Xavier rubbed his head and answered sheepishly, “Yeah...well, you saw they stole our clothes...what was I to do?”
Jeremiah eyed him astringently. “Okay, okay. Granted, you were in a tough situation but, son, a king must rise above being goaded into actions that can be perceived as strong-arming.”
“You mean like what you did when you forced Lana to kiss you?” he challenged, irritated at his father’s pompous, know-it-all tone.
The expression of superiority slipped quickly from his father’s face as he stared coolly down at him. After several long moments, he stood and ordered brusquely, “It’s nearly dinnertime. Get a shower.”
As his father reached the door, Xavier blurted, “I’m going to Robbie’s first. I have to talk to her.”
“No, you are not. Shower. Dinner’s in twenty minutes.”
“It’ll only take five minutes!”
“Son, I said no. You’ll have to do it tomorrow after the trials.”
“But, Dad!”
“No, Xavier!” he barked, and the pair stared bullishly at one another for several long minutes until Xavier’s eyes dropped to the floor.
“Downstairs in twenty minutes,” his father commanded before turning and opening the door to leave the room.
Xavier made a face and a rude gesture at his father’s back.
“If you do that again, boy, you’ll be in a world of hurt,” his father warned without turning and left the room.
Chapter 5: Midnight Visit
Xavier tossed and turned in bed that night. The thought of Robbie being mad at him, hating him again, made it impossible for sleep to come. He tried calling her after dinner, but she wouldn’t come to the phone. He had to talk to her tonight, or he would never sleep. With his mind made up, he hopped from bed, pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, and crept to the door. It wasn’t quite 11:00 pm, and his father was surely still up. He slowly pulled the door open and peered down at the reception room below. His father sat in an armchair next to the fire with a drink in hand and a small stack of files on his lap. But, he didn’t seem to be working. He sat staring at the flickering fire, sipping the amber liquid.
Holding his breath, Xavier tiptoed down the walkway to his father’s bedroom. He closed the door with a soft click and expelled his breath before hurrying out onto the patio. Once there, he closed his eyes and concentrated on Robbie’s bedroom. He had been there only once. Last fall, they wrote a history paper about Hurricane Andrew which struck the east coast of the United States in 1992. After cross-referencing the disaster with newspaper clippings from both common and empowered sources, they determined that the hurricane had been the result of an undocumented empowered teen who had no idea he was causing the extreme weather patterns.
But, it had been months since the project, and it was extremely important to have an accurate mental picture of the environment he was teleporting into, or he could end up stuck in a wall or something. After a moment of breathing evenly and concentrating on the memory of the room, Xavier felt the familiar tug as the power actuated. Within his next breath, he teleported from his father’s patio to Robbie’s room. Slowly he opened his eyes and waited for the dizziness to subside. He saw Robbie’s sleeping figure a foot from where he stood. Grinning triumphantly in the dark, he knelt next to her bed.
“Robbie?” he whispered, shaking her lightly. “Robbie, wake up.”
She jerked awake, and he clamped his hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming. “Sh! It’s just me.”
“Xavier? What on Earth are you doing in my bedroom?” she hissed.
“I had to talk to you...to apologize for what happened at the lake,” he whispered. “I’m really sorry if I hurt you. I didn’t mean for it to happen. It was an accident. I was only trying to get our clothes back; I never meant to toss you into the lake. Really!”
“Then how did it happen, Xavier?” she asked softly.
Relieved that she didn’t sound mad, he sank to the floor beside her bed and sighed. “I don’t know how it happened. It was like I couldn’t turn my power off. I think something’s happening to me, Rob. Weird things keep happening to my abilities. Like, I didn’t know that you were still hiding in the woods when I…when we all got out of the water.”
“Yeah, I thought that was strange,” she whispered, as she climbed from her bed and sat on the floor next to him. “I just figured maybe you wanted us watching...”
“Why would I want that?” he hissed moodily. “Would you?”
