The Long Road Home, Ch. 13
We’re drawing near the conclusion - two chapters left after this. At this point I’m struggling between wanting to get it done, worrying about it dragging, and worrying about it being rushed. *headdesk*
Chapter 13
When Arthur awoke, the sky was a velvety pinkish-gray, the signal of an approaching dawn. He stirred, then stilled to prevent waking Morgana. Still fast asleep, her head was on his chest, her hair half-covering his face. Last night, he had discovered heaven. It existed not in the sky above but here on the riverbank with her. He also discovered, after consummating their marriage several times, that his new bride liked to bite. This was evident by several sore marks at various places on his body, including a particularly tender one on his upper thigh.
As if sensing that he was awake, Morgana mumbled something inaudible and opened her eyes. She smiled as their eyes met.
“Good morning,” he whispered.
“Morning. This is all so strange,” she said sleepily. “Us, I mean.”
He grinned wickedly. “Well it’s a little late to change your mind, I’m afraid,” he joked, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tight against him. God, her skin felt amazing next to his. He would be perfectly content to spend the rest of his life wrapped up with her like this, naked and warm.
“Never,” she replied, stretching to kiss her way up his neck and to his lips. “How does this suit you, Husband, waking up like this?”
“It suits me quite nicely, Wife,” he growled, moving to deepen the kiss. She rolled over on her back, pulling him on top of her. After a few minutes of kissing, Arthur realized begrudgingly that the sun was beginning to rise, and that they should get going. After all, there would be plenty of time for such... recreational activities in the future.
He moaned and pulled away from her mouth. “We should probably get back to camp,” he pointed out. “They’ll think we’ve been kidnapped.”
Morgana made a face. “Can’t we just tell the rest to go on ahead? We’ll catch up... in a few weeks.”
He chuckled. “The sooner we get this over with - I mean, telling Father about us - the sooner we can begin our new life.”
They reluctantly pulled apart and dressed themselves. “Such a strange honeymoon,” Morgana commented as they gathered up the blankets and began to walk up the hill.
“This isn’t such a bad way to live, you know,” Arthur remarked. “Out here in the wilderness, it makes on appreciate nature.”
Morgana rolled her eyes, smiling. “No. Not if you don’t require any sleep. Besides, this very well may be how we are living once your father finds out, Arthur.”
He shrugged off her concern. “You know,” he said thoughtfully as they grew close to camp. “I think that since we are now married, you should start addressing me as, ‘my Lord’.” He tried to make the suggestion with a straight face, but knowing full well how Morgan would react made him break into laughter.
Even in the low morning light, her eyes flashed. “I think that, if you ever want the events of last night to be repeated, you won’t suggest such a thing ever again.”
“You’re even more beautiful when you’re mad, have I ever told you that?” he asked, putting his arm around her waist and kissing her forehead, causing her to grin.
As they walked into camp, no one appeared to be awake, until Merlin poked his head out of Arthur’s own tent. “Did you sleep well, Sire?” he called smartly, stretching and yawning.
“What the hell were you doing in my tent?” Arthur asked. “You were to sleep in the cart!”
“Well, you weren’t using it,” Merlin shrugged. “And judging by the sounds coming from over the hill, you were perfectly content where you were.”
Arthur gaped at his servant, and made a mental note that once everything had blown over, he was going to have that talk with Merlin about a proper servant-master relationship. Silently cursing the blush he felt crawling up his cheeks, Arthur snapped, “Well, get moving. We have to be on our way soon.” He added as he walked away, “And wipe that smirk off your face!”
~ * ~ * ~
They traveled all day at a fast pace, with poor Merlin being jostled about in the cart as his horse cantered. Morgana was positively exhausted, but her heart was so light that she hardly noticed. Her relief, her joy, made everything around her brighter, from the blue skies to the blossoming trees. Even as they stopped for a second night, the newlyweds did allow each other much rest, instead finding much novel enjoyment in each other.
But as the turrets of Camelot appeared over the trees the next morning, Morgana began to feel a tweak of anxiety in her stomach. She exchanged a nervous look with Arthur. Although they had no regrets, this was reality - it was time to face the consequences of their actions. No matter how much Arthur tried to appear unconcerned, she knew that Uther would consider this betrayal. What if he considered it treason? Obviously he would never hurt his own son, but Morgana so doubted his love for her that she wouldn’t be surprised if she was kneeling on the scaffold the very next day. No, she told herself firmly, that won’t happen. No need to let her fears get out of hand.
