#Royal Rebel (Flings with Kings series)

[legobiwan]

So I was prompted to write my own take on the Luigi jailbreak scenario via someone's tags :D I'll probably cross-post this to ao3 sometime later today.

I've definitely taken a more comedic bent with my interpretation, which I feel is in more in line with what the movie will be like. But there's some smidgens of angst. And a fair amount of silliness. And yes, the brothers will reunite at the end :)

And so, I give you, "Jailbreak." A comedy in two parts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Speech! Speech! Speech!”

“I’m not really much of a speech-giver…” Luigi protests as the Penguin King’s burly aide pushes him towards the center of the gathered escapees. 

The chamber, or the evil rotunda, as Luigi thinks of it, is a circular room punched through the middle, a series of chains descending from a large, wooden crank set high in the rafters. Bits of armor and weaponry are strewn about the floor, spears and hammers and something resembling a megaphone that shoots fire, which was definitely the first thing Luigi clipped to his belt after they had thrown the remaining guards into the pit. The interior design can only be described as ghoulish, stone busts of various Koopas, as he had learned they were called, inflicting violence on various species - penguins, birds, some kind of mushroom people, and a green, happy-looking lizard wearing boots and a saddle. 

The Penguin aide continues to push him bodily through the throng, which is smushed together near the entrance doors, careful to keep far, far away from the menacing cavity in the middle of the room. Luigi takes stock of the strange group, wondering how in the hell he went from checking out a warehouse leak in Flushing to shimmying up a chain dangling over a pit of lava to knocking out an armed, sentient turtle with a well-placed pitch of one of those ghastly busts.

“Gathered friends,” the aide begins, having caught the attention of the murmuring group. “Fellow penguins, goombas, birdos, and…” he trails off, glancing over at Luma, who gives a high-pitched, broken giggle, the effect of which is like nails drawn across a chalkboard. The penguin’s expression crumples into folds of distaste. “And psychotic star…things…”

“Weeeee!” Luma exclaims helpfully, bounding across the ceiling rafters, setting the chains off into a chorus of tortured groans.

The aide clears his throat. “Yes, well. As I was saying. We’re gathered here today - or tonight. Or maybe this afternoon. You know, it’s honestly hard to know being stuck in the bowels of a lava castle…” Off to the side, the Penguin King is making cutting gestures across his throat. 

“It’s two thirty-seven!” one of the Goombas calls from the back.

“Afternoon, then! That’s lunchtime!” a Birdo exclaims from the other side of the room.

“I could eat!”

“Me, too. Think they have any turnips down here?”

“Weeeee!”

The aide slaps a fin to his forehead with a deep sigh. “Can we please focus here?” he yells over the growing din. Luigi chews on his lower lip, fingering the trigger of the fire gun hanging from his belt. This is the ragtag group of rebels he's supposed to be leading to the gates of the Lava Castle?

He’s definitely going to die here.

“As I was saying,” the aide begins again, deepening his voice into a royal solemnity. “In our darkest hour - “

“It’s still two thirty-seven, Mr. Penguin!”

“In our darkest lightest hour,” the aide hisses. “A hero arrived from another world. Beaten but not defeated, he liberated us from our imprisonment with his courage, intelligence, and most importantly, his opposable thumbs. And now, this hero will lead us to storm the gates of the Koopa Castle and aid us in smiting our enemies to take back what is ours!”

“Friends, I give you - “ the penguin flings his fins open, whacking the Luigi in the shin. 

“Our hero - Loogi!”

The crowd erupts in a high-pitched cheer, raising an assortment of cobbled-together weapons over their small heads. Even the ridiculous, toothy Goombas are hopping up and down, chanting Loogi! Loogi! Loogi!

Luigi pulls at his collar, giving the odd gathering the kind of half-smile, half-grimace he usually reserved for school pictures and his brother’s cooking. 

“Uhhhhh…..” Luigi begins when the clamor dies down. He gives a small wave in all directions, adding, “Hi?”

Fifty or so pairs of eyes, and some other appendages he couldn’t even begin to name, stare at him wide-eyed, expectant. He wonders if they see him as some kind of action hero, or trained assassin, or even a mercenary soldier of fortune, like that one movie he and his brother watched all the time back in Bensonurst.

What the hell is he supposed to say? He’s a mechanical engineer-turned-plumber from Brooklyn, a street kid and a science geek, not some kind of war hero. Not to mention, he still doesn’t know where the hell he is, surrounded by talking penguins, birds with cannons for mouths, and whatever those weird little Goombas are supposed to be.

Luigi clenches his jaw.

He thinks it’s been about three days since he was dropped unceremoniously into whatever incarnation of hell this place is supposed to be. And in that time, he’s been chased by skeletons and tied up by a bunch of miniature red monks with gasmasks. He’s had his moustache hairs plucked out by a giant, firebreathing turtle bent on taking over whatever world this was. He’s been magically levitated and thrown about by a dinosaur wizard in a goofy hat. And to top it all off, to put the crap cherry on the crap cake, he was tossed into a cage like some old lady’s pet bird and dropped over a pit of freakin’ lava. 

Screw speeches. I want Bowser’s kneecaps.

“You guys want a speech?” Luigi growls, tightening his grip on the gigantic hammer in his hand. “Here’s your damn speech.” Luigi raises his weapon over his head, yelling, “Let’s kick some Koopa ass!”

A raucous cheer rises from the gathered motley group, Luma zooming around the chamber, shouting “Meat for the grinder! Meat for the grinder!” between fits of maniacal laughter. The penguins dance awkwardly, their weapons twice as large as they are and Luigi hopes what they lack in stature they can make up for with enthusiasm. Off to the side, the collection of Goombas bounce up and down. Without any discernible arms or hands, Luigi has no clue what help the Goombas could be, but who knows? Maybe they can bite somebody with those fangs.

He has no plan, no knowledge of where he is, and he prays to every deity he can name that his brother is safe, that whatever world he got pulled into is treating him better than this one has Luigi. But watching the ragtag group celebrate in front of him, he feels something akin to hope.

For the first time in three days, Luigi smiles. 

Maybe, just maybe, he can be a hero after all. 

--------------------------------------

Epilogue

“Watch to your left, Loogi!”

Luigi spins, hurtling his hammer at a charging spiny-shelled Koopa, sending him flying into the general fracas of the first floor antechamber. Towards the middle of the room, Penguins and Birdos and little mushroom people armed with spears are battling it out with Bowser’s minions, shell, fur, and feather flying as his ragtag band of rebels pokes and swats and, in some cases, bodily hurl themselves at the gathered Koopa forces. 