“No. I’m sorry. It was one of Erica’s harebrained ideas. I swear, she’s getting worse than her dad. I’m sorry, Xavier.”
“It’s okay. There’s nothing that can be done about it now. But, Robbie, I didn’t know that any of you were still around. My telepathic ability was...gone!” he continued.
“Gone? Is it still?” she asked, alarmed.
Xavier shook his head before he remembered in the darkness she couldn’t see him. “No. I got it back just in time for impediment lessons with Dad today. Whoopee! But, that’s not all Robbie. Yesterday, I nearly killed Mr. Sims. I lost control of my telekinesis during the reconstruction of the gatehouse and a stone nearly crushed Harry’s dad. If Loren hadn’t caught it...” his voice wavered at the thought. He felt her hand searching for his before grasping it and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“Xavier? Have you told your dad about this? It might have something to do with the prophecy...”
“No, I didn’t tell him and I’m not going to. He’s being a complete jerk all the time. He yells at me for no reason. Well, not just me, he yells at everyone really.” Then he snickered dryly. “But Lucy gave him a verbal smack down this morning.” He sighed miserably, throwing his head back against the softness of the mattress. “Lana resigned from the High Council today!”
“Oh...well, I think most people had kind of expected that,” she noted.
“I didn’t!” he hissed.
“Well, Xavier, what did you expect her to do? She couldn’t very well stay on the High Council and make judgments on your father’s actions when she’s feeling so distraught over him. It wouldn’t be fair to the throne. Lana is a very honorable woman. She wouldn’t taint the Council in that way,” she explained.
“Yeah, I guess. It just feels like she and Dad are growing farther and farther apart. I really miss her.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” she whispered, squeezing his hand again.
“You won’t tell Dad about the problems I’m having with my powers; will you?” he pleaded.
She was silent.
“Robbie, please!”
“But your dad might be able to help!”
“No, please. He’s got enough going on. Please, don’t tell him.”
She sighed loudly, “All right, all right. I promise.”
“Thanks.” He draped an arm around her and pulled her close.
The couple cuddled into each other enjoying the closeness. With the kingdom in disarray, there had been too much work to do and little time to be together. Xavier stared into the darkness deep in thought with Robbie’s soothing warmth next to him. Soon her breathing became loud and even. She’d fallen asleep. He grinned and muttered sleepily to the girl beside him, “It’s nice to see I have such an intense effect on you. It does wonders for my ego, but I really should go.”
She moaned a protest in her sleep, and again he smiled.
“Okay, I’ll stay a few minutes longer.” But his eyes were growing heavier, and he was having difficulty keeping them open. Finally, he gave in to the slumber with the thought, “I’ll just close my eyes for a few minutes.”
The next morning, as he began to stir from sleep, his entire left arm and shoulder felt heavy and numb.
“What’s wrong with my arm?” he wondered and opened his eyes. Bright sunlight blared through his bedroom window and he blinked. But, it wasn’t his window, and it definitely wasn’t his bedroom! Befuddled, his eyes drifted from the boy band posters on the purple walls to the unicorn figurines and stuffed animals
cluttering bookshelves before finally to the white-washed dresser with purple lilacs painted at the corners of a large vanity mirror. Where was he? He looked back at the blinding light pouring through the window like a spotlight before finally looking at the sleeping girl nestled against his left side. Then, he remembered. Oh God! He was still in Robbie’s room!
“Robbie! Robbie, wake up!” he hissed, shaking her.
She yawned and stretched before blinking up at him and frowning.
“Xavier?”
“Roberta Ann, you better get up and get a move on!” Mrs. Minnows called from outside the door.
Robbie bolted upright. “I’m awake, Mom. Don’t come in! I’m not dressed!”
“Roberta, I used to change your diapers, young lady!”
“Mom, I’m not a baby anymore! I need my privacy!”
“All right, but get a move on; breakfast is getting cold,” her mother responded with a patient sigh.
“Be right there,” she called and turned to Xavier. “You’d better go! If our parents find out...”
