Royal Threat

by Michael Pierce

  “No one else is allowed inside this room. Is that understood?” The Queen eyed each of us and we all nodded our agreement.

  She went back to Princess Amelia’s side and dropped to the floor, resting her head on the quilted mattress.

  All but Dr. Crane left to retrieve the rest of Princess Amelia’s medical equipment. Dr. Crane took a seat on the opposite side of the bed.

  “He said he was my father,” Princess Amelia said, softly. “Is it true? Is he really still alive?”

  “It seems so,” the Queen said. “When you’re feeling better, I want you to tell me everything you can remember.”

  “I was hooded when they took me. We traveled for a long time, but I don’t know to where.” The Princess swallowed hard. Spittle dripped down her cheek, which the Queen quickly wiped away. She tried to say more, but the words were escaping her.

  I was there when they took her—when Victoria wheeled her out of her room. She hadn’t been hooded. I couldn’t tell if she was lying for some reason or genuinely confused. I didn’t know enough about her ailment to understand how it affected her mind. So I let the inaccurate retelling for her capture go.

  “Perhaps the man I loved was still in there somewhere… still alive after all…” Queen Dorothea seemed to be talking to herself.

  But then, the quiet was disrupted by gunfire outside, followed by screams. Everyone’s attention shot to the windows.

  I was the first to reach the glass, my gaze trained on the palace wall. More shots were fired. Some protestors were scattering, others violently tugging on the gate. Still more reached the top of the fifteen-foot wall, pulled themselves over, and dropped onto the palace lawn.

  8

  Victoria

  I awoke to the piercing sound of glass shattering. I had no idea how long I’d been unconscious. Quickly taking inventory, I was still lying on the floor of the foyer and the monster who had held me captive for so many years was still slain.

  The glass continued breaking in one of the large windows in the sitting room just off the foyer. I still felt like death, but scrambled to my feet and retrieved the bread knife from Ramsey’s body, doing what I could to prepare myself for the intruder. I hobbled down the hallway and into the dining room, trying to decide on the best place to hide. The sickening condition of the room only brought back an onslaught of terrible and all-too-vivid memories.

  I heard a thump and a cracking of glass underfoot in the front room and knew I needed to act fast. Without further consideration, I sped into the kitchen, then closed myself into the pantry. I crouched down, slid under the shelves, and waited. As I hid in the shadows, I soon heard a voice I thought I might never hear again.

  “Victoria!” Kale called. “Victoria!”

  I clambered to my feet and staggered out of the pantry, still clutching the bloody knife. When I saw him from the far end of the hallway, I dropped the knife and began to cry, my emotions completely overflowing from the emotional and physical hell I’d been through in the last few days… the last few months… practically my whole life.

  I wanted to run to him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything. But Kale jumped into action and met me at the threshold of the dining room. I could see in his aching eyes how much he wanted to hug me, but didn’t know what to do due to the vile concoction of blood and vomit covering my entire body. His expression was a mixture of relief and concern.

  “What can I do?” he asked.

  “Just hold me. Please,” I said just as my legs gave out, forcing me to the floor.

  He knelt and pulled me into his arms, unconcerned with the filth branding me. “I’ve got you,” he promised. “You’re safe now.”

  I knew when I saw him that I saw somebody new. I saw someone who had been there all along, someone who would always be there for me, and someone I would always love. But Frank’s revelation had changed him in my eyes. I had felt it in the moment, but I knew it now.

  Kale. My brother. And I was confident he didn’t know the truth—at least not yet.

  I felt dizzy and nauseous from being upright again, and when I started to heave more, Kale gave me space but didn’t leave my side.

  “Is there anyone else here?”

  I spat on to the floor and shook my head.

  “Then perhaps I should get you in bed so you can rest for the night and we’ll move on tomorrow. It’s practically nightfall anyway.”

  “The keys,” I croaked.

  Kale’s brow furrowed.

  “The keys for this damn collar,” I clarified. “They should be on… Ramsey.”

  Kale was reluctant to leave me, but he finally took off to find the keys and returned moments later with a small key ring. “Hopefully, it’s one of these.”

  I pulled my hair to the side to allow him to try the various keys in the lock. Then I heard a click and knew one of them had worked. I let out a long breath when the collar fell from my neck, grateful that Ramsey’s final hold on me was gone.

  Kale lifted me into his arms, carried me past the body, and up the stairs. I directed him to Mina’s room and he laid me gently on the plush, oversized bed. For a second, I felt I was back in the palace.

  All I wanted to do was sleep. Changing clothes or washing off was too much work. I weaseled my way under the covers and nuzzled into the pillow. Despite the horrid stench I’d brought into the room, I could still smell Mina from the covers.

  Kale ventured into the en suite and returned with a damp towel and a small plastic trash receptacle, which he placed on the floor beside the bed.

  “It’s for… you know,” he said, stumbling over his words. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and began to wipe my face with the warm, wet towel.

  “Thank you,” I said, closing my eyes while he worked.

  “I wish I’d broken in sooner,” he said. “I heard the commotion from outside.”

  “I don’t,” I said. “Who knows how that would have gone. I wouldn’t want to lose you.”