Luigi sprints to retrieve his hammer, intent on throwing himself into the fray when the large double-doors to the throne room boom open in a rush of blinding, white light. It takes Luigi a minute for his eyes to adjust, so long has he been trapped in the gloomy castle chambers. There’s something coming from the light, some kind of shadow hurtling forward. Luigi squints, raising his hammer above his head, ready to strike at whatever newest enemy he'll be certain to pound into the ground.

“Luigi?” An all-too familiar voice yelps from across the chamber. “What in the - “ his brother stammers, rushing towards him, stopping short a few feet away. “Why the hell do you look like Duke Murdock?”

Luigi smashes his hammer down on one of those stupid skeletons, sending splinters everywhere. He turns to his brother, suddenly very aware of his tattered overalls, his soot-stained cap, the dark bags beneath his eyes. "What do you mean?” Luigi counters. “It's a great movie!"

"That's not the point, meatball head! What are you doing?" Mario gestures at the wild chaos unfolding between the escapees and the Koopa troops.

"I'm trying to run a rebellion here, big bro. You could stop standing there and help, you know."

"A rebellion, I - " Mario chuckles, jogging to his brother's side. "Why am I not surprised?"

With the arrival of Mario and his allies, the melee turns decidedly against the Koopas, who, sensing victory slipping through their claws, launch one last offensive of spikes and shells. Luigi and his brother get to work, slamming, punching, and pounding their enemies. It strikes Luigi that Mario looks like he knows what he’s doing, almost as if he’s had some kind of combat training, like he's the one trying to be Duke Murdock. He’s about to ask his brother about it when Mario stops, pulling, of all things, a flower from his overalls.

“Have you gone insane?” Luigi yells.

But he’s left speechless as his brother is enveloped by two quick flashes of light, his overalls changing from blue to white. Luigi's jaw drops open. He has seen a lot of weird crap in the last few days but his brother, performing real magic?

What is this place?

A moment later, Mario winds up, as if he were pitching for his high school baseball team again, letting loose a series of fireballs from his palm, which barrel into the Koopa forces, sending them flying like a set of ten-pins.

"Holy hell, bro!" Luigi exclaims. "You have got to teach me how to do that!"

"Oh no," Mario rockets another flaming missile towards a group of Spinys. "You remember the flambé incident that one Valentine's Day." Luigi groans, slamming his hammer into one of those gas mask monks who kidnapped him. "And the Benson burner in high school." Luigi groans again. "And the fuel injector in the van - "

"That one was not my fault!" Luigi exclaims over the whine of a spiky projectile which whizzes past his head, knocking his cap to the ground.

Mario’s eyes widen as he pulls Luigi towards him, spinning him around so they’re back-to-back.

"You're not going near fire," Mario says over his shoulder.

Too bad his fire gun gave out three levels ago, Luigi thinks, slashing his hammer into the gut of a large Koopa Trooper.

"Electricity, then," Luigi says as he makes a second parry with the hammer. The Koopa Trooper falls back, grunting.

"Wait, what?" Mario shoots him a look, throwing another fireball into the fray.

"Electricity. If you can shoot fireballs, I get to shoot electricity."

Mario gives an aggrieved sigh.

"I - no. First of all, that's not even possible. Second of all, no. And third of all…” Mario trails off, his features softening. The battle is on its last legs, penguins and mushrooms giving chase to a small group of Koopa stragglers, who scurry towards the nearest exit. 

Mario turns, taking Luigi by his shoulders. 

“You're taking this all really well, Luigi."

Luigi gives a wan smile, gaze finding the floor. "Bro, I've led a prison escape gang consisting of penguins, walking mushrooms, and one really messed-up star. We broke out from cages hanging over a pit of lava, stole weapons, and have fought our way up here ever since."

He doesn’t mention being chased through a nightmare hellscape by a pack of hungry skeletons. Doesn’t mention being kidnapped, hands bound, led by a rope through the Dark Land to meet almost certain death. He doesn���t mention the moustache. 

His brother doesn’t need to know about all of that. It’s enough - more than enough - that he’s here. 

Luigi’s chest tightens. "Nothing short of ghosts is going to surprise me at this point, bro," he laughs. It’s a wet, croaky sound.

Mario stares at his brother for a moment. All at once, he grabs Luigi, enveloping his brother in a fierce hug. 

"Pasta brain,” Mario whispers, ragged, into Luigi's shoulder.

The tension from the last few days - the constant alert, the self-preservation, the seemingly never-ending threat of death - it all seeps away in the safety of his brother’s arms. So what if they’re marooned on some other world, other universe, far away from anything resembling Brooklyn? He’s got Mario and that’s all he needs.

"Pizza breath," Luigi replies softly.

Mario grips him tighter. "I'm so, so glad you're safe, bro."

I've missed you so much. Luigi returns the hug with equal intensity. "Me, too, Mario."

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

The King of Hearts (E.D. AU)

Summary: What happens when a future king falls for a commoner while he’s betrothed to another?

Warnings: mostly fluff, mentions of death and blood

Word count: 4000

Series MASTERLIST 

In a country now surrounded by ice, far away, stood an old, black castle, a stark contrast to its surroundings. Inside the castle, the royal family presides, waiting out the harsh winter and the cold it brought.

The Dolan family.

They ruled over their country with a firm, but fair hand, holding their position for centuries. A picture perfect family, no scandals recorded since the start of their reign.

Well, that was about to change.

Holding a feast to celebrate the arrival of their guests, King held a grand dinner in the castle, inviting everyone to attend, even his servants and commoners.

Princes sat around the table, joking around like they always do, bickering about who would win if they truly crossed their swords together, but hoping to never truly find out.

I stood in the shadows, holding on to my new, almost royal looking dress. Saving up for years to buy material for something proper in hopes of attending a ball and seeing the royals just once in my life. I've worked with my mother as a seamstress for years before she died, and the dress I wore was of my own making.

The color purple to signify my support of the royal house, but a waistline as white as snow that kept the winter present since as long as I can remember. The neckline was low, but not as low as many ladies wore...after all, I had my dignity in mind and virtue to keep. My hair let loose with curls cascading down my back, a single braid serving as a mock crown, beads and violets bred in the royal garden decorating it. Light make up to keep up the pretense, but an intense, burgundy red lipstick for effect. Feet in white flats, shimmering as my dress in the light, I looked almost like a highborn, worthy to be in their presence.

Gliding my gaze over the crowd of town folk, my eyes remained on the table before us, a little above the rest to show their stature. After all, they weren't commoners and should not sit among us. Most looked to the King and Queen, wanting to get in their favor. Young men looked at Cameron, all wishing to be her chosen one. However, she was to be married off to a wealthy Lord in Europe, a union good for the realm.

