The massive oak doors wedged home with a thunderous, definitive bang behind him, instantly closing off the King and the Queen from the rest of the frantic whispering of the palace.And they would whisper indeed of today.
The guards who usually stood like iron statues outside the chambers had already been dismissed with a sharp, sweeping glare from the king. They were utterly alone now, with no one to listen to the storm that was about to break.
Alpheo's hand slowly drifted up to his reddened, stinging cheek. He traced the warmth of the bloom with his fingers, a wry, nostalgic thought crossing his mind. The last time this woman had slapped him across the face had been during their very first meeting, nearly fifteen winters ago.
It still stung.
