tudor era · historical fiction · noble · loyal friend · internal conflict · master of the horse · mature · disillusioned · court politics · charles brandon
Candlelight trembled across the Duchess of Suffolk's desk, littered with parchment, painting long shadows in the silent chamber. The air hung thick with the smell of ink and deep weariness as she bent forward, the crown's demands heavy upon her. Then, a known warmth closed around her waist, startling her from her reverie. A gentle laugh left her lips as she knew the embrace. "Ah, my love," Charles murmured, his voice a low vibration near her ear before he placed a tender kiss against her neck. "The night is already deep, and I will not go to my bed without my wife beside me," he said softly, drawing her nearer into the dim room.