But every girl, young or old, had eyes only for the princes. Twins as luck would have it. Girls swooned over their good looks, fought to be in their line of sight, even went as far as pulling their dresses down so much that their breasts were almost visible. All that just for one look in their direction. They didn't care which one, as they'd say: „They're the same anyways. Just get me one.“

How foolish of them.

When I looked at the twins, I did not see just one person. Sitting on the left side, by their father, both brothers seemed to be far more interested in holding a conversation with one another than to look at desperate girls flinging themselves at their feet.

Prince Grayson held his head high as he was happily betrothed to a Princess of a country a little down south called England. After all, they sang songs of her beauty, but more importantly of the power and wealth her family held. He didn't spare the crowd a single glance, his dark brown eyes set either on the food or his family. His hair was longer, bangs styled backwards so they stood tall as he did. Sharp jaw, a couple of small scars graced his face, but he bore nothing that could disgrace his beauty. He truly was as handsome as I've heard in the tales.

Next to him was Prince Ethan; the next king of our realm, the heir to the throne. His eyes bore tension only a future king could bear, thousands worries etched in each line of his gorgeous face. His smile small, but always present, never quite reaching his eyes when he interacted with other noble men and women. It was a pleasantry, one he didn't care much for from what I could tell. His hair was neatly combed, differing from what I've been told by those who have seen him outside of official events for the kingdom. They said his hair is unruly and wild, just as his spirit. Perhaps that was true once, but the man sat at the table now felt weighed down by the future he was to have. That's enough to make anyone mature in a matter of moments.

Like his brother, Ethan was also to wed a Princess, the heir of the French throne. That meant either peace or war for the Dolan twins, regarding the wretched past between the two countries they were meant to inherit by marriage. It was hard to imagine the brothers ever doing harm to one another, but power is fickle and turns the best of men corrupt and wile.

Aware this night would be a bust as everyone danced and had fun, I couldn't keep my eyes from the heir. Not just because of his good looks, but because in a way, I felt sorry for him. He was forced to live a life he never wanted; they told him what to wear, what to eat, how to behave...who to love...He could never truly make a choice for himself, follow his heart. To live that sort of a life must have been torture...One he learned to accept and live with.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed a ruckus. Two armed guards unsheathing their swords as several men decided to play hero and assassinate the royal family. Some screamed, most ran, leaving the sight clear for all those who wondered what was happening.

I didn't move, even as the fight was brought to me. Men fighting, men dying before me, yet I dare not move. No, I was not afraid. I was furious. Once in every ten years, commoners were allowed at court, yet these imbeciles decided to ruin that and get us banned...and for what? A failed attempt to kill those who have ruled over us and brought prosperity even in the winter we were forced to live in. Better yet, I was ready to protect those people as well.

Reaching under my skirts, I grabbed a dagger from a belt suspender made out of purple lace. Shifting in my spot, I had seen a sword fall to the floor with a loud clank. Taking it, I ran it into one of the rebels stomach, blood spluttering from his lips onto my neck. But I didn't mind. Turning swiftly, I took care of yet one more who had planned on sneaking behind a guard and slitting his throat. Two men down, my hands dripping with blood, dress stained beyond help, I stood in the middle of the room, chest heaving as my heart beat to a rhythm I've long forgotten.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins, hands gripped on my choice weapons tightly. I didn't need to look up to see that every eye in the room was on me, watching intently what I'll do next. Some probably hoped I'd carry on the attack myself, others just wanted the whole thing to end.

Sucking in a deep breath, I slowly lift my eyes off the ground and dare to make eye contact with none other than Prince Ethan himself. The surprise mixed with utmost wonder in his eyes had taken the very breath from my lungs.

Tearing my eyes from his, I look to the King, hoping I'd be allowed to keep my head after the little stunt I pulled. But the rebels got too close and I was not one for waiting. It's not how my father taught me.

Holding my head high, I released the sword from my right hand, but the dagger remained in place. Taking a handful of the fabric my dress was comprised of, I wiped it clean. Slowly, moving the dress all the way up to my upper thigh, I sheathed the dagger in its place, letting the dress fall down to the stone floor.

Unexpectedly, the King brought his hands together, clapping loudly as he stood up with a large grin on his face. The entire room followed, but I only cared for what his son did. Shifting my gaze to Ethan once more, I saw his eyes didn't lose the impressed, almost admiring look he showed previously. I had his attention, that much was sure.

„On the behalf of the royal family, I'd like to express my gratitude.“ The King spoke, loud and clear for everyone to hear while I stayed put in my spot, feeling the blood on my neck and chest like drops of fire burning through my skin.

„I was just doing my duty, Your Grace.“ I spoke, my voice void of all emotion; cold and calm as I seemed on the outside.

„Oh, but you did so much more. Where did you learn to fight like that?“ The King asked, very much interested and entertained, like the entire thing was just a show in a theater.

„My father was a knight in your guard. He failed to see the difference between teaching his sons and teaching his daughters. After all, we were all his children.“ I respond, my heart breaking as I remember my father. He was brave and thoughtful, selfless and loyal. A man ahead of his time, that's for sure. Since the first day, he had treated me as an equal to my brothers, teaching me to write, read, fight. He wanted me to be able to protect myself, come what may.

„Oh, which one is that?“ The King furrowed his brows, wondering who I belonged to.

„Ser (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). He died in the war fighting alongside you.“ I felt my cool dissolve, but refused to let it be seen by the gathered crowd. No one seemed to care that there were at least eight dead men bleeding on the stony ground they stood on.

„I remember him! He saved my life!“ The King exclaimed, recognition flashing in his eyes.

„Just as you did now!“ He adds, turning to his wife. Looking back at me, he propped his head up on his hand, head tilted slightly to the right.

„You may ask anything you wish of me. Anything...If it's within my power, I shall grant it.“

The offer certainly allured me, even brought upon me something I never thought I'd want. A wish for stature and a position of power.

„I wish to be a lady of the court. Your ward to be exact.“ A series of loud gasps filled the room as I kept a stoic facial expression, not breaking the eye contact with the king...no matter how much I wanted to look to Prince Ethan for his opinion.

The King didn't show any emotion at all, nor offer any insight in his mind through his facial expression upon hearing my words.

„Only that?“ He questioned, almost disappointed with my answer.

I chuckle dryly, averting my gaze to the right before focusing it on the King once more. Clasping my hands together, resting them on my stomach, I respond.

„What? You expected me to ask for your son's hand in marriage?“ The room was still with words I spoke, but I couldn't hold back a giggle. A giggle that echoed the room as no one dared to move.

