Royal Threat

Home > Other > Royal Threat > Page 17
Royal Threat Page 17

by Michael Pierce


  I wasn’t much of a scotch drinker, but had to admit it was smooth. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of my approval, no matter how small.

  He shuffled back over to the armchair, making me wonder what number he was on. This would be such a perfect opportunity to slit his throat—he wouldn’t even see it coming, and by his mood, he might not even care—but I couldn’t touch him. None of us could. I had never seen him drop his guard this far. I’d probably have to protect him against Constance since you could always count on her to act before thinking.

  “When are you going to take us to Princess Amelia?” I asked, joining him back by the unlit hearth.

  “That is the question, isn’t it?” Mackenzie mocked and took another drink. “She’s in good hands though. You don’t have to worry about her safety. She’s safer off the grid than with any one of us.”

  “But we’d all feel safer to get her back,” I said, my head starting to swim from the alcohol, realizing I shouldn’t have another.

  “Once she’s back, I become expendable. I want to at least be part of the surge before that happens.”

  “What if I promise your safety until the rightful Princess-turned-Queen is on the throne? Then you can have the option of exile over execution.”

  Mackenzie just laughed. “Like you can promise such a thing. I trust all of you about as much as you trust me. Maybe some of the Queen’s paranoia rubbed off on me.” After another sip, he’d emptied his glass again, then gazed into it like he didn’t understand where all its contents had gone. “It’s too damn smooth.” Mackenzie stood up and returned to the liquor cabinet. “Another?”

  “I’m still working on mine,” I said, now saving it as an excuse so he couldn’t insist I have more.

  “Here’s a question,” Mackenzie said as he capped the bottle of scotch. “Who is the new rightful Queen?”

  I was silent for a moment.

  “It’s not so simple anymore, is it? It seemed pretty clear cut before, when the Queen was alive. But now that she’s gone, how do we really proceed?”

  “Well, it’s not the girls who have taken over the palace,” I finally answered.

  “Clearly. But is it Princess Amelia or Victoria posing as Princess Amelia? Or is it Victoria as herself? I doubt the public would accept her knowing the truth, but stranger things have happened. Or is it time for a new ruling family—the Harts having outlived their welcome?”

  They were all good questions, to which I didn’t have the answers. “I’d say this is something to be discussed after we take back the palace and regain control of the Kingdom.”

  “Like you ever had it, Easterner,” he said with a snorting laugh. “But they are definite things to think about. And once you have Princess Amelia back, you won’t need me anymore. Who are you going to choose to become the new ruling family of the 23rd Ward?”

  “I don’t want to talk about this,” I snapped.

  He huffed out a reply I couldn’t make out and kept drinking. I needed to keep my wits about me. Pensive drunkenness could turn to aggression and violence in a heartbeat, and as much as I wanted to put him down, I didn’t want to do something I’d regret.

  “As another test of goodwill, I’d like you to do something for me,” I said, curious as to how he’d react to a mysterious proposal.

  “For you or for the group?”

  “For me.”

  “I’m listening,” Mackenzie said, taking his gaze off the fireplace, intrigued. “Finish your drink so I can pour you another one. I’ve had way too many and you not nearly enough.”

  Hesitantly, I took a gamble and drained the rest of my glass. “One more, but that’s all.”

  Mackenzie’s grin widened. “That’s my boy,” he said, jumping to his feet and pouring us both another. He handed me back the glass, filled more than the time before. “So, tell me about this test of goodwill.”

  The last gulp hadn’t hit me yet and I took another swig for good measure. “You and Ramsey were in a limo with Victoria. You mentioned the incident when you arrived.”

  “She mentioned it. I simply said I helped her on several occasions,” Mackenzie said matter-of-factly.

  “Well, you three were not the only ones in the limo. Tell me, was Duke Hendrix one of the other mysterious parties?”

  Mackenzie stared at me, cautiously reading my face. “Hypothetically, if I told you he was, what would you do with that information?”

  “I’d ask for you to arrange a meeting with him—for just the two of us.”

  “You... and Hendrix…” Mackenzie studied me, more curious than cautious now, his eyes bloodshot, his eyelids starting to droop. “And what would be the purpose of this hypothetical meeting?”

  “To kill him,” I said, bluntly, and it was immediately apparent he was not expecting that answer.

  He was silent a long moment, swirling his glass and gazing down into the amber liquid like it was hypnotizing him. Then, at last, he spoke. He didn’t laugh, just spoke like this was the natural progression of our conversation. “I thought princes didn’t like to get their hands dirty. Killing is messy business.”

  “I don’t want to, I need to do this. He was there, wasn’t he?”

  “Why do you care? I know your girlfriend means a great deal to you, but nothing happened that night—that fact was also mentioned earlier. She probably already told you.”

  “It’s the intent that matters,” I said.

  “So you intend to kill him over his intent to have some fun with her?”

  “Fun for whom?” I could feel my blood rising to a boil, but I tried to stay calm since he was.

  “I won’t play the semantics game with you. Let me tell you what I’ll do,” Mackenzie said and paused to finish his glass once more. “I’ll arrange the meeting with him, but…” He gave me a knowing smile.

