Cinderella Spell - Laurie Lee Page 0,2
her body stilled.
He gathered her body to him and wept, praying death over them both.
2
King William stared at his glass of water as the voice of his beloved whispered from the past. Her request for him to remarry lingered, but he could not make himself to do so.
“My Lord, it’s been nearly ten years. I am certain you have been waiting for my little Elouise to grow into the beautiful woman she is today.”
“Havish,” William called, waving for a guard to remove the offensive woman. His middle-aged advisor hurried into the room, closing the heavy door behind him.
“I don’t know how they found out. The street is filled with… with…” He straightened his cravat at the king’s raised brow. He cleared his throat. “Women. Mothers, daughters, widows. I am so sorry. I thought we had this visit to the seaside better arranged.”
William sighed. “Is there a different exit we can use?”
“There’s a patio in the back. Wait there while we clear a path.”
The salt air hung heavy in the open space, and he breathed deeply. Though several buildings had been built close together, a gap allowed for view of the beach. William took a step toward the railing before he noticed a tall, thin woman standing there already. “It’s not to be born. What are you doing here?”
The woman turned. Her narrow face held both elegance and sorrow. “I often met my husband here.”
He relaxed his shoulders. “My pardon. I assumed you were part of the rabble in the front.” He searched the area. “You should return inside.”
“Is there a reason I cannot enjoy a breath of the sea?”
“My guards are preparing a transport away from the confusion in the street.”
The woman paled as her eyes widened. “Your Majesty,” she spoke as she swept into a graceful bow.
He offered a brief smile. “My apology to you and your husband. I hope you may enjoy your view once we have left.”
She closed her eyes. “Our meeting is in memory. He has been gone four years.”
Unlike the widows with their gleaming eyes who showed up nearly everywhere he went, this woman had sorrow as a companion. She turned, went up a short staircase, and through a door into the neighboring building.
In the moment alone, he walked to the edge of the wooden deck and gave in to his own memories.
On the following day, William stood at the window in the most opulent room the seaside village had to offer. Looking out toward waves rolling across the sand proved more appealing than he realized. “Havish, I will take a walk on the boards.”
He nodded. “But give us a little time. The women are determined to have an interlude with you.”
The king shook his head. “I will speak with our land agent. A summer home in the area will suit me. I will not have to contend with public lodgings.”
Havish didn’t return for nearly an hour. William rubbed a hand over his mouth to hide his reaction to whisps of hair floating above the man’s head as though a great wind had disposed him.
“We are ready, my Lord.”
Except they weren’t. William felt his ire grow as he noticed a lone woman step out from between two buildings. But the tall, slender woman ignored him and walked to the railing. She did not lean, instead remained straight, looking out to sea. He could have ignored her, but something drove him to walk closer. “Is the sea revealing her secrets?” He spoke in jest, but when she turned toward him with damp cheeks, remorse scolded him. “Forgive me, I should not have interrupted your thoughts.”
“Your Majesty.” She bowed once more, than glanced both ways on the deserted boardwalk. “I might have known the lack of crowds was not by chance.”
“Do you live here, or are you on holiday?”
“This is more a time of memory. We visited the year before his death; my daughter, husband, and I. Now I visit alone.”
“Did they die in an accident?”
“They? No, Majesty. My daughter is with her governess.”
He nodded. “At least you have her. I am thankful for my son.”
The woman smiled. “Prince Robert, I believe. Of course, I have seen his likeness.”
“He has more of the queen mother than myself.” He tilted his head. “I appreciate the brevity of our conversation. What is your name?”
“I am Countess DeGanne, your Majesty.”
“I will resume my walk.” He glanced at the soldiers on the far side of the boardwalk. “Shall I leave you to peace and quiet a while longer?”
She almost smiled. “If