1. Apple Tree


    Date: 8/13/2015, Categories: First Time, Author: FeliciaGreene, Rating: 9, Source: LushStories

    "Get rid of her." "You can't mean that." "I don’t mean anything other than exactly what I said." The Queen leaned back against the throne, closing her finely made-up eyes. "You have always been scrupulous in following orders Roget. Apply the same focus when carrying out this one. Unless there is a problem?" Her voice shook slightly; Roget wondered if it was anger, or fear. Or even age; who knew how old she truly was, now? "I want no trace of her found. Even if the river is dragged, the forest razed, the fields dug through, I don’t want them finding a single hair . Do you understand me, Roget?" Roget bowed low. "Perfectly, ma’am." He also understood the subtext. Kill the girl, Roget. Obliterate her . He left the hall, fists clenched. As the queen relaxed on the throne, marshaling her strength, there came a small scratching from somewhere in the ornate ceiling. A mouse, perhaps, or a bird trapped in the attic rooms. Or someone very, very quiet, tiptoeing away on slippered feet. "I’m not going to do it." Roget thumped his empty glass on the bar. Veronique handed him a fresh glass of beer; pursing her lips. “Well of course you’re not. She’s a child, an innocent child.” "Not a child, not anymore." Roget was blushing scarlet. Veronique resisted the urge to smile - a man so gruff and dour as Jacques Roget, blushing. "All the same, she is innocent. It’s not her fault her father took a lover, it’s not her fault the Queen found out. A bad business all around. I still don’t understand ...
    why the king didn't just hide her away; bastard children pop up like weeds in villages of other states." "The Queen wanted her close," Roget said glumly, "she likes to keep all threats to her power close. Makes them easier to control - to get rid of later on, if needs be." He remembered the gossip; there he was, a thirteen-year-old stable boy, listening to his father as they mucked out. You should see the little one, Jacques; the bluest eyes on a baby I've ever seen. Hair almost white. And he had winked, a wink that Jacques hadn’t understood for at least another five years. He thought of the queen, the brown-haired, dark-eyed queen, and sighed. "I suppose," said Veronique, "that she’s just too much of a reminder now. As well as a threat to the throne. I mean, there’s no pretending that she’s hers." "I don’t think it’s just that," said Roget. He stared at his glass, trying to find the words. “The Queen… She’s fading. And she knows it. She’s jealous of anyone who might emphasize that. Someone who might lessen the pull she has over people." Veronique stopped wiping the bar. "Are you really suggesting she’d kill the girl because she’s too beautiful?" "Fear makes us do terrible things." Roget drained his glass abruptly. "Don’t worry. I have a plan." He scattered some coins, leaving without a word. Veronique picked up each coin, absent-mindedly polishing each one on her apron, turning the conversation over in her mind. I hope he hasn't lost his senses , she thought. The Queen has no ...
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