  “What are your conditions?” I asked.

  “I will be there. I want to watch you kill him. What do you say?”

  He awaited my answer. This just got very real. If he set up this meeting, I could be walking directly into a trap. I could have my men find him myself; I didn’t need to go through Mackenzie, but Duke Hendrix may already be making plans to disappear with the recent events he’d been a part of. Even though Mackenzie stole Piper from him, he was probably still the best chance of finding him.

  “Is this still hypothetical?” I asked.

  “That depends on you.” Mackenzie’s gaze was dark, the hunter within making himself known. “Is this a real request or the result of a tangent during a harmless conversation over scotch? It will be messy.”

  “I’ve killed before,” I said.

  “But probably not like this,” Mackenzie countered. “Not a murder of passion.”

  “It’s not a murder of passion.”

  Mackenzie gave me a condescending grin. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

  I felt myself starting to sweat. The room seemed suddenly suffocating. I undid the top button of my shirt, which did little to relieve my flushing skin.

  I could work with Gabriel to do this instead of going through this monster. I could try to drop this new obsession with finding the men who’d been in the limo with Victoria. I could proceed in a number of safer ways, but finally decided Mackenzie offered the best chance of giving me what I wanted. He knew who else was in the limo—and I was still sure the names were on the list Johanna had written—and if he followed through on Duke Hendrix, there was a good chance he’d also give up the next name.

  “Will you even remember this conversation when you sober up?” I asked, incredulously.

  “I won’t forget,” he said in an equally challenging tone.

  “Then arrange the meeting.”

  31

  Victoria

  When I awoke, I felt cold—maybe due to the fact Prince Byron was no longer wrapped around me. Upon further inspection, he was no longer in the room.

  I was still exhausted, but felt guilty sleeping the whole day away, not knowing what else was going
on. I took a few minutes in the bathroom to make myself presentable, put on my shoes, and ventured out of the bedroom.

  I stopped at the closed door of the room I’d given to Piper. Placing my ear to the wood, I couldn’t make out any sounds from inside. If she was still asleep, then I didn’t want to wake her by knocking. I carefully opened the door a crack and peered inside.

  The curtains were open and Piper was sitting on the oversized window sill, hugging her knees to her chest.

  “Knock, knock,” I said, opening the door a little wider.

  “Oh, hey, Victoria,” Piper said like she was returning from a daydream—or more likely, a nightmare.

  “I just wanted to check in and make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “How are you? In talking to Constance, it seems like you both had some pretty trying experiences. It must have been so scary.”

  “For you too,” I said. “I can imagine what you went through—same with Constance. If you want to talk about it, then I’m here for you. I met him a few times—and what I saw creeped me the hell out.”

  Piper turned back to the window. “Yeah; he was a strange man, but I don’t think my time was like yours. He scared me, but he never hurt me. He wanted me to be Tabatha, even though I look like this now. He was really sad more than anything.”

  I wasn’t anticipating this kind of recount of her time in captivity from the man I’d heard was worse than the others, though I was relieved she didn’t have to endure the things that Constance and I had to.

  “He didn’t touch you?” I asked, coming to stand across from her at the window.

  “He did, but not in the ways you’re thinking. I’m really okay. I mean, I don’t know if I would be if I’d been there longer. He may have just been biding his time. Or his urges aren’t constant. I don’t know.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

  “Is what Constance said true? Is the Queen really dead? Are the other girls on some kind of murderous rampage?”

  “Yes,” I said. “The other girls are being controlled somehow. The Prince said there was some kind of chip in our heads. Luckily for us, ours don’t seem to be working right. That’s why we didn’t fall at the Choosing Ceremony.”

  “I can’t believe they’re still alive. I could have sworn they were dead that day.”

  “I’d thought so too, as did the Queen—or at least that’s what she said.” I couldn’t keep all the information straight. There had always been too much secrecy, and now it seemed like everything was shrouded in doubt.

  The window overlooked the backyard and riding meadow. Some of Prince Byron’s men were out by the stables, causing me to wonder if any of the horses were still here. I should have asked Kale to bring back Misty when he picked up Ariel. I didn’t know how my legs could handle riding yet, but I so longed to kick Misty into a full gallop and leave the world behind for a little while.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked, placing a gentle hand on Piper’s hunched shoulder. “There should be some food left. I’ll probably go into town to get more so we can cook a proper dinner.”

  Piper shook her head. “Not right now. I’ll come down later.”

  “Okay,” I said. “This is your home now, so whatever’s ours is yours.”

  “I have a home,” she said. “Hopefully, one day I’ll be able to return.”

  “Probably. When this is all over, I don’t see why not. Just right now it’s better to stick together. You don’t want to put your family in any danger by returning home.”

  Piper agreed and returned to silently staring out the window. I gave her a hug, anticipating a one-sided embrace, but she hugged me back.

  Continuing down the hall, it seemed that most everyone else was up. Downstairs, I found Kimera in the kitchen with Constance, cleaning the counters while Constance leaned against them, talking.

  “Hi, Miss Victoria,” Kimera said brightly. “There is some leftover pasta I recently put away, if you’d like some. I can reheat it.”

