His Secret Slave to Scandalous Queen

"Every single one of them," Theodora said. "His Majesty wishes to focus on courting the French princess without distraction," she added.

Geoffrey looked at Lionel. Lionel looked at Geoffrey. Neither man spoke, but the exchange was fluent enough. It said, quite clearly, that Her Grace had either lost her grip on recent events or had chosen a lie so insulting that it deserved admiration for sheer arrogance. To suggest that he had left a message because he wished to court the French princess without distraction was clearly false.

"I am quite certain His Majesty left no such instruction," Lionel said.

Theodora turned her head slowly towards him. "And who are you to question what my son tells me?"

"I am his personal guard."

"Then this has nothing to do with you, does it?"

Geoffrey leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. "I would like to be specific, then. Miss Valenti—"

"Is a court mistress, is she not?" Theodora interrupted.

"Miss Valenti is His Majesty’s acknowledged favourite and a woman placed under royal protection before he departed."

Theodora smiled faintly. "You may call her what you wish. I call her what she is."

Geoffrey continued, "Even if I accepted your premise, which I do not, surely this alleged instruction from His Majesty cannot include Miss Valenti."

"Oh, it does. I have it in writing." Theodora reached into the inner fold of her gown and drew out a rolled parchment tied with narrow black ribbon. She held it out to Geoffrey.

Geoffrey took it. He untied the ribbon, unrolled the parchment, and began to read. Lionel watched him because Geoffrey’s face would tell him the truth before the words did. At first, the Lord Chancellor looked irritated. Then concerned. Then, with terrible slowness, the colour drained from his face.

Theodora’s smugness settled comfortably around her.

"I do not believe this," Geoffrey said.

"You had better not," Lionel replied at once. "Whatever is written there was not written by His Majesty’s hand."

The Lord Chancellor turned the parchment towards the light. He examined the script, the signature, the wording, and then the seal. His thumb brushed the wax carefully. "The seal appears genuine." He handed the parchment to Lionel.

Lionel took it with his eyes fixed on Theodora. If hatred had been lawful evidence, Her Grace would already have been condemned. He lowered his gaze to the page.

The document was arranged with chilling neatness. The names of the court women were written in alphabetical order, each followed by a space for rank, dowry.

Then he saw Livia Valenti. At the bottom sat the king’s authority.

The seal.

The real seal.

Lionel’s fingers tightened around the parchment. His mind raced back through every fact he knew. Henry had taken his personal seal with him. The casket had been locked before departure. Stephen had checked it. Lionel had seen it secured among the king’s travelling papers. Only Henry could open it.

Theodora could not have reached it.

Could she?

Geoffrey’s face was grave. "The instruction is irregular, but it bears authority."

Lionel looked at her then. "What have you done?"

"I have obeyed my son’s written wish."

"You lie."

"Prove it."

"Do not buy this, my lord," Lionel said.

"If it is an order given under the king’s authority," Geoffrey said carefully, "then I cannot simply toss it into the fire because it offends my better judgement."

"The king did not write this. You know he did not order this."

Geoffrey’s gaze lifted. "I know what I suspect. I also know what I can prove."

Lionel stepped closer to the table. "Then wait until His Majesty returns."

"The letter expressly says the matter is to be completed before His Majesty’s return."

"I do not care what it says." Lionel threw the parchment on the desk. "Why is this being brought forward now? Why not the day after the king left? Why wait?"

Theodora’s expression remained serene. "I have been unwell...And Lady Bella’s death has weighed upon the entire court," Theodora continued. "There was also the funeral to consider. One cannot conduct household reforms while a family mourns."

Geoffrey looked down at the parchment again, then spoke with reluctance. "I shall speak with Miss Valenti. I must determine whether she knows anything that explains this."

"What could she possibly know?"

Geoffrey’s voice was measured. "Perhaps she quarrelled with His Majesty before he left. Perhaps there was some private exchange between them that altered his intention."

"The whole damned courtyard saw him kiss her before riding for France." Lionel pointed out.

Geoffrey set the parchment down. "I do not say that this is true. I say that every explanation must be examined before we decide which law we are prepared to break."

Theodora chuckled softly. Both men turned to her. "You sicken me."

Geoffrey’s brows rose. "That is an unfortunate development, considering your recent recovery."

Theodora ignored him. "Both of you stand here twisting yourselves into knots over a mere harlot. You speak of her as if she already wears a crown. You guard her as if England’s peace rests between her legs. You hesitate over my son’s sealed instructions because neither of you can bear to admit that he has come to his senses."

"I will follow my son’s instructions. I do not care for your doubts, or your pathetic softness towards a woman who has brought nothing but blood into this palace. I shall expect the list of eligible noblemen by tomorrow. I will review each candidate and select suitable matches. At least I am arranging marriages to men of rank. Many women in their position would be grateful for so charitable a settlement."

She turned, her skirts whispering over the floor, and crossed to the door with satisfaction.

"You have to stop this," Lionel said.

Geoffrey pressed both hands to the table and bowed his head. "I cannot simply stop it."

"You can."

Geoffrey looked up. "I cannot go against a sealed order bearing the king’s authority. If I do, Her Grace will take it straight to the Archbishop. She will dress my refusal as treason."

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