So that was the mystery.

"Guards!" Henry thundered.

The guards rushed in.

Henry handed Stephen over to them, careful despite his rage. "Make sure he gets to his room." He turned to his mother. "How dare you?!"

Theodora’s face twisted with outrage. "How dare I? How dare you!"

"I warned you to leave it alone!"

"And thank God I didn’t!" Theodora snapped back, stepping toward him. "Is that why everyone around you was too stupid to tell me the truth!"

Madeleine’s eyes flicked between them, wide and hungry.

"You drugged my personal valet for information on your king."

"He is a servant."

"He is my servant."

"He was keeping secrets that were destroying you!"

"I am your king!"

Mother and son stood facing each other, both breathing hard, both wounded.

Henry’s hands clenched at his sides. "You will be punished."

Theodora’s lips parted in disbelief. "You will punish your own mother?" She laughed. "Do not be ridiculous."

Henry’s eyes hardened. "First thing in the morning, you will be escorted to the Tower of London, where you will spend the month. The solitude," Henry continued, "will give you time to reflect on your actions."

"Your Highness!" Theodora cried. "You cannot banish me from my own palace."

"This is my palace!" he boomed.

The words shook the chamber. Henry stepped closer, bare-chested, furious, every inch the king Theodora herself had helped create.

"Mine," he said. "It was never yours, and it will never be."

The blow landed exactly where he meant it to. It landed on the wound she had carried for years: the crown she had almost worn, the throne she had stood beside but never owned, the power she had tasted but never fully possessed.

"Henry..." she whispered.

"I thought for the slightest minute that I could trust you. Kneeling at my feet one minute and poisoning my servant the next. You keep crossing lines and I keep looking away because you are my mother and because yes, I do still love you despite all your despicable actions. Enough is enough."

Henry turned to the guards. "At dawn, she leaves for the Tower. Until then, she is confined to these rooms."

Theodora’s face went pale. "You would shame me publicly?"

Madeleine’s mouth twitched into a smile.

"I have spoken," he said, voice ringing with finality. "And my will be done." He turned once more, still breathing hard, still furious enough that the room seemed to tremble around him.

Madeleine stepped forward at once, holding out his robe. He took one sleeve, but Madeleine moved closer, helping him into it with careful hands.

Theodora saw the way Madeleine stood beside him when his mother had been cast down. She saw the way the princess’s fingers touched the robe, how she drew it over his shoulders like a wife, like a queen, like a woman claiming a place no one had yet given her. Then Madeleine smoothed the fabric down over his chest with care, her face arranged into concern.

"Calm down, Your Highness," she said softly. "Your heart is beating too fast."

Henry looked down at her. "Thank you, Princess."

Theodora’s mouth tightened. Of course the little French snake would find a way to look tender in the middle of a family war.

Henry cast one final glance at his mother. Theodora stood rigid, her pride bleeding where he had struck it.

He turned and walked out. Madeleine remained. Slowly, she turned to Theodora with her own victorious smile.

Just enough to show that she understood exactly what had happened. The queen mother had finally been dragged from the centre of power, even if only for a month. And Madeleine had been there to witness it. Better yet, she had helped carry the news that caused it.

"You did this..." Theodora said.

Madeleine lifted her brows with perfect innocence. "Did I?"

Theodora’s eyes burned. "Do not play dumb with me."

"Someone had to inform the king," Madeleine said lightly. "People just think they can do anything in his palace." Madeleine took one slow step closer. "You taught me something tonight, Your Grace. You taught me that Whitehall only belongs to the person the king allows to rule it."

"Don’t rejoice yet. It’s only a month."

"Next time, it might be longer," Madeleine said with a small shrug. "Next time, it might be forever." She curtsied. "Have a good night, Your Grace." She turned away, leaving the queen mother in her fury.

But her victory smile did not last long. The moment Madeleine stepped into the corridor, the sweetness of triumph began to sour.

Madeleine slowed her steps, her brows drawing together. Livia... What was she? A servant in a brothel? Or did she somehow own the place? No. That made little sense.

Surely, the king could not be sleeping with a harlot. Surely. The court whispered enough already as it is about Henry’s strange moods, his retreat from women, his sudden temper.

But a brothel girl? Madeleine’s mouth tightened. How was she supposed to begin searching brothels for the name Livia? Walk into every filthy establishment in London? One wrong movement, and the gossip would turn on her.

Maybe she had nothing to worry about. The queen mother was obviously against this. If Theodora hated the girl, then perhaps Madeleine did not need to act at all.

Maybe she should let the queen mother do her dirty work. Madeleine smiled again. Yes. Let Theodora hunt the girl. Let the old bitch tear London apart, sniffing through brothels and taverns.

*****

Henry was still cooling off from his anger when Lionel arrived from Kingsmere. When Lionel entered, dust clung to his boots and exhaustion sat heavily beneath his eyes. With one look at his face, Henry knew.

He had returned empty-handed.

"Nothing?" Henry asked.

Lionel bowed his head. "Nothing, Your Highness."

Henry shut his eyes.

"The duke felt quite slighted," Lionel continued carefully. "I had no explanations for him."

Henry looked away sitting resignedly on his bed. The anger drained from him, leaving only the ache beneath it.

Had he assumed wrong? Was he chasing shadows?

(Brought to you by Mar King 2/3)