„I may be a woman, but I'm not a silly girl with silly notions. You'd never grant something like that. I'd have asked to be a knight in the future king's guard, but even that is beyond what I'd be given. So, yes. I wish to be made a ward of the court, a noble lady.“ I finish, hardening my gaze as the King nodded with pursed lips.

I felt another pair of eyes burning into me as I stood before them all. The ferocity of just one look causing a flutter in my chest. There was no need to search for who the eyes belonged to as I could tell Ethan had kept his gaze strictly on me since the whole ordeal happened. And I liked it.

„Granted.“The King nodded in thought, perhaps debating my so called silly notions.

With those words, I was made a noble. One who would never be allowed to forget she's a commoner, but a noble nonetheless.

„May a servant clean you up...and this floor. You can borrow a dress from Cameron and return to the feast. A seat will be made for you.“ The King spoke, several servants running up to me, ushering me out of the room and to the west wing of the castle where the royal sleeping chambers were.

It took us a couple of minutes of almost running to get to a room lit by candles. It was huge...as big as the house I live in. But inside, everything was made out of wood...carved to perfection.

The girls started to undress me, startling me.

„Whoa, whoa. What are you doing?“ I asked, eyes wide and lips parted in shock.

„Cleaning you up as the King requested.“ One spoke up, not meeting my eyes.

I sighed, not wanting the girls to fear me. After all, I was one of them just moments ago.

„Can you get the blood out of my own dress?“ I turned so they'd have an easier access to the back of my dress, feeling their fingers already undoing the knot I tied to keep it from opening.

„I can certainly try, my lady.“ The same girl spoke, her voice quiet and words carefully chosen.

„You don't have to call me that. Not when we're alone.“ I smile as another one wipes the blood from my chest, the third one dealing with my hands. They were quick and efficient, already showing me dresses to pick from. I went with a red one this time around, not really caring how I look anymore.

They laced it up and stood around, staring in awe. I didn't have to look down to know my cleavage was exposed more than before, the light, cold breeze had told me that in an instant.

„You look stunning.“ They said in unison as I blushed with the compliment.

„But we must go.“ With that, I was rushed back to the crowd, earning yet another clap as I entered. I had hoped it would go unnoticed, but everyone seemed eager to welcome me. Smiling softly, I stood aside and waited for the crowd to disperse. I wasn't interested in taking the seat so kindly set between the Princes and the Princess just yet, wanting to experience tonight to the best of my ability.

The room was spotless, no blood in sight. Music played a happy tune many townies loved, but it suddenly shifted into one only royals could dance to. The King and Queen stood from their seat, taking the dance floor. Others joined them, but dancing was never my best suit. However, this was more about me not having someone to dance with.

„Would you care to dance?“ Someone spoke and I turned swiftly, frightened by the sudden presence. My mind stopped as I looked to the stranger, only to find it was actually a prince.

„Prince Ethan!“ I yelped, curtsying to the best of my ability. I didn't even finish my attempt before his hands held onto my elbows, pulling me up to face him.

„No need for that, Lady Y/N.“ His voice, deep and low, sent shivers down my spine like I have never felt before.

„You're a prince after all. It's common curtsy.“ I defended my actions, blushing furiously under his relentless gaze. There was kindness in his eyes, but the mischievous glint seemed to outshine everything else.

„And you're a lady now. You bow only to the king.“ Ethan reminded me, his hands still on my arms, slowly trailing down to my own hands. Gently taking them in his, he lifts my right one to his lips, pressing them into the skin on the back of it, never once breaking eye contact. I gulped nervously.

Why must he be so intense all the time?

„So, you never answered my previous question. Would you care to dance?“ He repeated, not letting go of either of my hands and I was grateful for not shaking like a leaf in the wind under his touch.

„I'm more of a fighter than a dancer, really.“ I mussed, shyly averting my gaze to the floor.

A touch of his index finger on my chin and the cold sensation in my hand as he released it brought my attention back to the handsome man before me.

„I'll lead.“ He guided me into the dancing crowd, his hand on the small of my back as my heart thumped so loudly I was certain everyone could hear. Once in the center of the room, his palm pressed against my waist, while the other held my hand in the air. He moved impossibly close, the wine on his breath easily felt from our proximity. With one hand, he lifts me up and rests my feet atop of his, a smirk on his lips as I look down with a thousand questions in my mind. Moving his feet and both of us in that moment, his grip on me tight, yet gentle, we danced like one. I'd never been a good dancer, but for the first time in my life I was doing just that...dancing.

One song after another, the Prince refused to let me go, dancing with no other and arousing suspicion in the court. He ensnared me with his gaze, whispered compliments in my ear and I had become sure this was nothing but a dream. How else could this be possible?

His words rang in my ears, each bringing a warmth to my heart and a smile to my face.

„You're one of a kind.“ He'd whisper, getting only a roll of my Y/E/C eyes in return.

„And you're just a charmer.“ I'd retort, raising an eyebrow to his fake shock.

„No, just an honest prince. After all, I'm not the one who lied about his dancing skills.“ He teased, arching an eyebrow as well. God, how sexy he looked when he did that!

„You're the one dancing! I'm just holding on for dear life.“ I chuckle, raking my nails over the exposed skin on the back of his neck to remind him of that.

He rolled his eyes, nodding lightly before letting me go. I had thought it was the end of it, but he captured my hand in his, pulling me out of the room as the King ended the dinner just as we walked out.

„What are you doing?“ I turned around, starting to worry of his rush and firm hold on my hand.

Just as I asked, Ethan pushed me against the wall, each of his hands resting by my head, his forehead leaned on mine as he breaths heavily. I was captured, unable to move.

„Prince?“ My voice was quiet, perhaps the fear inside ever tangible. I could not fend for myself and risk hurting the Crown Prince, but I wasn't about to let him defile me.

„I hate my life.“ He spoke, surprising me with this admission. I wanted to move, caress his face or run my fingers through his hair, but I couldn't. I was paralyzed.

„I must marry another, yet I had fallen for you.“ His voice trembled, no longer a picture of confidence he wore the entire night. I suppressed my need to speak as he was breaking before me.

„What have I done to be punished so?“ He kept talking and my resolution to remain quiet disappeared.

„You aren't in love with me. You barely know me.“ I spoke up, reminding him we had just met and only spoken once. I wasn't a firm believer in love at first sight, even if my own father claimed to have fallen for my mother in such a way.

