The front door burst open, pieces of wood splintering off the frame. In ran four massively built men, all dressed in stuffy black suits and radio pieces stuck in their ears. There was no time to hide. Even if there had been, I wouldn’t have been able to get rid of all the evidence that I was in the room. There were still rose petals everywhere, and my laptop and work was still scattered across the desk’s surface.
The bodyguards stormed the bedroom. One of them immediately tackled me and forced me to the ground. I landed hard enough to force the air out of my lungs. The man almost yanked my arms out of their sockets as he tied my wrists behind my back with thick black zip ties. My muscles and skin burned like fire where they grabbed me, using way more force than necessary.
Marina shrieked. “What are you doing? Let him go, Charles!”
The man who’d apprehended me, Charles, shook his head. He snatched me by the shoulders and forced me to my feet. “I’m sorry, Princess. I can’t do that.”
“You answer to me,” she stressed. “I command that you let him go.”
“I’m afraid my orders come from above your station, Princess.”
Marina’s lips were pressed into a thin line. “The King sent you,” she realized. “How did he know?”
“I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but a surveillance team has been watching over Mr. Sabatino and his mother for some time.”
The acid in my stomach rose up violently into my throat. I fought against my bindings, felt the hard plastic of the zip ties bite into my flesh. “You’ve been tailing me?” I hissed. “What the fuck?”
Charles’ grip on my arm tightened. His nails dug into my muscles and pierced my skin. “I received confirmation that you were the one who booked this room two minutes ago. I knew I should have inspected the floor first.”
“You’re out of your jurisdiction,” snapped Marina. “You can’t have Rodrigo arrested here. This isn’t Brooklandia.”
Charles reached into his blazer’s pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. The King’s seal was imprinted in the red wax that sealed it shut. “This is a Royal Decree the King gave to me prior to us leaving the kingdom. It says that I am allowed to act as I see fit to ensure your safety.”
“A diplomatic pardon,” I realized aloud. I’d actually learned about them in one of my introductory classes to international politics and law. They were rare, but Royal Decrees could be used in extraneous cases.
Like this one, apparently.
“No,” whimpered Marina. “No, you can’t do this. Rodrigo’s done nothing wrong. Let him go! Let him go this instant!” She started to cry in earnest, tears streaking her pale cheeks. “Let him go,” she sobbed weakly. “Please.”
It killed me that I couldn’t reach out to comfort her. Before I could even get a word in, the bodyguard dragged me away, half-naked and humiliated. My cheeks burned, and my head throbbed. What had started as a wonderful day full of promise and dreams was now dashed. Tarnished.
“Rodrigo!” she screamed after me. “I love you too. I love you.”
My heart wanted to soar at her words. It wasn’t the way I wanted to hear it, but it was going to have to do. I committed her declaration to memory, carried it with me as closely as I could. I did my best to think of happier times, refusing to let these last moments with Marina be tainted by fear and panic.
I wondered what I did in a past life to deserve this. I wondered why things couldn’t just be simple like when we were children. We used to be joined at the hip, Marina and I. Our days of exploring the palace together, playing in the gardens, studying together—did any of it even matter to these people? Did they care that they were tearing us apart? Did they care that they were hurting us?
Hurting her?
I didn’t know if I was ever going to see Marina again, but what could I do? All the fight had left my body. No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop them from dragging me away. My only wish was that Marina would stop crying. I didn’t deserve her tears.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Marina
I didn’t care if the whole palace heard me. The servants could gossip and whisper amongst themselves to their hearts’ content. I was so furious, so blindingly enraged that keeping my volume under control was the least of my worries. I was so full of rage that Mount Vesuvius had nothing on me. My head was about to blow off, and everybody in Brooklandia was at risk.
“I can’t believe you!” I shrieked, my shrill words echoing off the high ceilings of the throne room.
Father was sitting on his golden throne, Mother next to him in her slightly smaller silver one. My throne, made of intricate bronze working, had been placed off to the side. There was something incredibly weird about this whole scene, something unreal. It was like I was watching myself yell at my parents, an out of body experience brought on by my unquenchable need to scream and scream and scream.
I wondered how many people before me had found themselves in this exact same spot in this exact same room, pleading with the King. If I wasn’t so concerned with telling my parents off, I would have found it fascinating the number of verdicts and bargains that were struck in the very place in which I stood. There was so much history in this room, so much protocol and tradition and power.
And it was that exact power that I was fighting against.
I glared at the both of them, clenching my jaw so tight I was scared my teeth would crack from the pressure. “Release Rodrigo now.”
My father took a deep breath and stared at me down the length of his nose. He raised his chin slightly to accentuate the darkness of his frown. The man sitting before me wasn’t Father. With his shoulders pulled back and chest puffed out, the man before me was the King.
“Watch your mouth,” he hissed at me. “How dare you try to give me orders.”
“Rodrigo had nothing to do with the revolt,” I insisted. “You know he didn’t.”
Mother shook her head. She felt colder, closed off. Warmth and love normally radiated off of her. But now, we were better off as strangers. Mother could barely look me in the eye as she said, “You have no proof of that. He could be plotting to use you against us.”
