“We’ll not fail.”
You have no idea what it’s like to live with an unambitious husband. Well, maybe you do. Then you’ll understand; all a girl wants is a little stability, a little prosperity, a little country. And all he wants is a night out crusading with the boys.
So he needed a push. A little, teeny weeny push. A nudge, really. And those witches called it, so it doesn’t even count. When he told me what those old crones said, I knew my ship had come in (I mean our ship, of course). And it was pure fate that Duncan had already been invited to dinner; things were just falling into place.
And the offset went perfectly; Duncan died and I was finally queen. It should have been wonderful; the crown, the standing, the wealth. But then came the visions, and the paranoia. First hubby o’mine goes crackers at the dinner table, in front of everyone; next thing I know I can’t sleep and there isn’t enough soap in the world to get this damn blood washed away!
Things were unravelling fast- Mac couldn’t keep it together, the court were revolting (they were never that great to begin with), and the stain… the stain… the stain. It won’t ever go away. Not ever. Never.