Taken by Darkness

It was only as the sun began to set later that evening that Ashley realized he hadn’t once seen Lady Trista since their arrival at the palace. She’d gone off to have an audience with His Majesty almost as soon as they were welcomed into the great hall. A lady-in-waiting had escorted him to the library, where he’d kept the company of Her Majesty. Only minutes after she’d poured their tea, a young man had let himself in, apparently seeking Her Majesty, and he’d come to a startling realization: he was the young man who’d caught his attention in the town square.

The Queen had smiled brightly upon seeing the young man, grinning so wide her pearly teeth were on display when he’d bent to press a quick kiss to her cheek. Turning back to her young guest, she’d introduced him as her son, Prince Andrew. As a gentleman should, he’d bowed over his hand as he’d raised it and pressed and gentle kiss to his knuckles, nearly making him swoon.

Since then, he’d been so distracted as Her Majesty and His Highness took him on a tour of the palace and its grounds that he didn’t notice the speed at which the day was passing. He also didn’t realize Lady Trista’s meeting with His Majesty was taking so long, but now he was beginning to wonder what was taking so long. The day was beginning to wane, and while all but one member of the royal ruling family had shown the utmost kindness, he longed to return home before darkness fell.

“I am glad to see you have gotten Lady Ashley to agree to sup with us.”

The sudden appearance of a foreign voice startled him into dropping his spoon in his soup bowl.

“Indeed, I have, my husband,” Her Majesty answered, turning a warm smile on the man who’d joined them in the private dining hall.

Ashley sat silently, starting when he felt His Highness lay a gentle, comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Lady Ashley, allow me to introduce my husband, King Christopher,” the Queen said to him.

“A pleasure, milady,” the King said softly, bowing to him.

“Likewise, Your Majesty,” he answered shyly, his own voice just as soft. “May I inquire about Lady Trista…?”

“You may,” he answered. “She received urgent word that one of her relatives is ill. Due to her husband also being out of town, she requested we keep you here at the palace since your remaining staff accompanied her so you are safe in her absence.”

“Oh,” Ashley said softly, though he suspected something else was going on, considering the negative emotions he’d seen in her eyes just that morn.

“Fret not, Lady Ashley,” Her Majesty told him, gently squeezing his hand. “You are more than welcome to pass the time with us here at the palace.”

“I thank you greatly, Your Majesties and Your Highness,” he said, a ghost of a smile curving his lips.

“Enough with the formalities. You may call us Lady Amy and Sirs Christopher and Andrew, respectively,” the Queen told him.

“Actually, I prefer Andy in private,” the Prince spoke up.

“Oh, yes…my apologies, son,” Lady Amy said.

From there on, supper was a fairly quiet affair. While the royal ruling family made sure to include him in their conversation, Ashley said little. He was polite and responded when spoken to, but he was quiet and shy by Nature; that behavior was only exacerbated in unfamiliar places around unfamiliar people. It was something he couldn’t help, and unless he spent quite a bit of time at the palace, he knew it wouldn’t change.

After they were all done eating, a lady-in-waiting came in to escort him to the guest chambers in the East wing. Lady Amy had already retired to the chambers she shared with her husband in the North wing, and like most gentlemen, Sir Andrew was taking a glass of brandy with his father before they, too, retired for the evening. It was only at the door of the guest chambers that he turned the young lady away, thanking her for the help he no longer needed and requesting she come get him for breakfast in the morning. Ashley smiled as the young lady curtsied to him before walking away, then sighed as he closed the guest chamber door.



Downstairs in Sir Christopher’s private study, he studied his son discreetly as he poured himself a glass of brandy. At the age of five and twenty, many of their subjects believed he should’ve taken a wife of his own at least a decade ago and sired at least one child, preferably a son, by now. However, the King knew from whence his only child’s reluctance to wed stemmed, and it made him proud. The young Prince had chosen his bride ten long years ago, on the night he was originally brought to the palace, and was waiting patiently for him to reach an age that wouldn’t be considered too young for marriage.