“Are you even hearing the things coming out of your mouths? You know Rodrigo. We grew up together. He’d never do something like that!”
“He’s only getting close to you to get to me,” boomed the King. “Are you that naïve? Or are you really that stupid?”
“I’m not stupid, but you two definitely are if you think–”
The King brought his fist down on the throne’s armrest, the violent slap of his skin against the wood reverberating through the hall. “Quiet!” he seethed. Fury seeped out of every one of his pores, venom leaked out of his eyes and dripped of his tongue. “My word is final. Rodrigo will remain in prison until his innocence can be proven. I’ve already ordered a thorough investigation.”
“That could take months,” I protested. “Meanwhile, you’ll have him rot behind bars!”
“I am doing what is best for the kingdom.”
“You’re doing what’s best for you.”
“Marina,” warned my mother, “enough of this. Go back to your room.”
“I’m not a child anymore. I’m twenty-two years old, for fuck’s sake. You can’t tell me what to do!”
“Stop!” the King bellowed. “I won’t hear another word. Leave immediately.”
“Or what?”
“I’ll have you physically removed.”
I shook my head, bitter and fuming. “You two are disgusting, you know that?”
Mother’s mouth dropped open in dismay. “Marina, you can’t–”
“Stop trying to control me and my life,” I grumbled. “I’m my own woman, and I will make my own decisions even if you don’t approve. I love Rodrigo, and you two are the reason why I can’t be with him. This stupid thing between you and the Sabatinos has to stop. It’s not healthy. Are we going to live the rest of our lives hating one another? Is that it?”
“Marina,” Moth
er sighed, “Senator Sabatino tried to throw a coup. That can’t go unpunished.”
“He ran me through with a knife,” reminded the King. “He’s lucky I haven’t decided to execute him yet.”
“And why is that?” I challenged. “If you hate him so much, why don’t you just hurry up and put him out of his misery instead of wasting the taxpayers’ dollar on his cell upkeep?”
He paused, the tendons in his face tensing as he set his jaw.
“I’ll tell you why,” I continued. “It’s because, once upon a time, you two used to be friends. I really have to wonder if you’re doing this out of spite, or some other incredibly dumb reason. Did he hurt your pride, Father? Are you embarrassed that he managed to convince your people to turn on you? Are you secretly ashamed that you’ve dropped the ball and now you’re trying to save face? The people are still suffering, by the way. You haven’t exactly done anything in the last couple of years to help the poor or increase employment rates.”
The King was stunned silent.
Looks like I hit the nail on the head.
Mother tried to swoop in to defend him. “You… You were the one who tricked us. You said you were going on vacation when you were actually cavorting with the enemy.”
I scoffed. “‘Cavorting?’ Seriously? You want to pin the blame on me? Why don’t you have me arrested, then?”
“You’re being ridiculous, Marina,” Father huffed.
“Am I?” I shook my head. “I’m leaving.”
Mother rose from her seat, visibly shaking with rage. “And where exactly do you think you’re leaving to, young lady?”
I turned on my heel and started away. I wasn’t going to answer them. I was so done. Politics and power had twisted my parents’ views of the world, changed who they were. A lifetime ago, our families were closer than ever. It was truly remarkable and horrendous what time and distance could do.
~
Togveld Fortress wasn’t exactly a fortress. Not anymore. Centuries ago, it stood as the militaristic pride of Brooklandia. The Royal Family actually used to call Togveld Fortress their home, members of the aristocracy having been housed in the many rooms and wings made of cold grey stone. Now, all that remained of the original structure was the guard’s tower. After numerous sieges and tumultuous weather, it was the only thing to survive. A more modern correctional facility had been constructed around the tower, the tall brick building hosting rows upon rows of highly-secured prison cells.
I had to argue with the warden. He was a stumpy old man with a head so bald he reminded me of an egg. He was sweating profusely when he came to greet me at Togveld Fortress’ iron gates. I thought perhaps that he was nervous to meet me, but soon learned that he was just naturally greasy. There was a disheveled look about him, and the food stains on his cheap grey tie did little to calm my nerves. The facility appeared rundown and filthy. A thick layer of dust covered every surface, the awful stench of piss and old food left the air heavy and damp, and several hallways were dim from lack of proper lighting.
“W-we really weren’t expecting you,” he stuttered. “I’m afraid all of our inmates have already returned to their cells for the day.”
“I only need to speak with the one. Can’t an exception be made?”
The warden rubbed his hands together anxiously. “Princess Marina, I’m afraid that–”
“I only need five minutes. I’m sure that’s not a problem, is it?”
“It’s an issue of your personal security, Princess. I don’t feel comfortable having you and the inmate–”
“Stop calling him that,” I snapped. “Rodrigo hasn’t formally been charged with anything.” The warden swallowed and shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. He was about to open his mouth to say something, but I cut him off before he had the chance. “I want to speak with Rodrigo.”
With a sigh, the warden nodded. “Very well, Princess. It’ll take me a few minutes to arrange a safe meeting space for you.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “That’s fine. I’ll wait.”
