Brown Skin - Timaira Smith (books to read in your 30s txt) 📗

then by all means give me a local whore to spill my seed into. A child, I am still very young and have good health, I have time! Why must I even marry if love is not considered? What is the purpose of marriage then? The bible itself says that man and woman come together as one, and that one meaning making love while being in love! Rather I am a king or a mere peasant on the streets, I am a servant to my God and If he wants marriage to be sacred then I will obey my God!" King Troy faced Thomas now, almost spitting into his mouth such angry words.

"The purpose of marriage is procreation, my king, and you know that! This is not new knowledge! You should have known when your father passed on that there will be more responsibilities as a new king besides wearing lavish clothing and making nice with your court. We have waited far too long on his highness to find a queen, with the eve of your twenty eighth birthday being the deadline that we allow you to find your own. Now your board of trustees must do the work for you. We will bring the finest ladies in the state, all with royal blood of course and all you must do is choose one. A mere pointing of your finger and saying which one you desire my lord!"

"Bring me all the maidens, virgins or whores of the world as you wish Thomas, but do not expect me to choose something quickly, for I will not choose a womb, but a woman. And a real woman she must be!" At those words King Troy almost tore down the door breaking through it, ending the meeting with the cold air of the swinging door. Thomas cursed in frustration and sat down with heaviness at his belt.

"What is it going to take to get through his thick skull? By God, the Stawery blood is as hard headed as stone and as stubborn as a prostitute forced to go to a nunnery! Speaking of love like a ignorant little boy. Spoiled and rotten and blind to what is important now. He needs to find love later. A wife and a queen for this kingdom is needed now!"

"Calm down Thomas, you could be hanged for treason at your loud words, he is still young, has the mindset of a teenager still, coming into the throne at age twenty five is a very early time for him still." Sire William Hartford sympathized in effort to ease the tension of the room.

"Age twenty five is early? I have known kings to mature at age sixteen! He needs to get his head straight, we can no longer wait on him to get his feelings together. Without an heir to the throne we all, this court, is in danger of being over thrown, If we get attacked and our lord is captured...no even if he gets the hint of sickness and dies there is no one to continue on the reign! His brothers and father are dead, his mother is a woman and far too old, He is the only one who can bring any kind of security to this kingdom!"

"Then forcing him to do something he will do nothing but refuse is not going to do us nor this kingdom any good now is it? Calm your rage man, He is a virgin and there are other ways to persuade him otherwise. We just need the help of a woman...." All the mens' faces in the room lit up with an idea.

The door of the King's chamber slammed with a mighty blow, strong enough the shake the castle off its foundation. "Leave me!" King Troy shrieked to his poor servants who were tidying up his room. That was one thing worth mentioning about King Troy Stawery and the Stawery legacy, their rage ruled them. When angry, they had an awful temper and everyone at the wrong place at the wrong time was subject to being scapegoats. He started pacing his room, throwing off his clothing as if it was the very thing upsetting him. Blinded by his anger he tossed his cloak dangerously close to the fire. Realizing his mistake, he turned around and ran to swoop it up into his arms again. Having new burn marks, the cloak now smelled of smoke, and not the sweet smell of Lillian. He fell to his knees, fixing his eyes upon what he had done. The burnt cloak he held in his hands was his father's last gift to him on his deathbed. The former King Troy Stawery was a great leader, in court and in military. He wore this cloak on the battlefield at every war, bleeding and sweating into it. He remembered the last words of his father as he received the heavy cloth.

