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Chapter 6

The sound of footsteps reverberated off cold marble tiles and echoed through the halls. The woman looked up from her position where she had been crouching alongside the bed. It might as well have been called a prison. For that is what it was. She was a prisoner, or, more aptly put, a political hostage, and she was most definitely not feeling very well.

Anne clutched her stomach as she felt another wave of nausea sweep over her. Apparently, her stomach was violently disagreeing with that slop that they called food, which she had forced herself to partake of. Or, perhaps, she was not yet over the dreaded sickness that the midwife had told her comes over many expectant mothers.

Anne glanced up again, her hands still on her swelling stomach. Those steps were definitely coming toward her. Exactly what she did not need. More Prussians to try to interrogate her or taunt her or some combination to that effect. She was not in the mood for that. Not at all. The door swung open, and the dark-haired man, Friedrich, who had taunted her during the coach ride, entered the chamber. Anne closed her eyes and pulled herself to her feet, consciously deciding to set her back to him. So what if she was being un-Christian. She wished the man to the devil. Let Satan deal with him.

"Ma chère Anne," Friedrich said, his Prussian accent all but gone. "You have still not decided to speak to me. You seem to be lacking in manners, votre majesté. Did your husband and father not instruct you that it is very rude to turn your back on a visitor?"

That was it. Enough was enough. No more of this playing the simpering, scared captive. No more of this abuse without rebuttal. Still slightly shaky after her last bout of nausea, she turned to face the man, drawing herself up regally, despite her rather diminutive height. "Did not your school of gentlemanly manners teach you that one does not abduct a queen, or any lady? Nor does one treat a queen like she is a common village wench to be taunted. Does respect, perhaps, sound like a familiar concept to you? Or maybe you have never learned to respect your betters." Laurel was right; it felt so good to be truthful and say exactly how you felt instead of playing along within the strictures of society and the polite world's façade.