The King's Artist

Ch 25: When a Relationship Changes

Henry's pledge of immediate apology was soon noted to be a short-lived declaration.

Moments after leaving his uncle's company, Henry's feelings of betrayal over Adelaide's secret hastily returned in crashing waves of rage and confusion. The onslaught of emotions left him mentally exhausted and raw, devoid of any rationale, which frightened him. The last thing Henry wanted to do was see Adelaide again and immediately start cursing at her. He was well aware that her betrayal was very different from that of his stepfather's so many years ago, yet he couldn't seem to separate the images of their faces in his mind.

Henry Stafford had been a father to Henry Tudor when he was growing up. Stafford had married his mother when he had been just a year old, and, as a result, Henry grew up with Stafford as a replacement for his deceased father. His mother had been happy with him too, which was really the only thing that had mattered to Henry at the time: seeing his mother smile.

When turmoil and tension increased between the Lancastrians and Yorkists and the war swelled in death and blood, Henry had childishly expected Stafford to side with the Lancastrians. After all, Henry's own uncle was fighting against the Yorkist, being hunted down like a dog in the process by them. His birth father, too, had been killed by the Yorkist, widowing his wife and taking a father from a son. In Henry's innocence, he had expected Stafford to side with the Lancastrians because of all that, because of him.

But Stafford didn't.

He switched loyalties and helped in putting Edward IV back on the throne. His contribution led to the extinction of the House of Lancaster, killing all the existing males, and Henry, too, became a target alongside his uncle, who had only had freedom for a few years.

That's why Henry had to leave with Jasper. He couldn't stand looking at the face of the man who had promised him happiness, only to take it all away and betray his very existence.

With a fierce shake of his head, Henry tried to return himself to the present. His hands fisted at his side as he stormed down the corridor stairs, stopping halfway to slump against the wall. He sunk to his knees slowly, resting his pounding head against the cool stone. Images of Stafford violently flashed across his closed eyelids, increasing the pain in his head to suffocating torture. Henry pressed his palms firmly into his eye sockets in an attempt to block out everything, but he was hit by waves of nauseous instead, and his stomach churned with bile.

"Henry?" Adelaide's voice seemed to instantly calm Henry. His head shot up in desperation, turning rapidly trying to find her. He was clammy and pale, with sweat dripping down his face and, he hadn't realized it till now, but he was crying. His eyes stung and blurred as cascades of tears rolled down his cheeks. The sight startled Adelaide into running towards him. She collapsed in front of him, touching his face and shoulders and arms with shaky hands. Her piercing eyes raked over him, worry evident in every line of her face. She was looking for some sort of external injury, but when she couldn't find any blood or wound she just looked up at Henry in confusion.

"What's wrong, Henry? Are you hurt?" Before Adelaide could get anymore words out, Henry engulfed her in a hug so tight she lost her breath. Her face flushed bright red, but her stuttering and embarrassment stilled as Henry began to violently shake. Adelaide tried to pull away, to look him in the face, but his grip only tightened. He buried his head into the curve of her neck and she could feel his tears on her skin, sliding down her throat and disappearing into her shirt.

Without much hesitation, Adelaide encircled Henry with her arms, linking her fingers together. She placed her head against his, her cheek resting on the top of his hair. She squeezed him tightly which seemed to relax him, and his own grip on her receded to less of a suffocating embrace.