„You are brave and feisty, capable of handling several weapons. You have a mind as sharp as a diamond, tongue as sharp as the blade you wield. The smile you flash is always sincere, your touch brings warmth to my cold heart. I do love you.“ Ethan moved his forehead, boring his eyes into mine. It was heartbreaking to see the defeat in his eyes, my own reflection clear within as the candle lit up his hazel hues.

Hm...I always thought his eyes were brown.

„You are betrothed to the next Queen of France. You are to marry a country, not a woman. Someone with power and wealth and armies.“ I spoke, sneaking my arms around his neck for a small embrace. I needed to console him in some way.

„I'm a no one. No family, no power, no armies or wealth. Just a commoner.“ I spoke sadly, feeling my own heart ache even if I wasn't in love with the Prince. I could see how easy that would be... to fall for a man such as him. But I knew better. That's how people died.

„You're not a no one to me. You're a Lady...the King's ward.“ He trailed off.

„Queen of my heart.“ His words had left me breathless, yet my heart was beating wildly, moving my chest with every beat.

„I must ask you to take that back.“ I whisper, looking into his eyes but getting no answer.

„A future king should never go back on his word.“ He spoke with a broken smile, his left hand moving down to my waist, his lips nearing mine.

„And a maiden should never sell her honor for a couple of moments of passion.“ I move, using the now empty space as leverage.

„I'd never do that to you.“ Ethan spoke as I turned my back on him, confused about this turn of event. Mere hours ago, I was just a faceless girl in the crowd and now I had a Prince chasing after me.

„Perhaps...but your words speak of a much worse desire...Love is not something I take lightly.“ I respond, turning slightly to see his candlelit face.

It was almost cruel how handsome he was...unnaturally handsome.

„Neither do I.“ He stepped closer and I feel my entire body tense up with this gesture.

„Yet you speak its name in vain in a badly lit hallway to a woman you met only hours ago...while you're set to marry another when the time is right.“ I cock my eyebrow, folding my arms across my chest and straighten my back.

„Betrothed to another....that is true...But those arrangement fall through all the time. For all I know I could be betrothed to someone entirely different by tomorrow.“ Ethan let out a mirthless laugh, taking one step closer to me.

„Your father would have my head.“ I press my lips together as he nods.

„My father won't always be the king. Once I'm on the throne, nothing stops me from marrying who I want.“ Ethan points out, closing the distance between us quickly.

„Nothing but your word...“ I look away, feeling a weight on my chest...one I could not explain.

„True.“ Ethan whispers, leaning close, his lips brushing against my ear.

„But it was the word of my father, not mine, that closed the deal.“ Ethan moved back, his nose touching mine as his breath mingled with mine.

Close enough to touch, but miles away. That's how I felt. My own beating heart breaking over a love I denied myself, but deny it I must.

Reluctantly, I step back and out of his reach. The disappointment evident on his face, but understanding in his eyes.

Flashing a smile my way, he motions for me to look behind and I do, seeing a large door.

„It was an honor to accompany you to your room, Lady Y/N. Goodnight.“ He turned on his heel, walking away, but not before throwing a glance over his shoulder my way.

„Goodnight, Prince Ethan.“ I whisper softly, watching his retreating figure disappear around the corner, his footsteps still audible in the distance.

Tags: @perry--aesthetic​ @heeydolan​ @accalialionheart​ @peacedolantwins

A/N: So, what do you think? Should I make a series? Let me know, you know I love feedback :)

[rambles-n-tumbles]

The Crown Prince (7)

Characters: Kim Namjoon, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary:  With so much happening, Jungkook returns home in hopes of receiving some support.

A/N: im neck deep in work and i still managed to bust this out. bless this au.

part six is here. part one is here. this is an ongoing series.

read on ao3 here.

It was late when Jungkook returned home, the carriage creaking beside the safe house as his feet hit the dirt road.

Hoseok had asked him if he was certain about returning home alone, but he had insisted he was more than capable of finding his way. There wasn’t much left to see in town after a certain hour, residential ladies taking their business further out as most hid in their homes for the night.

Now, walking in the darkness, he wasn't sure if it was the smartest idea as he was left to his thoughts. Nevertheless, he walked himself back to the Parks residence, hoping the cool nighttime air would ease his nerves.

“Your brother, your real brother, is the King.” He scratched his head, brown locks of hair ruffling in the moonlight as he let his footsteps drown out in the silence.

“They found you.” He groaned, kicking a stray pebble that sat on the side of the road. He watched it jump, bouncing before falling into the taller grass roadside.

“We aren’t here to hurt you, Your Highness. We just have to bring you back to where you belong." He spotted a larger stone, oddly shaped with stripes running from left to right.

“And if I don’t go?” He stepped closer, his feet hitting the ground harder as he picked up momentum.

“We cannot promise your safety, nor the safety of anyone living nearby.” He let his leg swing back a bit further, stepping close as he aimed with his left foot directly beside the stone.

“And especially not of the Parks.”

He groaned slightly as his foot made contact with the stone, flinging it past some trees as he heard it thump against something in the darkness. He huffed, feeling his heart accelerate as footsteps reached his ears.

“You’re going to hurt yourself kicking rocks, Your Highness.” He sighed, letting his shoulders roll forward as he turned to glance over his shoulder.

“I thought I told you I would be fine alone.” Namjoon shrugged, hands tucked into what looked like much more comfortable pants than a knight would normally wear. Sleepwear, he assumed, considering he left as they were preparing for bed.

“You’re not supposed to be fine, you’re supposed to be perfect. Considering your standing and all, Your Highness.” He grumbled slightly, watching the man sigh before stepping closer. “Right, I promised to address you differently when alone. Jungkook, right?”

“Please.” He chuckled, watching the dimples appear in Namjoon’s cheeks in the moonlight. “I don’t even want to be royalty, much less spoken to like one.”

“Sorry to hear that, I think the royal life is rather nice. You know, aside from the entire rebellion outbreak.” He let out a breathy laugh, tension dissipating as he stepped closer. “You know we don’t mean you any harm, right?”

“Yeah, yeah I know that.” Jungkook let his shoulders roll slightly, his eyes doing the same as the man beside him chuckled. “It's not your fault I was hidden from a life I never got to know.”

“No, but it is our fault you’re being drawn back into it.” He shook his head, a smile gracing his features as Namjoon swore the moonlight was casting galaxies into his wide eyes. Who has eyes that wide?

“Not really. You’re just doing your job, right?” A nod and Jungkook turned, stepping over more pebbles as he continued down the path.

“What will you tell them? You know they’ll question you once you get back.” He hadn’t thought so far ahead, mainly focusing on just getting through the woods and out of the breezy night. When he voiced this, he received a disapproving sigh.

“Can’t I tell them the truth? That you want me to return for my own safety?”

