Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Tragic King
Sparrow Beckett
Belfry Publishing
Copyright © 2017 by Sparrow Beckett
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in review, without written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and events in this book are fictional. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.
This book contains scenarios that should not be attempted or emulated.
Cover
Rebel Book Design
Editor
Nerine Dorman
Chapter One
How had he not recognized his own eyes looking back at him?
Severin studied his brother – a younger version of himself he hadn’t known existed – and tried to decide whether to give in to the urge to slam the door in his face. He’d wanted to speak to him, or thought he should, but Loïc showing up on his doorstep unannounced was more than a little presumptuous.
It was hard to remember that his childhood exile had nothing to do with this boy. He hadn’t even been born when Severin had been sent away.
Looking at Loïc was like looking at a more civilized version of himself. Loic was well groomed, almost as tall as Severin, with no visible tattoos or piercings, and his politely muscled frame was expensively dressed. Altogether, he gave the impression of being a man famous for his wealth – like someone whose finances Rodrigo would manage.
Money, power, self-possession. However, a hint of madness lurked in Loïc’s pale blue gaze.
Severin wanted to ask him to wait on the front steps so he could confer in private with Minnow and Rodrigo, but this wasn’t the type of moment he’d get to do over. Restraining his usual urge to be a prick, he stepped back, gesturing him in.
“You caught us off guard. We’re not used to visitors.”
Loïc gave him a dazzling smile then moved past him into the foyer. He nodded politely to Minnow and Rodrigo then craned his head, taking in the huge formal foyer with the domed skylight.
The dogs had fallen strangely silent, and were gathered near Minnow’s bare feet.
“As banishment estates go, this one is well appointed,” Loïc observed, sounding relieved. “I’d always imagined you living in an institution for some reason.”
“The family discusses him openly?” Rodrigo’s expression was murderous.
Severin threw Ro a look to shut him the hell up. His loyalty was appreciated, but this kid didn’t deserve the weight of what had happened settled on his shoulders. Severin had already been sent away before he was born.
“Our siblings and I talked about him openly, but only amongst ourselves. He was like a ghost story we’d tell if we had half a chance. Martine wouldn’t speak of him, though. But forgive me...you are?” Loïc asked Rodrigo, extending a hand. He hadn’t tried to shake Severin’s hand, which had been a relief. Just how much did Loïc know about him?
“Rodrigo Solis. I’m the one who sent you the message.”
They shook hands and Severin suddenly felt like a child at a meeting of adults. He couldn’t think of anything to say and wanted to take Minnow and the dogs upstairs and get away from this scene. Could he go out to the forge and forget this was happening?
Loïc’s gaze seemed to take in Rodrigo’s state of dishevelment. His brows rose. “Well then, I’m in your debt for letting me know my brother wanted to meet with me.” They turned to Minnow.
“This is Minnow Korsgaard,” Rodrigo said formally, “Your brother’s fiancée.”
Loïc lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing over it, his gaze lingering on her face for long moments, then on her collar. “Enchanté, mademoiselle.”
Charming. The fucker was charming – and probably a hell of a lot closer to Minnow’s age too. He didn’t like this kid coming into his space and touching his people.
His woman drew away her hand, her smile neutral. She didn’t seem at all charmed, but maybe that was wishful thinking.
“Mister Leduc, why don’t you bring your brother to your study, and I’ll arrange for refreshments,” Minnow suggested.
He glanced at her sharply, not wanting her to leave his side.
Rodrigo put a hand to her shoulder and coaxed her toward Severin. “I just made coffee. I’ll get some tea too. I’m sure Severin will want you there.”
They both looked at Severin. He held out his hand to Minnow, and she moved to him, twining her delicate fingers with his.
They led Loïc through to the study. The puppies followed behind them, a strangely subdued trail of fur, as if they could sense the tension.
Severin took a seat on the couch, pulling Minnow down beside him. He gestured Loïc to the chair opposite the one Rodrigo usually chose. His brother sat, leaning back in the leather club chair with an ease and class that Severin envied. Compared to his brother, he felt huge and coarse.
“So in your letter you said that our mother is dead.”
“Yes, Martine is dead.”
“What happened?”
“A house fell on her.”
Severin blinked at him, not sure how to respond.
“That’s how it would have happened if there was poetic justice in the world, but sadly, it was a heart attack. Quick.” His expression blanked briefly before being replaced with what seemed to be his pleasant resting countenance.
A moment of silence passed before Loïc slapped the arms of his chair.
“Well, enough of that unpleasantness. I’m not here to pretend I regret the bitch is dead.”
Minnow stifled a sound of surprise. Who knew candor was hereditary?
“You weren’t close?” Severin finally managed to say. He didn’t know how to feel. Their mother had cast him off, but sons weren’t supposed to rejoice over their mothers’ deaths. Besides, gloating wouldn’t change anything. He’d never wanted her dead. He’d only wanted to know why she’d thrown him away.
