His Secret Slave to Scandalous Queen

Chapter 141: Both Are In Critical Condition

"Interesting," Geoffrey mused.

Suddenly, the dining room doors opened.

"My lord!" The Lord Chancellor’s valet burst in, pale-faced and breathless.

Everyone looked up. Geoffrey’s expression sharpened instantly.

"What is it?"

"A messenger came from the palace," the valet said, breathless, one hand still gripping the edge of the door as if he had run the whole way himself. "There seems to be an assassin loose in Whitehall."

The room went cold.

The valet swallowed. "Lady Bella and Princess Madeleine have both been attacked. Both are in critical condition."

Livia’s breath caught. "No," Livia whispered.

Everyone at the table rose at once. Chairs scraped loudly against the floor. Geoffrey moved first, all warmth gone from his face, replaced by the Lord Chancellor in full command. The father vanished. The statesman took over.

"Go now," Geoffrey boomed to the valet. "Have them get the king to the safe house. Now!"

"Yes, my lord."

"And send word to the Captain of the Guard. No one leaves."

The valet bowed and hurried out. Richard’s attention was on Livia. She had turned to him, wide-eyed. Fear was written plainly there. Fear, and concern so sharp Richard knew instantly who it was for.

Bella.

"You want to go right now?" he asked.

"Yes, please." Her voice shook. "I need to check on her. You can send a guard with me if it will give you peace. Besides, I’m not important. No one is interested in me."

Richard looked toward the door, then back at her. Whitehall would be in chaos. The last thing he wanted was to bring Livia anywhere near that mess.

But Bella was her friend and Livia had so few of those.

He sighed. "I’ll have the messenger send word forward."

Her eyes softened with gratitude. "Thank you."

He reached for her cloak from the back of the chair and wrapped it around her shoulders himself. Richard left the room to find the messenger.

Somewhere near the entryway, one of Geoffrey’s men was already calling for horses. Richard found the palace messenger near the hall, still flushed from the ride.

"Listen carefully," Richard said. "Miss Bellamy will be coming to Whitehall. Word must go ahead that she is to be allowed entry."

"Your Grace, the palace is under lockdown."

"I know."

"No one enters without approval."

"Then obtain approval."

"My lord—"

Richard stepped closer, the last of his patience thinning. "She is Lady Bella’s French tutor and close companion. Lady Bella may ask for her if she wakes. If any guard wishes to argue, tell them she is the duchess of Kingsmere to be and the Duke of Kingsmere will be delighted to discuss it with them personally."

The messenger swallowed. "Yes, Your Grace."

Richard watched him go, jaw tight. He knew the protocols. Every gate would be watched. Every corridor searched. Every servant questioned.

The king would already have been moved. At the first serious threat, the Crown was taken from sight and placed somewhere even loyal men were not always told. Henry could rage all he liked, but the machine would carry him away. A king had power over everyone except the people tasked with keeping him alive.

The Crown had to be protected. Even from the king himself.

Richard returned to Livia, trying not to think about what waited at Whitehall.

*****

Henry agreed to remain in the safe house only until morning.

Barely.

He had arrived in a fury, surrounded by guards, locked behind unfamiliar doors in a location chosen precisely because no one outside a trusted circle knew it existed. The place was comfortable enough, but comfort did not matter when it felt like a cage. He paced until Stephen looked ready to throw himself into the fire.

He demanded updates until Lionel stopped answering every question and began answering only the ones that mattered.

The princess was alive. Her wound was serious, but not immediately fatal. Lady Bella was worse. She was on the brink of death.

That was the one sentence Henry could not shake. He did not want updates delivered like scraps through a door. He wanted to see them. Madeleine, because she was to be his queen and because he owed France her protection until they were married. Bella, because she had once held his son, because he cared about her and because she seemed to matter to Livia.

As soon as the sun began to rise, Henry ordered the carriage. Lionel objected. Henry ignored him.

Stephen looked like he wanted to object too, then apparently remembered he enjoyed having a head and chose silence.

By dawn, the carriage was moving back toward Whitehall despite Lionel’s protests. The ride felt longer than it was.

London was only beginning to wake, but Whitehall had not slept. As they approached, Henry saw the change at once. More guards. More horses. More steel at the gates. Men stationed where only servants had stood before. Every window seemed watched. Every shadow looked accused.

His guards had doubled. The entire palace was under constant watch. Henry stepped down from the carriage, his face unreadable as guards bowed and moved around him. He sighed.

"Did you get more guards to my mother?" Henry asked.

Lionel, walking close at his side, answered at once. "Yes, Your Highness. Immediately we received the news."

Henry gave a short nod. "Good." His mother was in the Tower, banished by his own order, but she was still his mother. And with an attack inside Whitehall, no member of the royal family was safe. Henry looked toward the palace.

Whitehall stood before him in the morning light. Guards lined the courtyard. More stood near the gates. More along the outer walls.

A little late, Henry thought bitterly.

"Thank you, Lionel," he said after a moment. "Any news about the attacker?"

"No, Your Highness. The gates were sealed. Servants are being questioned. The women’s wing is being searched chamber by chamber. No one has claimed to see a stranger."

Henry’s jaw tightened. Of course no one had seen a stranger.

(Brought to you by Janelle Fox 2/3)