Before reaching the city gates, Arthur stopped the party of travelers.
“We need to get in as quietly as possible,” he said. “I don’t want to draw attention, in case father finds out about what happened before we tell him.” He nodded to his knights. “Sir Bedwyr, Sir Rendrew, I want both of you to go in through the back gates. Try to avoid talking with anyone, and whatever you do, don’t mention... what happened. I put my faith in you.”
The men nodded their promise, and trotted off to the rear entrance of the castle, close to the knights’ lodgings. Gwen offered the use of her house as a meeting place, as it was just far enough away from the castle to avoid attention. Since they had traveled ahead of schedule, no one would be expecting their arrival until later that afternoon.
If the guards at the gate were curious about Morgana’s return, they didn’t show it. She avoided looking at them and stared straight ahead as she rode. The outlying village where Gwen lived was nearly silent, thankfully, because most people were at the market or in the fields. For now, they tethered the horses behind the house until they could safely cross to the stables.
They entered the dark little house, and Gwen set about lighting candles. It felt good to be back in Camelot, even if this wasn’t her own dwelling place. She settled down in the rocking chair by Gwen’s fireplace, Delia in her lap, as the group discussed their options. She noticed her husband leaning against the wall, his forehead wrinkled with concern as he tried to think of a plan.
“So, Arthur, how are you going to tell Uther?” asked Merlin.
“I won’t be telling him anything,” he replied, his face brightening as an idea struck him. “You will.”
“Me?! Why should I be the one to tell him?” Merlin protested. “You’re just too... chicken to do it yourself! Besides, your father thinks I’m an idiot.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Morgana spoke up, just as Arthur said, “I know.”
Merlin threw up his hands in exasperation. “If I have to be the one to tell him, he’ll find a way to blame this on me, and throw me in the stocks.”
“I promise, I won’t let him put you in the stocks.” Arthur then added irritably, “Though I should put you there for calling me a chicken.”
“You won’t let him put me in the stocks? I’ve heard that promise before.”
Morgana fell silent during the men’s squabble, and fought the urge to laugh. She may have married Arthur, but he and Merlin bickered like a long-wedded couple.
“This time of day he’ll be in his presence chamber doing paperwork,” Arthur reasoned. “He’ll be pretty relaxed, so it’s the perfect opportunity to spring this on him.”
Knowing he was fighting a losing battle, Merlin relented on one condition. “I’ll do it, but only if you come with me.”
“Fine. Who is the chicken now? I’ll go along, but I will wait outside the room.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”
“I’ll be back,” he whispered to Morgana, kissing her cheek lightly.
“I probably won’t be,” Merlin mumbled as they walked out the door.
“So,” Gwen said, coming to sit next to her mistress. “I finally have the chance to ask you in private. How was the wedding night, my Lady? Or should I say, Princess?”
Morgana grinned, nearly bubbling over with excitement at the chance to confess to her friend. “Gwen, it was positively magical...”.
~ * ~ * ~
Inside the castle, Arthur nearly had to drag Merlin to his father’s presence chamber. As they walked, he discussed the plan. “Now, I’ll wait outside the door. Tell him that Tormod died suddenly, and it was so horrible and sad, and then just throw in that Morgana and I got married after that. Simple as that.”
“Easy for you to say,” Merlin countered. “You’re not the one being fed to the beast.”
“He’s not a beast, he’s the king, and you’d best remember that.”
A guard was stationed outside Uther’s door, and Arthur nodded to him.
“We’ve returned from Gleanntan, and I’m here to see my father.” Then, shoving the bag containing Morgana’s unneeded dowry into Merlin’s hands, he whispered, “Here. Give him this. Money always puts him in a good mood.”
“Arthur, I really don’t know about this after all--”.
“Just go,” Arthur said, shoving Merlin through the doors, then pressing his ear to the crack.
“Your Majesty,” he heard Merlin say. “May I have a moment of your time?”
Uther was dismissive as usual. “You have arrived home from Gleanntan, I see. So where is my son?”
