When the king yawns the next morning, it’s loud enough to rip me out of my uneasy sleep. I bolt upright, looking down at the mountain of pillows I stacked between us. Ripping the wall down, I shove some pillows under my head and hurl the others to the floor before I dive back into a sleeping position.
I close my eyes as the mattress gives under Henry’s weight. He’s inching closer to me, gently shaking my shoulder. “Catherine? Catherine, my love, are you awake?”
This is for the consideration of the academy.
I flutter my eyes open, smiling dreamily when I meet the king’s drowsy gaze. “Good morning,” I mumble, stretching against the pillows.
Henry scratches at his arm. “How long was I asleep?”
Sunlight is pouring in from the windows. It wouldn’t hurt for me to look drowsy, too. “I’m not sure,” I answer, rubbing my eyelids. “I fell asleep right after you. Maybe even before you.” I roll onto my side, propping my hand under my head. “I guess we were tired after our marital activities.”
“Our activities?” Henry’s eyes are still clouded, but he’s intrigued now, too.
I keep my voice playful as I answer him. “You don’t remember? Henry, you did things to me last night that I never even knew were possible. I just hope that I didn’t disappoint you. You have so much more experience than me.”
A prideful red blush colors his bearded cheeks. “Well, Iama bit older than you, Catherine.”
“Barely!” He rolls to face me as I go on, not wanting to miss a word of the verbal gold I’m spewing. “But you were so tender at the same time. When you held me in your arms, after I was literally shaking from wave upon wave of pleasure... I just felt so connected to you.”
“Wave upon wave?” he asks hopefully, even boyishly.
I sit up taller to emphasize my words. “Wave. Upon. Wave.” Henry’s eyes are sparkling. He can hardly contain his impish grin.
“I hope I wasn’t too loud,” I admit a little shyly. “I didn’t mean to be, but I couldn’t help myself. I’d be so embarrassed if anyone in the hall heard me.”
Henry sits up against the pillow and takes my hands. “Let it not trouble you. If anyone heard our cries of love, they’ll understand it was because God blessed our union and wished it so.”
“It really was a religious experience.” Henry lets out a carefree sigh. He folds his arms behind his head and looks up at the ceiling. He’s entirely too comfortable. “So how do things work around here?” I ask. “Do I get out of bed first or do you? I’m new to this queen business.”
He gives me an oh-silly-Catherine smile and sits up again, seemingly full of energy. “I will get up first, my love. Your ladies will attend to you shortly, and I’ll see you at dinner this evening.”
He slowly but resolutely makes his way off the mattress. I hop out of bed after him, helping him to put on his robe.
“I miss you already!” I tell him with a gentle shove toward the door.
He gives me a smirk over his shoulder as he knocks and waits. The door swings open to reveal at least ten lords in the hallway. It’s utter silence until they erupt in boisterous cheers. Henry dives into the crowd like a returning sex hero, allowing Bessie and Cecily to sneak in behind him. They close the doors on the frat-like vibe that’s tangibly pulsating through the hall.
“I suppose it worked, then?” Bessie asks.
“Oh, it worked,” I tell her, falling back into bed. “It worked, and I worked, and now I’m ready for a very long nap.”
Cecily rounds the mattress and pulls me up by my arms. “There’s no rest for the wicked, Your Majesty, especially when there’s a roomful of women waiting to attend to you.”
“What do you mean?”
My arms are still slack in Cecily’s hold when Lady Rochford whips the door open, stomping into the room like an inconvenienced drill sergeant.
“Good morning, Your Majesty. I see that you’re only just out of bed, so once you are bathed, fed, and dressed, we can carry on with your daily goings-on as queen. If it pleases you, we can attend mass straightaway. I’ve already attended twice this morning, but who’s counting. Or, if you prefer, there’s a choir visiting from Wales that is rather good. They’re assembled in the Great Watching Chamber.”
I’m so tired after being on Henry-please-stay-comatose watch all night that the thought of listening to high-pitched singers sounds as tempting as a rougher-than-normal pap smear.
I rub my hands over my weary face. “I have a different idea. What if we don’t do any of that, and we decide to have a girls’ day instead?”
Lady Rochford watches me with a mixture of bewilderment and disgust. “What’s a girls’ day?”
There are now over a dozen of us women lounging around in my inner receiving room. Blankets and pillows are strewn on the floor; we’re fully dressed but with warm washcloths on our faces or cucumbers on our eyes. I’d like to say that the ladies are embracing the experience,but they look more like a collection of statues that have tumbled to the floor. William and Bartholomew are providing what’s meant to be a relaxing soundtrack via a lute and flute, but they seem equally uncomfortable. Bessie is the only one who appears somewhat at ease, but that’s because she’s leaning backwards as she enjoys a snack.
“Bessie, stop eating all the cucumbers.”
