I gazed across the blackness to the other dim slivers of light I’d seen earlier. Then I spatially put together the room from the portion of it I’d explored, recalling where the bed stood in relation to the door, where the metal pole was in relation to the bed, and where the two slivers of light danced across the room.
I took the dreaded step into the blackness, muscle memory taking me seven steps before reaching an arm upward. I had to adjust my position slightly, but my hand found the string hanging from the ceiling, and pulled.
With a soft click, the lightbulb directly overhead illuminated. And I discovered what my body had already told me was true. I was back in my cellar room beneath the Ramsey Estate. The metal dress rack I’d bumped into held a single hanging dress—the apricot cocktail dress Kimera had chosen for me. My bed looked the same. The sheets were still stained with my blood from the last night I was there, while the crucifix still hung on the wall directly above the pillow. The two small windows on the far side of the room were still boarded up; it was like I had never left.
As I took in my cramped and horrifying surroundings, I heard noises from outside the door; footsteps on concrete, the jingle of keys. The doorknob turned. I backed up to the far wall, which was as far as I could go, but nowhere near far enough. Now there was no suppressing the panic.
The door opened and Master Ramsey entered, placing his keychain in his pocket and closing the door behind him. The screech of the door itself was torture.
“Welcome home, Princess. It’s time to answer for all your transgressions,” he said, his voice cold and perfectly clear. There was no hint of whiskey.
Master Ramsey didn’t have a bushel of switches with him. Then I noticed a bandage on his left hand—no, where his left hand should have been. The bandage seemed to be covering the stump of his left wrist.
“This is no more my home than yours,” I challenged, thankful I could get the words out as confidently as I did. “I thought you’d lost the estate—that the Queen took it from you.”
“That she did, my pretty little princess. That she did.” Master Ramsey slowly crossed the room. “But I always get back what is rightfully mine—that, or die trying.” He held up his stump. “Your prince left me for dead. The wolves tried to kill me, but they failed.” He stopped, only a few feet of stale air between us. “The estate is empty now. We’re all alone. No one will find you here. And no one will hear you cry… and scream… and beg.”
I made a promise to myself as Master Ramsey stood before me like a living nightmare, that no matter what happened next, I would not beg.
Epilogue: Queen Dorothea
I headed back to my bedroom, weary and lost from the day’s events. The celebration raged on downstairs without anyone having knowledge of what had happened in the Press Room, but I couldn’t stand the company and small talk any longer.
I needed all new allies. Everyone I thought I could trust had proved otherwise. Mackenzie, whom I’d trusted with my darkest secret, had even betrayed me. I was surrounded by insurgents. You can only trust the ones you can control, and with the loss of Amelia and the reemergence of my late husband, I’d discovered how little of that I had left—if any. Perhaps I had only the appearance of it.
I should break off all support of Easteria and focus my attention at home. But the DuFours may be the most powerful allies I have left. I need to keep Byron close now more than ever, although he’ll be even more distracted due to Victoria’s abduction. At least I still had Bethany to make everything at home seem well, but I’d need to get Victoria back to keep him amicable.
When I reached my room, I headed straight for the washroom and cleaned the blood from my hands. As much betrayal as I’d endured, I did have guards still willing to give their lives for me and I had gone back to pay my respect to those fallen, loyal servants as their bodies were discreetly taken away. As the blood circled the drain, I felt the full weight of what I had left—and what I had left to do. I shut my eyes to keep the tears from falling, but they fell all the same. I turned off the water, but the tears continued to flow.
My legs gave out and I collapsed onto the floor, finally not trying to restrain the sobbing. I had no one to call on—no one to comfort me… No one.
Amelia, I’m so sorry. I only wanted to protect you and couldn’t even do that. Everything I’ve done has been for nothing.
I remembered holding my little girl as she wailed uncontrollably. I could not soothe her. Then she started to gasp for air like she was choking. Then the tremors began. I was the most powerful person in the Kingdom and there was nothing I could do to help her; I held her to my chest and ran from the nursery, screaming for someone—anyone—to do something for my little girl.
Amelia was my miracle, and everything to me. All I’d ever wanted was to keep her safe from those who wished to harm her—of which there had been many; in her condition, she could not help herself, and despite the doctor’s efforts, that had never changed.
I longed to see her again and the most recent images I had of her were the ones taken by Victoria. So, I gathered my composure just enough to pick myself off the floor and headed over to my desk at the far corner of the room, to boot up the laptop and retrieve the flash drive Victoria had given me. Sitting back in the computer chair, I clicked through a few menus, first opening the surveillance program Brock had installed. The security team had access to most of the Château’s surveillance feeds, but not these. I first checked in on Bethany, now alone in her room. Then Byron’s room, which was currently empty but had numerous lights in the room illuminated. Then I gazed into the room that had been Amelia’s, now empty, forlorn, and dark.
I hadn’t had a camera in her previous quarters, due to the fear someone could hack into the feed and find her, yet she was found anyway. Then, in her new room with surveillance added, she was taken. Maybe the surveillance had something to do with it or maybe it didn’t. It didn’t matter now. All that mattered was getting her back.
Staring into the dark room, with the green glow of night vision, I inserted the flash drive. The new drive folder overlaid the room feed. In the folder was a long list of image and video files. I clicked on a random file and the face of my beautiful daughter appeared. She was staring straight into the camera. I brought my hand up to my mouth as the tears returned, stinging my eyes and blurring my vision. Both hands dropped to the armrests as grief overtook me. I blinked hard to keep from losing sight of her. Then another pop-up window appeared.
I blinked hard again so I could read what it said.
Downloading content… Download Complete.
“What is this?” I leaned forward to get a closer look at the screen.
The pop-up window disappeared. Then a new one appeared.
Program setup and configuration… 5… 4… 3…
“What’s happening?” I gasped and yanked the flash drive from the USB port.
But the program continued to run.
2…
I punched down on the power button, but still, nothing happened.
1… Please wait…
I watched in horror as whatever program—virus—that had been installed onto my machine finished its countdown. The cursor froze. The entire computer was now out of my control, just like everything else in my life. The countdown pop-up window faded away before a new one appeared front and center.
File release complete.
I gasped at the implication of those words.
Everything on the screen had gone, and all I could see was a lightning blue backdrop with scrolling error messages. With shaking hands, I rebooted the machine; blue. Only blue.
I screamed and threw the now useless laptop. It cracked and clanged as it bounced off the wall. Then, I picked up the flash drive and squeezed it as hard as I could—as if I was strong enough to crush it in my bare hands. Maybe I couldn’t crush it, but I could crush them.
I would find a way.
Ready for the next part of Victoria’s adventure?
Royal Threat will be
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About the Author
Michael writes YA speculative fiction. He currently lives in Southern California with his wife, kids, and two blood-thirsty chiweenies.
When he's not at the computer, he enjoys spending quality time with family, practicing yoga, playing guitar behind closed doors, and listening to as many audiobooks as possible.
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Also by Michael Pierce
THE ROYAL REPLICAS SERIES
Royal Replicas (Book 1)
Royal Captives (Book 2)
Royal Threat (Book 3) - coming early 2018
THE LORNE FAMILY VAULT SERIES
Provex City (Book 1)
SUSY Asylum (Book 2)
Doria Falls (Book 3)
Archanum Manor (Book 4)
Royal Replicas 2: Royal Captives Page 23