“This, this wh-why I’m here, S-Sire.” Oh lord, Merlin was stuttering. Arthur groaned and pressed his head to the wall. So maybe Merlin wasn’t the best choice to tell his father the news after all.
Uther’s impatience was already evident in his voice. “Whatever your reason is for being here, just state it.”
“You see, King Tormod was not in such good health after all, and just as the wedding began, he fell over and died.”
Uther was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry to hear that. He was a good ruler to his people.” He cleared his throat, then added, “So I assume Morgana has returned home, and the dowry will be returned?” Arthur thought he noted pleasure in his father’s voice.
“Yes, your Majesty,” Merlin took shaky steps forward and deposited the bag on Uther’s table. “But that is not all.” The fearful gulp he took before saying his next sentence was audible all the way out in the hall. “Arthur and Morgana got married.”
Uther was silent for such a time that Arthur grew worried that perhaps his father’s anger had caused him to turn into a puff of smoke. “They. Did. What?”
“Arthur and the Lady Morgana were married, Sire. They were married by the priest in Gleanntan.”
“They got married?”
“Yes,” Merlin squeaked.
Arthur jumped as he heard the sound of his father’s fist slamming into the table. “Just where is my son now?”
“Just outside the doo- er, what I mean to say is, I believe he is at the stables unloading the cart.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. Way to blow my cover, Merlin, he thought.
“Send him to me at once.”
Sheepishly and sweating, Merlin appeared and slipped out the door. “He wants to see you. I, um, don’t think he is very happy.”
“I heard every word. Nice going,” Arthur grumbled. “Wait here.”
Be strong, he told himself as he entered the room. He had faced many frightening foes in his life, but for some reason it was always his own father that was his weakness.
Uther was seated behind the table, glaring, his fingers tapping on the wood. “Arthur! How good of you to come. Do you have some news you want to share with me?” he asked sarcastically.
“Father, let me explain,” Arthur began. Maybe if he could find a better way of explaining the situation than Merlin did, then he could smooth things over.
“There is nothing to explain. It’s quite clear. You have married without my consent. Morgana has married without my consent. You married each other!” From the tone of Uther’s voice, it would suggest that nothing on earth could have been more preposterous.
“Yes, we did. Because I love her, she loves me! We wanted to be together, but you promised her off to a sickly old man. Tormod fell over and died just before his wedding could happen. So, Morgana and I… we decided to listen to our hearts for once.”
“Listen to your hearts?” Uther rubbed his forehead as if in great pain. “Tell me, has this marriage been consummated?”
Arthur groaned. This was not something he wanted to discuss with his father! “Of course it has!”
“That will make it harder to annul. But this needs to be fixed before the rest of Camelot finds out!”
Arthur was growing exasperated. “What’s wrong with them finding out? The people would be thrilled to know of their new princess. You know they love Morgana.”
“Yes they do. And her future is in my hands, she is my ward!” Uther snapped.
Arthur took a deep breath and stood taller, steeling himself. He had always backed down to his father’s wishes, but now things were different. “She is no longer your ward. She is my wife. In the eyes of the law, her welfare is my concern, not yours.” There was something thrilling, he realized, about talking to his rather like this.
Uther’s eyes widened. “How dare you speak to me like that?” he accused, breathless and visibly shocked. He stood up and pointed his finger at Arthur. “You are both banished from the castle until I decide exactly what your punishment shall be. I don’t want either of you in my sight. You’re on your own to find somewhere else to stay. And do not tell anyone of this marriage. For now, I will be having Geoffrey of Monmouth look into an annulment.”
Arthur withdrew the marriage document from his jacket pocket. “I have the paperwork right here. It’s legal and binding. Father Cassian from Gleanntan conducted the ceremony.”
“We’ll see about that,” Uther grimaced, snapping the paper out of Arthur’s hand and calling for the guards. “You are not to allow Prince Arthur to reenter the castle under any circumstances,” he instructed. “Make sure all the guards know it.”
Arthur waved off the guard who had roughly grabbed his arm. “I’ll show myself out,” he seethed, then addressed his father. “If I had returned without her, I would have been miserable. And I’m happy now, Father, happier than I’ve ever been, because I’ve married Morgana.” Once the angry words started flowing, it was hard to stop them. He shouted over his shoulder, “Perhaps you are just jealous. You want everyone else in this kingdom to be as miserable as you.”
