Henryk glanced around his palatial room with a calm gaze of a surveyor. His demeanor was only interrupted by an intermittent trembling of his lower lip. Despite his objective inspection, he could not help but imagine the vastness of wealth and power that he now inherited from his dead kinsman Bezprym.
The master bedroom he appraised was decorated by tapestries from as far to the East as Persia and by a bed writhing in its own interplay of gold and wood. The lamps could barely illuminate the dozens of ornamentals and sacramentals strewn across the room from ivory pressed emblems of the White Eagle of Lech, to a gold pressed icon of Our Lady.
But it was not for these expensive and priceless items that Henryk now nearly trembled in anticipation. Of all the possessions his kinsman had, none were as beautiful as the lady Bezprym had wed. Oh yes, it was the widow Maria who now stood waiting outside of the bedroom door for whom Henryk thought of most.
Perhaps it was her relative youth, or perhaps it was her grace and grandeur. Maria had been a force of moderation in her own life; she had eaten only enough to maintain her busy schedule and as such her entire frame was accentuated by a cunning curvature. Even in her studded regal dresses, the parts that stood out about her were the moistness of her skin and the supple pucker of her lips.
For Henryk, attaining her had been the hardest. Maria had mourned long for the death of her husband. So much so that it was obvious she had not found out about Bezprym’s adulterous relationship with Helena Lis. Of course, Henryk did not tell her right away; to do so would make him seem like a villain! Oh no, he had waited patiently courting the younger lady until this point where she now awaited outside his bed chamber in the middle of the night when no one else could discover their lustful fornication. Henryk held his fists tightly in glee.
Tonight would be the night. He would finally tell Maria about Helena and, as Henryk so expertly planned, will console her into his bed and claim her for his own. That’s right; he had summoned her to his bedchamber to tell her a grave secret. She does not know that such a devious trap awaited her to enter his sheets.
The soft knock signaled Henryk from the door.
“Come in,” Henryk called out and, after a second’s pause, the large chamber door slid open just enough to admit Maria within before closing behind her.
In the lamplight of that late hour, the widow shone with the pale beauty of the moon accentuated by a beauty mark directly beneath her right eye. She gave the normal courteous bow to Henryk who approached her.
“Thank you for coming, dear Lady Maria,” Henryk began attempting to sound as magnanimous as possible and leading that lady to a seat near his bed.
“It was by my King’s command that I come, your Highness, how may I be of service?”
Henryk allowed her to seat herself before he took a similar position across the side table. He let a moment pass as his eyes were fixed upon her visage. Although Lady Maria kept her eyes to the ground, Henryk was all the more captivated by her docile nature.
“As I said earlier when I told you to come here, I have some news that I believe you should know pertaining to our most notable kinsman and your dead husband Bezprym.”
For a moment Maria raised her eyes to meet Henryk’s gaze but quickly pressed them to a lower view again to hide her slight surprise.
“Yes… my former husband…” Maria intoned almost gloomily. Henryk quickly followed her lugubrious gesture to appear just as saddened over the death. He was playing his part perfectly.
“May… I have a drink, your Highness?” Maria softly asked as her hands rubbed each other. Henryk noticed how the poor girl seemed on the verge of tears, but wine would be a great idea both to calm her and to hopefully strip away some of her inhibitions for later. He hid his grin behind a veneer of a consoling frown.
“Of course,” he said slowly.
Maria walked over to the table where drinks were kept always for His Majesty’s thirst. Her movements were not at all dainty unlike the younger women of the court. Maria had the kind of movement that was indeed fit for a more mature kind of woman. Henryk noticed his breathing accelerating just watching her move.
Maria returned to the table bringing along a tray and giving Henryk a somber smile. Two cups were present and in all his celebration Henryk suddenly realized the danger of wine given by a woman. After all, this was the method by which his kinsman was so wonderfully dispatched. For a brief while, uncertainty and suspicion clouded his mind and the entire evening was on the verge of catastrophic failure. His heart pumped now not for the beauty of the woman sitting across from him on the small table but for the contents of the cups.
“I would like for us to share a drink,” Maria interrupted. Henryk almost foolishly looked up to her with surprise before she continued saying, “you have been so kind to me, good cousin, and I wanted to commemorate it with a drink.”
At that, Maria almost coyly took up one of the cups and sipped it allowing the ethereal feeling of alcohol to slide down her throat. After what seemed like a short sigh she handed the cup she had drunk from to Henryk.
What a coup! Henryk thought. No complications after all if she tasted from the same cup. He eagerly took the drink and took a sip himself. With that woman looking at him with a happy smile, it was now time for him to temporarily ruin that expression only to reap the rewards with consolations later.
“My dearest Maria, I hate to tell you the news but—”
At that point, Henryk’s throat contracted violently. He gasped with a shocking inhale against the walls of his windpipe. He grabbed hold of his throat and looked with a terrible expression at Maria who now had stood up and walked in front of him.
“As you gasp for air, pig,” Maria began with a tone as incensed as a growl of a wolf, “I too came here to tell you about my husband. My murdered husband!”
As Maria’s expression began to madden, Henryk looked to the cup of which they both had drunk with great regret and confusion as he harped for breath.
“Oh this?” Maria taunted spilling the remainder of the wine cup onto Henryk’s lap, “I bet you thought it was safe to drink it after I did, you stupid pig. But yes I did poison it. I rubbed a little off my finger onto the inside of the cup just above the wine. When I drank it, it was just wine, but when you drank it, you lecherous swine, the wine passed over the inside of the cup where I smudged your poison.”
Henryk was already tearing up and turning a terrible shade of red as his capillaries began to burst open. With his hands still on his throat attempting to insert air into his lungs, he convulsed almost wildly on his chair and his head shook left and right rapidly.
“Oh yes, my faithful, loving husband murdered and I know it was you behind all of it!” Maria cried out.
No, Henryk thought, if only he had told her about Helena sooner, if only—
Before his thoughts could finish, Maria jabbed a blade into the side of his throat. Henryk made no sound except the last gasping squeal of a hog being bled before roasting. As that crazed body came to a resting halt, Maria stood with a pant in her breath. Her “faithful” and “loving” husband had now been avenged.
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by canonized
Thank you again canonized for such great sample of your talent.
Canonized created kind of alternative-alternative history, or story in a story - it is very interesting, entertaining and absorbing work, one of MustRead. If someone like me, with poor english is reading narrative AAR, then it really must be good one. Besides great prose, canonized is quite active forum member - his another excellent idea is interview with various writAARs, discussing many topics of writing craft, and exchange project, started by this bonus chapter, and movie I made, for his AAR.
Go check out his alternative-alternative history, narraitve AAR
Timelines: What if Spain Failed to Control the World?