Together, Eric and I apparated into the room that we had left just eleven days previously. The door was locked, just as we had left it and there, above the hearth, was my crest. Yet now it was not just my initials carved into it. The delicate swirls of EE and ED were beautifully merged into a vision of perfection.
"Come on," I said, tugging at the hand of Eric, leading him towards the exit and unlocking it as we reached the door at the end of the hallway. I tucked my wand into my sleeve and Eric slid his into the breast pocket within his jacket. When we stepped into the hallway, with sunlight pouring in through the arrow slots, the emergence of old friends and acquaintances was heartily welcomed.
"Oh! Elizabeth! When did you get here? Who is the beau? I heard you were sick! Are you okay?" were only some of the questions that I was pummeled with when we passed amongst familiar faces and voices. Nodding and smiling to all of them, I hastily followed my instinct and made my way to George's room. A swift knock on the door and a shout of, "Just a moment!" later, the door was opened and a slightly disheveled George stood before me, shirt untucked, breeches hastily tied.
"Elizabeth!" George exclaimed, wrapping me in a tight brotherly hug before kissing me chastely on the lips.
"Oh, George. It's been so strange not seeing you every day!" I cried in response, hugging him just as tightly as he hugged me. "How have you been?!"
"Oh, pretty good. Anne in confinement is the most freedom that any of us have had in the past six years."
"I see you've been keeping busy," I whispered when I saw Sir Francis coming around the corner from George's privy chamber. "George, you are being careful, yes?"
"Elizabeth, I couldn't be more careful if I tried," George attempted a lighthearted chuckle.
"I just don't want you to get caught. If you're arrested, I don't know how the Boleyns would survive without you." A cough behind me reawakened my senses. I extended my hand behind me and I felt the large hand grasp mine, reminding myself of why I was back in this despicable court.
"Eric, Sir Francis Weston. Sir Francis, this is Lord Eric Donnan."
"Lord Donnan?" Sir Francis questioned.
"Umm, yes. He's from the Scottish territories. He also happens to be my advisor of sorts."
"Pardon me for asking, but a miss needing an advisor? Surely you're not in some sort of cult..." Sir Francis pondered.
"No Sir Francis. I am not a part of anything illegal. Worry not for me. I can perfectly defend myself.
"Lord Donnan also happens to be my betrothed."
"Oh Elizabeth! You're betrothed!"
"Yes, George!" I squealed, kissing George on the cheek. I smiled sheepishly as I did so and turned to capture the lips of my beloved. "Don't worry, Honey, I love you too."
"An honorable love," I heard George mumble sadly. "If only we were so lucky," he continued, gazing deeply into Sir Francis' eyes.
"We're all going to hell anyways. We might as well enjoy the time that we have left," I responded, averting my eyes from the intimate scene that lay before me. "Come on, Eric. Let's leave them to their privacy. It's hard enough to get a private moment in this castle as is." With a last glance over my shoulder, I saw a glimpse of the two royal knights locked in a battle other than that against a foreign enemy.
Together, we stepped out of George's privy chamber and returned to the halls of the castle, turning down this hallway and that. My knowledge of the castle was comforting, and I found myself eagerly hating the lazy life of a courtier. Slow walks through the hallways, anonymity always kept by the unfaithful friends that followed and the flagrant show of wealth was all too familiar. My mind was bored by card games and talks of marriage now. It was all I could do to stop myself from turning to Eric and begin bringing up the War. But I knew I had to keep up appearances and instead turned my attention to the couples kissing in hidden alcoves, shamelessly rubbing themselves on each other in broad daylight. I was sickened by their blatant actions and averted my eyes when we rounded the corner to the Dining Hall.
I frowned upon the fiery sconces and heavy tapestries that adorned the once heartwarming room. Their once peaceful glow and art was forgotten after the splendor and magnificence of the Great Hall at Gaelen. A surprising visitor greeted me at the door when I walked in.
"Elizabeth, my dear. How are you doing?!" a jovial voice rumbled from above me. I nearly bit my tongue to the point of bleeding when I looked up at the plump face that belonged to King Henry VIII. I quickly swept into a forced curtsy, inwardly fuming with the fact that I was as royal as he, and yet, I was required to act as though he still had complete and utter power over me. When Eric rose from his bow, our eyes met only for a brief moment, communicating the need for us to once again, keep up appearances and hide our royal status. I used the moment to remind him to keep his hand off of his wand. Henry would likely make some advance upon me I couldn't let Eric hex him to oblivion.
In this court, I was still known as Elizabeth, Marquess of Hamilton, oh and gentlemen, she's S-I-N-G-L-E. The rude remarks were nothing from the ordinary for me, but Eric was not used to the brusqueness of this court. At Gaelen, I kept the men in line. But here, I had no power.