It took almost half an hour for the warden to arrange a private visiting room. I would chalk it up to incompetence, but I wasn’t here to rate his work performance. I was here to see Rodrigo for the first time since he was detained. The little room they had me waiting in was stuffy and hot, like the inside of an oven. The chair that I sat in wobbled, and the table before me was sticky and grimy. I tried my best not to think about when this room was last properly cleaned.
The narrow door to the room opened, creaking on its rusty hinges. Two guards guided Rodrigo in, one standing out front while the other followed from behind.
My heart twisted in my chest when I saw him.
Rodrigo was dressed in a bright fluorescent orange one-piece uniform, hands bound together before him in a pair of silver handcuffs. He looked incredibly tired, dark circles and heavy bags beneath his eyes. His knuckles were a dull red, the skin there cracked and dry. There was a faded purple bruise resting upon his upper left cheekbone. Had he been fighting? Were the guards here treating him well? I had so many desperate questions I wanted to ask, but so little time.
“Marina?” He blinked in surprise as he entered. “What are you doing here?” Rodrigo moved like he was going to throw his arms around me and pull me into a tight embrace, but the guard behind him kept him from walking forward with a stiff hand on Rodrigo’s shoulder.
“No touching,” the guard barked.
Dejected, Rodrigo sat across from me. The handcuffs around his wrists looked unbearably tight.
“I wanted to see you,” I said softly. “How are you doing? You doing okay? I know that’s probably a stupid question, but I still wanted to ask. How did you get that bruise? You look a little thin, have you been eating properly?”
Rodrigo forced a smile. It was pained and small and so not what I needed to see. “Marina, you shouldn’t be here. How did you even get the King’s permission to come visit?”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s a whole other story. I snuck away from my guards and took one of their cars.”
He grimaced. “I pity everyone out on the roads today then.”
I sighed, partially in relief. It was an attempt at humor. A poor one, but at least Rodrigo still sounded like himself.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” I said, determined. “I don’t know how yet, but I will.”
“Marina…” He whispered my name, allowed it to roll off his tongue. I always liked the way he pronounced my name, treated it like a sacred hymn. Conflict clouded his pretty blue eyes. “You don’t have to do that,” he said.
“Of course, I do.”
“I’m not worth the trouble.”
I shook my head. “Yes, you are. I’m not going to let this stand. I’m going to get you out of here, even if–”
“Even if it puts you at odds with your family?”
“Yes.”
Rodrigo cast his eyes down at the floor and refused to look at me. “I love you, Marina.”
“I love you too.”
“But I don’t–”
“Stop,” I pleaded. “Whatever it is you’re about to say, stop.”
“I’ve had a lot of time to think in here.”
“You’ve been in here for less than a week.”
“And that week could very well be another month. It could turn into a year.”
“I’m not going to let that happen.”
“But if it does,” he grumbled. “If the King is determined to keep me from you, he’ll find a way to do it.”
“Then I’ll visit you every day.”
Pain flashed across Rodrigo’s handsome face. “That’s not what I want for you. I love you, Marina.”
“I know you do. Stop talking to me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re trying to get me to leave.” I sobbed. “Why does it sound like you’re trying to say goodbye? Just stop, okay?”
Panic was setting in, seeping into my bloodstream, and bakin
g itself into my bone marrow. Why did I have this sinking feeling? How did I know that Rodrigo was about to push me away? Why could I feel it coming in my gut?
“It’s too hard, Marina.”
My shoulders shook as a chill snaked its way up my spine. “No. Stop it, Rodrigo.”
“If we stay together, I’m only going to drag you down.”
“What about all that talk about running away together?”
“I know. I wasn’t thinking straight. Brooklandia would be losing their future Queen. Things are already so turbulent back home. A struggle for succession would make things worse for the people.”
“I don’t care. I want to be with you.”
“I’d be taking you away from your mother and father. They’d really hate me after that.”
Heavy tears betrayed my eyes, dropping from my lashes onto my lap. “Rodrigo, I can’t– You’re not doing this.”
“I love you. Which is why I want you to leave me.”
“No. No, I’m not going to. What about all those notes you wrote me? All that effort you put into seeing me again? You want to fight for me, I know you do. If you really do love me, you won’t push me away.”
Rodrigo swallowed. His face hardened. He was suddenly unreadable, distant. Rising slowly from his seat, he turned to one of the guards. “I’d like to go back now. I won’t accept any more visits from the Princess.”
I stood rapidly. “Rodrigo, wait! Don’t–”
The silence he left behind rang loudly in my ears. I felt sick. My stomach was churning, and my chest felt tight. I was simultaneously cold and overheating in this oven of a room. The overwhelming urge to throw up consumed me. I placed a hand on my stomach, tried to soothe the uneasiness away.
Maybe things weren’t going to work out after all.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Rodrigo
The prison guards rudely awoke me by clanging their metal batons against the bars of my cell. I sat up immediately, heart pounding hard in my chest. There was no way to figure out what time it was. My cell had no windows, so I couldn’t judge the time of day by the position of the sun or the moon. The first round of wakeup calls hadn’t sounded over the PA system yet. Considering how quiet everything was, it was safe to assume that it was pretty early in the morning.
Royal Holiday Page 14