“You don’t have to tell me,” he remarked, standing and rushing to her window. Then, with a grin, he turned back to her and added, “It was nice sleeping with you.”
“Xavier Wells! What a wicked thing to say!” she laughed, throwing a pillow at him, but missed for he had already teleported out of her room.
Xavier found himself swaying unsteadily on the edge of the patio wall very close to plunging off the third floor. Swinging his arms wildly, he managed to regain his balance. Then he hopped down from the patio wall and crept cautiously into his father’s room. His father was not in bed, in fact it was already made, nor did it appear he was in the shower or shaving. He hurried out of the room and down the walkway, finding the reception room empty. The palace was quiet. Relieved that he was having a bit of good luck, he opened his bedroom door and ducked inside.
“WHERE IN THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?” his father boomed, standing next to the bed.
“Ah...I...was...I was downstairs getting a drink.”
“Don’t lie to me, boy!” he barked.
“I’m not...” he shifted under his father’s glare for several excruciating minutes. Finally, he muttered, “I...I was at Robbie’s.”
“What in God’s name were you doing at Robbie’s at this early hour?” he asked.
“I had to talk to her, and I couldn’t sleep until I did. I didn’t mean to be there all night. I fell asleep. I couldn’t help it,” he explained in a rush.
“What?” his father roared stomping toward him. “You spent the night there?”
“God, don’t go crazy, Dad! I only went to apologize for dunking her in the lake! We were just talking!” he yelled defensively.
“I don’t give a damn what you were doing! You were told not to go to Robbie’s! You had no business being there!” his father hollered. “As the Prince of Warwood, your behavior and actions must be the epitome of honor and respect.”
He huffed indignantly as he stomped across the room, sat on the bed, and began pulling off his shoes. “I was honorable. I was apologizing. You should try it sometime, King Wells,” he spat before stomping toward the bathroom.
His father nearly came unglued, and his face flushed with anger. “Xavier Wells! Stop this instant!”
With his own temper teetering, he spun to face the fiery man. “No, Dad, you stop! No one is going to know I accidently fell asleep at Robbie’s. You’re being stupid about this and about Lana! Just because you and Lana aren’t...”
The king’s murderous glare silenced the boy instantly. After a long, tense moment, he growled, “You’re grounded to the palace for a month, boy.”
“What? No! That’s not fair! You can’t make me! God, why are you being such a jackass?” he spat out.
Before he could blink, his father tore across the room, grabbed him roughly, hoisted him off his feet, and pinned him against the wall. His eyes were wild and manic. “Do NOT speak to me like that EVER again, boy! And, believe me when I tell you, I CAN make you. It could prove painful for you if I do. Now, if you wish to continue to give me cheek, I may be inclined to show you a bit of that pain now!”
Xavier felt a shiver of fear sweep through him and he froze in his father’s hard, painful clutches.
“Dad?” he squeaked. “Dad, you’re hurting me...”
“Jeremiah Wells!” Mrs. Sommers snapped from the door and stomped into the room with fury flaming in her eyes. “Release that boy at once!”
Jeremiah’s head snapped to Mrs. Sommers before looking back at Xavier with shock. Gently, his father lowered him to the floor and released him.
“Xavier? Breakfast is ready. Go downstairs; your father will join you shortly.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered and scurried from the room.
Mrs. Sommers entered the dining hall fifteen minutes later.
“Did you get him straightened out?” he blurted indignantly and was met by a stern glare.
“Yes and now it’s your turn, young man!” she scolded. “First, you have absolutely no business staying out all night! Why were you out that late?”
He shrugged.
“Don’t shrug at me, Jeremiah Xavier Wells; answer the question! What were you doing at Miss Minnow’s late last night?”
“I only went there to apologize to her for something that I did. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“As noble as that is, Xavier, you had no business sneaking out at that late hour. Your father was frantic when he didn’t find you in your bed this morning.”
“Worried? Yeah, right,” he spat sarcastically. “He just likes to have control over everything and everyone around him, especially me! Lucy’s right. Dad’s a bully.”
