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Your Stories Await Telling

The Prince and his page | 9/5


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"Your Grace," came the voice of George, making James raise his hazel eyes. "Look who I have found sent back to fetch some things."


The Prince's eyes went wide with recognition of an opportunity. "Ah, Master Hull. I hear you are making your home in Chelsea these days."


"No, Your Grace, just away for a few days since you are going to be busy, Sir," he replied sweetly.


"Oh? And what has the lady been doing?"


"Awaiting your pleasure, Sir." Henry only really recalled some of his conversation with Heather and the specifics of it. He was only eight. "And praying today, Sir."


Up and up went James' eyebrow. That did not sound like Heather. That did not sound like her at all. Had his spanking jolted something loose in her head? Surely he had not turned her entirely demure?


He looked at George. The blond shrugged. James looked back at the boy.


"And when shall Lady O'Roarke be returning. Has she said?" he asked the boy.


"Well, your highness, she said she would await your summons. She has been made very lonely by being sent away from you and is very sad for it."


"Sad for it?"


"Erm, she said that it was cruel how you parted her, Sir."


James put a finger to his chin, trying to make sense out of all this through the eyes of a page-boy.


"But she made quite the scene. Half of court is saying she left me."


"I beg your grace's pardon, but did you not leave her and then she left you?"


George snorted with amusement, and James chuckled. "Not that sort of leaving, Henry," James replied. "As in has left her position as my mistress. The other half of court is saying that she has been sent off just like the other mistresses." He put a hand to his face. Then he pulled it down and tapped his lips with his finger again, thinking.


What am I to do?



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