The Prince of Warwood and the Fall of the King (Book 2)

by J. Noel Clinton

  Xavier hesitated. He looked at Maggie, who stood silently watching the tense confrontation with wide, alarmed eyes. He turned back to his father’s stony expression.

  “We’re going home, aren’t we?” he whispered.

  Jeremiah nodded, his face unfaltering. “Yes.”

  Xavier sighed dejectedly. “Dad, please! One last dance and then I’ll go without an argument or creating a scene. Please?” he pleaded.

  Jeremiah’s expression wavered and he nodded. “Okay, one dance.”

  Releasing a tense breath, Xavier squeezed Maggie’s hand and took her to the dance floor just as an up-beat song ended. Xavier was pleased that the following tune was a slow rhythm; he wanted nothing more than to be as close as possible to Maggie for their last dance. They swayed across the floor, looking only at one another. When Maggie gave him a small smile, Xavier couldn’t resist the urge to enter her thoughts. Even as he pulled her close and concentrated on connecting with her, he knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “Please, kiss me, please, kiss me, please, kiss me!” her thoughts echoed into his mind.

  Xavier grinned down at her, and she unsuspectingly batted her eyelashes at him and smiled back. As he brushed his lips against hers, he heard her inhale sharply. He withdrew and looked down at her questioningly. She looked up at him shyly, and he heard her pleading thoughts, “Oh, don’t stop, my sweet prince. Lord! He’s so cute! Please, kiss me again.”

  Of course, she didn’t know he was invading her thoughts and he had no intention of telling her. When he kissed her again, he nearly burst into laughter at her next thoughts.

  “Oh, this has to be what heaven’s like! I could die now and be happy.”

  Xavier continued dancing with Maggie and listening to her thoughts about him. She wondered if Xavier found her pretty. She wondered if he liked her as much as she liked him. Although it was nice to know that she worried about that too, Xavier didn’t understand why! Surely, she knew he liked her! After all, she could transform him into a stumbling, bumbling idiot with the smallest of smiles. Then when Maggie’s thoughts turned bold, Xavier was stunned and he blushed. But then he guessed that even girls had the same kinds of thoughts as boys at times, and he smiled at the thought.

  The dance ended much too soon, and they walked off the dance floor. Without a word, Xavier and Maggie followed Jeremiah and Catherine down the path. Xavier took Maggie by the hand and slowed their pace so they lagged a few yards behind the adults.

  “I’m sorry, Maggie. If I had kept my cool, we wouldn’t be leaving early,” he whispered.

  “That’s okay. I was getting tired anyway,” she told him. He knew it was a lie, but he was thankful for it all the same. “Xavier,” Maggie began hesitantly, “maybe you should try telling your father about Madam Stokes. Maybe if you told him what she does that’s suspicious…”

  “He wouldn’t believe me!” Xavier interrupted.

  “Well, I think you should still try.”

  The children continued down the pathway in silence. When they reached the sleigh, Jeremiah turned to Maggie. “Maggie, Madam Stokes will take you home in the sleigh.”

  “Thank you, sire,” she replied and turned back to Xavier. “Goodnight, Xavier,” she whispered, kissing him quickly on the cheek.

  “Goodnight,” he muttered, and stood back as Jeremiah lifted her into the sleigh next to Catherine. Father and son watched the sleigh glide away into the darkness.

  “Let’s go, son,” Jeremiah instructed squeezing his shoulder.

  Father and son walked away from the Wood and passed the coliseum without a word to one another. After such an intoxicating dance with Maggie, Xavier was quite certain nothing could upset him now. He beamed into the cold night air.

  Jeremiah caught the blissful smile on his son’s face and shook his head, chuckling. “You really like that girl, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” he responded wistfully. “I really do.”

  “Son, I’m sorry that my dating Catherine bothers you. I know you might not understand this completely, but she makes me feel alive again. When your mom died, a piece of me died. Catherine makes me laugh; she makes me feel like a man. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

  “No, not really,” he mumbled. “Dad, I really don’t want to talk about this now. Please!”

  “We need to talk about this some time, Xavier,” his father told him. “But, we’ll save it for another day.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” Xavier breathed a sigh of relief.

