All Her Men (The Queen's Men Book 1) (3 page)

 

Chapter 5

 

Amelia stood in the throne room. The sunlight filtered through the windows and danced upon the wooden floors. The deep mahogany burned brighter, more auburn, with the kiss of light.

Sounds filtered in from outside. Sounds of people parading in the streets. Laughter and shouts of joy embraced her heart. Were they this happy because of her? Were they this happy because they were free of England, or were they simply basking in the nationalistic feelings that the vote was sure to have caused?

A quiet cough brought her attention back to the matter at hand. Her coronation.

“Your Majesty, are you feeling well?”

“Yes, Edith. I’m fine. Just listening to the people outside. They are so excited…”

Edith’s bright smile soothed her. “Don’t worry. They love you.”

“They don’t even know me.” It was true. They didn’t. They were unaware of the things she had done in her life, of the damage her temper had caused. Unaware of how quietly she lived, in penance, with the hope that one day she would be more than just a small office worker at a big company. A company that probably didn’t even know she was there. That probably didn’t know she was more than just an employee number with a set salary. Someone that never took time off. Never enjoyed life… Her penance…

“You were chosen. You are their queen. Good or bad, you are theirs and they love you for it. Scotland will keep you. Its people will protect you and love you. Even if you fail.”

Fail? Was Edith a mind reader? Did she know what Amelia had planned? “So how will this work?”

“The leader of the Scottish Nationalist Party, SNP for short, will come in. He’s a seedy little man, so prepare yourself. He will be flanked by your guards. This is a different ceremony than normal because you have been so ill. Normally press would be  here, rulers of other countries present, etcetera . In this case though, no press is allowed; however, there will be one Royal Photographer permitted. He will document the event for the press outside.”

“I bet I look awful.” She could not help it. Self-conscious person that she was, she could not help being worried about how the world would see her. Her hair was probably sticking out at all ends. Its curly behavior defied all odds, especially when it was mad at her.

“No, the outfit suits you just fine! Do not worry about it. Everything will be fine.”

Sure, she wasn’t the one being put on display. “So what will happen next?”

“The SNP Leader will ask you to pledge yourself to protect and defend Scotland. He will also ask a few other little questions. Then your guards will kneel in front of you and promise to protect you, to keep you safe for Scotland.”

“That’s it?” Edith made it seem so simple. Maybe she was not a mind reader. She certainly seemed oblivious to the turmoil rolling through her. Maybe that was for the best though. Then Amelia could enact her plans to run away. Just had to make it to the market for shopping. Surely no one knew what she looked like yet. She could just slip away, like a thief in the night, while they were focused on something else.

“That’s it.”

Taking a calming breath, she straightened her shoulders. This was doable. It wasn’t scary at all. Nope, not one bit.

Fuck, who was she kidding? Her knees were shaking, her stomach was rolling, and her head was spinning. If she didn’t end up embarrassing herself by puking on her own shoes or the SNP Leader, then she would believe she was doing good and that all this was ‘doable’.

“Oh, then you will give a small, short speech to Parliament. Parliament will have been convened downstairs, while the coronation is taking place. In fact, they have already started gathering.”

“Parliament?” Was Edith serious? “Are you shitting me?” Edith’s eyes opened wide at her words. “So that’s a yes?”

“Yes, I’m serious. Also, you will want to refrain from using words like shitting from now on, please.”

Amelia grinned madly. “You don’t cuss often, do you?” This woman was as straight-laced as they come. Even Edith’s button up shirt was buttoned all the way to the very top, the collar taunt against her skin.

“No, ma’am, I do not.”

It even went to the woman’s speech. “You also don’t use contractions.”

“No, ma’am, I do not.”

“I think we’ll get along quite well.” They would too. Straight-laced Edith was there to keep her out of trouble. Her of all people — the rebel American. They had no idea what she was capable of.

They were going to learn.