"Son, being a ruler is not noted by what you control, but what you give to your kingdom. Love, son, love is a more stronger ruler to court. As I love you, your mother, Your brothers and sister, and my friends at court. Remember this cloak, though dirty, stained and rank with battle smells, it kept me alive and warm, helping me stay strong for all that looks up to me. Love should be this way, do not get haughty and pompous because of your rank in state, never forget that you are servant to God, then to love, before all are servants to you. Love, my son, Love...." And with that the sixty eight year old leader closed his eyes, smiling at the last moment of his life. Having this memory in mind at all times of being the only one to watch his beloved father die tore at King Troy's heart, though he never expressed it to even his closest friends. He clutched the cloak and started to cry. The tears that slid down his face into his thin mustache were cleansing and pure. He had so much emotion that no one ever considered a king to have. He was supposed to be strong, mighty, and bold. His only fear was being seen as weak, to make sure he was not discovered, he ran and bolted the door with locks, hitting it with his mighty fists and slid down the door, using it as the shoulder that he wish he had to weep on. Two levels down Lillian was also against her door, sewing the ripped dresses, naked on the cold floor, using the sheet as a guard to keep her backside from freezing. She sat singing to herself, for she was skilled in voice, with a sweet and pure voice.

On the meadow, the grass so green and gay
With daisies, and posies and clovers all to lay
The sun unsets upon a clearing day
God bless the dawn in the springing flowers May
Bring my rose and he will be here to stay...

 

The light and beautiful sounds were not meant to carry far beyond the castle walls, but in some mysterious way, they sung through walls and up stairs. Making people walking the halls stop and listen, made noisy animals in the stables quiet down. Rebecca was walking past Lillian's door, readjusting her gown on her body and tidying up her messy hair when she heard Lillian's song. She placed her ear on the door and realized that was Lillian. She stood back and stared through the door with jealousy, picking up her skirts she ran down the hall. The melody traveled all the way to the King's chamber, holding the heavy king with tears still softly falling down his face. He heard some noises faintly coming from the other side of his door, he cracked it open to listen close for he was curious.

Bring a rose so nice and red and fine
Give him grace, and mercy, all divine
We will walk and talk and lose the time
And all will know that he is mine
Yes all will know that he is only mine.

 

Lillian sighed and finished her stitch. She lifted up the dress to inspect her work and realized she was no where close to finished with the tears. She threw the dresses across the room and sat back against the door too fast. BAANG! She bumped her head against the wood. "Ouch! God's foot!" She reached up and felt her injury, blood streaked down her head. "Oh no.." She got up and looked for something to soak up the blood. She grabbed the sheet she was sitting on. She put it back down. Dust, dirt and an open wound would surely make her ill. She went for her only nightgown, a white thin cloth dress that dragged across the floor with long sleeves that she had to pull back to free her hands. She slowly opened the door and slipped through the crack. Tiptoeing down the hall wearing no shoes, she was careful to not make any sounds for it was late at night. The only things that stirred were the cold winds through open windows and the guardsmen walking the halls. Blood started pouring down her back, staining the back of her nightgown and leaving drops on the floor. She snuck past the guard standing in the grand corridor, and ran down halls she was not familiar with. She was not sure of where she was going but she knew there was a river in the back garden behind the castle. She stopped to see if she could hear any outdoorsy sounds, after a while she heard a chirp of a cricket, she followed the sound down a tunnel and immediately felt cold wind. The cricket was standing on the cobblestone opening to the back garden, singing to her its mating song. She bent down to look at it, and it turned to do the same to her. They seemed to stare at each other for a minute. "What am I doing?" She got back up and began to walk into garden.

King Troy was fast asleep against his door, when he heard a rush of feet in the halls. "Blood! Blood! There has been murder! What evil crime has been committed?!" All of a sudden there was frenzied beating on his door. "Your majesty! My lord! Open the door if thou dost live!" He got up and opened the door with a great confusion.

"What is the noise?! I am fine! Who bleeds?"

"I know not, my lord, look! It trails long and far, oh God help us!" King Troy walked into the hall and saw the trail. Fear immediately struck his heart.

Such a Pretty Bird

"Brrrrrr!" Lillian took her head out the water of the Stawery Manor River. As she sat up, her pitch black way hair whipped onto her back, instantly soaking her. Feeling cold and wet, she thought of an idea. She looked left then right. Figuring that she was the only one awake and no one would see her she slipped out of her night gown.