Sinfully Sexy Alphas Box Set(25)

"Burnt?"

Geoffrey's voice sounded faint. He had not known what purpose the King had in bringing her here.

He had not known.

Isabel felt the room sway as the King threw up his hands. He meant to  burn her. To burn her alive. Fear blossomed in her heart. Fear and  betrayal.

"Take her below!"

Guards appeared on either side of her, clasping her wrists in irons. The  metal bit into her flesh cruelly as they dragged her away. Towards the  dungeons most likely. She was too numb to care much about her  destination truth be told.

She turned to see Geoffrey's white face as he spoke urgently to the King.

Twas the last time she would see him for three days.





Ten


Geoffrey felt the world tilt on its access as he pleaded with the King to reconsider. To show mercy. To set his bride free.

"Are you mad? You could have almost any well bred virgin you chose."

"I have had knowledge of her. I took her maidenhood. I would have her to wife. I beg this of you."

"Do not be ridiculous Geoffrey. But you give us and idea. We could take  her as our mistress, truly show the sisters to be as corruptible as any  courtier."

"My liege, I beg you-"

Philip turned to him, his dark eyes as hard as obsidian.

"Would you prefer I burn her Geoffrey?"

Geoffrey choked back the bile that was rising in his throat. The King  looked ready to switch his decision with the least provocation. Of  course the King wanted Isabel. Any man who laid eyes on her would have  similar thoughts. And it was all Geoffrey's fault.

He'd brought this exquisite, brave, beautiful woman here, ruined her and  put her in harm's way. And now the King would destroy her, body and  soul. But perhaps... she might be able to forgive him once this ordeal  was over. Perhaps she would still have him.

"Sire, I would wed her still."

King Philip turned to look at him searchingly.

"You would have her, even as my castoff?"

"Yes, my liege."

The King clasped his shoulder.

"You surprise me Geoffrey. But I will think on it."

He turned and clapped his hands.

"Take her upstairs and clean and clothe her. Make sure she is befitting of a King!"

Geoffrey closed his eyes and prayed.

<><><><><>

Isabel stared at the opulent splendor around her. But an hour ago, she'd  been surrounded by dank odors, rats and cold stone walls. She wasn't  sure that this felt any more reassuring.

What had changed?

Had Geoffrey convinced the King to let them wed?

It seemed unlikely after the scene she'd witnessed. She knew in her  heart that Geoffrey hadn't brought her here knowing the King's true  purpose. But for a moment she'd doubted...

Isabel had felt such a piercing betrayal, it might have been a knife.

But the pallor of Geoffrey's face convinced her otherwise. That in  addition to the things he'd said and the way he'd held her told her the  truth: he had not known. He looked as devastated as she.

Nay.

More.

She walked to the window. It overlooked a garden, more beautiful than  any she'd ever seen. Ornately trimmed hedges and huge swaths of roses in  full bloom . Behind her maids were bustling, preparing a bath. Another  set of women were carrying in extravagantly luxurious gowns in every  color of the rainbow. Every now and then one of them would hold a  garment up to her face and then flit away like a little bird.

Other than that, everyone left her alone.

She had never felt more alone.

Not even when she'd escaped her Uncle, after her father died.

Two women approached her and swiftly took her measurements, muttering to  each other in french. Then another led her to a chair and began  trimming her hair. Through it all she sat silent. Deep inside her she  knew that they were preparing her for slaughter.

Of which sort she did not know.

It almost didn't matter anymore.

All she knew was that her dreams of marrying Geoffrey had been snatched  away, never to come true. Without hope, there was no cause to resist  them as they prepared her.         

     



 

She allowed them to undress her and stepped into the bath.





Eleven


Geoffrey stood stiffly in his dress tunic with John and Richard at his  sides. They alone knew the situation that he and Isabel found themselves  in. They alone had sworn to help him.

He was in a state of utter panic and had been for several days. Not only  was he not allowed to see Isabel, he could not figure out how to help  her with out committing treason against the King.