“Well sure, but they’ll insist they are already keeping you safe.” He felt his head tilt slightly at the taller man’s words, a look of humor glazing his features. “You really think they’ll let you just walk out of that house?”

“I don’t see why not.” Namjoon shrugged, chuckling loudly as he stepped back, eyes locked on Jungkook’s the entire time.

“Alright, well, when you’re ready to leave, you know where to find us.” He spun on his heel, hands digging into his pockets when Jungkook’s voice cut through to him.

“Thank you, Namjoon.” He spun, meeting a grinning brunette. “I didn’t know the truth of all this, and now, I feel like you gave me a part of my parent’s back. Thank you.”

“Of course, Jungkook.” He bowed slightly, grinning at the younger males groans before watching him turn and continue down the beaten path. He could feel his cheeks burn slightly, and would insist to Hoseok that it was due to the cold, but they both knew it had less to do with the piercing breeze and more to do with the grinning prince.

“Jungkook! Where have you been, it’s the middle of the night!” His mother wrapped her hands around him the moment he walked through the doors, servants rushing to bring him warm drinks and blankets though it wasn’t nearly as cold as they presumed.

“I was just wandering the town, can’t I do that sometimes?” His mother scoffed, though his father’s gaze pierced right through his words.

“And the Knights? What happened to them?” Jimin was standing close by, slightly out of sight as he watched their father speak. He could see the look of curiosity barely hidden in his younger brother’s eyes, and he knew his eyes must be identical in this moment.

“Nothing, they left. I spent the day in town, didn’t I just-”

“You couldn’t have been wandering all day in town and not had a single person see you, Jungkook!” His voice boomed, Jimin jumping as Jungkook stiffened in his mother’s grasp. She shook slightly but nodded.

“Your father is right, what were you doing this late?” Jungkook turned to her, guilt dripping into him as he spoke gently.

“I was just wandering around. With everything that happened earlier, I just wanted some silence for my birthday. Is that so bad?” Jimin knew he was lying through his teeth, even if his parents fell for the wide-eyed excuse Jungkook fed them. He watched them apologize, bidding him goodnight before letting him retreat to his chambers. He let his parents walk out of the room, servants moving around as they cleaned up after them missing Jimin’s footsteps as he ducked into the halls.

“Kookie, it’s me. Open up.” He could hear his brother footsteps behind the door, coming to a stop right behind it. “JK, it’s just-”

“Are you alone?” Jimin bit back a ‘that’s what I just said’ and grumbled back a low, “Yes.”

“Sorry, I’m just making sure.” The door creaked open, Jungkook tugging his brother inside before shutting it once more.

“What’s going on, where did you go?” Jungkook slid past him, moving towards his bedroom window. “What are you doing?”

“Come here, I don’t want anyone to hear us. We gotta go.” Jimin was certain his brother had lost it as he helped him pry open the window, climbing out after him as they crouched into the gardens.

“Okay, you wanna tell me why we have to hide out here in order to talk?” Jungkook sighed, adjusting himself on a tree branch as he watched Jimin do the same.

“You’re not gonna believe me but I’ll tell you anyway.”

“Jungkook, why would I not believe you?” He shrugged, but Jimin stopped himself from laughing as he watched him turn stern.

“I’m a Prince.”

“Well aware.” Jungkook almost flipped off of the tree, glaring at his brother. “What? Is that it?”

“No, no, they’re here to take me back-”

“-Because of rebel forces trying to take the crown, yeah I know, I got my news from the servants.” Jungkook groaned, leaning back as Jimin chuckled. “Is that really all you learned from being gone for one day? Wow, I learned that in five minutes.”

“Okay, fine. If you know so much, then what should I do?” At that, Jimin was silent. He knew the risks involved, and could only imagine what kind of wrath would befall them if they refused to hand him over to the King.

“I mean, I would assume you go, but,” They nodded, a look of acknowledgment crossing them silently. “You would have to leave us.”

“Mom and Dad, yes.” Jungkook fidgeted with his shirt, finding a loose string hanging off. “You would come with me.”

“What?!” Jungkook threw his hands over his brother’s mouth, hushing him as the leaves rustled around them.

“Well, I can’t just go lead a country or whatever on my own! I have to take someone with me!” He was certain his brother’s eyes would fall out from how wide they were, but the thought didn’t humor Jungkook in the slightest. “I can’t go without you.”

Jimin slapped his hands off his mouth, brushing himself off as he leaned back against the tree trunk. His mind ran a mile a second, worried and nervous and scared of what was about to happen in their lives. But he knew, even glancing at Jungkook’s terrified gaze, that he was going to have to be there for it all.

“Yeah, okay.” He sighed as the moonlight shone off of his brother’s big white teeth. “Let’s go meet the King.”

The two made their descent from their hiding place, walking through the gardens back to their bedroom when they heard voices nearby.

“Get down!” His whisper was harsh as Jimin tugged Jungkook down beside him, tucking themselves into the shrubs as footsteps passed them by.

“We can’t have those knights nearby, do you understand?” They locked gazes, both brothers terrified as the voice of servants rang through the air.

“And how are we to get rid of them?” Jungkook held his breath, the image of the dimpled men he saw earlier flashing in his mind.

“It’s simple, we just tell the men who know how to get rid of people.” Jimin’s eyes widened, his breath hitching as he saw his brother mouth the words that were on the tip of his tongue.

Rebels.

[danithebookaholic-blog]

ARC REVIEW! - Royal Rogue

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Royal Rogue

By Jessica Peterson

Publication Date: July 12, 2018 Genre: Royal Romance, Contemporary Romance

Synopsis:

Dear Jane, You’re a princess. I’m a thief. This isn’t a Disney movie. We never had a chance in hell of a happy ending. But I still wish I could have given you one. When we met, I had you pegged as a snob. All polo and private jets. But you turned out to be the exact opposite. I fell for you the first day we met. I lied to you about a lot of things. I don’t expect or deserve your forgiveness. You’re too good for me. But I was always honest about my feelings for you. I hope you’ll find true happiness one day. That’s the only way I’ll ever be happy—knowing you’re okay. I’m sorry— Charlie PS—don’t let your blackjack game go to crap. Practice it every day, all right? A STANDALONE Royal Romance!