 

 

Chapter 6

 

A man that had been introduced to Amelia as Thomas Cornwell, the Leader of the Scottish Nationalist Party, held a Bible in front of him, clutching it to his chest as if it was a lifeline. His eyes were coal black, his hair was a dirty blond, and his appearance was meticulous. His suit looked as if it had been tailor made just for him, and from the look of his hands, it probably was. They looked soft, having never seen a day’s work. The British accent he spoke with as he introduced himself gave her pause. She had assumed that the SNP Leader would be Scottish, not British. “You’re British.”

“Of course I am not British. I was sent to boarding school in London as a boy and went to Cambridge. Unfortunately, in order to get ahead, I had to lose my Scottish accent.”

“So you didn’t get ostracized?”

The smile he gave her seemed slimy, seedy. It was as if he resented her. It was as if he hated her. Maybe even hated that she had found his weak spot within seconds of meeting.

“My dear, there is something that you must understand… You will be queen. You will be essentially a mere figurehead. Parliament will make decisions for Scotland. You are just a stand in, someone to do what they are told. Learn that quickly and we will get along famously.”

She felt her temper flare. This man had secrets that he held dear, but that didn’t mean she would let him harass her. “And if I don’t?”

“My dear, I believe it is time to begin.”

As Amelia gazed on him from the side, it became clear that the SNP Leader was a man used to getting his own way. Something about him screamed at her. Reminded her of what her father once told her. A story from long ago about a demon that ravaged the land of his birth. The story ended with a princess coming to smite the demon… The demon even had a scar in the shape of a cross on his hand, just like the SNP Leader’s. It was just coincidence, it had to be, but it would be better to steer clear of this man.

“Alright, Maggie, let’s go.”

“What did you call me?” His hand curled into a fist, revealing that he was quick to anger.

“I meant, let’s begin, Mr. SNP Leader.” His hand relaxed at her change in words, and she wondered if he realized that he had done it or if it was completely subconscious.

“Of course. First, we need to begin by having you pledge your allegiance to Scotland. Then, then you will need to sign the Declaration.”

“The Declaration?” It sounded so final, like giving her life away.

“You will be declaring that you will uphold the rights of the Scottish people before all others, that you will give your life to protect the people of this country, and that you will forever pledge your allegiance to Scotland and her people.”

Give her life? Was she really prepared to do that? “Do I have to say it?”

“What?”

“If I have to say it then you’re going to need to say all of that again. I can’t remember all of that.”

“You do not have to say any of it. You just have to sign. You do not even need to speak.” The look he gave her screamed that he would prefer it if she didn’t speak. It was a look filled with barely concealed malevolent desire.

“Then let’s get on with it, Mr. SNP Leader.” She watched intently for any reaction he might display and her shoulders tensed when his hand did. She was in trouble and the only way out was by playing a game — a game that could apparently get her killed.

“Fine. Here,” he flatly said as he held the Bible out to her. They were apparently past all pretenses. “You need to sign within it.”

Looking at the Bible, taking it in her own slightly shaking hands, she realized that it was not actually a Bible. It was a really old dark gray leather bound book. The pages within were bound to it, but it looked as if they were older than the book’s cover. Some of the pages couldn’t even be read anymore, but those that could were in a language that Amelia didn’t understand. “What is this?”

“It is the history of our people. A hundred years ago, the important documents pertaining to Scottish rule were copied and placed within this book. These aren’t the true documents; however, yours will be the true copy. Flip through it carefully to the most recent page. There you will find the articles. There you will sign.”

Amelia did as she was told and she came to a page that had been penned rather quickly. The ink had smeared on the pages. There were five articles detailing how she would reign. They could be summed up by three words: no power whatsoever. That was fine with her. She wouldn’t be here long enough to need to make changes. She grabbed the pen he produced and signed above her printed name.

“Very good,” he said as he grabbed the book and pen back from her. “Now, we must have your royal guards pledge their allegiance to you. Then we will be done.” The door opened once again and several men began walking in. As they filed into a line in front of her, recognition flared to life. These were the men that had invaded her house. These were the men that took her — that stole her in the dead of night.