  “There is something else I think we ought to discuss. Do you…has anyone…I mean…” Jeremiah gave a frustrated groan that made Xavier peer up at him puzzled. Jeremiah rubbed his jaw nervously.

  “What?” Xavier asked, stopping.

  Jeremiah turned and faced him. “Well, what do you know about sex?” Jeremiah asked.

  Xavier nearly choked. “Oh, no!” he laughed nervously. “Dad!” he whined and started to walk away, but Jeremiah stopped him.

  “I’m serious, Xavier. Did your mother talk to you about it? Your grandfather?”

  “Are you kidding? Does Grandfather look the type to have a sex talk with his freaky grandson?” he blurted, still laughing nervously.

  Jeremiah gave him a reproving look. “Xavier, did anyone talk to you about sex?”

  “Well, no, but I’ve heard things from friends,” Xavier answered anxiously. He really didn’t want to discuss this right now. “I know enough about it. Really! You don’t need to do this. Please, don’t do this.”

  “Your friends? Well, that’s like the blind leading the blind!” his father muttered. “Yes, son, I need to do this.”

  Xavier realized there was no way he would be able to worm out of it so he just gave in. By the time they reached the palace, Jeremiah had covered all the bases from gentlemen’s etiquette, to how to treat women, to safe sex and especially abstinence, and then to marriage. As embarrassing as it was to listen to this frank lecture, Xavier actually learned something and found that some of the things his friends had told him were completely wrong.

  An uncomfortable silence fell between father and son as they climbed the steps and entered the royal residence. Jeremiah led Xavier up to his room, closing the door behind them. Pulling at his tie, Jeremiah finally asked, “Do you have any questions?”

  Xavier sat on his bed and looked up at him shyly. “Ah, yeah, just one for now. What’s third base?”

  Chapter 13

  Lover’s Quarrel

  Jeremiah didn’t bring up Xavier’s behavior at the dance again. He was quite certain he knew why Xavier had acted the way he did. For some reason, the boy felt threatened by Catherine. So Jeremiah took the day following Old Christmas off and spent it with Xavier playing games, talking, and simply goofing off.

  “You can’t move a bishop like that!” Xavier laughed after his father tried to move the black chess piece horizontally instead of diagonally.

  “What do you mean?” Jeremiah asked angelically.

  “Dad! Stop it!” he yelled, moving his father’s bishop back. “You know, it’s a very sad day in the kingdom when the king has to resort to cheating to beat his twelve-year-old son!”

  “Sad day, huh? I’ll show you a sad day, you pompous little prince,” his father roared, lunging at him and scattering the game from the coffee table as they tumbled onto the floor. “How dare you question your father!” He laughed, pinning Xavier to the floor and tickling him relentlessly.

  He tried to push his father off, but his massive body was too heavy and his grip too strong. In the end, Xavier was helpless and couldn’t do anything but endure the giggling torture.

  At lunchtime, Xavier sat on a stool in the kitchen as his father prepared two grilled salmon filets and wild grain rice. Jeremiah wasn’t a bad cook if you didn’t mind over-cooked, dried-out fish, and undercooked crunchy rice. Throughout dinner, Xavier stifled the aching need to rib him about it, until finally he couldn’t contain himself any longer.

  “Mmm, t
his is really good, Dad,” he noted sarcastically, barely able to contain his laughter.

  Jeremiah eyed him mirthfully and replied slowly, “Thank you, son.”

  “You’re welcome.” Xavier snickered. After a moment of them both eating quietly, Xavier blurted out, “I had always thought that rice was supposed to be soft and tender, but raw, crunchy rice is sooo much better.”

  “Well, that just goes to show you, you don’t know anything about cooking. If you overcook rice, it cooks away all the nutrients,” he retorted smugly, ignoring Xavier’s sarcasm.

  Xavier burst into laughter, and Jeremiah fought back a smile as he gave him a stern glare. Finally, with his stomach aching and tears running down his cheeks, he coughed out, “Dad? Could I have more water? Maybe Milton could drag in the water hose. I’m gonna need a ton of water to wash down this salmon. It’s as dry as old shoe leather and about as tasty, too.”

