Page 62 of A Foreign Crown
At last they approached the Queen. She stood outside of a closed door, her expression sending bolts of concern through Aribella.
The maid curtsied and then left them.
As soon as they were alone, Queen Charlotte’s face pinched in concern. “My husband asks for you.”
She gasped. “Me?”
“Yes. You have drawn his eye. In his madness in the past, he has taken to crazed attractions and, on occasion, sought the attention of a previous lady-in-waiting. She always put him off—one of my dearest friends, of course—but now he is asking for you, and I suspect perhaps he confuses you for her.”
“But surely you don’t wish for me to go in to see him?”
“He’s tied to his bed and is in a state of confusion, but he is still the King and the head of my family.”
Aribella shook her head. “You ask too much.”
“Do I?”
She wanted to nod but then wondered if the Queen had her reasons for the request. “What do you want me to do?”
“Put him off. Tell him of his family, his wife. If he listens to you, perhaps you can talk sense into him. That is what my friend used to do, and it worked then. He would call for me again once she’d convinced him.”
Aribella had serious doubts about her ability to do any such thing, but the pleading in the Queen’s face tore at her indecision. “And he won’t be able to touch me? I can leave whenever I’d like?”
“Of course. He is secure.”
Aribella sucked in a great breath, then nodded. She reached for the door with shaking hands and pushed it open.
The room was dark and smelled like earth and the apothecary from the village outside her home before it shut down. The owner there had mixed all manner of tonics and oils to heal and cure. Perhaps another apothecary would try something that could help the King.
“Is that you, my lady?” The King’s voice sounded soft, deep, and almost charming.
“Hello, Your Majesty; I’m Lady Aribella.”
“Ah yes, come in. Come closer.”
She stepped into the room and moved closer to an enormous bed. The King sat up in it, leaning against piles of pillows, his body wrapped tightly in white fabric. But his face seemed at rest, his expression almost congenial. How bizarre. Aribella thought the day she would leave could not come soon enough.
“Please sit down.”
A chair was pulled up next to the bed. She took a seat.
“So you’re the one who has caused such an upheaval in my family.”
“Have I?” Aribella wasn’t sure what to think.
“Not to worry, of course. A good upheaval. My wife could not function without you, she assures me. But my daughters feel you are the obstruction of their every happiness.”
“Oh, well, I—”
“But not to worry about them. I’d never let them marry that mouse of a man, though I do feel I overreacted a bit earlier.”
Aribella mightily agreed, but she said nothing.
“But you—I can see why he would be drawn to such a woman.” His eyes turned greedy, and his gaze traveled over her body.
As her skin crawled with invisible creatures, she rose from her seat.
“Oh, don’t be uncomfortable. I only wish to speak with you, child.”
