by C. J. Pinard
Looking furious, Alexander looked at Daniel and Shawna. “Get him out of there, and then fill up this damn hole!”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Daniel replied gleefully.
Enraged, distraught, and most of all embarrassed that his staff had been treated this way for two years, Alexander barely held it together as he stormed out of the servants’ quarters and practically sprinted up toward the stairs leading to the turret.
When his foot hit the bottom stair, Mariselle caught up with him. “I was just heading up to see you.” She smiled, but then her smile faded when she saw what he was wearing. “Joining the monastery, are you?”
He turned to look at her with his face stormy.
Alarmed, she gasped and reached out to touch him. “Alexander, oh, my God. What’s wrong?”
He flinched away. “Fetch Zackary and tell him to meet me in the solar room immediately.”
Hurt that he’d talked to her like that, and fearful they were fighting again, Mariselle dared asked, “Why?”
“Just do it, Mariselle! Please!” he roared, and then sprinted up the steps toward the top floor, disappearing up the spiral staircase.
With her bottom lip trembling, Mariselle nodded and ran through the halls, out through the courtyard, and across the field to the stables.
Once she arrived at the stables, Mariselle frowned at what she saw. Zackary stood against a stall with his arm propped up on the edge of it, a piece of straw hanging from his mouth. She followed his line of sight to see Emily bent over, trying to re-shoe a horse named… she looked at the nametag… Buttercup.
Emily’s ass was in the air while on her knees, fighting with the stubborn horse. “You need some help, darlin’?” Zackary asked with amusement in his eyes.
She looked up at him and smiled flirtatiously. “I think I got this, Your Majesty. But I may require some help a little bit… later.”
Chuckling, Zackary continued to stare, and Mariselle became jealous.
“Zack! Your brother needs you!”
Both heads whipped in Mariselle’s direction. Emily frowned. Zackary grinned wide, the straw dangling from the corner of his perfect lips.
“Zack?” he asked, his eyebrow raised, still smiling.
“My apologies, Your Majesty—“she inclined her head ever so slightly—“but Alexander needs you. Immediately.”
Zackary’s countenance fell and he threw the straw to the ground. “Lead the way.”
Without a glance back, the two ran across the fields, and Mariselle could swear she heard Emily huff in annoyance.
She smiled.
Chapter 17
“What is it, brother?” Zackary asked, winded, as he and Mariselle burst through the door to the solar room. Two armored knights whipped their heads in their direction at the sudden appearance.
“Sit, both of you,” Alexander commanded. He now wore his royal robes once more.
Zackary rubbed his chin and then jutted it in his brother’s direction. “Smooth as a baby’s butt, is it?”
Mariselle had also noticed that Alexander had shaved, but given his mood, she dare not say a word, even if she did think he looked super sexy.
“I’ve just fired Lord”—he cleared his throat—“make that just Henry.”
Zackary and Mariselle gasped.
“Why did you do that? I thought he was a good bloke. Kept the staff tip-top.” Zackary stared at his brother, but knew Henry was no good. He’d heard the murmurings.
“Yes, by using abuse and violence. I witnessed it myself earlier. It had, apparently, been going on for a couple of years. Nobody told me.” He scrubbed a hand along his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. “Why didn’t somebody tell me?” The king, looking defeated, slumped down onto the bench opposite Zackary and Mariselle.
She got up and went around to him. “Nobody knew, Alex.” His head whipped up and he looked at her. Ignoring the look, she continued, “I only just found out myself. I snuck down and saw what Henry was doing. That’s why I told you earlier. I’m glad you caught him. He was a really bad man.”
With his head in his hands, Alexander looked at the ground. “I can’t believe my staff were treated that way. I never wanted to be that king. I want my staff to be hard workers, but happy, too. I don’t want slaves, I want employees.”
“Well, that’s not how Henry saw it, apparently,” Mariselle replied, rubbing his back. “I’m sorry.”
The king huffed out a breath and looked at her. “Did Shawna know?”