Chapter 14 is here: http://a-boleyn1230.livejournal.com/140155.html#cutid1
Chapter 13
When Arthur awoke, the sky was a velvety pinkish-gray, the signal of an approaching dawn. He stirred, then stilled to prevent waking Morgana. Still fast asleep, her head was on his chest, her hair half-covering his face. Last night, he had discovered heaven. It existed not in the sky above but here on the riverbank with her. He also discovered, after consummating their marriage several times, that his new bride liked to bite. This was evident by several sore marks at various places on his body, including a particularly tender one on his upper thigh.
As if sensing that he was awake, Morgana mumbled something inaudible and opened her eyes. She smiled as their eyes met.
“Good morning,” he whispered.
“Morning. This is all so strange,” she said sleepily. “Us, I mean.”
He grinned wickedly. “Well it’s a little late to change your mind, I’m afraid,” he joked, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tight against him. God, her skin felt amazing next to his. He would be perfectly content to spend the rest of his life wrapped up with her like this, naked and warm.
“Never,” she replied, stretching to kiss her way up his neck and to his lips. “How does this suit you, Husband, waking up like this?”
“It suits me quite nicely, Wife,” he growled, moving to deepen the kiss. She rolled over on her back, pulling him on top of her. After a few minutes of kissing, Arthur realized begrudgingly that the sun was beginning to rise, and that they should get going. After all, there would be plenty of time for such... recreational activities in the future.
He moaned and pulled away from her mouth. “We should probably get back to camp,” he pointed out. “They’ll think we’ve been kidnapped.”
Morgana made a face. “Can’t we just tell the rest to go on ahead? We’ll catch up... in a few weeks.”
He chuckled. “The sooner we get this over with - I mean, telling Father about us - the sooner we can begin our new life.”
They reluctantly pulled apart and dressed themselves. “Such a strange honeymoon,” Morgana commented as they gathered up the blankets and began to walk up the hill.
“This isn’t such a bad way to live, you know,” Arthur remarked. “Out here in the wilderness, it makes on appreciate nature.”
Morgana rolled her eyes, smiling. “No. Not if you don’t require any sleep. Besides, this very well may be how we are living once your father finds out, Arthur.”
He shrugged off her concern. “You know,” he said thoughtfully as they grew close to camp. “I think that since we are now married, you should start addressing me as, ‘my Lord’.” He tried to make the suggestion with a straight face, but knowing full well how Morgan would react made him break into laughter.
Even in the low morning light, her eyes flashed. “I think that, if you ever want the events of last night to be repeated, you won’t suggest such a thing ever again.”
“You’re even more beautiful when you’re mad, have I ever told you that?” he asked, putting his arm around her waist and kissing her forehead, causing her to grin.
As they walked into camp, no one appeared to be awake, until Merlin poked his head out of Arthur’s own tent. “Did you sleep well, Sire?” he called smartly, stretching and yawning.
“What the hell were you doing in my tent?” Arthur asked. “You were to sleep in the cart!”
“Well, you weren’t using it,” Merlin shrugged. “And judging by the sounds coming from over the hill, you were perfectly content where you were.”
Arthur gaped at his servant, and made a mental note that once everything had blown over, he was going to have that talk with Merlin about a proper servant-master relationship. Silently cursing the blush he felt crawling up his cheeks, Arthur snapped, “Well, get moving. We have to be on our way soon.” He added as he walked away, “And wipe that smirk off your face!”
~ * ~ * ~
They traveled all day at a fast pace, with poor Merlin being jostled about in the cart as his horse cantered. Morgana was positively exhausted, but her heart was so light that she hardly noticed. Her relief, her joy, made everything around her brighter, from the blue skies to the blossoming trees. Even as they stopped for a second night, the newlyweds did allow each other much rest, instead finding much novel enjoyment in each other.
But as the turrets of Camelot appeared over the trees the next morning, Morgana began to feel a tweak of anxiety in her stomach. She exchanged a nervous look with Arthur. Although they had no regrets, this was reality - it was time to face the consequences of their actions. No matter how much Arthur tried to appear unconcerned, she knew that Uther would consider this betrayal. What if he considered it treason? Obviously he would never hurt his own son, but Morgana so doubted his love for her that she wouldn’t be surprised if she was kneeling on the scaffold the very next day. No, she told herself firmly, that won’t happen. No need to let her fears get out of hand.