A King he had served tirelessly for more than a decade.

A King he had respected.

A King he had loved.

But no more. Isabel had washed that away. She was all that mattered now. Her life. Her wellbeing. Her safety.

He could not allow his two friends to commit treason, regardless of  their devotion to him. If he did, he'd be no better than the King,  putting his own selfish desires above care for others.

King Philip would most likely not see it that way no matter what the  outcome. So if Geoffrey acted, it would impact his brothers in arms all  the same. There was no help for it. They would all have to escape.

Together.

More than anything though, he needed to see her. To speak to her. To know she was okay.

To know she forgave him.

He had spent the last few days as if in a fever dream. Constantly afeared. Constantly imaging her in his arms.

Philip's arms around her.

Philip's lips upon her.

Philip's cock sliding into her sweet flesh.

Geoffrey choked back the bile that rose in his throat and stood tall. He would not allow that to happen. He could not.

He must not.

Around them the banquet swirled with intrigue and politics. Courtiers  flirted and parried as if it were any other day. As if Geoffrey was not  about to commit treason.

And then he saw her and his fears washed away. The whole room grew quiet  as Isabel was escorted into the room. Twas not just her beauty that  caused the pall.

Twas the guards that surrounded her on either side.

A glorious prisoner, dressed in a crimson gown that befit a queen.  Except that a queen would not have her breasts so lavishly displayed. Or  a waist so narrow. Or such golden hair piled high upon her head. Or  such luminous skin and glowing eyes.

No one but Isabel.

Everyone stopped to watch her as she was escorted across the room to the  King. She was seated to his right and he made it plain that she was his  new chosen mistress. Geoffrey's stomach turned as the King petted  Isabel and fed her morsels from his plate.

She did nothing, simply sitting there beside the King. She did not  flinch at is touch but she did not simper as most ladies would. In  truth, only Geoffrey could detect her distress.

And she was distressed. Horribly so.

Finally he could wait no longer. He crossed the room and bowed. The King  smiled at him, their quarrel forgotten. Such was the way of Kings.

But not so Knights.

<><><><><>

Isabel's hands were clenched in her lap. Tonight was the night. The King  had visited her in her chamber earlier and told her of his intentions.  The past few days she'd been poked and prodded. They'd fed her until she  was ready to burst and had the physic attend her to look for signs of  disease.

All the preparation had been a reprieve of sorts.

But now the time had come.

There was no escaping this humiliation. The King meant to have her. And  she could do nothing but surrender. To wear the gaudy clothes they gave  her.

To go with the King to his bed.

Not after he'd threatened Sir Geoffrey's life.

She could not allow the good Knight to be killed on her behalf. Even  now, when hope was lost, she loved him still. And now he stood before  her.

Her heart leapt at the sight of him. So handsome and strong in his finery. He must live.

He must.

Isabel watched as Geoffrey's eyes slid over the King to bore into hers. A  sudden chill went through her at the fury and pain in his eyes. And  something else- he was preparing.

Her love was about to do something foolish she realized suddenly. Isabel  leant forward and reached out, attempting to waylay him. If only she  could speak to him... to tell him to save himself.

"Geoffrey! Have you come to dance with my new mistress?"

The breath whooshed from her chest. Perhaps the King had read Geoffrey's  mind as she had. He had given them the opportunity she craved!

Geoffrey nodded curtly and waited as Isabel made her way around the  table. She placed her hand in his and a jolt ran through her. This might  be the last time she was alone with him... she must not waste this  chance.

In moments she faced the Knight on the dance floor. The music swelled  and they went through the motions. At first they did not speak. The King  was watching them intently.

"Isabel..."

"I know it is not your fault Geoffrey. There's nothing you can do. Forget me."

"I cannot."

"You must."

"Do not ask me again."         

     



 

She felt ice go through her veins at the look in his eyes. He was going to risk all for her. But he would fail.

"Geoffrey I beg you not to risk your life. He has already promised me that he will kill you if I displease him."