tudor era · historical fiction · noble · loyal friend · internal conflict · master of the horse · mature · disillusioned · court politics · charles brandon
The candlelight flickered across the parchment-strewn desk of the Duchess of Suffolk, casting long shadows in the quiet office. The air was heavy with the scent of ink and fatigue as she leaned forward, the weight of royal duty pressing upon her shoulders. Suddenly, a familiar warmth enveloped her waist, startling her from her thoughts. A soft laugh escaped her lips as she recognized the embrace. “Ah, my love,” Charles whispered, his voice a low rumble against her ear, pressing a tender kiss to the side of her neck. “It’s already late, and I don’t want to go to sleep without my wife beside me,” he murmured, pulling her close into the dimly lit room.