Henry swept me into a deep hug and attempted to bury his face along the low neckline of my dress. My bosom, although small, had pleased Henry at one time, and he rarely forgot a woman that he loved. But I had forgotten him, for I had never loved him. I had forgotten about the torment and turmoil of the court, and I had forgotten the status quo.
A low growl sounded from behind me and I knew from the sound of it that the noisemaker was no dog. Eric's feral growl only was heard when he was in protective mode. He was my bodyguard and to him, King Henry was a visitor upon his territory. And an unwelcome visitor at that. I motioned subtlety for him that King Henry was indeed welcome in my bosom and the growl turned possessive. The voice resonated throughout that hall and while I knew that Eric was waiting for me to push King Henry away, the jealousy that was building inside him would eventually spur him to attack Henry and I couldn't let that happen. Still, I had to give Henry as much time as possible for us to avoid suspicion.
Not long after the dialogue screaming in my head to stop Henry quieted, Henry attempted to slide a hand down my stomacher and he knew he crossed the line when I pushed myself backwards towards the wall and the safety of Eric.
"Milord, I'm sorry, but I cannot."
"And may I ask why?" Henry questioned in a huff.
"Milord, I am betrothed. I'm afraid I'm off the market."
"But your future husband isn't here," Henry said, eyeing the crowds and stepping towards me again.
"Ah, but Your Majesty, he is here. Eric!" I called, trembling with the effort to remain upright when the heady fumes wafting off of Henry were pushing me towards unconsciousness. Immediately, Eric stepped forward and placed a defensive hand around my waist.
"Eric, His Majesty King Henry Tudor VIII. Milord, this is my Betrothed, Dr. Eric Donnan, of Scarborough."
"A doctor? What is your field of study?"
Eric was quick with thinking on his feet. "Philosophy."
"A most fascinating subject."
"Truly." The tension in the air was reaching a point of unbearable levels and Eric's wand hand was twitching, as if he was debating whether or not to use it.
"He's not worth it," I whispered softly and Eric nodded in response.
A long silence ensued while the two men held a stare-off as if competing for my heart. The quiet was broken by Henry who, as he turned off to leave, cried over his shoulder, "You take care of her! She's a real pleasure."
"Mmmmm, don't I know," Eric murmured back, throwing the unorthodox status of our relationship in the face of the man who broke it daily, yet never had it broken against him.
"Eric!" I gasped, knowing that our relationship here was fresh news and that I would be swarmed with questions about the pain, the pleasure, and the ecstasy that follows as soon as any of the ladies found out. I found myself to be violently yanked out of the cold hall and into the breezy hallways that lay outside.
"So now I'm a doctor, am I?"
"You're the only doctor that could ever heal me of heartbreak. The only doctor who could ever heal my everlasting needs to be cherished and loved."
A low chuckle emanated from behind me. "You enjoy tormenting me. You just love to watch me squirm." Eric murmured huskily in my ear.
"Eric, that's not true. I don't enjoy this any more than you do. I don't like to have to hide who I am."
"Perhaps not. But you love attention. And you'll take it from any man who will give it to you. But that's not going to happen anymore," Eric threatened.
"You can't stop my own brother from loving me, Eric."
"But I can stop him from releasing his affections upon you," Eric said, trailing a loose finger over my shoulder and along the top of my dress, his mouth following after. When he reached my lips, the kisses were wracked with desire, and marred with jealousy. Everything that was within reach, Eric wanted, and everything that wasn't, he didn't want to wait for. Our mouths were locked together in a battle that would last until we grew short of oxygen and in the process, the skin on my lower lip broke as Eric bit me with such force as to physically show the pain that he felt within. The salty taste of my blood mixed with the sweetness of his saliva conjured a reaction within each of us, desiring more, and unable to hold ourselves back.
Pushing me backwards until I was pressed against a wall, Eric continued to further the kiss, licking gently at my lower lip and then forcing his tongue betwixt mine. Unable to move and unable to fight, I succumbed to the passion that raged within my body and toyed gently with the malleable muscle that fought with my own. Eric's body was pressed tight against mine, forcing out any air particles that stood in our way and while his hands kept busy in my hair, my arms were wrapped around his neck, holding onto him as if he were my lone rock in a deadly, thrashing sea. Every inch, every centimeter of our bodies were in near contact, only clothing blocking the way.
And onward jealousy spurred the kiss. The rough hands of my lover were slowly making their way along my sides, unable to reach my back and unable to untie the laces of my stomacher. My senses returned when his palms settled on my hips and he attempted to move his hands beneath my skirt.
"Eric," I breathed heavily. "We must stop. This is not why we're here. We're here for no other reason than to see Anne. Please, we must stop."
Eric grumbled with dissatisfaction. "You just wait, Elizabeth. When our marriage is consummated, there shall never be another man's lips on yours, nor another man's hand upon your breast. We will never have anyone but each other."
"I shall never need another man but you, Eric."
"Good."