She thought he had loved her - she really did. She had thought that the great King Niklaus of England had genuinely and truly loved her, that he had tired of blonde curls and blue eyes and wanted flaming red strands and dark mocha orbs. She thought he had meant those promises of tomorrow - but tomorrow was a fickle thing.
The sun can set and the sun can rise, but a tomorrow or new dawn it does not always bring. For Hayley had clung unto the hope of seeing him again, seeing the cobalt eyed King of England arriving at her chamber doors. She had yearned for him and his fiery touch; his hands were fine and strong, fingers long and poised. She had expected smooth flesh and was pleasantly surprised by the roughness in which the pads of his thumbs were, the callouses on his palms hard from years of archery, swordsmanship, and the signing of treaties and documents.
His tongue was the original sin - the very thing that made even angels cry out in pleasure. She had succumbed so wholly and completely to his devilish smirks and dimples, to his slick mouth and hot breath. She had nearly screamed when he took her, each in a different position and each in a different area - once on the bed, once upon the wall, and once atop the desk. She had held onto him later, hoping for his arms to wrap around her but he had left as abruptly as he arrived, giving her nothing but a chaste kiss and a promise of "tomorrow, darling" before escaping off into the night.
She was so utterly and completely in love with him she thought her heart would burst; after that night, he sent her letters and sweet trinkets, a ruby necklace here and a heavy gold bracelet. He wrote to her of wondrous things, of adventure and the great plains; of the private thoughts he had about her and of the way he yearned for her touch almost as much as she did his.
And so, when her fiancé - Tyler Lockwood - a man of wealth who her late Uncle Felix had somehow managed to ensnare into marriage with her, discovered these letters, Hayley had proudly told him off. She had clung those pieces of parchment and red wax close to her heart and told him that she did not love him and that his rebellion against the king would fail, that the triumphant King of England would always rise above the middling half-bakes he employed.
Tyler had not taken her words kindly.
He had broken off their engagement and left, leaving Hayley nothing but the things she possessed from her Uncle - a small country manor and a few maids.
But Hayley was happy.
She wrote to her king to inform him she was now free from marriage and warned him tenderly about the ploy Tyler would no doubt use to try and bring England to ruin. She had affectionately kissed the letter and sprayed scented rosewater upon it, hoping for the king to smell the fragrance and think of her body, nude and on fire from his kisses.
She waited for his reply.
But none ever came.
"Millicent! Has the wash lady somehow ruined my gowns?" Hayley demanded one May morning as she held up the dark, rose satin gown that was once her favorite.
Once.
The trembling maid stood there clutching her hands, her dark eyes wide as she frantically shook her head.
"No, madame. We wash the madame's clothing as we always do - warm water and lye soap and then doused with rose water and hung up to dry in the courtyard."
Hayley's eyes narrowed as she walked towards Millicent. "Then pray tell," the red head hissed, "why my gown will not fit me."
Millicent pinched down hard on her thumb as she scanned her mistress's face for any sign of jest. The panic, however, quickly left the young maid's eyes when she looked upon Hayley's formerly flat stomach - the taut skin that had once rested there was now bulged, her stomach protruding from the silk undergarments.
"Perhaps, madame, you are…with child?"
The little maid with the trembling lip had been correct, Hayley discovered, after calling upon the doctor who resided in the town of Mystic Haven. He had kindly told Hayley that she was three months along and Hayley immediately knew who the father was - it was the great King of England himself.
Without even a word of thanks, the young noblewoman had left and quickly written away to the king, pleading with him to come see her, hoping and praying that his work with Tyler has not caused him to be so busy as to ignore his coming child.
The days passed on and Hayley saw May turn to June and June to July; but it was not until August that she heard news of the king.
"Did you hear, Hayley?" Miss Vicky Donovan inquired as she sipped her tea, "the king has put down the Northern rebellion and captured the leader - your former fiancé, Tyler Lockwood!"
Hayley nearly dropped her teacup, eyes nearly watering with joyful tears. Her Niklaus, her king! He would be free to come to her now! Free to -
"And he has finally announced the long awaited news, the news all of England has been yearning to hear!" The French orphan, Sophie, added, "her majesty, the Queen, has given birth to a son! The young Prince Lucien!"