  “Then you know how I feel. I can’t lose you. No matter what.”

  My heart ached from his words and I wanted to say something—tell him the truth. But now seemed like a terrible time to reveal such a secret, so I let him finish wiping my face without saying another word.

  “It’s okay,” he said once he’d finished, then kissed me on the forehead. “I know you’ve chosen him. Irritatingly enough, I like the guy. I just want you to be happy.”

  “Not taking my current condition into account, I am happy.” I attempted a smile, but even the muscles in my face hurt.

  His smile looked almost as agonizing as mine. “Good,” he said and returned the towel to the en suite. “Now, try and get some sleep. I’m going to clean up downstairs, then I’ll be back to check on you.”

  “You don’t have to clean up,” I protested.

  “Get. Some. Sleep.”

  When I awoke the following morning, I found Kale sleeping on the floor, wrapped in purple comforters and blankets he’d stolen from another bedroom—presumably Johanna’s since most of the other bedrooms had more gender neutral colors.

  I sat up slowly to test my constitution. I hadn’t thrown up all night and hoped the sickness was behind me. My abdominal muscles ached from everything they’d been through. My various injuries from several switching sessions since I’d been back here wouldn’t allow me to forget they were there. And new bumps and bruises from last night’s battle were just now making themselves known—fresh wounds that would leave new scars. But I was okay with scars. I didn’t want to forget who I was and what I’d been through, no matter how painful.

  I tiptoed out of the room to avoid waking Kale and ventured into Johanna’s room. As I’d suspected, her bed had been ransacked. I picked out some of her clothes, though it was hard to find a sensible ensemble amidst all the gowns, but did finally manage to locate a pair of pants, a tank top, and a loose-fitting blouse.

  I took a cool shower, washing away all the rest of the grime from last night’s mayhem, watching the remna
nts of blood and filth circle the drain until all the water was finally clear again. After a few more minutes of standing under the soothing water, I dried off, let the towel fall to the floor, and stood naked before the mirror. All the new marks and old scars stood out in the bright bathroom light like harsh signatures of my late owner. I had ended him. I had ended him. And no one could take that away from me.

  Once I’d dressed and dried my hair, I returned to Mina’s room and found it empty—just a pile of blankets strewn about the floor. I cringed at the thought of seeing the dead body at the bottom of the stairs, but it was gone. The stairs and the foyer had been thoroughly cleaned, with only small stains still speckling the floor and walls. As I made my way from the hallway to the dining room, much of the evidence of last night’s struggle was gone.

  Commotion was coming from the kitchen, so I peeked in and found Kale in front of the stove, frying chopped meat in one pan and cooking pancakes in another.

  “Smells delicious,” I said.

  Kale spun his head at the sudden sound of my voice. “Oh, you’re up,” he said with a smile. “Go take a seat. This is almost ready.”

  “You didn’t use any beef from the stew, did you?”

  “In the pot that had sat out all night? No; I threw all that away.”

  I sat in the same chair I’d been sitting in since I returned… as far away from my tormentor as possible. Shortly after, Kale sailed into the room carrying two full plates of food, then he made a second trip with utensils and glasses of water. I watched him work, reminding me of our time together in the palace, when everyone knew him as Jimmy. He finished by dragging a chair closer to my corner of the table and sitting beside me.

  “I couldn’t find any syrup for the pancakes,” he said. “But there’s butter on them.”

  “They’ll be wonderful just the way they are,” I said. There was probably a spare jar of syrup stashed away in the pantry, but I didn’t want to expend the extra effort to look. What I truly needed was right here at the table.

  “You’re a better cook than I am,” I said in between bites.

  “You must remember, my mother worked in the palace kitchen for a number of years,” Kale said. “I can’t do anything close to what she can, but she taught me a few things. You must know a few tricks yourself, working here all your life.”

  “Only a few,” I said with a smirk, swallowing another small bite of pancake. It was delicious, but my stomach was still super sensitive. “You didn’t have to do all this—especially all the cleaning you did last night. We don’t owe anything to this house.”

  “I wanted to shield you from the reminders so we could enjoy a leisurely breakfast.”

  “I have plenty of reminders, many of which will be with me for the rest of my life.”

  “You know what I mean,” Kale said.

  “I do, but you still didn’t have to.”

  “I know. I wanted to.” Kale finished his breakfast in record time, then jumped up from the table and disappeared into the kitchen. He returned with two mugs of coffee. “I can find some sugar if you want.”

  “I’m good without it,” I said, taking a sip from the steaming mug. “Where did you put the body?”

  “Don’t concern yourself with that,” Kale said. “It’s gone. I spoke with Byron and he said it’s safer if I don’t take you back yet, so I planned to take you to Mama Maud’s. Mina and the other kids are still there.”

  “What about Gabriel?”

  “He’s watching Mackenzie’s house, where the other two girls most likely are. That will be our next challenge.”

  “He’s as much of a monster—if not more so—than Ramsey. We have to get them out of there,” I insisted.

  “One thing at a time,” Kale chided. “We can’t simply march into his active and heavily-guarded estate. And besides, I just got you back. I’m not throwing you right back into the fire.”

