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Brother to Brother | York & King


Defiance
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"What have you done, Charles! Really!" James bellowed, face turning a bit red.

 

The King had successfully dodged his royal baby brother for all of Tuesday, but he could not be put off further. James had access to him directly and had used it. He had blown right through poor Tom Herbert trying to stand in his way, shoving the young man into a side-table and opening the door himself, charging right in on the King and a few of his friends. That was the manner in which this entire conversation had gotten started.

 

"You know what I have done," Charles replied, with an innocent smile as if he was completely unaware of why his brother was yelling about it. He just knew how to push James' buttons, not with the marriage but with tormenting him now. It was a diversion, really, of any elder brother. As King, he enjoyed it particularly.

 

"Why, why did you do it! You have made a fool out of me! You have endangered her!"

 

The King did not even dignify that with a response, because all that would have come out was that James was very good at that all on his own.

 

"My mistress, my Heather, & Middlesex! Have you lost your wits?"

 

"It seemed like a very good idea at the time and, as a matter of course, at the time I really had lost my wits some. Opium, you know. Perhaps Middlesex is more to blame than I, because I suspect he and Rochester schemed the drinks, but Rochester seemed the best schemed of all." The King seemed thoroughly amused.

 

"It is not funny, Charles. What of her money, hm? Her freedom? Me?" James said, throwing his hands down to his sides in exasperation, growing more and more annoyed.

 

"Oh James, it is not always about you," the King fired back. "You think everything from everyone is an affront unless they are perfectly obedient to your wishes and station, which is fine perhaps for friends and servants, but is not fine for your brother, the King!"

 

York had enough, and he grabbed the thing closest to him and flung it at his brother. The goblet bounced off the King's shoulders and clattered across the floor. He glared defiantly.

 

"If the Mob would not have a collective orgasm, I would have half a mind to send you to the Tower," the King said, almost with a hint of amusement in his voice. He then added more seriously, "Do not try me or I shall send you to Scotland and Monmouth back to the Dutch with your daughter. That shall be significantly less whinging and family drama, do you not think? Shall the King have no peace at all?" Charles raised his hands up in a flippant way, not altogether serious, but not entirely jesting either. "Blame the earl, he is far more at fault than I."

 

"Well he shall find his father's rooms in my household shall not be given to him," York declared with a raise of his chin that might have been comical if he had also stomped his foot, which he had not.

 

It was petulant and amusing and the only immediate revenge that came to his mind. James was not the quickest at such thoughts, especially when distracted by anger.

 

"Think of it positively. At least your lady wife shall complain less." Charles snorted with amusement.

"But do not worry, our new Dorset plans to get it annulled by the archbishop post haste, I believe, so you can stop yelling and having a fit."

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