A painstakingly written note lay sealed on the table by his bedside. The note within read, ‘Your Grace, I wished to let you know, the physician tells me it is merely a strain to my ankle, and though I must not stand upon it for some time I am permitted to hobble about if I take care and use a stick. I expect I shall be spending some time in the library. Might I hope to be favoured with a moment of your time tomorrow?
devotedly yours, Summer Rainault’
Henry lay on the bed as he read the note and he sighed as he fell against the bed, he had council in the evening but he knew it would be rude to not accept this invitation.
He undressed quickly and lay back on the bed as he fell asleep wondering what the girl would ask of him if she had wished to see him, for she had said that the palace was a bore and he could not help but agree with her on those words.
He sighed, he supposed he would see such things tomorrow.
The peace of the library was soothing after the way her maid and the castle servants had fluttered about getting her there. Bertha had pleaded with her not to leave her bed, in fact, but Summer was adamant: she’d not be holed up inside her rooms all day. She’d go mad if she couldn’t get out at least a little.
Fortunately, Henry’s library held copies of several manuscripts she had been wishing to read, including the Roman de la Rose and Lancelot, Knight of the Cart. Happily she submerged herself in the lyric writing.
Henry was making his way to the library when he was called away to the council again, he stood in the room as he was told of an assassination attempt against him and he sighed.
“Find them,” he said, “Have them hung for treason, and for attempted assassination. Has it been discovered when they intended to do such a thing?”
“At the hunt my lord,” they told him, “They wished to catch you during the hunt.”
Darkness superseded the sunlight spilling through the windows, and Summer laid the manuscript aside, carefully pushing herself out of the chair. She was oddly disappointed, though reason said there was no reason she should be. He was the King. He’d work to do.
She’d just wander the castle for a while, where there were walls to catch her if she stumbled again.
A painstakingly written note lay sealed on the table by his bedside. The note within read, ‘Your Grace, I wished to let you know, the physician tells me it is merely a strain to my ankle, and though I must not stand upon it for some time I am permitted to hobble about if I take care and use a stick. I expect I shall be spending some time in the library. Might I hope to be favoured with a moment of your time tomorrow?
devotedly yours, Summer Rainault’
Henry lay on the bed as he read the note and he sighed as he fell against the bed, he had council in the evening but he knew it would be rude to not accept this invitation.
He undressed quickly and lay back on the bed as he fell asleep wondering what the girl would ask of him if she had wished to see him, for she had said that the palace was a bore and he could not help but agree with her on those words.
He sighed, he supposed he would see such things tomorrow.
The peace of the library was soothing after the way her maid and the castle servants had fluttered about getting her there. Bertha had pleaded with her not to leave her bed, in fact, but Summer was adamant: she’d not be holed up inside her rooms all day. She’d go mad if she couldn’t get out at least a little.
Fortunately, Henry’s library held copies of several manuscripts she had been wishing to read, including the Roman de la Rose and Lancelot, Knight of the Cart. Happily she submerged herself in the lyric writing.
Her mouth fell open when Henry — the King! — kissed her palm, and stayed that way until the physician called her name sharply to get her attention. She answered his questions absently, mind far too focussed on the moments just past. Not even the shock of pain when the physician flexed her foot to the fullest extent drew her from her reverie.
He had carried her himself, stayed with her while she waited for the physician … kissed her palm. Not even the back of her hand, in courtly gesture, but the palm. Did he want something of her? If he did, she wasn’t sure she should resist.
Summer wasn’t sure she /could/ resist.
Henry made his way down to the castle hallways and walked the small way to the council chambers; the time he had taken to go to the archery fields was spent and he was taken back to court.
He spent most of his time in council and had hardly any time of his own, so when the day was spent and he was making his way to his room his only thought was of sleep.
A painstakingly written note lay sealed on the table by his bedside. The note within read, ‘Your Grace, I wished to let you know, the physician tells me it is merely a strain to my ankle, and though I must not stand upon it for some time I am permitted to hobble about if I take care and use a stick. I expect I shall be spending some time in the library. Might I hope to be favoured with a moment of your time tomorrow?
With immensely false dignity, she protested, “Sire, you are flattering me unduly; I must beg that you stop.” The fact that her mouth was practically against his neck didn’t occur to her until she’d finished the sentence.
O God, am I truly flirting with this man who is my king? But he is so kind and genuine. O God, help me!
Henry couldn’t help but chuckle at her jest as he made his way to the castle, his eyes locked on the distance as he made his way towards it.
“I will take you to the physician to see upon your foot.”
As he made his way through the castle, and into the hallways he readjusted her in his arms as he made his way to the physician’s quarters, and he placed her gently on the bed.
He knelt down in front of her and picked up her ankle carefully, gently as they waited for the physician.
“Perhaps it is only sprained and not broken, lest you would have to have someone to carry you for the rest of your visit.”
“Hopefully it is only strained! I think to be trapped indoors, helpless to someone else’s will, would be more than beyond my patience, and as father will tell you quite clearly, I have but little of that to begin with!” Summer said lightly. Pushing herself up against the pillows, she reached a hand toward Henry.
“Thank you very much. No one could have been more careful.”
He smiled as he looked at her ankle and his hand brushed along her ankle he sighed, “My sister sprained her ankle like this before…”
Henry stood up when the physician came and he smiled as he took Summer’s hand and kissed her palm.
“I shall have someone come to take you to your room.”