“I have no idea what you were told, mon frère, but you were lucky to escape when you did.”
Hell. Barely past seven in the morning, and he was already eying the drink cart. What had the others endured? Surely not the same, or they would have been sent away too.
“I’ve always wondered if some of what I remembered was a dream, or if I’ve misconstrued or misremembered things.” There were too many clues though. Too many flashbacks.
“Not only is everything you remember likely true, but I’m sure there was more you’ve forgotten.”
Minnow’s grip on his hand was tight, but he felt, in a way, as though it was the only thing holding him together.
“Were you used like I was?” Severin asked. There was no sense in tiptoeing around the subject, and he still had no fucking patience for pleasantries. Besides, it seemed like Loïc wanted to get this over with. His brother had the answers he’d wanted for most of his life.
“No. That specific hell was all your own.” A fleeting hint of compassion flickered in his gaze, but it disappeared before Severin could find it annoying.
“I brought coffee, tea, orange juice. I wasn’t sure
what people wanted.” Rodrigo came into the room with a tray, setting it on the padded coffee table on which they often fucked Minnow. Where they’d branded her.
Rodrigo and Minnow served, then Rodrigo made to withdraw, but Severin touched his wrist.
“Stay.”
Dark eyes wide, Ro looked from him to Minnow then took his usual seat. Not everyone needed to know his secrets, but Rodrigo deserved to know just as much as Minnow and Church did. Like Minnow and Church, Rodrigo gave a shit.
Loïc glanced at Rodrigo then shrugged, accepting Severin’s decision to include him. “After the mistakes she’d made with you, she was more cautious with the rest of us.”
“It wasn’t a mistake. She gave them permission. The last time she was even in the room.”
Loïc waived a hand dismissively. “Yes, yes. She meant to whore you out. She just hadn’t trained you up to it, and she started you too young.”
“God, not you too,” Minnow murmured.
Rodrigo had gone very still, but remained grimly silent, which Severin appreciated. He’d never told Ro any of it, but he seemed to be catching up quickly. Maybe he’d guessed.
Loïc ignored Minnow’s comment, and kept going as if he was ripping off a Band-Aid. “I was trained – groomed for it like she hadn’t taken enough time to do with you. I was raised to understand it would be my responsibility to provide entertainment as part of the business. I was trained to be clever and charmant.” He waved a hand, as though he couldn’t think of the English equivalent. “To smile and make her contacts feel important. My fifteenth birthday was spent exchanging my ass for a lucrative trade deal with a formal rival. At least he was gentle.” He saluted Severin with his mug of coffee.
Severin’s stomach churned. He wanted to bolt from the room and spend some time breaking things, but he forced himself to stay. Part of him was relieved he hadn’t been the only child his mother had allowed to be abused, but he was ashamed for feeling that way. He’d hoped the others had been spared – or even that he’d misremembered – but no such luck.
“So that’s been the last nine years of my life, for the most part.”
“And the same thing was done with our sisters?”
He shook his head. “No. They were spared that humiliation, at least. Lovely girls. Smart. Married off young to wealthy old men who wanted virgin brides. Our second sister is already widowed at twenty-seven, and is wealthy in her own right.”
“You’re close to them?”
“No.” He laughed. “Our shared childhood is something we’d all rather forget. You’re the only missing piece. You were like a boogeyman to us growing up, a threat about what would happen if we disobeyed. Later, when we were older, you became the hero, instead.”
“Hero? Did you hope I’d come to rescue you?” Severin asked, his voice hoarse.
Loïc waved a dismissive hand. “No, no. It was enough that you rescued yourself. When I asked the first man I was given to what on earth had given him such a scar on his dick, he told me it was you. All of your siblings are very proud. Such a scar – and you only having your milk teeth as a weapon.” He slapped his hands together and grinned in approval. “I wish I would have had your nature, but I’m made of meeker stuff.”
They sipped their coffee companionably for a few minutes. Rodrigo, of all people, still seemed to be struggling the most – his face had gone tight and his dark eyes snapped with rage. Maybe he should have told him later, in private. Minnow had stayed outwardly calm through Loïc’s explanation, but she was still clutching Severin’s hand in a death grip.
As for himself, Severin wasn’t surprised by any of it, really. If anything, he was pleased his sisters hadn’t been abused. He hoped, even though they’d been forced into political marriages, that they were happy. There was probably something wrong with being thankful his sisters had only been subjected to arranged marriages.
“Enough about us, though. Our sister, Aurelie, always remembered you, and told us all sorts of stories about you when we were small children – bits and pieces, since she was too young to remember more. She remembered there was a big brother, and she refused to shut up about you. She was very worried you’d been lost in the woods. Years later, mother told us all about how you were sent away for refusing to entertain guests – that you were little more than a beast. So...” He cocked his head and seemed to suppress a grin. “What exactly is wrong with you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with him,” Rodrigo snapped. “He’s the best man I know.”
