Honor the Throne (EXCERPT ONLY)

II

Hand sewn leather boots stepped with purpose on the carved stone flooring of the grand palace. The noble man, young in age, tugged at the spring green doublet he wore. Silently he prepared for what he was about to do. Walking from the private apartments of his father through the voracious foyer, to the encompassing stairs, eventually he entered the king's wing of the palace located on the second level. The double doors made of the heaviest and most sturdy wood hid the king's private chambers at the end of the corridor. There was an alley off to the right. That is where the man with the honey hair journeyed. He approached the largest door on the right. It was open in invitation. Purposely he entered a presence chamber that rivaled the one in the queen's wing. There he found the fiery head mistress. She was sitting in an immaculate chair with red suede padding and a high carved back. The chair resembled a throne fashioned for royalty. The mistress held a brown leather bond book in her hands. She was not alone. There were five other girls, around her age, present. They were ready and willing to do her bidding.

"Lady Chelsea," the honey haired man bowed at the waist and lowered his head. It was a sign of respect for her station.

She set aside her book with a welcoming grin. "Sir Carter. Rise brother and come greet me properly." She giggled as Carter rushed forward placing loving kisses upon her cheeks. "I did not know you had returned to court. How was your trip to France? What bidding of His Majesty did you do?" Chelsea inquired. The king had been quiet about her brother's trip. She knew the pope was visiting the French king. Chelsea could only hope that King Maxwell was presenting their union to the holy clergy.

Carter waved aside her questions. "I acted as a mere diplomat negotiating peace between our kingdoms. Doraland needs France as its ally if we must go to war with England." He informed his only sister.

Chelsea's expectant grin fell. "Is that all?" She demanded. Hesitantly Carter nodded. Chelsea placed a hand on her heart. "Another year is ending and still he has not made an offer for my hand. I have been too easy. I should have demanded he pursue me for longer." She fussed.

Carter glanced to her household silently ordering their departure before he spoke. When the siblings were without company he responded. "You have been His Majesty's sole woman for three years now. He has had no other, but you. You need not fear Chelsea. His Majesty legally a single man, but he belongs to you. You have his daughter. A daughter whom he recognizes as his child." Carter reminded his sister of her daughter, Mary Fitzsimmons. Simmons was the maiden name of the king's mother. Fitz acknowledged Mary as the king's bastard. Despite her sinful origins, the young Mary Fitzsimmons was titled in her own right. An act which would strengthen her ability to take the throne some day – if she must. "The king recognizes her before all. He will marry you. He is only distracted by the threat of war." Carter reassured Chelsea.

Chelsea inhaled deeply and nodded her head. Her confident composure returned. "You are correct brother. Forgive me. I have been vulnerable as of late."

"Are you with child?" Carter questioned in a rushed whisper.

Chelsea pursed her lips. "I am not certain. There is still time for my bleeding to appear. No announcement can be made as of yet."

He grinned happily. "My fertile sister pregnant once more with the king's child."

"Nothing is for certain." Chelsea hissed. She smoothed the autumn pleated skirts of her silk gown. "What brought you here brother? I know you did not come simply to tell me about your diplomatic adventure."

"Our uncle is returning to court with his new wife and daughter." Carter announced watching his sister carefully.

Chelsea blanched upon hearing the announcement. "Our uncle has a daughter. When did this occur?"