Conquering the Queen (12 page)

“This is true,” the advisor said. “You are no longer a queen. And yes, you are a slave. But it is not impossible for a slave to rise above her station.” He cast her a sly grin. “I was a slave once, you know.”

She looked at him, surprise on her pretty face. “You were?”

“Oh, yes,” Cynric revealed. “Purchased from parents who couldn’t feed me by a wealthy white-haired merchant who knew what I was before I did. To his credit, he waited until I was old enough to consent before taking me as a lover. From him I learned how to make money, and what mistakes lead to its loss. He died in debt, and I became payment on that debt to another man, a cruel man, who beat me, among other things. But I bore up—oh, yes, I did—and I learned from him how to find information on friends and enemies alike. He was good at it, but not good enough. He was eventually slain, but by then I knew all the secrets he did, and was able to parlay my knowledge into freedom. People will give you anything you wish to keep from being exposed. The trick with information is to avoid being killed before you use it, as you well know. We all have our gifts. Mine are cunning and patience. Yours is strength. You are the strongest woman I have ever met, and you have inspired your king to be the leader he was born to be, at long last.”

“To what end?” asked Avin.

“I’m an advisor, not a fortune teller,” he said. “All I can tell you is to hang on, and take heart. You have more than your measure of that, my dear.”

Chapter Eighteen

“Everything you are, you owe to me. To
me
! I made you king! I did!”

Flecks of spittle flew from the mouth of the enraged Lord Reginald as he faced his son, and he reached out a wildly grasping hand. But he could not touch the king. Dungeon bars prevented that.

In the adjoining cell, three women sat softly sobbing. Lady Fleur, her lady-in-waiting, and the faithless Sal had all been imprisoned less than an hour after the king’s father was dragged, kicking and cursing, to the dungeon.

Xander eyed the older man, wondering why he didn’t feel more remorse. This was his father, after all.

“You’re right, Father,” he said. “I would not be on the throne without you. But without me, you’d not be this close to it. And isn’t that what you wanted all along? To rule through me?”

Lord Reginald’s face reddened. “It’s that bitch. She’s the one turning you against me.”

Xander shook his head. “That bitch, as you call her, is the reason your head won’t be on a pike come tomorrow. As it stands now, you’ve been charged with just poisoning, rather than murder. If you wanted to run the kingdom, you should have put yourself on the throne,” Xander said. “But you knew that wealth and scheming weren’t enough. Say what you want about your contribution, Father. You could not have done it without me. It took an army, and bloodshed, to take Windbourne. It took bravery. But you were never good at that, were you? Lies. Poisoning. Those are a coward’s tools. The realm deserves better than a coward. I’ll not have one in my house.”

It had not been difficult to extract the truth. On Cynric’s advice, Xander had first confronted Sal, the maidservant he’d trusted to care for Avin. Terrified, Sal had told him how Lord Reginald had enlisted her to eavesdrop through the walls of the tower. She’d told the old lord everything, from the king’s sexual liaisons with the queen to the conversation they’d had about the necklace.

It had also been Lord Reginald who’d ordered Sal to fetch the tincture of baneflower from the apothecary. Both Xander’s father and Lady Fleur tried to pin the actual poisoning on the maid, who had tearfully denied it. She had, she swore, given the bottle to the old lord as he sat in an alcove talking to Lady Fleur.

Xander did not doubt this. Sal did not have access to the wine, and another maid reported seeing an odd sight prior to Cynric’s poisoning—Lady Fleur’s lady-in-waiting walking through the upper halls with a tray holding a tankard of wine. She’d thought perhaps the wine had been for Lady Fleur, but later in the dining hall she’d seen the young woman making merry with the other guests. Still, she thought no more of it until questioned.

Now Xander was faced with a hard decision. His father had tried to kill the trusted advisor, and had colluded to put his beautiful young lover on the throne as queen.

“You’re making a mistake.” From the adjoining cell, Lady Fleur’s voice seethed with indignation. “My father is a man of wealth. He sent me here expecting me to become queen!”