Minnow was glaring at Loïc too, but Severin only sighed.
“No one knows what’s wrong with me. I’m a dick and I hate people. There’s probably a name for it but I don’t give a shit if there is.”
“Fair enough,” Loïc replied, amused. “But as much as you say you hate people, apparently people don’t hate you.” He gestured vaguely at Rodrigo and Minnow. “I think they’re both ready to toss me out on my ear. Forgive me, mon frère. I’ve been anxious to meet you for so long that I’m probably doing this poorly. I also haven’t been quite right since Martine died. What does one do when they’re suddenly and unexpectedly freed? It’s such a pleasure not having to be entertaining and polite anymore.”
“It’s fine,” Severin said, leaning his head back on the couch.
“You’ve lived here all along?”
“Yes. First with a woman and her son – my mother and my brother. When she died, another woman came to take her place. She died recently. Between them, Rodrigo, and now Minnow, they’ve more than made up for what I lost.”
Loïc nodded, pressing his lips together. “I’m not here to try to replace anyone, Seb – je m’excuse – Severin. I’d always fantasized she’d send me away too, so I could live with you in your creepy institution.” He leaned in and whispered, “It’s less creepy than I expected, but it really does feel like the cherubs are watching.”
“It’s easier if you don’t make eye contact with them,” Rodrigo advised drily. At least someone’s manners were still functioning.
Loïc laughed, glancing at Severin as though asking him to join in the levity, but he wasn’t in the mood to fake social niceties.
“Martine dying must have changed everything for you,” Minnow said gently.
Loïc’s gaze rested on her, and his expression went from amused to touched, maybe even grateful. She had a way of reading feelings that awed Severin, but he didn’t know how he felt about her being kind to this unknown brother. Church he trusted implicitly with her – and Rodrigo too – but this guy was basically a stranger who shared some of his genetics. He’d have no qualms about trying to lure her away.
His brother cleared his throat. “Yes. Everything has changed for me. Since she died, I’ve been trying to sort out my life. I sold her businesses, took petty revenges on the men who used me cruelly.” He shrugged. “I divided and redistributed her assets. The house I burned to the fucking ground. Don’t tell the insurance company I said that. Some of that money is yours too.” He chuckled. “Now we’re all dreadfully wealthy, and I never have to suck another dick for her as long as I live. You were the last piece of the puzzle. Well, you and what to do with the rest of my empty, fucked-up time in this world.”
If he was hoping Severin would have answers for the latter, he was sadly mistaken.
*
“I can’t help but like him,” Minnow said to Severin later that night, after they’d sent Loïc off to bed at what would have been very late – or early the next day – in France. They’d spent the whole day giving him a tour of the grounds and generally getting to know each other.
Severin snuck a look at her for what felt like the hundredth time since Loïc had rung the doorbell. Her cheeks were pink from the walk outside and the wine, and possibly from the company. He grunted.
“You don’t like him?” she asked in a whisper.
They’d put him at the other end of the wing, away from their rooms, but who knew if he might drop by for something.
“He’s fine,�
� Severin said, building up the fire. The bedroom was pleasantly cool, but considering he’d just signaled Minnow to strip, she was probably cold. She was so small the cold went right through her if he wasn’t careful.
“It must be weird meeting him. You get to see what life would have been like if you hadn’t been sent away.”
He sat in his favorite chair. “I should have been there to protect them. If I hadn’t attacked Monsieur Charles, I would have been there to shield them from all of it.”
“If you hadn’t attacked him, the abuse would have started earlier for Loïc. You boys would have made her more money.”
“Rentals are a lucrative business, but I guess she had to learn the hard way that they tend not to last as long if you don’t take care of them properly.”
She put her hand on his shoulder and he flinched before he could catch himself. When she tried to step away, he caught her wrist and drew her into his lap. “Sorry,” he said, hugging her close. “I want you right here. You just surprised me.”
“Cuddling? We’re going to have to invite your long-lost brothers over more often.” She grinned at him, and he stole a kiss. “Hey.” Tentatively, she caught his face between her hands, her brows drawing together as she searched his expression. “Are you okay? You held it together while Loïc and Rodrigo were around, but if you need to talk or cry or flip out or work at the forge, you do what you need to do. It’s a hell of a lot to process. And then there’s what happened last night. I don’t know how you feel about it.”
He didn’t regret telling her that he loved her. Had that been just last night? It felt as if a lifetime had passed.
“Just...” He wasn’t sure where his sentence was going, but felt as if Loïc’s arrival heralded the beginning of the end of Minnow’s patience with his fucking issues.
“Just?” she asked, grinning up at him with a mischievous glint in her gaze. “Just what? Give you another massage? Run so you can chase me through the house and do terrible things to me on the floor of the ballroom again?”
“I’d thought about giving your asshole a break until at least tomorrow, but if you insist...”
Tragic King (The Dominant Bastard Duology Book 2) Page 1