Her mouth fell open when Henry — the King! — kissed her palm, and stayed that way until the physician called her name sharply to get her attention. She answered his questions absently, mind far too focussed on the moments just past. Not even the shock of pain when the physician flexed her foot to the fullest extent drew her from her reverie.
He had carried her himself, stayed with her while she waited for the physician … kissed her palm. Not even the back of her hand, in courtly gesture, but the palm. Did he want something of her? If he did, she wasn’t sure she should resist.
With immensely false dignity, she protested, “Sire, you are flattering me unduly; I must beg that you stop.” The fact that her mouth was practically against his neck didn’t occur to her until she’d finished the sentence.
O God, am I truly flirting with this man who is my king? But he is so kind and genuine. O God, help me!
Henry couldn’t help but chuckle at her jest as he made his way to the castle, his eyes locked on the distance as he made his way towards it.
“I will take you to the physician to see upon your foot.”
As he made his way through the castle, and into the hallways he readjusted her in his arms as he made his way to the physician’s quarters, and he placed her gently on the bed.
He knelt down in front of her and picked up her ankle carefully, gently as they waited for the physician.
“Perhaps it is only sprained and not broken, lest you would have to have someone to carry you for the rest of your visit.”
“Hopefully it is only strained! I think to be trapped indoors, helpless to someone else’s will, would be more than beyond my patience, and as father will tell you quite clearly, I have but little of that to begin with!” Summer said lightly. Pushing herself up against the pillows, she reached a hand toward Henry.
“Thank you very much. No one could have been more careful.”
“Where should I … ” Summer waved her hands helplessly as Henry swept her up as though she was a feather. “Mother of God, you’re strong!”
He let out a chuckle of laughter at her words and started to walk towards the castle, “The weight I carry is not heavy.”
“Sire!” Summer pretended to be surprised. “Surely you jest, for my father swears I eat more than any horse in the stables.” Devoid of any instruction, she carefully linked her arms around his neck, tucking her face in against his shoulder. He smelled nice, clean.
He held her steadily as he laughed at her words, and continued walking to the palace. It was not a great distance for him, “Then your father does not feed his horses enough.”
With immensely false dignity, she protested, “Sire, you are flattering me unduly; I must beg that you stop.” The fact that her mouth was practically against his neck didn’t occur to her until she’d finished the sentence.
O God, am I truly flirting with this man who is my king? But he is so kind and genuine. O God, help me!
“Where should I … ” Summer waved her hands helplessly as Henry swept her up as though she was a feather. “Mother of God, you’re strong!”
He let out a chuckle of laughter at her words and started to walk towards the castle, “The weight I carry is not heavy.”
“Sire!” Summer pretended to be surprised. “Surely you jest, for my father swears I eat more than any horse in the stables.” Devoid of any instruction, she carefully linked her arms around his neck, tucking her face in against his shoulder. He smelled nice, clean.
Summer felt her face heat and had to duck her head away from those eyes. “I just … tripped over my own feet.” This was not good. This was very not good. “I’m fine,” she lied, even though she could feel her ankle starting to throb a bit. She made herself pull away from him, and gave a gamine smile. “I think I owe you yet another apology now, for my clumsiness.”
He looked at her and looked at her foot, worried that perhaps she had strained it more than she did show or tell him that she had.
“Worry not of any apologies,” he said, “You need not do so for the likes of me.”
She laughed breathlessly. “No more concern for your own dignity than I have for mine. I … I think perhaps I had better sit down somewhere,” she added, as she began to waver.
He held her close as she spoke and he looked at her, concerned.
“Should I carry you, perhaps you had injured your ankle more than you do seem to show.”
Summer started to protest, then gave it up as a bad job when her ankle wobbled again. “Yes, please,” she sighed.
He held her closer as she wobbled and he wrapped his arms around her, before he steadied her, placing an arm behind her knee he picked her up easily.
“Where should I … ” Summer waved her hands helplessly as Henry swept her up as though she was a feather. “Mother of God, you’re strong!”
Summer felt her face heat and had to duck her head away from those eyes. “I just … tripped over my own feet.” This was not good. This was very not good. “I’m fine,” she lied, even though she could feel her ankle starting to throb a bit. She made herself pull away from him, and gave a gamine smile. “I think I owe you yet another apology now, for my clumsiness.”
He looked at her and looked at her foot, worried that perhaps she had strained it more than she did show or tell him that she had.
“Worry not of any apologies,” he said, “You need not do so for the likes of me.”
She laughed breathlessly. “No more concern for your own dignity than I have for mine. I … I think perhaps I had better sit down somewhere,” she added, as she began to waver.
He held her close as she spoke and he looked at her, concerned.
“Should I carry you, perhaps you had injured your ankle more than you do seem to show.”
Summer started to protest, then gave it up as a bad job when her ankle wobbled again. “Yes, please,” she sighed.
Summer felt her face heat and had to duck her head away from those eyes. “I just … tripped over my own feet.” This was not good. This was very not good. “I’m fine,” she lied, even though she could feel her ankle starting to throb a bit. She made herself pull away from him, and gave a gamine smile. “I think I owe you yet another apology now, for my clumsiness.”
He looked at her and looked at her foot, worried that perhaps she had strained it more than she did show or tell him that she had.
“Worry not of any apologies,” he said, “You need not do so for the likes of me.”
She laughed breathlessly. “No more concern for your own dignity than I have for mine. I … I think perhaps I had better sit down somewhere,” she added, as she began to waver.