Her Dominating king

1

France 1519- Four years after Jacqueline's first meeting with Lord Daniel Defleur.

Jacqueline was on her knees, in the heat of the kitchen, her father glared at her as she wept uncontrollably. Her body ached, her heart did too, and she wished she could go to sleep. She had been working all day, and for spilling a litre of milk on the floor she was in trouble.

She wished he would forgive him, see love one day in his dark blue eyes instead he saw disappointment and it hurt her. She knew she would be punished; her father had insulted her already, he had made her clean the whole house and wash his clothing that week. As well as her chores for the day, and her prayers and her charity work. She just hoped he would ground her. A little punishment in her eyes, and she would be able to sleep.

"No food for tonight and you will stay in your room for the reminder of the night and pray for God's forgiveness, even if you cannot have my forgiveness." He paused looking at his youngest child, the William was working and Thomas was sleeping upstairs, the favourite of the three. "Is that understood?" Her father had the cane in his hand no matter her mother's protests.

Jacqueline smiled inwardly a minor punishment and curtsied. "Yes Papa," He dismissed her but she was largely pleased to be off the cold floor as she sunk onto her carpeted one. Her grey dress loose fitting she had tripped, slightly but composed herself and silently looked around her plain room.

Her head hurt from all the cleaning she had done, no meals until tomorrow she knew he would carry out his word. The kitchen of no use as it was locked that Sunday. Clutching her stomach to tease it , that it was a full belly, she looked outside and saw Anthony there. "Anthony!" She called he looked up and bowed before continuing his work with the horses.

Climbing outside she stood at his side. "You shouldn't be out her ma petit," He whispered looking around as she pulled him in a tight embrace.

Anthony's grey eyes twinkled mischievously he blinked at his little friend. She had lost weight over the last year, her rosy chubby cheeks gone now almost hollow but on the verge. Her priest of a father keeping her well-fed just to keep up with appearances, but she still held her dimples. And she was still beautiful.

"Oui, Anthony. I know." She growled irritated. "But papa has forbidden me to eat, and I have to pray, and I am bored Anthony," She whined, clinging onto his jacket. He chucked slightly, she was like a little girl still. "Then embrace your punishment and receive God's forgiveness." He began, she frowned she hadn't expected this. She wanted a joke made at her father and a baked pastry to satisfy her. He gave her the latter from the depths of his satchel. "Now go inside and redeem yourself, "He ordered his tone betraying him. He was joking. "Mon frère... I redeem myself each day. I pray five times a day, go to church at least once a week, read the bible every day, wash papa's clothing, help the good wives. I need a rest Anthony," He nodded sympathetically. Patting her head she leant into him whilst he silenced her. "I have to go?"

"Yes miss, you do, but don't forget I'm there. And I love you and beg for his Lord's forgiveness your father will come in time." He smiled at her and aware in case anyone saw her she dipped a curtsy as returned it with a bowed and left.

She returned to her room, biting into the pastry that Anthony had given her she looked through the bible. Falling asleep she begged for god's pardon for a sin that she was completely unaware of what it was for.

Looking around her room she decided it was not the worst of fates. The fire roared, she was grateful for that her father had punished William, her brother, with no heat locked in his room for three days he hadn't eaten, grovelling for forgiveness he had lost his childhood that day.

He had toughened up and chosen his path. To go to God for his life. Able to marry as a priest of King Henry, he vowed to wait never to subject his wife to unnecessary hate and no attention. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

A maid brought food in the next day. One of the only maids of the household she had kindly told her that her father was out and she is allowed out before curtsying and leaving.

Jacqueline took the porridge to her mouth, unseasoned, if must have been punishment from her father he knew how she adore cinnamon. But the croissant not enough she finished the bowl set before her. She was blessed to eat all the same. The maid came in again and drew her bath. Laying out her clothing, she caressed the fine material, light green it matched the season perfectly. The spring crisp sky flowed into her room.

She dressed and went to her mother's chambers. "Good morning mama." Jacqueline bobbed a curtsy; her mother kissed her lightly on each cheek before they began to sew.

The day past quickly sewing and reading her mother had been happier. Her father must of given her a gift. She always as like this after gifts, her father presented them in the morning light. But her father was away on business.....

Jacqueline did not voice her boredom, sewing was expected of woman, and she just wished she could ride like her brothers or those handsome men. Or she could do something else, something fun, have someone. Like those men who she had seen riding in the village who gave their mistresses presents.

Like the clip in her hair. Jacqueline saw a new one blue to match her mother's eyes it contrasted but suited the blue dress she had on now.

Jacqueline's hair was in a loose bun her dress decent showing no cleavage as a unmarried woman. She had been taught from an early age that only her husband should see private flesh. And women who bared their breasts would rot in hell.

"We are to host a ball a private one tomorrow when your father arrives. I hope you will use what I have taught you,"

"Yes mama," Jacqueline whispered, silently upset, dancing with random men she knew she was of age, a suitor probably picked for her.

Her fate would begin that week, a short courting with her husband she would be deflowered by the end of it. She hoped she wouldn't have to marry a butcher, they smelt profoundly and she hated the smell of raw meat.

Looking outside she frowned as a man slapped his wife outside in public, Jacqueline excused herself and went to rest. Wishing and hoping that she would not be subjected to that from her husband, she closed her eyes.

At the Defleur Mansion

"Of course, Your Majesty," Dominic bowed towards his king, the young Francis the first looked at his swordsman before continuing talking. "You have picked a wife?" Dominic nodded, ruffling his hair. He sipped some of the wine, moving his head in conformation.

"You are a good man Defleur; I hope she is of worth."

"My father picked her, Your Majesty. I have yet to meet the wench apparently the daughter of a clergyman; he asked if I would like her. And I obey my father as my king." The young eighteen year old said humbly. Whilst he kept looking at his king, his idol, the man who he had adored since childhood. Francis, taking the compliment, sipped more of the wine placed before him. A man of culture and the world, the king was devout to his religion and his country. Being more humble than his rival King Henry the Eighth king of England he talked freely with his men, including Dominic. Being the only child Dominic had no elder brother to look above.

 "Mon frère then I hope as a wedding present I can give you an invitation to England with your love I have some business with Henry."

Dominic looked at the man, his face genuine he was the king, friend to none enemy to some and Dominic would give his life for his sovereign. "I'm grateful, Your Majesty."

He chuckled and rose inside gave Dominic a box. "That is bon non?" Dominic nodded. "Good I am to go and do me a favour Dominic open that box when you two are truly ready as one of my men I offer you my kingdom your own through this box." He pressed the box tightly into his hand. "I'll guard it with my life till then, my lord." Dominic bowed as the king smiled at him and left the room. Dominic slumped into the chair, sighing, he was going to have a wife. He had a woman; he would have to provide for him and her. Would she be pretty? Would she be faithful to God? He continued thinking as he released his neck from the formality of the ruff. His head swarmed with questions but he knew one thing, he would look after her and would expect the exact same.