Goodreads

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Purchase:

Amazon US  / Amazon UK / Amazon CA / Amazon AU

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Also Available:

Royal Ruin (Book #1)

Amazon US / Amazon UK / Amazon CA / Amazon AU

FREE in Kindle Unlimited

Royal Rebel (Book #2)

Amazon US / Amazon UK / Amazon CA / Amazon AU

FREE in Kindle Unlimited

Author Bio:

Jessica Peterson began reading romance to escape the decidedly unromantic awkwardness of her teenage years. Having found solace in the likes of Mr. Darcy, Jamie Fraser (OMG love the gingers!), and Edward Cullen, it wasn’t long before she began creating tall, dark and handsome heroes of her own.  She lives in Charlotte, North Carolina with her husband, Mr. Peterson, and her smelly Goldendoodle Martha Bean.

Website / Facebook / Facebook Group / Instagram

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Review & Wrap-Up:

Here I am, yet again reading another romance! What has gotten into me?! I know you're thinking for someone who doesn't enjoy romance novels, you sure have been reviewing a lot of them! And I have! But yet again, Royal Rogue surprised me! While it was very hot and heavy, there was still a great story to keep me interested. Here's my take on the whole thing:

Five words to describe Royal Rogue: WOW!, steamy, hot, lewd, and heartbreaking.

Royal Rogue hits you hard rather early with hot and steamy, and somewhat lewd, sex scenes. Considering Charlie and Princess Jane meet for the first time in chapter three, followed by a really hot make-out scene in chapter 10, and are rolling around in bed by chapter 13, I find that rather fast, but that could also just be my conservative view on things, I'll admit I can be a little prudish on things. But on top of that, it's not your normal romance novel sex scene either. I mean compared to some of the things that happened in E.L. James' Fifty Shades trilogy, Royal Rogue looks like child's play, but it was still more than I expected for the first go round!

Sex to the side, I enjoyed the story. I found the concept of a con man dating a princess as interesting and fun. To see how they connect over some of the most random of things, things that you would think would fit one, but not the other, was fun in and of itself. The concept of them possibly ending up together once Jane finds out that Charlie was a con man I found to be ridiculous, but that's my real world view on things and I guess I'm not as optimistic as Charlie. (But then again, never did I ever think an American would marry the Prince of England! Had I known, I would have been chillin' by the palace every day! Way to go, Meghan!)

I actually teared up when Charlie is found out. The love is there, and I could picture those screaming blue eyes as he poured his heart out in explanation. And if Jane's heart didn't break for him, mine did. But my heart also broke for her. I know what its like to be hurt and broken so bad that your world crumbles to pieces around you, and here Jane is going through it a second time. She is one brave and strong woman!

I enjoyed Royal Rogue so much that I purchased the first two books in the series as well. Book one, Royal Ruin, is about Kit, Jane's brother and future King of England, and book two, Royal Rebel, is about Jane's brother Rob, the Playboy Prince. So I do hope that Jessica Peterson has plans to finish the series with a fourth book about Jack, Rob's twin brother, and his hot body guard (which she alluded to in Royal Rogue). Don't forget, you can purchase all three by clicking the links above!

 From one bookaholic to another, I hope I’ve helped you find your next fix. —Dani

Dani's Score out of 5: 📚���📚📚

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Love this book? Check out Saving Grace by Vi Carter

Grace knows that the only way she can survive life, is to bury her past. But nothing stays buried forever... It’s been two years since she lost so much. Two years since she started a new life, in a new college, with a new group of friends. Two years, and now her troubles are rushing back. When Derek walks into Grace’s life, he makes her feel things she’d hoped never to feel again. The box she hid all her secrets in is opening, and Grace might not be able to keep it shut this time. As each of her traumas resurfaces, Grace isn’t sure having Derek at her side is enough to save her. And if he’s not, Grace isn’t sure she’ll come out the other side fully intact.

*** You can read my review for Saving Grace here. ***

Pair it with: Nitty Gritty Cabernet Sauvignon

Flavors of dark berries, plum, mocha and vanilla.

Pair with slow-braised venison or grilled steak.

Buy a bottle (or two or three) here.

Start a conversation: How would you react if the person you loved betrayed you?

Have a book you’d like to suggest or one you’d like me to review? Please feel free to leave your comments down below.

[joyffree]

RELEASE BLITZ 👑 Royal Rebel by @JessicaPAuthor @givemebooksblog Series: Flings with Kings #2 Genre: Royal Romance/Contemporary Romance Release Date: March 29, 2018

BLURB

Royal. Recklessly Rebellious. Totally Delicious.

SUBJECT: I’m sorry (Marked Confidential) Sat 21 May 02:48 A.M.

From the Desk of His Royal Highness Prince Robert

Aly—can’t stop thinking about tonight. Never thought enemies like us would end up naked together. Again. Know you think I’m cocky, but come on, sweetheart…don’t tell me it’s not the best sex you’ve ever had.

I’m not a good man. But for the first time, I wish I were. Maybe then I’d deserve you. I don’t. Not when I come from a family like mine. All these secrets…

You’re gorgeous. Clever. You call me out on my bullshit, and I bloody adore it.

I adore you, sweetheart.

You have your new bloke. And I’m…me. The playboy prince. We’re not meant to be together. But staying away from you is killing me, Aly. Thinking about him touching you is killing me.

I’ve no right to talk to you like this. Im sorry. It’s the whiskey talking. This is what you do to me.

Rob

P.S.—I can’t send this. But I am thinking of you.

GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/38205107-royal-rebel

PURCHASE LINKS – 99c for release week only!

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AUTHOR BIO

Jessica Peterson began reading romance to escape the decidedly unromantic awkwardness of her teenage years. Having found solace in the likes of Mr. Darcy, Jamie Fraser (OMG love the gingers!), and Edward Cullen, it wasn’t long before she began creating tall, dark and handsome heroes of her own.

She lives in Charlotte, North Carolina with her husband, Mr. Peterson, and her smelly Goldendoodle Martha Bean. She is the author of the super sexy STUDY ABROAD and FLINGS WITH KINGS series. Check her out at www.jessicapeterson.com

AUTHOR LINKS

Website: http://www.jessicapeterson.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jessicapetersonauthor Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/PetersonsPupils Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/JessicaPAuthor

[danisbookreviews4]

RELEASE BLITZ- Royal Rebel by Jessica Peterson

RELEASE BLITZ- Royal Rebel by Jessica Peterson

Title: Royal Rebel Series: Flings with Kings #2 Author: Jessica Peterson Genre: Royal Romance/Contemporary Romance Release Date: March 29, 2018 Blurb Royal. Recklessly Rebellious. Totally Delicious. SUBJECT: I’m sorry (Marked Confidential) Sat 21 May 02:48 A.M. From the Desk of His Royal Highness Prince Robert Aly—can’t stop thinking about tonight. Never thought enemies like us would end up naked…

[cloemarrie]