  “All right! That’s enough!” Jeremiah roared, jumping to his feet and lunging at the boy. Laughing, Xavier dove under the table and quickly crawled to the other side. Jeremiah chased him in circles around the table until Xavier finally bolted out of the room, but he was laughing too hard to run very fast. Jeremiah caught him easily and flung him over his shoulder like a sack.

  “Put me down!” Xavier squealed, hardly able to breathe past his laughter.

  “No, sir,” Jeremiah scolded as he crossed the room toward the sofa. “You have a major beating coming followed by relentless tickling!”

  “NOOOO!” Xavier yelled as Jeremiah tumbled onto the sofa with him. Suddenly the door burst open and Loren stood poised and very serious in the doorway. His expression only increased the hysteria of Xavier’s laughter.

  Loren relaxed considerably at the sight of father and son. “What are you doing to that poor boy, sire?” he teased.

  “I’m preparing to beat him. Can you believe he had the audacity to ridicule my cooking?” Jeremiah demanded, mocking an injured ego.

  Loren crossed the room and looked down at Xavier, who was fighting to breathe past his laughter. “I can’t imagine anyone NOT ridiculing your cooking; it’s usually a biohazard. In fact, I’m surprised the health department hasn’t arrested you yet!”

  Loren’s comment sent Xavier howling with laughter again. Jeremiah jumped to his feet and lunged at his friend, tackling him to the floor with a loud thud. Xavier jumped to his feet, bellowed a primitive Tarzan-type yell, and jumped on top of the romping men. The shouts and banter as well as the thumps and thuds drew the remaining Royal Guard into the room looking tense; even Ephraim, who was off duty, came running into the residence. Once they found the rolling tangle of Loren, Jeremiah, and Xavier, the group chuckled dismissively.

  Ephraim approached them, shaking his head. “You know, it’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt. Now, Loren, Xavier, you two stop messing about before you hurt poor little Jeremy.”

  “Jeremy?” Jeremiah growled as he reached out, grabbed Ephraim by the ankle, and hauled him into the brawl. In the end, half a dozen guards were dragged into the ruckus.

  That night, Xavier didn’t want the day to end, and he tried coaxing his father into letting him stay up late.

  “Come on, Dad! There’s no school until Monday. Can’t I stay up until you go to bed?” he begged.

  “No, son, but if you’d like, you can sleep in my bed tonight.”

  Xavier, nodded sulkily and moments later, he was tucked into his father’s massive king-sized bed.

  “Goodnight, son,” Jeremiah said, kissing his forehead.

  “Dad? Today was really fun. Thanks…” Xavier mumbled, already feeling himself slipping into sleep.

  “Thanks? Thanks for what?” Jeremiah whispered.

  “Thanks for taking the day off and spending it with me. Thanks…thanks for being my dad.” His eyes were already flickering shut.

  “Oh, you’re welcome, son. Thanks for being my son,” he replied, stroking Xavier’s head.

  Xavier was asleep before Jeremiah turned off the light and closed the door.

  That night, Xavier dreamt of the Center Square again. The eerily silent crowd surrounded him. Jeremiah was on the ground, his hair drenched with sweat and his back bloody. His entire body shimmied with strain and exhaustion as he struggled to his feet, only to topple over again.

  Father O’Brien leered down at the king as if he were something vile and disgusting. “You have fallen from God’s Grace, Jeremiah. You have tainted the throne. You have fallen from grace in your subjects’ eyes. You should be ashamed. Your father would be…”

  “Do not presume to tell me what my father would have thought of this entire situation, O’Brien!” Jeremiah bellowed with surprising force that Xavier wouldn’t have thought possible. Slowly, with every ounce of his strength and with his arms quivering violently under the strain, Jeremiah pulled himself to his feet and glowered up at the priest. “My father believed in the absolute power of the monarch. He would not have allowed this to happen to himself. If you think back, O’Brien, this addition to the Codes was my doing! I proposed and lobbied for this amendment to prevent the mistakes and dangers of the past from being repeated! Therefore, Father, you have no authority to preach to me on such matters. Now, Loren, Ephraim, continue!”

  But, Ephraim and Loren shook their heads, their faces pale.

  “Hardcastle, Jefferson!” Jeremiah growled. “I just gave you an order!”