She nodded slowly, carefully choosing her words. “Yes, and, as far as I know, she couldn’t say anything. Henry ruled with fear. Beatings, verbal abuse… I caught him trying to burn Lewis’s hand on a lamp for stealing food. Although he hadn’t stolen, he had just taken uneaten table scraps to his wife—who’s very sick, by the way.”
Alexander stood, causing Mariselle to flinch. He looked at her. “Bring the wife to me, and have Lord Tyson summon a doctor for her. This is ridiculous. So ridiculous.” He sighed, shaking his head.
“Yes, sir.” She hurriedly left the room.
Alexander looked at his brother. “Once we determine she isn’t pregnant, please take her with you to the West Haven. I now have to find a new staff governor, and try to repair the damage that dick Henry has done, and then oversee his public execution. I don’t want her here for that. We will discuss at a future date what will be done with her in the long term.”
Zackary felt excited at the thought, but reined it in. “Alex, is that what she wants? Mariselle said herself she would like to stay another month here if she gets another monthly. Maybe we should ask her?”
“You can,” he replied, his heart feeling like it might break, but trying to put on a brave front, “but she’s going.” He shook his head and swallowed hard. “This country is in dire straits. She’s our only hope. We all have to pray to whatever god is listening and just try to break this goddamn curse.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Zackary replied on a sigh.
A week later, King Alexander stared down at the woman resting peacefully in one of the empty chambers. A young man whose name he’d learned was Lewis, and who was not much older than his 25 years, sat next to her, holding her hand.
“Is she going to live?” Alexander asked the doctor as they exited the room.
The old doctor, Amos Witson, whom he had known his whole life, and had been treated by as a boy himself, nodded. “Yes, I believe she’s got some kind of infection in her gut. I’ve given her some medicine that will get rid of it.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, squeezing the doctor’s hand. “How’s Margaret doing?”
The old doctor smiled, his wizened face wrinkling further. He stared at the young king with cloudy green eyes. “She’s still a feisty old bird. Still bossing me around and trying to poison me with her god-awful cooking.” He cackled and Alexander laughed with him.
As he walked him to the front of the palace where a horse and carriage awaited, Alexander said, “Give her my love. And tell my brother I said hello.”
Doctor Witson’s smile faded. “Griffin misses you, you know. He seems lonely, too. No special lady in his life since that sour-faced wench left him and went back to Baristara.”
“I know,” Alexander whispered. “But we’ve got a young lady who might be our last hope in getting an heir.”
The doctor nodded. “I’ve heard about Miss Langer. The whole land knows. We are hoping beyond hope that she can break the curse. I’d like some damn grandchildren before I kick the bucket, ya know.”
Alexander laughed. “You’re not gonna kick the bucket anytime soon. And we Rothhavens are working on it.”
With a manly embrace, the doctor departed, and Alexander closed the front door and wandered up to Mariselle’s chambers. Shawna was there, helping her pack. Seeing the king enter, she bowed. “Your Majesty.”
“Hello, Shawna. Is she almost ready to go?” He looked at Mariselle and their eyes met. Hers were sad, and he was sure his reflected the same.
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“She is.”
“Why can’t we all live in one castle?” Mariselle asked, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “Why must we be separated? I love you. I love Griffin. And I know I’m falling in love with Zackary. Heck, I even love Mathias, and I haven’t seen him since we were children. I can’t bear to be separated from you all.”
Shawna wrapped her arm around the young redhead and laid her head on top of hers. “It must be this way. I know the pressure on you must be great, but the country has renewed hope now because of you. Surely you understand this?”
Mariselle nodded and sucked in a deep breath. She looked at Alexander. “Thank you for letting Shawna come with me. And thank you for getting her husband and son moved to the West Haven. They should have never been separated.”
“Yes, thank you again and again. I will always be in your debt.” Shawna curtseyed with a smile at the young king.
Alexander nodded at Shawna and then walked up to Mariselle. He put his arms around her.