RELEASE BLITZ - Royal Rebel by Jessica Peterson

RELEASE BLITZ – Royal Rebel by Jessica Peterson

Title: Royal Rebel Series: Flings with Kings #2 Author: Jessica Peterson Genre: Royal Romance/Contemporary Romance Release Date: March 29, 2018 Blurb

Royal. Recklessly Rebellious. Totally Delicious. SUBJECT: I’m sorry (Marked Confidential) Sat 21 May 02:48 A.M. From the Desk of His Royal Highness Prince Robert Aly—can’t stop thinking about tonight. Never thought enemies like us would…

[cloemichaelsreads-blog]

RELEASE BLITZ - Royal Rebel by Jessica Peterson

RELEASE BLITZ – Royal Rebel by Jessica Peterson

Title: Royal Rebel Series: Flings with Kings #2 Author: Jessica Peterson Genre: Royal Romance/Contemporary Romance Release Date: March 29, 2018 Blurb

Royal. Recklessly Rebellious. Totally Delicious. SUBJECT: I’m sorry (Marked Confidential) Sat 21 May 02:48 A.M. From the Desk of His Royal Highness Prince Robert Aly—can’t stop thinking about tonight. Never thought enemies like us would…

[christinaepilzauthor-blog]

All you thought you knew about the Wars of the Roses, but didn't… Episode One: Henry VI: the mad king?

by Derek Birks A few weeks ago, I had a bit of a rant on Facebook about the common myths which persist about many aspects of the Wars of the Roses period. I vowed to do something about it, so to start with, I'm looking at Henry VI himself.

There are two commonly held beliefs about Henry VI: either he was a simpleton or he was mad – not a great choice really… and of course, neither charge is actually supported by the evidence.

Myth #1: Henry VI was a simpleton; he was just plain stupid.

Like most myths of history, this claim is so often repeated that it seems to be regarded by many as truth, despite the fact that there's no real evidence of it at all.

Henry was not a fool. There is enough evidence, however, to suggest that he was naïve.

For example, he put far too much trust in several of the powerful and ambitious men around him at court – men like Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset. But let's bear in mind that Henry spent the whole of his long royal minority surrounded by noble advisers. He had grown up accepting advice and the habit, for a young man who was not particularly assertive, was probably quite difficult to break.

Was Somerset, or his rival for influence at court, Richard, Duke of York, especially greedy or corrupt? No, not really by the standards of the time, but they did have their own personal agendas – along with every other nobleman, lord or gentleman in the land!

A strong-willed king, who understood such men, might have managed them rather better.

Henry was undoubtedly a poor manager of men.

Henry VI [courtesy of wikipedia]

Henry was more concerned with spiritual matters than political ones – but that doesn't make him a fool. His piety and his concern for men's souls is somehow easily dismissed in our very secular age, but such matters were very important to all in the later middle ages and certainly not a sign of folly.

Is it so hard to believe that Henry was simply a peace loving man in an age that valued more martial virtues? 

Their king was so different from his warlike father, Henry V, that his subjects felt undermined and confused by his approach. He wanted to bring to an end the long French wars with a peace agreement. In that respect, he was out of step with the majority of his subjects for whom a successful conclusion of the war meant a military victory. Jack Cade's Rebellion in 1450 showed the anger and distrust stirred up by Henry's government but the rebel targets were his councillors not the king himself.

Judge him by what he did: for example, Henry wrote a letter to the French king suggesting peace and offering him some English-held lands in France. That was certainly unwise since such lands were currently held by Henry's own subjects. Giving them up was not likely to be popular. So he was naïve, but – and here's why he was no fool – he kept the letter secret. 

Why? Because he understood how alarmed his leading subjects would be if they knew about his offer. If he understood that, then he had more about him than your average simpleton.

Naïve then maybe, but not an idiot.

Myth #2: Henry VI was 'mad'.

Now madness is a very general term and the public perception of madness is therefore quite broad and vague. Consequently, using the word at all is unhelpful in trying to describe or understand anyone.

So what basis is there for this claim? There's no question that from 1453 – a year traumatic enough for the average king - Henry VI succumbed to bouts of mental illness. Schizophrenia has been suggested – amongst other diagnoses. The first of these rendered him incapable of speech or recognition of those around him.

This was not a 'mad' king flinging out commands such as "Off with his head!" or something! It was simply as if the throne was vacant.

This first occurrence was the most significant because no-one was prepared for it and it led to the emergence of the Duke of York as the de-facto political leader of the country. In 1453 York saw himself as rightly restored to a position of great influence. But even York's closest supporters only ever saw him as a caretaker – whether for the ailing King Henry, or for his very young son, Edward, when he ultimately came of age.

When the King recovered his capacity in December 1454, York's role as protector was once more unnecessary and his supremacy at court waned. This was not a result of 'madness' on the king's part but further evidence of his inability to manage political factions. Thus it resulted in the victory of one faction – that of the Duke of Somerset – over another. 

In the turbulent years which followed, it suited the Yorkists to blacken Henry's name by emphasising his incapacity to rule: either by promoting the idea of his stupidity or his madness. Either of these slurs might help to undermine public confidence.

Yet, even after the Yorkists had taken up arms against the king and seized the throne in 1461, most of the nobility still sided with Henry VI, their anointed king. A king who inspired such loyalty had clearly earned a great deal of support from many of those closest to him. If he had truly been an imbecile or a mad man, I cannot believe he would have retained such genuine goodwill.

Two key elements of Henry VI's kingship were:

1.      he was unable to control his leading subjects

2.      he aspired to resolve problems by peaceful means.

These two factors combined to make him an ineffectual king but neither of these factors made him mad or stupid. It's high time we stopped perpetuating these myths.

............................... Derek was born in Hampshire in England but spent his teenage years in Auckland, New Zealand, where he still has strong family ties. For many years he taught history in a secondary school but took early retirement to concentrate on writing. Apart from his writing, he spends his time gardening, travelling, walking and taking part in archaeological digs at a Roman villa. Derek is interested in a wide range of historical themes but his particular favourite is the late medieval period. He writes action-packed fiction which is rooted in accurate history. His debut historical novel was Feud, which is set in the period of the Wars of the Roses. Feud is the first of a now complete four-book series, entitled Rebels & Brothers, which follows the fortunes of the fictional Elder family from 1459 to 1471. A new series, The Craft of Kings, picks up the story of the Elders in 1481 in its first book, Scars From The Past. Later this year, the violent events of 1483 are played out in the sequel, The Blood of Princes.

Website: www.derekbirks.com Twitter: https://twitter.com/Feud_writer Amazon author sites: amazon.co.uk; amazon.com

Hat Tip To: English Historical Fiction Authors