Author's notes: This is my first historical fiction 'what if' about two royal couple whose impeccable pairing is so hard to resist.
Ludlow Castle, 1502
Three knocks on my oaken door disturbed my gadding mind.
"My lord of Wales, it's me your wife." Her pretty voice graced my ears.
"Yes, my lady of Wales, what is it I could offer to you," I quizzed in monochromatic tone, as if talking to a diplomat. Her entrancing façade glows dimly but strikingly through the seething fire on the wall. Her red-gold hair, which reeks like a Sweet alyssum, billows down up to her waist robed in gold lace.
"I apologetically informed you that my psychological turbulence never set to tranquility," her eyes welling up,"D-d-doctors reassurance could never appease your wife, my lord."
Deeply moved, I unconsciously stuck my arms up and drew her languid face inside my chest. I know how much tears she shed for me in those days I was impotent but my illness somehow disabled me to entertain those lurid emotional connection, but now: No! My dear wife no! But seeing your plaintive face and tears would do.
That seems works, as she in a flash prune herself up. " I guess your right,"prying the tears off of her face," Im just driving myself to inanity and want my husband suffered with a demented wife for sure!
She bade her 'good-night' turned around and started to rustle through the corridors.
"Catherine… my voice flowed softly.
"Yes, my lord Arthur, any problem? Is there anything that hurts you? Tell me, tell me for heaven's sake.
"No." I replied fighting my breath.
"You have orders?"
"No."
"Change schedules? Emergency errands? You want me to massage you? Can't you also sleep—
"I love you, Catherine."
These words return her sniveling.