Rock Valley

“Marius!!!!�

The Queen forgot all etiquette rules she had learned since birth and screamed for her husband as her abdomen seemed to rupture into two.

“Marius, help!!� She cried from the pain as she clutched her stomach.

The King, who had been in the bath tub at that time, heard his love’s screams and rushed to her aid, like a knight rescuing a damsel in distress.

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Mary Tudor was looking in the reflective glass that hung of her bedroom wall. Her breasts hung lower and she noticed a lot more lines in her face than she used to. Her hair, once her pride, was now gray and cut short. Mary felt old. The only children she ever bore were adults with there own houses, her son had just been coroneted and his lady had taken her place as Queen of Lothian.

James walked into the room and saw his wife staring at her reflection. He knew what she was thinking, but it wasn’t true. She was still beautiful.

“You are as beautiful as the day I first saw you, my Queen� he spoke and pulled her into an embrace.

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Calendra stood in the small room that was hers for the next two years and stared out of the window.
This sure was different from her luxurious chambers in the Royal Palace.

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“You do know that I love, don’t you My Lady?� Marvolo Ruffia spoke to his bride. “I don’t regret my parent’s decision at all�.
“Mylord, neither do I� responded Lady Eveline Ruffia, daughter of lord and lady Pecuniaris to her husband. “I’m happy with the way God decided to guide my path�
Marvolo needn’t know more and kissed his bride.

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James was facing the window. He did not speak and continued staring outside.

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It was four’o clock in the morning when the Lady Pecuniaris went to pick up the two year old daughter Eveline. The toddler had been whining for her mother to come for half an hour before Caroline found the energy to get out of bed.

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Warning: This post contains some nudity and mild sexual descriptions. If you are not comfortable reading about such things or seeing pixel-nudity, please do not read any further.

James Tudor could not keep his eyes of her.
Mary. Mary de Valois-de Camps, princess of France and duchesse of Brabant. And his betrothed.
Every time the king of Lothian thought about his future spouse, his eyes went blurry and his advisors had to practically shake him by the shoulders to get any kind of decision out of him.

And today she was arriving. That next day they were to be wed by the archbishop and then she would be his. Mary Tudor. Yes. It sounded good.

James shook his head and thought back at the first time he laid eye on her, at her father’s 30th year in power feast.

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It was eight o’ clock when Jenna Coombs had finished her housework and picked up her youngest child. The little boy held on to his mother, knowing food was coming and his hunger was about to be relieved.

Jenna sat down on the hard wooden bench in her hallway and uncovered her breast. As her baby made happy noises eating away, a familiar voice called her name and broke the peaceful moment Jenna enjoyed with her son.
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