Looking forward to it was different.

Madeleine saw the hesitation before he could bury it. Her smile thinned. "I am going to be your queen, right?"

Henry looked away. "Look," he said, carefully, "yes. But I don’t want to start anything right now that would cause problems down the road."