“I’m sure Lord Breton did not instruct you to pave the way to the throne with lies and poison, Lady Fleur,” Xander replied. “You both stand to be charged with treason. That’s just what I intend to do.”

“You can’t! You won’t!” Lady Fleur reached through the bars, clawing desperately at the king. “My father will rise up against you!”

“With what? The army he doesn’t have?” He looked back at Lord Reginald. “Even my father will tell you that it takes more than money to conquer a kingdom. And Lord Breton is too smart to rally forces to defend a treasonous daughter.”

Xander decided the time had come to divulge the information he’d been waiting to deliver to them both. “Your lady-in-waiting has been questioned, Lady Fleur. She admits to taking the wine to Cynric’s room at your request. She also admits to receiving the necklace from my father and then returning it to him after your visit to Avin. You are a liar who tried to deceive a king, and I believe a medical examination by the Breton physician—which I will advise your father to conduct should I allow you to live—will reveal you to be something other than the virgin you claim to be. So tell me again why a man like your father—a man seeking powerful connections—would risk those in defense of a daughter no decent man would want?”

The beautiful face on the other side of the bars was twisted in rage as the king leveled the same taunt she’d had used against Avin.

“You’ll rue the day you overlooked me for a faithless woman,” Lady Fleur spat.

“She’s right.” Lord Reginald was shaking with rage as he spoke. “Avin of Windbourne has cast a spell on you! She’s made you weak!”

Xander shook his head. “You’re wrong, Father. Avin made me strong. In fact, I don’t think I really understood the nature of true power until I watched her submit to me, until I exercised the true strength it took to earn that submission. It took more strength for her to yield to my will than it’s ever taken for you to force yours on others.”

Their protests trailed Xander as he turned his back on them.

Chapter Nineteen

“It’s done.”

Avin turned from the window at the sound of Xander’s voice.

“My father is in the dungeon where he sought to put you, along with Lady Fleur and their conspirators.” He walked over and took her face between his hands. “They’ll never hurt you again.”

“There will be consequences,” she said. “Your father has powerful allies… and there’s the Bretons to consider.”

He shook his head and sighed. “These are the consequences of leadership. You do what you must do and bear them with grace.” He put a finger to her collar. “You taught me that.”

A tear slipped from her eye. “I believed the worst,” she said. “I am sorry. I did to you what I could not forgive you for doing to me.”

“It’s all in the past now,” he said. “The future is before us.”

“Oh, Xander.” Avin put her hand over his. “Nothing has changed. The people of Windbourne still hate me as the bringer of winter. The nobles of Ravenscroft loyal to your father will surely be in turmoil.”

“And as king I will deal with it,” he said.

She looked into his eyes. There was a new strength there, a steel as hard as the blade he’d carried into battle.

“They will still expect me to be led out tomorrow at the coronation; they come to see the slave as much as they come to see the king.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “We both know they cannot be disappointed in that regard.”

She fell quiet for a moment, then finally spoke. “There was a time when I was captured that I lived ever moment in dread of your coronation day, that I lay awake planning revenge on everyone who had a hand in making me a slave, from the lowly villager to the king who collared me. Who could have imagined that my capture would put me on the road to true happiness? King Xander of the northern and southern kingdoms, even if you free me, I will remain bound to you. I will forever be your slave.”

He swept her up in his arms, carried her to the bed. Sitting down, he stood her in front of him, watching as she leaned over to free his cock. She hiked up her gown and straddled him, and he groaned as her pussy slid over his cock like a hot silken glove. Avin wordlessly wound her arms around his neck, staring into his eyes as she began to move up and down.

“I brought something for you,” he said as she moved up and down on his cock. Reaching down, he pulled forth the necklace from the pouch.

“I already have your necklace,” she said, touching her collar. “And I am honored to wear it.”

Xander put the necklace aside, groaning as she squeezed his cock.

“I have another gift.”

“Oh?” she moaned the word, looking at him through eyes glazed with pleasure.

He reached into his pouch again, this time pulling out a polished wooden plug. Avin’s eyes widened. She’d seen the likes of it before.