“I’ll be waiting by the carriage, miss… er, I mean, Mariselle.” Shawna smiled at her and then left, closing the door behind her.
“Believe me when I say, it wasn’t easy. Griffin wasn’t very reluctant to give up his prized chef. I had to negotiate. He agreed to only let Oscar go once he trained a protégé who was just as good. So it may be a couple of months before Oscar arrives, but they will be reunited soon.”
Mariselle reached up and touched his face. “And what of their son?”
He sighed, but bit back a smile. “Him too. He’s quite the warrior. Griffin didn’t want to give him up, either.”
She leaned up on tip-toe and planted a kiss to his lips. She meant it as a peck, like a thank-you, but Alexander captured her mouth in his and deepened the kiss. Before long, their tongues were mingling and she was thrusting her hips into his.
Breaking the kiss, Alexander looked at her, then to her bed, then back to her. “Are you still on your… your… you know.”
She rolled her eyes. “My period. Yes. Unfortunately.”
Alexander swore under his breath. “Well, I guess if you weren’t, I’d have made you late.” He glanced at the window. “It will take a whole day to travel to the West Haven, so no need to waste any more daylight.”
Nodding sadly, Mariselle removed herself from his embrace and looked around the room. It seemed her bags and personal effects had already been taken down. She would miss this room and its view of the stables.
“Walk me to the carriage?” she asked the king, batting her eyelashes.
“Of course.”
Grabbing her hand and kissing it, he led her out of the room, down the stairs, and outside.
Once they reached the carriage, Alexander leaned down and kissed her with everything he had. “I’m going to miss you,” he murmured, swiping a tear from her face with his thumb.
“I’m going to miss you more,” she replied, smiling up sadly at him, her bottom lip wobbling.
“I’m gonna miss you, too,” Eva said, hugging Mariselle.
“Come visit the West Haven?” she asked the princess.
“Absolutely.”
Sniffling, Mariselle leaned into Shawna’s motherly embrace as the horses made their way south, toward the West Haven castle. One maidservant sat across from them, looking out the carriage window. King Zackary sat up front with the carriage driver, much to the carriage rider’s dismay.
“Sir, with all due respect, you should be inside the carriage. It’s meant to protect you against thieves and mercenaries who wish to do your family harm.”
Zackary laughed and patted he carriage driver on the back. He lifted the bow he held and then pointed at the quiver of arrows at his feet. He also gestured to the sword on his hip. “Matthew, you drive, I will keep watch. Nobody’s going to attack this caravan.” He looked behind him at the big, strapping guard he’d convinced his brother he needed. The man was huge, standing on the side of the carriage and holding on as it traveled over the rough terrain. “Isn’t that right, Igor?”
Igor grunted something that sounded like, “Yes, sir,” and continued to scan the forest as they rode through it.
Inside, Mariselle sat up and used the handkerchief to dry her face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so hysterical. I’m just so tired.”
Shawna nodded and kept her arm wrapped around the young woman. “I can only imagine the sadness you must feel. But just know I’ll be here for you. Okay?”
“What would I do without you?” Mariselle asked with a smile.
Shawna squeezed her shoulder.
Mariselle looked over the maidservant. She was young—maybe Mariselle’s age—and very pretty. Porcelain skin, jet-black hair, and light-brown eyes. “What’s your name, miss?” Mariselle asked her.
“Serina,” she replied, inclining her head. “Do you need something, madam?”
Mariselle smiled. “No, just want to know who I’m traveling with. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m Mariselle Langer.”
Serina smiled. “I know. I’m so very honored to be your maidservant. If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Mariselle chuckled, happy to have another potential friend. “Listen, Serina, I’m going to lay the ground rules now.”
Serina’s eyes went wide and she nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’m listening.”
