NOT ABOUT ANGELS | THE WHITE QUEEN

Chapter XII

It was late in the evening and Anthony was only just heading to bed, almost passing out in the king's outer chamber, having spent the day there, awaiting his audience. So far, his opinion on their new York king was not very high.

Honestly, leaving for days to hunt of all things!

He came across a dark haired woman as she too was wandering the halls, only she was in her night shift, a flimsy shawl covering her shoulders and chest.

"My lady," he bent his knee slightly, not knowing her status. It had become a habit, almost, to do so. By now, he knew better than to accidentally insult a dowager duchess. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Just troubling dreams. Walking it off helps."

"Would you..." he looked up, unsurely. "Would you like to talk about it?"

She brightened up and flashed him a smile, offering him his arm. "My mother, I think."

Anthony frowned and drew closer to her. She shivered slightly and he took his dark cloak from his shoulders and wrapped it around her own. "Do you dream of her often?"

She shook her head. "Not really," she admitted. "I don't even know what she looked like. She died when I was a babe, you see," she pulled the cloak further over her shoulders. "All I have are some diaries and her titles. I know nothing of her."

The thought surprised him. He couldn't imagine not knowing one of his parents, now that he thought about it. But he did believe that if one of them had died, the other one would have kept their memory alive. Her parents must have married for duty then, not love.

"Perhaps talking about her might help? Or talking about your dream."

The mystery woman shook her head. "There is no use dragging around the past. It's best to let her in the past. Dragging her into my present would not be fair to her, it'd be selfish of me. I really should just get to sleep."

"How would that be selfish?"

"She lived for the crown. Bringing her into my life, after more than a decade of surviving on my own, simply because I'm close to the throne would not be fair. She married my father to escape this life and now I'm running headfirst into it."

He cupped the woman's face in his hands. "Your birth and your parent's choices are not your fault."

She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. Anthony watched her serene expression and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek, so very close.

"You are allowed to be selfish, my lady."

"Am I?"

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

He sends for her just as he's promised. Three hours after she hears the riders outside her window, she receives a summons to attend the king immediately.

When she steps into his chamber for the second time, he rises to greet her as she unclasps her cloak. He is wearing only a linen shirt with his breeches, and his hair is damp. He must have bathed before sending for her.

"Edward, I've been waiting for your return," Charlotte approaches him at once, taking his hands in hers as he looks at her admiringly. She is wearing a shift that could pass for a nightgown, and she is aware of how in some lights it can be almost translucent, how he no doubt can see her small-clothes beneath. "Did you enjoy your hunt?"

"Yes, it was successful. We killed some deer, and I slew a stag with one bolt," he informs her proudly, excitement in his voice.

"And your bow? How did it perform?"

"It lodged quite deeply in the stag's skull and couldn't be retrieved at first," he says, reaching for her waist and bringing her closer to him.

"What a strong weapon. You must have looked magnificent, slaying the stag. And with only one shot! That's very impressive," she takes a step back and reaches out to touch the bow with a finger, then turns back to Edward.

"It's different between animals and men," His voice is low, his eyes intent on her. "With an animal, it can be thrilling as you know."

Charlotte gives him a half-smile, lowering her eyes as she steps closer to him once more. Edward pulls her closer and she gasps as he starts kissing her neck.

"This time, we won't be interrupted," he breathes into her ear, and her heart races, but she is not sure if she is excited or afraid. She knows she should resist him, but she can't bring herself to do it. One arm wrapped around her waist, he starts unlacing her corset before letting it fall to the floor. He steps back after she has unlaced the string of his white shirt. After removing his shirt, he stares at her with a love-struck gaze in his eyes and she stares unabashedly back.

He was perfect, there was no other way to describe him. Even with silvery lines going across his chest from the recent battles, he was perfect. She imagined his bronzed skin pressed flush against her own pale skin and smiles slightly.

The ivory queen and the golden king.

He walks towards her again and brushes a few strands of her behind her ear before cupping her cheek and bringing his lips to hers. His hand goes to her shoulder and she feels the knot becoming looser before it falls to the floor, pooling around her feet. Moaning at feeling his hands on her bum, she walks forward, causing him to take a step back as well as he releases her lips.

Daringly, she pressed herself closer to him as his lips start kissing her neck, drawing a line through her collarbone. He groans, seemingly at the feel of her body pressed against his hardness. She rolled her hips against his own experimentally and this time, it was her who groaned when his lips left her skin.

"Don't tease me so," she grins at his words before he kissed her again. She fumbled with the waist of his trousers before finally, they fall to the floor and he takes the opportunity to take her into his arms and lay her down on his bed.

She smiles at his parted lips, his small groan, and he grabs her shoulders and pushes her back onto his bed, pressing his lips to hers, kissing her neck, her throat. Then, just as she's pictured when alone in her bed, he takes her wrists and holds them fast against the coverlet, dragging his lips across her breast. He lets one wrist go and puts his fingers between her legs. His touch is skilled and within a short time, she is writhing beneath him, a feeling of stickiness between her thighs and this time she doesn't fear what is to come. She moans and bucks her hips into his hand. But he moves down, sliding his fingers inside her wetness, driving them deep inside her.

"Please," she moans.

"Please what?" His voice is amused, but she can see the lust in his eyes. She knows he wants this as much as she does, even though she is risking much more than him.

"Please, Edward. Take me."

He reaches to take his cock in his hand, and then finally, pushing her legs apart, he thrusts into her with a long groan of pleasure. Her arms go to his back when he enters her, clutching him tightly as she suppresses a whimper.

He stills inside her as her nails scrap his back, whispering. "I'll go slowly, I promise. Tell me if anything hurts."

She only nods as a tear falls from her eye and tries to allow her body to accommodate him. He is inside her, filling her, and as he begins to move over her, Charlotte feels her body come alive, in a way that it never had before.