Before reaching the city gates, Arthur stopped the party of travelers.
“We need to get in as quietly as possible,” he said. “I don’t want to draw attention, in case father finds out about what happened before we tell him.” He nodded to his knights. “Sir Bedwyr, Sir Rendrew, I want both of you to go in through the back gates. Try to avoid talking with anyone, and whatever you do, don’t mention... what happened. I put my faith in you.”
The men nodded their promise, and trotted off to the rear entrance of the castle, close to the knights’ lodgings. Gwen offered the use of her house as a meeting place, as it was just far enough away from the castle to avoid attention. Since they had traveled ahead of schedule, no one would be expecting their arrival until later that afternoon.
If the guards at the gate were curious about Morgana’s return, they didn’t show it. She avoided looking at them and stared straight ahead as she rode. The outlying village where Gwen lived was nearly silent, thankfully, because most people were at the market or in the fields. For now, they tethered the horses behind the house until they could safely cross to the stables.
They entered the dark little house, and Gwen set about lighting candles. It felt good to be back in Camelot, even if this wasn’t her own dwelling place. She settled down in the rocking chair by Gwen’s fireplace, Delia in her lap, as the group discussed their options. She noticed her husband leaning against the wall, his forehead wrinkled with concern as he tried to think of a plan.
“So, Arthur, how are you going to tell Uther?” asked Merlin.
“I won’t be telling him anything,” he replied, his face brightening as an idea struck him. “You will.”
“Me?! Why should I be the one to tell him?” Merlin protested. “You’re just too... chicken to do it yourself! Besides, your father thinks I’m an idiot.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Morgana spoke up, just as Arthur said, “I know.”
Merlin threw up his hands in exasperation. “If I have to be the one to tell him, he’ll find a way to blame this on me, and throw me in the stocks.”
“I promise, I won’t let him put you in the stocks.” Arthur then added irritably, “Though I should put you there for calling me a chicken.”
“You won’t let him put me in the stocks? I’ve heard that promise before.”
Morgana fell silent during the men’s squabble, and fought the urge to laugh. She may have married Arthur, but he and Merlin bickered like a long-wedded couple.
“This time of day he’ll be in his presence chamber doing paperwork,” Arthur reasoned. “He’ll be pretty relaxed, so it’s the perfect opportunity to spring this on him.”
Knowing he was fighting a losing battle, Merlin relented on one condition. “I’ll do it, but only if you come with me.”
“Fine. Who is the chicken now? I’ll go along, but I will wait outside the room.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”
“I’ll be back,” he whispered to Morgana, kissing her cheek lightly.
“I probably won’t be,” Merlin mumbled as they walked out the door.
“So,” Gwen said, coming to sit next to her mistress. “I finally have the chance to ask you in private. How was the wedding night, my Lady? Or should I say, Princess?”
Morgana grinned, nearly bubbling over with excitement at the chance to confess to her friend. “Gwen, it was positively magical...”.
~ * ~ * ~
Inside the castle, Arthur nearly had to drag Merlin to his father’s presence chamber. As they walked, he discussed the plan. “Now, I’ll wait outside the door. Tell him that Tormod died suddenly, and it was so horrible and sad, and then just throw in that Morgana and I got married after that. Simple as that.”
“Easy for you to say,” Merlin countered. “You’re not the one being fed to the beast.”
“He’s not a beast, he’s the king, and you’d best remember that.”
A guard was stationed outside Uther’s door, and Arthur nodded to him.
“We’ve returned from Gleanntan, and I’m here to see my father.” Then, shoving the bag containing Morgana’s unneeded dowry into Merlin’s hands, he whispered, “Here. Give him this. Money always puts him in a good mood.”
“Arthur, I really don’t know about this after all--”.
“Just go,” Arthur said, shoving Merlin through the doors, then pressing his ear to the crack.
“Your Majesty,” he heard Merlin say. “May I have a moment of your time?”
Uther was dismissive as usual. “You have arrived home from Gleanntan, I see. So where is my son?”
“This, this wh-why I’m here, S-Sire.” Oh lord, Merlin was stuttering. Arthur groaned and pressed his head to the wall. So maybe Merlin wasn’t the best choice to tell his father the news after all.
