"My lady," he said, bowing.
"Stephen."
"I shall leave His Majesty in your care." Stephen extinguished the last candle near the desk, and bowed himself towards the door. "Good night, my lady."
Henry was already in bed, propped against the pillows in his nightshirt, the coverlet drawn to his waist.
"Your Majesty," Livia said, and curtsied. She stood alone before the king.
"I am beginning to worry, Livia," he said. "Are you planning to stand there all night?"
She smiled then loosened the clasp of the cloak. The heavy wool slid from her shoulders and dropped to the floor.
The maroon silk clung to her body. Lace curved over her breasts, hiding nothing, and the long slits at her thighs parted when she moved, offering brief, dangerous glimpses of skin.
Henry lifted himself on his elbows. "Liv?"
Livia's heart thundered as she walked to the bed. Last time, she had come to him with fear. Tonight, she climbed onto the bed without waiting for him to reach for her.
