Impervious

        Chancellor Beaumont buttoned his doublet as he bowed before the queen.  She’d sent for him in the middle of the night, once again. “I came as quickly as I could, Your Majesty.”

        “You prig. Go to hell.”

        “As you wish, Your Majesty.” Impervious to her abuse, he spun on his heel and started for the door.

        “Come back, idiot. I need your help.”

        His smirk turned into a confident smile. “I’m at your service, my queen.”

        She glared at him. “The king has taken a mistress. Did you know that?”

        Chancellor Beaumont nodded. “The rascal.”

        “What poisons do you have?”

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