As his son turned to face him with his glass in hand, the older man sighed heavily and drained his own glass. He knew Andy would prefer to woo and wed his young lass in disguise of his own accord, but time was of the essence. Lady Trista was insistent upon getting rid of young Ashley, and without taking him in as some sort of servant, his staying at the palace, then marrying the Prince, would be improper. Even then, it would be improper and distasteful of his son to wed a mere servant, so it would be better if they wed sooner rather than later. Besides, at least then the adolescent would be ensured a permanent home since he knew Lady Trista would throw him out within a fortnight if he sent him back home.

“What is amiss, Father?” Andy asked as he took a seat in the second of two wing-back chairs flanking the hearth.

“Tough choices as both a father and a King,” he answered.

“What do you mean, Father?” his son asked, confusion written on his features.

“You are aware of the meeting Lady Trista scheduled, yes?” the King countered.

“Of course. I would have joined you for it had she not requested a private audience,” he told him.

“Well, she told me she wished to rid herself of Ashley,” Chris told him. “I fear that if I send him back to his home, she will cast him into the streets with only the clothes upon his back.”

“We cannot allow her to do that! Father, we must do something to help him!” the Prince cried.

“In that, you are right, and I am in complete agreement,” he said. “However, intelligent though I am, I can think of two ways of keeping him safe in a lifestyle similar to that he has known for the last decade. Now, if you have any other ideas, I am open to suggestions.”

“What ideas have you thus far, Father?”

“The first is that we take him in as a lady-in-waiting or something since he was raised as a young girl.”

Andy immediately balked at the idea. “But you know I intend to wed him under that very guise! You also know ’tisn’t proper for me to wed a servant, even if their position is that of a lady-in-waiting!”

“True on both counts, my son. That leads us to the only other idea I have come up with thus far,” he agreed.

“Which is…?” the Prince asked curiously.

“That you wed Ashley by special license within the next two or three days, and only because the longer he remains here, the more improper the situation will become,” Chris told him.

“But Father—” his son began.

“I know you wish not to wed under duress, but because Ashley chooses to do so willingly.” The King rose to pour them both another glass of brandy. “As I said, I am open to other suggestions, but those are the only solutions I have been able to come up with on my own.”

“What will you tell the people if word gets out that I wed by special license, regardless of whom I take to wife?”

“That you threatened to elope, but I convinced you to wed by special license.” Chris looked up at his son. “Additionally, a wedding ceremony will be planned as a formal event for a later date, for neither of you wished to postpone your nuptials.”

“You have really put some thought into your potential falsehoods, have you not?” the younger man asked.

“Indeed, I have,” he answered. “I wish not for the truth to get out, nor for Lady Trista to cast him out.”

Andy sighed heavily as he pulled his hands down his face. “I beg you to allow me to retire for the evening and be allowed a day or two to think over the situation.”

“Of course, my son. Rest easy, and request a private audience if you think of another solution or make a decision between the ones I have proposed and I am busy.”

“I shall be sure to, Father. Good eve.”

Chris nodded as he wished him a good eve in return, watching silently as he excused himself to retire for the night. Sighing heavily again, he drained his glass for the second time before setting it on the coffee table next to Andy’s, which had also been drained during their discussion. He felt bad about possibly forcing his son into a marriage he wasn’t necessarily ready for just yet, really and truly bad, but he felt even worse about it when he considered young Ashley’s feelings. He didn’t even know if the cross-dressing adolescent was attracted to his son, but he did know that’d only make matters worse if he were forced into marriage, especially if he was actually attracted to the opposite gender.

Unwilling to let those thoughts bring his spirits down unless he turned out to be right, the King decided it was time to retire for the night. He wasn’t surprised to see Amy already in bed asleep when he got up to the chambers they shared; it was pretty late, after all. As quickly and quietly as he could manage, he stripped off his daytime finery and pulled on his nightshirt, smiling and gently kissing his wife’s temple as she hummed and sighed softly when he crawled into bed behind her.

Notes