The men that had invaded her house knelt in front of her. Not a single one looked her in the eye. They all stared at the ground in front of them.

Anger should fill her veins at the sight of them, but she could not bring herself to be mad. They were probably all used to doing what they had been directed to do. They looked like men that followed orders quite well. Strong, domineering men, that could snap her neck like a twig… Any hope she had to get away from them, began to sink. Could she really escape them? They didn’t look like guards. They wore suits, but didn’t look like businessmen either. They looked more like soldiers in business suits — soldiers for hire.

Hell, she hadn’t even been able to break loose from the one that held her in her house. Her sanctuary. The place she knew like the back of her hand… If she couldn’t get away there, what made her think she could escape in their territory?

 

“Do you swear to live only for your queen?” Thomas’ voice caused her to jump as his voice boomed throughout the room. “To protect her as you would your own flesh and blood? To give your very life for her if it shall come to it? Do you swear to uphold the laws of the crown in times of trouble and heartache? Do you swear to uphold the laws of Rowan?”

Each lifted his head and repeated, “Aye.” Only one word. Such a simple word. Yet, Amelia knew it was a powerful word. One that changed each man’s life, should he choose to keep his vow. One that changed her life as well.

Realization spread throughout her very soul. She could never go back to her little home in the woods or to the semi-boring little life that she had crafted for herself. Her job, while boring, was gone. Her little house, while still there, was gone too. This was her future, whether she wanted it or not. Her lineage demanded it, and these men would do whatever necessary to protect her, even if from herself.

 

 

 

Chapter 7

 

Jacob held her hand tightly as he guided them through the throng of people. The parliament was full, every one of its members wanted to catch a glimpse of the new queen. Her breath caught slightly at the various smells that assaulted her. Colognes, perfumes, etcetera, all flowed throughout the small building. There was no air flowing. There were no open doors, no fans… nothing to get the scents cleared from the area. The weakness in her lungs made itself known. Squeezing his hand, she hoped he would know that something was wrong. Why had they not thought to warn her that there would be so many people?

It was clear that his guard was up, but he was looking for the wrong threats. The slight wheeze began as her lungs worked harder for air. Quickly he weaved them in and out around the crowd, speaking not one word to anyone. Deacon and Tim began pushing back on the crowd as they walked faster. Her fingers and mouth were going numb. Her lungs were still too sensitive. She should have been paying more attention. At last they rounded the corner, out of sight. Jacob turned towards her. Gently he pushed her up against the wall. “Lass, I have it. Here.”

Looking down she saw that he pulled an inhaler from his pocket. He carried one for her. The very thought that he was determined to protect her made her eyes water. Such a small thing, but one that spoke volumes.

“We shall not have a repeat of our first meeting, aye?” His eyes were tinged with worry as his lips curled up in a smile. It was true, he would protect her. Even if it was from her own traitorous body. He would protect her.

She watched his eyes, a gorgeous blue, as he pressed it into her hands. “Thank you…”

“Go on. No one shall see. The boys will ensure it.”

Glancing away from him she realized that he knew. He knew that her asthma scared her. It was a weakness that she tried to ignore. A defect in her lungs that kept her from being able to do all of the things she wanted to do. It made life full of terrors that would otherwise not exist.

He took her inhaler from her and used his hand to raise her head. “Never think yer weak just because yer different. Being different makes ye who ye are. Nothing wrong with that.” Lightly he placed the inhaler to her lips and pressed the actuator. The sterile taste was comforting as she took a deep breath. “We are all a wee bit different,” he whispered. “’Tis nothing wrong in that.”

Releasing the breath she held while letting the albuterol work, she whispered, “What’s so different about you?”

“Ah, lass, ‘tis so much different about me. The question is where to start? First, let us get ye to yer speech. Then we shall have some words. Ye must be introduced to us all properly.”

 

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