"Albeit stubborn ones," she had murmured before the kiss. As Charles moved in to kiss her, all sense of regret of common sense, for that matter, seemed to dissipate. Instead, these emotions had been replaced with a man's desire to hold his wife close in his arms, to shield her from the world as she comforted him in his darkest times. There were bound to be darker times for the king and his queen, but to think of such things was cynical and Charles was never the brooding type. Instead, he locked lips with his wife as his lifted her jaw subtly to look up at him.
The kiss was a passionate one, of course. Both he and his wife had been starved of such attention for a month now. Her usually occupied place in his bed was now chill and empty. For weeks now, he had longed to feel her touch, to feel her flesh. And, of course, he had especially missed their time alone in his chambers, their bodies moving as one beneath the sheets. Not until now had he truly realized the extent of his yearning for her. Without his queen, the king was lost. Henry had managed to prove that earlier.
Charles's other hand snaked behind her back, holding her close to his lean form as he kissed her ravenously. His perch on the stairs was an awkward one, but that thought seemed to have slipped his mind as Harriet wrapped her arms around his neck. The lack of actual communication before the kiss was surprising, as if the two had simply thought together and acted upon this thought. For, now they were in a full-on kiss of unspoken passion that simply could not be expressed in words alone. Reluctantly, their lips parted and Charles gave a faux frown, his eyes glinting mischievously.
"I love you so much, Charles," she whispered, her light blue hues meeting his stormy gray ones.
"As do I, Hattie..." he cooed, smiling subtly in a genuine manner now. The left corner of his mouth had turned upward slightly in a little grin that seemed mournful at first. Their time apart had pained him mentally, but he had seemed to forget this entirely. Now, his focus was on his wife and rekindling the flames that had died out after Lizzie's death. Well, that, and preparing for whenever his heir would be born. "Your stubborn shoes would be hard to fill...I believe only you have the ability to do so." He lifted his head slightly and pressed a kiss to her forehead, lips turning upward in a twitchy way as he smiled against the skin.
"Come to bed? I have missed you so much." Before she'd even finished speaking, Charles was nodding quickly, eagerly.
"I would love nothing more than that, Hallie," murmured Charles. He stood slowly with one hand gripping the banister as he held a hand out to help Harriet on to her feet. The king would have eagerly raced back to the room alongside his wife but she was pregnant and so he reluctantly forced himself into a brisk walk beside her, holding her hand firmly in his own as if letting go of it would cause her to leave him again. The walk was much too long for his liking, even though it hadn't taken more than a few minutes if anything.
By now, Charles's eyelids should have been fluttering with sleep, but he found himself wide awake as if on a high from the kiss they had just shared on the staircase. Much like a man who has tasted alcohol for the first time after a period of repose, he was already intoxicated by Harriet all over again. To him, it was much like their wedding night again when they had consummated their adoration in a passionate manner.
As Harriet sat on the bed, preparing to pull the bed covers over herself, Charles removed his traveling attire and then his trousers and doublet before joining her on the bed. Instinctively, as Charles laid down, he pulled Harriet closely and held her against himself again, one hand slowly running through her long blonde hair as he had when she'd been ill weeks and weeks before.
"I love you..." he purred, his breath brushing past her ear in a soft whispery manner. "I promise you that I will never, never leave your side again, my love. Once our son is born, we will not have to worry as much." His voice trailed off slowly and his brow furrowed temporarily. Their child had to be a boy. He needed an heir desperately. What would he do without one...? But, he would not allow himself to think of such things when he was in a jovial mood. Gingerly, he peppered kisses along Harriet's neck and along her jaw, his lips moving into a smile as his lips glided along her skin and his hands traced the curves of her body. Beside her, it would be much easier for him to fall asleep and, for the first time since he'd lost his first daughter, the king would sleep soundly through the night with his queen right beside him.
The kiss was a passionate one, of course. Both he and his wife had been starved of such attention for a month now. Her usually occupied place in his bed was now chill and empty. For weeks now, he had longed to feel her touch, to feel her flesh. And, of course, he had especially missed their time alone in his chambers, their bodies moving as one beneath the sheets. Not until now had he truly realized the extent of his yearning for her. Without his queen, the king was lost. Henry had managed to prove that earlier.
Charles's other hand snaked behind her back, holding her close to his lean form as he kissed her ravenously. His perch on the stairs was an awkward one, but that thought seemed to have slipped his mind as Harriet wrapped her arms around his neck. The lack of actual communication before the kiss was surprising, as if the two had simply thought together and acted upon this thought. For, now they were in a full-on kiss of unspoken passion that simply could not be expressed in words alone. Reluctantly, their lips parted and Charles gave a faux frown, his eyes glinting mischievously.
"I love you so much, Charles," she whispered, her light blue hues meeting his stormy gray ones.
"As do I, Hattie..." he cooed, smiling subtly in a genuine manner now. The left corner of his mouth had turned upward slightly in a little grin that seemed mournful at first. Their time apart had pained him mentally, but he had seemed to forget this entirely. Now, his focus was on his wife and rekindling the flames that had died out after Lizzie's death. Well, that, and preparing for whenever his heir would be born. "Your stubborn shoes would be hard to fill...I believe only you have the ability to do so." He lifted his head slightly and pressed a kiss to her forehead, lips turning upward in a twitchy way as he smiled against the skin.
"Come to bed? I have missed you so much." Before she'd even finished speaking, Charles was nodding quickly, eagerly.
"I would love nothing more than that, Hallie," murmured Charles. He stood slowly with one hand gripping the banister as he held a hand out to help Harriet on to her feet. The king would have eagerly raced back to the room alongside his wife but she was pregnant and so he reluctantly forced himself into a brisk walk beside her, holding her hand firmly in his own as if letting go of it would cause her to leave him again. The walk was much too long for his liking, even though it hadn't taken more than a few minutes if anything.
By now, Charles's eyelids should have been fluttering with sleep, but he found himself wide awake as if on a high from the kiss they had just shared on the staircase. Much like a man who has tasted alcohol for the first time after a period of repose, he was already intoxicated by Harriet all over again. To him, it was much like their wedding night again when they had consummated their adoration in a passionate manner.
As Harriet sat on the bed, preparing to pull the bed covers over herself, Charles removed his traveling attire and then his trousers and doublet before joining her on the bed. Instinctively, as Charles laid down, he pulled Harriet closely and held her against himself again, one hand slowly running through her long blonde hair as he had when she'd been ill weeks and weeks before.
"I love you..." he purred, his breath brushing past her ear in a soft whispery manner. "I promise you that I will never, never leave your side again, my love. Once our son is born, we will not have to worry as much." His voice trailed off slowly and his brow furrowed temporarily. Their child had to be a boy. He needed an heir desperately. What would he do without one...? But, he would not allow himself to think of such things when he was in a jovial mood. Gingerly, he peppered kisses along Harriet's neck and along her jaw, his lips moving into a smile as his lips glided along her skin and his hands traced the curves of her body. Beside her, it would be much easier for him to fall asleep and, for the first time since he'd lost his first daughter, the king would sleep soundly through the night with his queen right beside him.