  “You don’t understand what he’s like,” I insisted.

  “I know enough. Gabriel’s keeping watch and that’s good enough for now. I don’t know what other plans my father has, so we need to be careful.”

  “Your father…” I didn’t know if now was the time to tell him or to hold onto the secret longer.

  “I’m sorry he hijacked everything,” he said, his expression growing grim. “If I had known, I never would have gotten him involved.”

  “Your father said he used to work in the palace with your mother… That’s why they had so much information regarding the layout.”

  “That’s right,” Kale said.

  “And he wasn’t your biological father.”

  “True. My mother never talked about him. For all intents and purposes, Frank has always been my father.”

  I was quiet, waiting to see if he’d elaborate more or offer new information, but he didn’t. “Why weren’t you there when he came to confront the Queen?”

  “I… umm… suddenly got sick the night before we were scheduled to leave,” Kale said, now looking even more crestfallen. “I couldn’t make the journey. I wanted to—I wanted nothing more than to be there, especially with what ended up happening. I felt responsible.”

  “You’re not responsible for what Frank did,” I assured him. “Do you think it was a coincidence—that you got sick, I mean?”

  Kale shook his head. “I think it was intentional to keep me away.”

  At least he could recognize that. “Kale, what your father did… It was unspeakable. But there was a greater purpose to his actions, motivation that dates back nearly two decades.”

  “What are you talking about? What did he say?”

  “He doesn’t hold so much power because he’s simply well connected,” I said. “He’s so much more than any of us knew… including the Queen. Frank revealed himself as the late King of Westeria—Queen Hart’s husband. Princess Amelia’s father.” I paused. “And my father.”

  Kale nearly dropped his coffee mug. “I don’t know what to say… Are you sure?”

  “Quite sure,” I said. “The Queen’s expression said it all.”

  “Who else knew?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I suppose my mother kept me in the dark all these years too.” Kale stared off into space. “I can’t believe this. My whole life has been a lie.”

  “The Queen thought she’d killed him; it had something to do with Princess Amelia. I’m sorry. This has to be incredibly difficult,” I said, placing a hand on his.

  “Yeah; you could say that,” he said, flatly. “It’s a lot to take in.”

  “Kinda like finding out you’re the Queen’s daughter, then discovering you’re actually a clone of the Queen’s daughter, then that she intends to kill you if you’re not the winner of her twisted dating game? A lot to take in like that?” I cracked a smile.

  “I guess I forgot who I was talking to—I’m not exactly in a position to complain.”

  “We’re all allowed moments to freak out. I thought a joke might help.”

  “Okay then.” Kale stood and downed the last of his coffee. “Are you ready to get out of here?”

  “If I ever see this house again, it’ll be too soon,” I said.

  We left the dirty dishes on the dining room table, gathered some supplies, and headed for Kale’s safehouse. Mina would be a welcomed sight.

  9

  Byron

  The dead were already taken away. The fighting went on late into the evening, but by morning, the palace grounds were as quiet as a cemetery.

  I nodded at the guards as I wandered through the gate to see what was left outside the perimeter. I noticed blood on the street—in more places than one. It was so sad things had to come to this. Brock had dispersed a military team to shut down the protesters once it grew violent, pushed the group back, and formed a blockade a hundred yards back. Intruders who had scaled the wall were shot on sight. I even shot one myself who had broken a first-floor window and nearly climbed inside.

  The unrest was growing and festering like a
cancer. There were news reports that more protests had broken out in Capital City. Media reports of the violence outside the palace now circulated with the leaked ones about Princess Amelia, contrasted against the press conference with Victoria and me at the Foundation Day celebration. There were even snapshots of us on the Inter-Ward Express, when I’d stopped Victoria from running away with Kale.

  I wasn’t able to get ahold of Kale until early that morning. I was fighting off the protestors when he’d called the previous night. By the time I heard his message and called back, he didn’t answer.

  I found Victoria. She’s safe, though not in the best shape. She killed Ramsey. Gabriel is still staked out at Mackenzie’s.

  I listened to the message multiple times. I wanted to make sure I was hearing him right. Victoria had killed Ramsey… What had she done? What had he done to her? Though I didn’t want to know, I needed to.

  I was surrounded by war—the senseless violence and horror. I didn’t know of a place left untouched by its scorched earth. Maybe everything had to be burned down before it could be rebuilt? God knew most of my Kingdom was in ashes. Now, this one was about to be torched from within. I was doing everything I could to contain it at the palace level, but didn’t have the first clue how to diffuse it at a macro level.

  As I walked through the bloodstained street, I thought about my first date with Victoria—of our dinner in the lighthouse. I replayed the conversation we’d had about forgetting about title, status, and royal obligations—moving away and building a quiet, secluded life together. That dream felt so much better now than it did then. At the time, I was just getting to know Victoria. I didn’t yet know she was the one for me.

  “Your Highness, you really shouldn’t be out here,” I heard a voice say from behind me.

  I turned and found Brock approaching fast, a machine gun on his shoulder. “This is still considered a volatile area. Your safety is of the utmost importance.”

  “It seems you have the area under control,” I said.