Alexander's Revenge

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Having once again tested the loyalty of his 'Family', Father Alexander sought pleasure with 'Mother' Mary de Lacy. Upon entering their bedroom, the priest approached his mistress, his heart filled with desire. "At last, we are alone," he whispered, besotted, his thin lips baptising her with passionate kisses. However, this time, Mary seemed aloof, uninterested. "Xan, please!" she whispered harshly, pulling herself from his grasp. "Not here. Not now!" She turned away, her back to her lover. Gathering her fiery locks in her hands, Mary pulled her luxuriant mane from her back and over her shoulder. It was obvious that she was in no mood for love. "Mary?" Alexander asked, injured. "What's wrong?" He reached for her arm, in hopes of prying from her the reasons for her disinterest. "Have I done something wrong?" he persisted, gently, worriedly. "Please, tell me what has upset you." He continued, "Whatever it is, I should like to make it up to you. I love you, Mary! I'd do anyth-" Quick as a flash, with her arctic eyes now bright red, Mary forced herself to her feet. Freeing herself from his grasp, she turned to him, her hands on her hips. "You're just like any other man!" she hissed, her eyes still flashing hell-fire. "All sex and ego and nothing else!" Inflecting dramatically, she spat the words at him, her temper rising. Alexander stared at her, crestfallen. Shocked by the sudden turn in events, he sputtered, "Mary?" What had happened, to offend her so? She had always been so calm, so stoic. The Mary he knew was gone. Now, a complete stranger stood there, in her place! Regaining his composure once more, he asked, "What's wrong, Mary? You're not yourself, this evening." "No, I'm not!" she cried, unflinching, stamping her foot in... ... middle of paper ... ...ond drawer right side up and placed the letters inside. Then, reaching for her crumpled clothing, she made a dart for the pitcher and bowl set out for bathing. As she cleaned herself up, washing away the shame, she kept an eye out for Alexander. She now knew better, than to test him. Once she had dressed, powdered her nose and styled her hair, Mary hesitantly made her way out of their room. She was horrified to hear his voice behind her – along with those of his deacon and bodyguards – the latter being the same men he had employed, years earlier, to murder Sir John! “Ring the bells!” the smiling priest ordered the young deacon, in his usual forthright manner. “It’s time for Mass!” Mary’s heart skipped a beat, as Alexander turned to the other four. “Make sure Mother doesn’t get away, my sons,” he told them, calmly. “She’s to be made an example of, this evening…”
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