Hayley turned green. Disbelief overtook her being. She could not keep up with Vicky and Sophie's continued conversation for how could it be? How?
She wanted to cry, no! No! The king, the king loved her - surely the king loved her! He had spent that night with her, he had sent her those letters of kindness and devotion, he had sent her those priceless jewels and spoken of nothing but fondness for her. How could he have lain with another woman?
Hayley felt so sure that the passion that had ignited between the two of them was unparalleled - he may have never called her name aloud - even when he came - but he had been tender and passionate. Yes, Hayley knew of the great queen's beauty and charm, of her light, but the king had slept with her.
Her. Hayley Rodun. Surely he must have felt something?
The disgust the red head felt quickly overwhelmed her, and the last she heard was Sophie's distressed cries before all went black.
"My beloved wife," Klaus murmured softly, pressing a tender kiss upon his darling Queen Caroline's lips before seating himself down, gently cupping the head of his newborn son. "My sweet Prince Lucien."
Caroline giggled in response, playfully swatting at the king's shoulder. "Really Nik, I cannot believe you named our son while I was passed out from labor - honestly!"
The king chuckled at his wife's playfulness, "my love, if I had the choice I would have named him after you, but the Prince Caroline does not appeal to the ear," the king then leaned in, wrapping his free arm around his wife, his eyes light with sweet and gentle love. "But the title of Queen Caroline has never sounded more right."
The golden blonde shook her head, mouth twisting into a small, sardonic smirk. "Tell me, Nik, did you really have to sleep with that common harlot, Hayley Rodun? Could you not simply have tortured her until she told you what you needed?"
Klaus couldn't help the swell bubble of laughter that erupted in his throat; ever since he had laid eyes upon Caroline that April morning two years ago, he had felt nothing but love towards the daughter of the Duke of Suffolk. His love manifested in different forms but the most common one - when regarding her numerous suitors - was jealousy. He had to physically announce her to the world as his intended wife before the suitors would cease to blatantly court her while in his presence and though Caroline had always made it known that she loved him, he still loathed the idea of her ever going off with anyone. Especially since she was the first one who had given him love.
Holding his wife closer, he kissed her eyelids before capturing her mouth in another searing kiss. "My darling love, the harlot would not have spoken a word to me if she had sensed my intentions all along were to destroy her beloved Tyler. She is a fickle woman who moves affections as easily as the wind would move a falling leaf - you should know that I thought of only you. Of your sweet vanilla scent while her body tried to suffocate mine lungs with rosewater and cotton."
The blonde smiled before looking down at her quiet babe, his breathing even before an idea sparked her mind. Turning to face her husband, Caroline's eyes grew sultry and her lip jutted outward in an alluring pout. "I do believe that young Lucien is asleep now, Nik." Caroline murmured softly, moving closer towards the blue eyed king; her gentle shift causing the neckline of her chemise to drop lower, exposing her milky white breasts.
The man who was the King of England responded with a small grin of his own. "And what do you propose we do then, love?"
"I propose that I punish you for leaving me alone that night - Lindabelle? Take Lucien," Caroline called out, handing her only son over to the wet nurse who quickly curtseyed and left the room.
Klaus was already growing hard, having seen that bright glow in her eyes and the sight of seeing his usually gentle and bubbly wife take charge did nothing more than to spur his lust on further.
Turning to face her husband again, Caroline's cornflower blue eyes glowed with mischief, "tonight, Niklaus, you are the commoner and I the princess. You will have to try and win me over again if I am ever to forgive you for your indiscretions."
Klaus's eyes darkened with fiery passion and unmistakable lust. "Of course, majesty," he murmured, his lips ghosting over her jaw, "just tell me what I need do to win your favor once more…"
Her reply was to pull him closer, pressing her body flush against his as the two began a dance that was as old as time itself but one which sparked new flames each and every time.
My beautiful, beloved Caroline…Klaus whispered, smirking when she moaned his name.
The harlot Hayley really could not compare.
A/N: Klaus and Caroline. King and Queen of England. Of course Klaus has rather...interesting ways of garnering information out of others but he still loves his beautiful blonde :)
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