Chapter 293: I Have Some Idea
"I remember you vaguely saying yes to marrying me," Henry said, his eyes brightening with the first true mischief Livia had seen in them since he returned. "I am the King of England, hence..."
"Oh my Lord," she gasped again.
Henry’s mouth curved. "I thought you would have caught up hours ago."
"Hours ago, I was more concerned with whether my organs were still in agreement with the rest of me. Do you understand what that is?"
"I have some idea, yes." His smile deepened, though he was watching her carefully now. Beneath the teasing, he understood. Of course he understood. He had been born near the throne, raised beneath its shadow, and crowned by its cruelty. He knew what it demanded. He knew better than anyone that a crown was expectation.
"You would have duties," he said gently. "You would preside over your own household. You would receive petitions, patronise charities and religious foundations, give favour where favour is useful, help manage court appointments, stand beside me at council when needed, and represent the realm every now and then."
Livia’s eyes widened further.
"And yes," he added, "there will be pressure for children. An heir will matter even more if France chooses war."
"Stop talking," Livia snapped. "You are not helping."
Henry pressed his lips together.
Livia dragged both hands over her face. "Holy Mary, I agreed to marry a man and somehow became responsible for England."
"How about this?" he said. "Before you are queen, you will be my wife. I belong to you. Just you."
Livia stared at him strangely. "You still have a courtful of mistresses."
"Livia, I have not been with any of them since I met you. Most of them," he continued, "I have never even touched. The court seem to think a satisfied king functions efficiently....I will make proper arrangements for them. Those who wish to leave court will be settled. Those who wish to marry will do so by choice. Those who wish for positions in the queen’s household may be considered by you, if you want them."
"My household," Livia repeated faintly.
"Yes."
Her body sagged back against the side of the bed. "Oh God." She leaned her head back, breathing slowly. "Do I need to learn anything?" she asked.
"Considering your non-royal status, yes. You will be tutored."
"By whom?" she asked, raising one suspicious brow.
Henry laughed softly. "Not my mother. Never my mother. There are capable noblewomen who can guide you. Wives of senior lords."
"Did you announce it to council?"
"Yes."
She inhaled sharply. "Already?"
"Geoffrey has accepted to be your sponsor and will pay your dowry."
Livia looked up quickly. "Lord Langford?"
"Yes."
Livia looked troubled. "A dowry from his family is too much."
Henry squeezed her hand. "Then let us call it a bridge. He stands as guardian and sponsor, the court receives a name it cannot easily dismiss. I will support him," Henry said. "Discreetly of course. I do intend to support him and return whatever I can to him."
"He agreed to it?" Livia asked.
"Yes."
"Willingly?"
Henry smiled faintly. "He suggested it."
"I suppose I should thank him," she said.
"We could visit him," Henry replied. "Together. We shall express our appreciation properly."
"I would like that."
"Come here," he said.
Livia allowed herself to be gathered against him. Her head came to rest against his chest. Henry’s arms closed around her.
"I love you, Livia Valenti," he said. "And by God," he added, "I am glad you stole that book that day."
Livia smacked him lightly on the chest. Then her stomach gave a quiet complaint. "I am hungry."
"I shall make sure sustenance is provided, Your Majesty."
Livia groaned. "Stop doing that."
"You must get used to it."
Before she could reply, Henry leaned across her bed and pulled the bell rope. Once the bell had rung, he settled back beside her on the floor.
A few moments later, the door opened and Tabitha appeared.
"My la—"
The words stuck in her throat. Her gaze moved from Livia, seated on the floor to Henry, who was sitting beside her.
"Your Majesty," she scolded.
"Uh-oh," he muttered.
Livia pressed her lips together. Henry scrambled to his feet.
"I was..." Henry began. "We were..." then he stopped and straightened. "All right. Mrs Crowe, tell me again why I am frightened of you. I am the King of England. I can do whatever I want."
Tabitha’s brow lifted. She may not have raised Henry, but she had been beside him while he was growing up, just as she had raised Richard. Henry was not as much a handful as Richard, but she still had the skills to make him behave any time, any day.
Henry cleared his throat. "I, uh..." He looked from Tabitha to Livia. "Livia is hungry."
Livia, who had been enjoying the rare sight of Henry being scolded into obedience, suddenly found the full force of Mrs Crowe’s attention upon her.
"And will you get off the floor too?" Tabitha snapped.
"Yes, ma’am," Livia said at once. She pulled herself carefully onto the bed.
"I will bring her meal. Shall I have Stephen bring your luncheon here, sire?"
Henry nodded quickly. "Yes. Of course."
Tabitha took one step towards the door, then paused. "I do hope you both do not plan to eat it off the floor."
The door closed. Only then did Livia allow herself to laugh properly. It began as a small sound, then bloomed before she could stop it. Her hand flew to her mouth, but that only made it worse. Henry, the King of England, had been thoroughly managed.
"You have no spine," Livia said.
Henry pointed at the door. "You may laugh, but that woman is terrifying."
Livia laughed harder. The laughter caught in her throat and turned suddenly into a cough. Her body folded forward, one hand pressed to her chest as pain flashed through her ribs.
"Livia." He was beside her in a second, one hand at her back, the other reaching for the cup of water near the bed.
She lifted a hand to stop him. "I am fine. My throat is still raw." She took a careful breath. "I probably should not laugh so hard. But it was worth it."
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