Uther’s impatience was already evident in his voice. “Whatever your reason is for being here, just state it.”
“You see, King Tormod was not in such good health after all, and just as the wedding began, he fell over and died.”
Uther was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry to hear that. He was a good ruler to his people.” He cleared his throat, then added, “So I assume Morgana has returned home, and the dowry will be returned?” Arthur thought he noted pleasure in his father’s voice.
“Yes, your Majesty,” Merlin took shaky steps forward and deposited the bag on Uther’s table. “But that is not all.” The fearful gulp he took before saying his next sentence was audible all the way out in the hall. “Arthur and Morgana got married.”
Uther was silent for such a time that Arthur grew worried that perhaps his father’s anger had caused him to turn into a puff of smoke. “They. Did. What?”
“Arthur and the Lady Morgana were married, Sire. They were married by the priest in Gleanntan.”
“They got married?”
“Yes,” Merlin squeaked.
Arthur jumped as he heard the sound of his father’s fist slamming into the table. “Just where is my son now?”
“Just outside the doo- er, what I mean to say is, I believe he is at the stables unloading the cart.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. Way to blow my cover, Merlin, he thought.
“Send him to me at once.”
Sheepishly and sweating, Merlin appeared and slipped out the door. “He wants to see you. I, um, don’t think he is very happy.”
“I heard every word. Nice going,” Arthur grumbled. “Wait here.”
Be strong, he told himself as he entered the room. He had faced many frightening foes in his life, but for some reason it was always his own father that was his weakness.
Uther was seated behind the table, glaring, his fingers tapping on the wood. “Arthur! How good of you to come. Do you have some news you want to share with me?” he asked sarcastically.
“Father, let me explain,” Arthur began. Maybe if he could find a better way of explaining the situation than Merlin did, then he could smooth things over.
“There is nothing to explain. It’s quite clear. You have married without my consent. Morgana has married without my consent. You married each other!” From the tone of Uther’s voice, it would suggest that nothing on earth could have been more preposterous.
“Yes, we did. Because I love her, she loves me! We wanted to be together, but you promised her off to a sickly old man. Tormod fell over and died just before his wedding could happen. So, Morgana and I… we decided to listen to our hearts for once.”
“Listen to your hearts?” Uther rubbed his forehead as if in great pain. “Tell me, has this marriage been consummated?”
Arthur groaned. This was not something he wanted to discuss with his father! “Of course it has!”
“That will make it harder to annul. But this needs to be fixed before the rest of Camelot finds out!”
Arthur was growing exasperated. “What’s wrong with them finding out? The people would be thrilled to know of their new princess. You know they love Morgana.”
“Yes they do. And her future is in my hands, she is my ward!” Uther snapped.
Arthur took a deep breath and stood taller, steeling himself. He had always backed down to his father’s wishes, but now things were different. “She is no longer your ward. She is my wife. In the eyes of the law, her welfare is my concern, not yours.” There was something thrilling, he realized, about talking to his rather like this.
Uther’s eyes widened. “How dare you speak to me like that?” he accused, breathless and visibly shocked. He stood up and pointed his finger at Arthur. “You are both banished from the castle until I decide exactly what your punishment shall be. I don’t want either of you in my sight. You’re on your own to find somewhere else to stay. And do not tell anyone of this marriage. For now, I will be having Geoffrey of Monmouth look into an annulment.”
Arthur withdrew the marriage document from his jacket pocket. “I have the paperwork right here. It’s legal and binding. Father Cassian from Gleanntan conducted the ceremony.”
“We’ll see about that,” Uther grimaced, snapping the paper out of Arthur’s hand and calling for the guards. “You are not to allow Prince Arthur to reenter the castle under any circumstances,” he instructed. “Make sure all the guards know it.”
Arthur waved off the guard who had roughly grabbed his arm. “I’ll show myself out,” he seethed, then addressed his father. “If I had returned without her, I would have been miserable. And I’m happy now, Father, happier than I’ve ever been, because I’ve married Morgana.” Once the angry words started flowing, it was hard to stop them. He shouted over his shoulder, “Perhaps you are just jealous. You want everyone else in this kingdom to be as miserable as you.”
Chapter 14 is here: http://a-boleyn1230.livejournal.com/140155.html#cutid1