“No ma’ams. No misses. No madams. I’m just Mariselle. I come from a lower caste like you. I’m not royalty and I don’t wish to be treated as such. I could use friends, not servants. If you want to draw my bath or help me dress… or do my hair—”
“That’s my job,” Shawna interjected, but then a hand flew to her mouth. “I’m sorry.”
Mariselle laughed. “No apologies.” She looked at Serina. “Don’t apologize every five seconds either. You’re meant to be my friends. I am not going to be your boss, I just need companionship.”
Serina’s eyes were wide. She was speechless.
“Have you been serving the wealthy your whole life?” Mariselle asked her.
“Yes. My whole life. Since I could talk, it seems.”
Mariselle was beginning to hate the caste system, and vowed if she ever became a queen—in her dreams, probably—that she would put an end to its ridiculousness.
“Well, I realize old habits die hard, but my needs are better met if you talk to me on my level. Can we agree to that?”
Serina smiled, her face lighting up. “Yes, ma’am!”
Mariselle chuckled. “We’ll break you of that, hopefully.”
Serina’s hand went to her mouth. “My apologies.”
Hearing the interaction inside the carriage, Zackary grinned as he scanned the forest, the carriage driver sitting stiffly next to him, still uncomfortable that a Rothhaven King was sitting up front.
Zackary knew there was something he found attractive about Mariselle—and always had. Her down-to-earth and casual personality was very sexy to him. He couldn’t wait to strip her bare and see if she was just as playful in the bedchamber.
Chapter 18
After they had got out of the forest, the ride to the West Haven castle had been fairly unremarkable. Just barren land and a few trees scattered here and there. When the carriage came to a stop late at night, Mariselle was jerked awake. Yawning, she stretched and blinked her eyes open. Standing, she then opened the carriage’s curtain and looked out. A large castle sat under a full moon, three red turrets spiraling up into the sky. A thicket of forest sat behind it, and a mountain range to the left. A small layer of fog blanketed the forest floor and crept its way around the back of the castle.
The carriage driver put his hand out and Mariselle took it, stepping down. He then helped Shawna and Serina down.
Standing behind the driver was King Zackary. The two women bowed slightly, but Mariselle did not. She looked up at his tall frame and then to his castle. With an eyebrow raised, she lifted her chin. “It’s good to be the king, I see.”
He chuckled and licked his
lips. Grabbing her hand, he led her toward the front gate with the maidservants trailing behind. “I plan to show you just how good it is.”
Feeling warm inside at his touch, Mariselle squeezed Zackary’s hand and they walked toward the front door.
They were greeted by the castle staff. Torches burned on the walls and the castle had a warm feel to it. Looking around, Mariselle could see that it looked similar to the other Rothhaven castles she’d been in—lived in—but this one seemed more casual and less stuffy.
“Welcome home, sire,” an older man said in greeting.
“Hello, Francis,” Zackary said. “Anything new?”
Lord Francis shook his head. “No, sir. Been very quiet since you left. Except I think Violet misses you.”
Mariselle’s brow furrowed. Who was Violet? One of the castle whores? She had had to deal with enough of that from the North Haven and Alexander. She didn’t have the energy to be batting away sluts from Zackary.
Pretending she didn’t care, she ignored Francis and looked around at her new digs. An ornate chandelier holding countless candles towered high above her, bolted into the stone ceiling. A grand staircase leading up into what seemed like infinity greeted her straight ahead. A gaggle of maidservants and manservants stood on either side of them, ready to grant their every whim.
Zackary laughed. “You tell John I’ll be out to see Violet later. I’ve sure missed her, too.”
Francis nodded and smiled. “Will do, sir.”
Mariselle didn’t say anything. What could she say? She’d just been in Alexander’s bed less than twenty-four hours ago. She had no say as to who Zackary could or could not bed.
As if sensing her stress, Shawna reached over and squeezed her hand. Mariselle squeezed it back.
“Is there anything you require? Are you hungry?” Lord Francis asked.
Zackary looked at Mariselle. “Hungry?”
Mariselle, in turn, looked at her maidservants. “You two hungry?”