“Xavier Wells! I cannot believe you! You have a knack for getting yourself in dire situations that your father has to rescue you from, and you have the nerve to call your father a bully and belittle his feelings? Shame on you!”
He tucked his head to Mrs. Sommers’ reprimands.
“Sorry. I’m just mad at him. He wouldn’t even listen to me! I hadn’t meant to be gone all night. I only wanted to apologize to Robbie. That’s all! He just got so...so bent out of shape.”
His governess sighed and patted his shoulder before sitting next to him. “Honey, I’m not excusing your father’s behavior at all, but you’ve got to understand that he’s been under a great deal of stress lately. He’s rebuilding the kingdom, he’s preparing our shattered kingdom for a war that could come at any moment, he grieves and feels guilty about the lives lost during the invasion, and he’s beginning to realize he ruined things with Lana. But the biggest and most overwhelming responsibility weighing on his shoulders is raising a willful, stubborn son who will someday be the King of Warwood and, more importantly, the savior of mankind. He struggles every day not to become the father he had, but when his stress level increases and when you challenge his authority again and again, the more difficult it is for him to overcome it. He lost that struggle this morning when he grabbed you the way he did. He feels horrible about it.”
“Was Grandfather that...mean?” Xavier asked.
“Yes, he was. Lord knows he loved his sons. He just didn’t know how to show it in the way they needed, not like the way your father shows you. Your grandfather wouldn’t do anything with his sons unless it could serve as some kind of lesson or test on becoming a strong ruler. He never played rugby with them, he never took them fishing or on a picnic, he wouldn’t wrestle around with them, and he never hugged or consoled them when they had nightmares or a bad day. He believed that by showing any kind of affection it would make them soft, and since your father was the heir to the throne, he received more severe discipline, sterner words, and harsher lessons and tests than Michael. This difference in treatment put a wedge between them and King Wells Senior used their rivalry against them, deepening their resentment for each other. Your grandfather flirted between the line of harsh discipline and abuse.”
“Jeez, he sounds like a
nightmare to me. I’m glad I didn’t know him,” he muttered.
Mrs. Sommers nodded. “Yes, he could be but, honey, you have to understand your grandfather was only doing the best he knew how. I grew up with your grandfather. As a boy, he wasn’t much different than you or your father at that age. The throne brings enormous responsibility and power and that can change a person. Only your father has attempted to break the cycle of harsh parenting. So when he comes down for breakfast, you will apologize for worrying him and for your cheek. Is that clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered.
Ten minutes later, his father entered the dining hall as Xavier ate his waffles and fruit.
“I’ll get your breakfast, Your Highness,” Mrs. Sommers announced sweetly and left the room.
He settled in his seat with a nod and cleared his throat. “Son? I’m sorry for...well, for my behavior. I had no right to grab you the way I did.”
“It’s okay,” he muttered. “I’m sorry too, Dad. I shouldn’t have talked to you like I did, and I’m sorry I worried you when you found my bed empty this morning. I really didn’t mean to be gone long. I only wanted to apologize to her.”
“I know,” his father replied softly, “but I told you not to go last night. Didn’t I?”
“Yes, sir. You did,” he mumbled.
“Therefore, you’re grounded to the palace for the rest of the week. If you choose to defy me on this punishment, then I will put you over my knee and spank you.” Jeremiah spoke softly, but his voice held a commanding finality so that Xavier found his mutinous thoughts evaporating and nodded.
“Good. Now, we have trials this morning. So when you’re finished with your breakfast, get cleaned up. Mrs. Sommers laid out your clothes for today.”
“She doesn’t have to do that. I can find something to wear on my own.”
“It’s her job, son. Besides, you’ll need to wear a suit, your royalty sash, and robe. A king’s attire must reflect his authority on occasions like the proceedings we’re dealing with today.”
“Oh,” he muttered, frowning. “But a suit?”
The Prince of Warwood and The Rise of the Chosen Page 4
