His Secret Slave to Scandalous Queen

Chapter 156: You Sent For Me

Outside, the corridor was no safer. Princess Madeleine stood waiting, with Elodie just behind her. Madeleine’s shoulder was still bandaged beneath her gown.

Livia glanced up. She caught the narrowing of Madeleine’s eyes. The princess was glaring at Bella.

Madeleine looked at Bella as though the poor girl had personally stolen the sun, the moon, and His Majesty’s last remaining sense.

Bella, half-dead and held upright by maids had no strength left to care. Livia lowered her gaze and walked past quietly.

For once in her miserable life, invisibility could be useful. Madeleine’s attention stayed fixed on Bella.

Even half-dead, the witch still managed to hoard the king’s attention. It was obscene. It was insulting.

She straightened as much as she could and walked into the throne room. The king was seated on the throne now. Madeleine curtsied at once. "Your Highness..."

"Princess..." Henry said, still seated upon the throne. "Come closer."

Madeleine lifted her chin. The command was mild yet the stillness of him made the hairs along the back of her neck rise. "You sent for me, Your Highness."

"Yes, indeed," he said. "I have a theory to run by you, after Lionel and the captain of the guard gave me your report."

Madeleine’s fingers tightened briefly in the folds of her gown, then relaxed. "Of course, Sire."

"I think the attack from two days ago was not carried out by an outsider," he said.

Madeleine’s expression did not change. "No?"

"No." His gaze remained steady. "I think it was done by someone living within this palace."

Her pulse struck once, hard. "How troubling."

"Very."

"Whitehall is well guarded."

"Which is why an outsider makes little sense."

"Unless the guards were careless."

Henry continued, "I also think whoever carried out the attack had little experience with a blade."

"Why would you think that?"

Henry looked to the stool beside him. A royal dagger lay there, sheathed in dark leather. He picked it up.

Madeleine’s mouth went dry. Henry rose from the throne and descended the dais. The sound of his boots against the floor seemed indecently loud. With one smooth motion, he drew the blade from its sheath.

Steel caught the light. Madeleine forced herself not to step back. Henry walked up to her, stopping close. His face was unreadable.

"A professional killer," Henry said quietly, "would know exactly where to hit to cause instant death, Princess..."

Madeleine raised a brow as Henry spoke. Henry was watching her. He had not summoned her here to chat about palace security or exchange theories. He was studying her face, the timing of her breaths, the movement of her eyes. Gauging. Measuring. Waiting for the first crack. Madeleine would not give him one.

"Okay?" she said, letting just enough confusion enter her voice.

He placed the edge of the dagger lightly against her side. Madeleine’s body went still.

"My lord," she said, forcing out a small chuckle. "What are you doing?"

It was a charming chuckle. A sound meant to turn threat into flirtation.

"Right here," he said quietly, "is a killing place."

Madeleine’s smile held. He moved then, coming to stand before her. The dagger was no longer at her side. He angled it toward her middle.

"Here too."

Her stomach tightened.

Henry lifted the blade higher, to the throat. "Also here."

Madeleine’s mouth went even drier. She forced herself to look bored. It was one of her finest performances, considering her pulse had started behaving like a trapped bird. "Your Highness...I am certain you took your lessons seriously, but I still do not understand the point."

Henry lowered the dagger. "I am wondering...how an assassin would fail twice in one night. Lady Bella lives...You live."

The dagger gleamed between them. Madeleine’s thoughts moved quickly. He had doubts. Doubts could be managed. Doubts could be redirected. The trick was not to deny too hard.

"There could be two of them." Madeleine said.

"Two terrible assassins?" Henry asked. "Now, what are the odds of that?"

"It is not so strange, Your Highness," she said.

"No?"

"No." Her mouth curved faintly. "We often joke about the English at court."

Henry’s brows lifted. "Do you?"

"Of course." She took a small breath. "About how you have weak stomachs for difficult things. The English," she continued lightly, "are very brave theoretically. In practice, you prefer your wars distant, and your battles outsourced."

"You have not seen or heard what we are capable of."

"Then perhaps I have been fortunate."

"Perhaps." Henry turned the dagger in his hand thoughtfully. "You lied to Lionel, Princess."

"What?" she asked. "Did he tell you that?"

"No." Henry took a couple of steps back, giving her space. "He genuinely believed you were telling the truth... Lionel is many things but he is not a fool. If he thought you were lying, he would have told me."

Madeleine’s fingers brushed lightly over the fold of her sleeve. "Then why accuse me?"

"Because I know you lied."

Her eyes narrowed. "On what basis?"

"Because you said a man attacked you."

Madeleine held his gaze. "Yes..."

"You must be mistaken then," Henry said, his voice dangerously even. "Because, Princess... it was a woman."

Madeleine did not blink. "Your Highness....a man attacked me."

"Then someone is lying," he said. "And believe me, it is not Lady Bella."

The anger broke through Madeleine’s face. Her eyes flashed. Her lips parted. Colour rose beneath her skin.

"You would take her word over mine?"

"There," he said softly. "There is the reason I believe you are lying, Madeleine."

Her chin lifted. "Because I am insulted?"

"Because you are furious."

"I have a right to be."

"Yes," Henry said. "Perhaps. But not because I questioned your report." He took one slow step closer. "You are angry because I chose to believe Bella."

Madeleine’s nostrils flared.

"I think you forget who my mother is," Henry said. "She was once a royal mistress. I watched her plot and plead and charm and cut when she had to. I watched her do all manner of things to maintain her standing at court."

(Brought to you by Mar King 1/2)