His hand moved beneath her. She could feel him sliding the plug beside the filled slit of her pussy, lubricating it. He moved his hand again. Now she could feel the head of the plug nudging against her bottom. She wriggled and moaned, maddened by the sensation of being doubly filled. The plug was tapered, widening at the base and then narrowing at the neck just below a flange that would hold it in place. As his huge cock filled her to overflowing, the plug added to the pressure and the ecstasy. As it slid in, she cried out her passion and felt his cock pulse as he spent into her. A moment later, when he withdrew, the plug remained.

“Tomorrow, at the coronation, it will remind you of who owns you.”

“I need no reminder,” she said. “I am yours forever.”

Chapter Twenty

Spring was in full bloom. Trees lining the road to the castle were bursting with blossoms that showered down on travelers drawn to the coronation from all directions. Vendors hawked goods and entertainers performed for coins for crowds lining the streets of Windbourne.

As the hour of the coronation approached, all eyes were on the balcony festooned with flags bearing the Gawen crest. Below, tongues wagged over news that the king would be crowned amid turmoil wrought from within. There was an air of unease in the crowd, and questions about the stability of House Gawen to lead. Even imprisoned, Lord Reginald still had his allies, and they were busily circulating rumors to raise doubts among Xander’s subjects.

He was in the anteroom off the balcony, and turned to now to Avin, who was sitting in a high-backed chair. Beside her, Cynric, walking with a cane as he continued to recover, had just finished apprising Xander of the discord being sown by those working against him.

“You’ll find it’s hard to lead,” Avin said, her words reminding her lover that only one of them had experience as a ruler. “You’ll find it even harder when there are forces working within to turn your own people against you.”

“I understand now how you must have felt,” Xander said. It was not mere flattery. The weight of his office had never felt heavier, and he’d never had more respect for the woman who’d held it before him.

Avin stood. “You will get through this,” she said. “You are better and stronger than your father ever was.” She paused, a sad look crossing her face. “I believe I was better than my father, in the end. But winter’s grip choked my chance to lead. You have that chance to lead my people, and yours.” She nodded to the balcony. “Go now, my love, assume your role. I will be there at your feet.”

“It doesn’t seem right.” Xander turned away. “You should be by my side.”

“I can’t be.” She circled around. “You know that. If ever your father was right about anything it was about the need of the people to see me do penance. They never understood what happened, but in their mind I was at fault because I was the queen.”

A roar came from outside and Avin nodded. Xander looked toward the balcony, and reached down to pick up a gold chain from the table. He affixed it to Avin’s collar and walked out, leading her, to the roar of the crowd.

Several dignitaries and a number of knights shared the stage, along with the old priest who would preside over a congregation blending the old and new religions. He would crown Xander, but not before the new head of House Gawen turned to address his people.

“People of Windbourne and Ravenscroft,” he called. “Today, we join, united, as one land under one king…”

Xander’s voice fell quiet. He looked down at Avin. From below, all looked up at their new ruler, eyes filled with expectation for what he would say next. The king looked back at them and continued.

“When I arrived, you had a different ruler, and winter gripped the land.”

“Damn the false queen!” someone called, and a cheer went up. Xander glanced down. Avin was on her knees, staring straight ahead, her blond hair around her beautiful face rising and falling in the breeze.

“When I rode through the gates, you all were told that with me came the spring.”

Another cheer, but it fell silent with the king’s next words.

“That was a lie.”

The cheering crowd fell silent.

“What I arrived with was a false messenger who deceived you without my knowledge.” he continued. “My father, Lord Reginald, spread word that I alone could break winter’s grip when, in truth, spring was already chasing us from the south. He knew it was coming, and had I known the people of Windbourne were being asked to overthrow their queen based on this lie, I would not be here today.”

The faces looked up at him were shocked as he continued.

“I did not bring the spring. I cannot stop the winter. I am a mortal man, an imperfect man; so imperfect, in fact, that I did not see treachery in my own house until my father and his guest tried to poison my advisor.” He paused. “I cannot promise you perfect rule. I can only promise you honesty. And justice.” He stood back, motioning to Avin. “Behold, your former queen—the queen who was paraded naked through the streets, the queen who herself was betrayed by her father, King Leon.”