  Loren approached him in a stumbling daze. Then, with a strangled groan, he raised his arm and struck Jeremiah, who fell heavily to the ground. Xavier fought vainly against the hands holding him.

  “Stop! Stop it!” he sobbed. “Please!” he bellowed. “Father O’Brien, stop it. Please let them stop! Please!” But the only response he received to his pleads was a sadistic grin from Catherine Stokes.

  Xavier sat up in bed moaning. “No!”

  Suddenly, there was a flash of light and a loud crack that sounded like a shotgun. Xavier screamed. A large pair of arms enveloped him, pulling him back into the warm bed, and his father’s soothing voice whispered, “Sh! It’s just a storm.”

  Xavier shuddered against the fear mounting inside him that had nothing to do with the storm outside. “Dad! I had the dream again, the one where you’re getting beaten bloody by Loren and Ephraim. I’m telling you I think it’s trying to warn me!”

  “Xavier,” his father replied tersely. “It was just a dream. Ephraim and Loren…”

  “Would never do that, yeah, I know. But, dad, listen to me!” He wiggled out of his father’s arms and sat up. “In the dream, or vision, or whatever it was, you ordered them to do it. They weren’t betraying you; they were following your orders!”

  “What?” Jeremiah demanded, flicking on the bedside lamp and blinking down at his son. “Xavier, what are you talking about?”

  “You ordered them to do it, Dad! Why would you do something like that? Why would you tell your closest friends to beat you?” he begged, on the verge of tears.

  Jeremiah looked down at him with an unreadable expression. Finally he smiled, though the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and he patted Xavier on the head. “Don’t worry about it, son.”

  “But, Dad!” he gasped.

  “Xavier, just forget about it. It was just a dream,” Jeremiah insisted, his voice a bit edgy.

  Xavier nodded, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to just forget about it.

  School was back in session the following Monday and Xavier was anxious to see Maggie again. He pushed past his friends and hurried up the walkway to the main entrance of the academy until he finally saw her. She stood at the top of the steps, talking to her friends and smiling. Xavier’s mind drifted to her, and he eavesdropped on her conversation with her friends.

  “So?” one of her friends prompted. “Did you have a good time at the dance with Prince Xavier?”

  He saw Maggie’s smile broaden before he heard her respond, “I had a wonderful time.”

  “I saw you two dancing. Man, that boy can
move!” another girl commented with a giggle as she imitated a dance move.

  “Well, didn’t you watch his father at all?” the first girl responded. “Obviously, it runs in the family. And speaking of his father, did you see him plant one on Madam Stokes!”

  The other girls made groans of longing. Maggie, however, didn’t comment.

  “Yeah, it was so romantic!” one of the girls cooed.

  “So, Maggie, does Xavier kiss like that?” another girl asked.

  “I’ve never kissed the king, so how would I know that?” she responded, but her friends weren’t going to let her off the hook that easily.

  “Oh, come on! You know what I mean! Is the prince a good kisser?”

  Maggie grinned and shrugged.

  Xavier didn’t need his telepathy abilities to hear the girls’ reactions. A loud collective, “Ooooo!” attracted the attention of everyone around them. Maggie scanned the staring crowd and found Xavier watching her.

  “Xavier? Are you using your telepathic abilities again?” she chastised as she directed her thoughts toward him, smiling.

  He beamed at her innocently and shook his head no.

  She laughed and her friends looked at her questioningly. “Then, dear prince, how is it that you knew to answer me?” she asked.

  Xavier laughed and shrugged. “Okay, busted,” he responded telepathically. “But, won’t Headmaster Spencer be so proud that I practiced over the holiday break?”

  She laughed again and her friends followed her gaze to Xavier. He smiled and waved innocently at them, and again, the group of girls squealed.

  “You’re such a ladies’ man,” Court announced, stepping up beside Xavier.

  He turned to his friend, grinning, “If the shoe fits…”

  “And modest too!” Court laughed as the boys climbed the stairs and entered the school. Xavier threw a wink at Maggie, who blushed. “I heard you left early, or rather, you were made to leave early from the dance. What happened, mate?” Court asked him.

  “Oh, God.” Xavier groaned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t ask!”