  “Thank you, I said. “But I can do it.” I went into the refrigerator and gathered a few containers of food and made myself a plate. At the palace, she was my assistant, but she was so much more than that now. She was my friend. And she wasn’t a staff member here.

  “We’re running low. There was only so much I could make.”

  “If there isn’t anything else pressing, I’ll go into town after I eat.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Kimera said.

  “I don’t want to stay in this house alone,” Constance said. “I’ll come too.”

  The pasta was still lukewarm, so it hadn’t been in the refrigerator long. I shoveled one forkful after another into my mouth and didn’t put away the leftovers until I’d finished. By that time, Kimera was already going through the pantry, making a list of what she thought we should have in stock. Constance didn’t look interested in helping, but she seemed to feel safer in the kitchen with us.

  “I talked with Piper,” Constance said. “She’s always been quiet, but now it’s like pulling teeth to get her to say anything.”

  “I think she’s still shaken up,” I said, taking inventory of what we had in the refrigerator and freezer. We were nearly down to soon-to-be-expiring condiments.

  “She doesn’t have a mark on her. I made her show me.”

  “And you wonder why she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

  “I was just trying to help.” Constance hopped up onto the counter, kicking her heels against the lower cabinets.

  “Give her time,” I said.

  With no help from Constance, Kimera and I finished a grocery list, then the three of us headed out. I didn’t see the Prince or Kale as we made our exit, but this was a big estate and I only looked from the kitchen to the front door. To keep from being recognized on the street, I borrowed a long cape with a hood from Lady Ramsey’s closet and a large pair of dark sunglasses from Johanna. On the way, we did happen to pick up three more strays. Mina, Ariel, and Annabelle wanted to join us for the walk into town. Three more sets of hands wouldn’t hurt, and I always enjoyed more time with Mina.

  Six pairs of arms were able to carry quite a lot, but the walk home always seemed longer than the walk into town. My arms were beyond aching when I dropped my two bags onto the kitchen counter with a thud. I had no strength left to be gentle.

  Mina, Ariel, and Anabelle dropped their bags on the floor and decided there were enough people to put the food away, so they all scampered off.

  “This seems like a lot of food, but it isn’t going to last long with everyone crashing here,” Constance said.

  “We’ll make it stretch a few days,” I said. “Which should be enough time to get the regular deliveries started again.”

  As we started putting away the groceries, Kale rushed into the kitchen. “I think you’ll want to see this!” he exclaimed.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Come on,” he insisted.

  “We have to—”

  “I’ll get the food in the refrigerator,” Kimera said. “Go on.”

  I thanked her, then Constance and I followed Kale through the house and into the primary living room. It was full with nearly everyone currently residing there, all eyes glued to the wall-mounted television.

  Newscasters were discussing the state of Westeria and our ties to Easteria. A red ribbon at the bottom of the screen announced the Queen’s death and said that details were still emerging. Then the screen cut to a pre-recorded press conference of… Bethany, standing at a raised podium on the steps of the Capital Building. Her hair was back to the length it had once been—the style I’d emulated at the Foundation Day conference—most likely a wig. Dr. Crane and his associates stood off to the side, as well as multiple heavily armed soldiers. The camera panned out to show thousands of people gathered on the front lawn, spilling into the streets.

  “It is with deep sadness that I announce my beloved mother, Queen Dorothea Hart III, was discovered d
ead in her bed early this morning. The palace security team, in cooperation with the Capital City peacekeepers, are investigating the circumstances of her death and will provide details as they become available.” Bethany started off strong, but soon succumbed to tears before the spellbound crowd. She really did look convincing, taking a moment to collect her composure.

  “I know there has been a lot of recent controversy regarding my health and possible conspiracies circulating about my legitimacy. My mother, the Queen, did everything in her power to shield me from you while I struggled to recover over the years. I don’t agree with everything she did on my behalf, but all her actions stemmed from love. She loved me and she loved her Kingdom, but there were times when she had to choose which best to serve.

  “The doctors you see behind me have worked tirelessly to help me recover from my deteriorating condition—and have been with me since before I can remember. I owe them for the opportunity that I can now stand before you and deliver this painful message. But out of great pain will come triumph. I will work to build us into a stronger, even more unified kingdom. I will continue my mother’s work to build our relationship with Easteria, which has suffered even greater losses than we have.

  “I had hoped I’d be more experienced in the running of the Kingdom before my mother passed the torch onto me, but I am surrounded by the advisers she trusted, and together we will make this transaction as painless as possible. I thank you for your patience, support, and prayers. Queen Hart’s funeral will be scheduled for this coming Sunday and my coronation, the following week. The palace will release more details soon. Thank you for being here this morning. Let us all remember Queen Dorothea Hart III for the good she did, the love she shared, and the many of us she helped.”

  Bethany stepped back from the microphones, turning to her left to nod to the doctors, then to her right to nod to other official looking people, some of whom I knew I’d seen at the palace at one time or another.

  The crowd erupted into a piercing roar of questions, praise, and protest. Nothing specific could be heard, but it was obvious the reactions were mixed.

 

‹ Prev