by VJ Dunraven
He riveted bloodshot eyes at her, shook his head with his jaw clenched and looked away.
Sophia kneeled before him and hugged him tight. William had always been a solid presence in their lives. The older brother who took care of everyone, listening patiently to their troubles, lending a shoulder to cry on and offering sound advice.
But in spite of all his good qualities, he was never one who would ask for anything, much less talk about his feelings. No wonder his emotions ran deep. And in these rare episodes when his tolerance grew thin, his temper spewed out like molten magma.
Only recently, after he'd met Elizabeth, did he start to open up a little. But even then, it took all of them to corner him into expressing himself.
“Come, let's sit on the bed.” Sophia eyed the only piece of furniture left intact. “If you can't talk about it, then show us what happened.”
He kept his gaze averted and didn't move nor reply.
“William, please allow yourself to vent what's troubling you.” She rubbed his back to soothe him. “Don't bottle it all up. Let it go. We're here for you.”
He rubbed a hand on his brow and flicked his eyes to everyone in the room. Then, to Sophia's relief, he quietly headed towards the bed and sat in the middle, as all four of them positioned themselves in a half circle in front of him.
He extended his arms with palms facing upwards. Sophia touched two fingertips to one of his hands and watched Silvia, David, and Philippe do the same.
Sophia closed her eyes and felt the instant jolt of electricity as torrents of information flooded her brain. She was like an observer standing in the middle of a movie—, only none of it was fiction and she could feel every single emotion.
His pain became hers. Then, as suddenly as the experience had invaded her mind, it abruptly ended at the climax, leaving her exhausted and distraught. When she opened her eyes again, Silvia was clinging to William's arm with her head on his shoulder. David exchanged a disconcerted glance with Philippe.
“I'm so sorry.” She took his hand and pressed it against her cheek.
His haunted, silver eyes met her gaze. “I love her,” he whispered in a hoarse, tormented voice.
“I know.” She kissed his forehead and suppressed the urge to cry for him.
A tap on the door sounded.
“Your Highness?” the house manager called from outside. “Colonel Alexus Gunter is here, requesting to see you.”
Colonel Gunter waited with a sense of disquiet in front of the fireplace in the large study room, uncertain if the Prince would grant him an audience or have him arrested. He had intentionally delayed his visit, hoping that the past few hours had thawed the Prince's violent temper. The last thing he wanted was to get into another altercation.
The door opened and slammed behind him, followed by swift, heavy footsteps. The Colonel swung around to face Prince William, who wore a grim expression.
“What do you want?” The Prince said hotly. “You have the presumptuousness to show yourself here after what you've done!”
“Your Highness.” He inclined his head to show his deference. “I came to apologize and explain myself.”
“Indeed?” The Prince regarded him with unconcealed disdain. “Then I decline to accept your bloody apology. Get the hell out of my house!” He slashed a forefinger towards the door.
Colonel Gunter clamped his teeth together and controlled his compulsion to clash with the Prince. He only had one chance to repair his mistake. He must tread carefully but promptly, before things between them spiraled out of control.
His actions had caused a great deal of distress to the Prince, and as a man, he could understand his reaction. If their roles were reversed, he had no doubt that he himself would've committed murder without mercy.
“I nevertheless extend my sincerest apologies, Your Highness. But before I go, please, hear me out. Princess Elizabeth and I are not having an affair. What you saw was a result of my own folly. I succumbed to the temptation of my affection for her and kissed her against her will.” He swallowed, gathering the fortitude to say what he needed to declare. “I’m in love with her—, I'm not going to deny it.” His scarlet eyes met the Prince's silver gaze. “But she's not in love with me. She's very much in love with you.”
A trace of emotion fleetingly softened Prince William's countenance and he blinked repeatedly, before the harshness in his features resurfaced once again. “How dare you speak in such a manner in my presence! If you think I'll believe this rubbish you've told me—, then you're mistaken! Get out of my sight! Now!”
Colonel Gunter acquiesced with a single nod. “I shall be flying back to base in England shortly. If you see fit to punish me for my actions, you know where to find me. Thank you for your time, Your Highness.” He bowed his head to show his respect and strode towards the door, hoping his forthright confession had somehow succeeded in initiating the possibility of a resolution between the Prince and Elizabeth.
“Hang in there, Princess,” he murmured as he crossed the threshold to the long hallway leading to the foyer. “If he really loves you, he'll come back to you.” Yet try as he might to be optimistic for her, all he could feel was the oppressing heaviness in his heart.
As the Colonel made his way towards the circular driveway to his waiting limousine, his beeping phone interrupted his gloomy thoughts. He pulled it from his coat pocket and stared in horror at the Universal Code Red Coordinates on the screen.
A distress signal from Major Greer! Elizabeth was in grave danger!
Just as he was about to call General Bradford, an incoming call came in. He instantly recognized Elizabeth’s number. “Elizabeth! Are you alright?” he asked, as he dashed towards his vehicle.
“Chad! Oh, God! There are so many of them!”
“I’ll be right there—“ He heard her yell something to someone. She screamed, and then suddenly, all was quiet.
“Hello? Elizabeth? Elizabeth!” His heart pounded in panic, when he realized the line went dead.
“Out of the car, Mathews!” Colonel Gunter bellowed as he reached his vehicle, yanking his bewildered driver off the driver's seat and tossing him out the door. Within a matter of minutes, he had torn off his dress uniform, donned his combat suit, and armed himself.
As he sped towards the massive gates, he called General Bradford, who had gotten the alert and was already preparing reinforcements.
Less than fifteen minutes after Colonel Gunther had left the Palladian, Prince William watched General Bradford as he strode with a grave expression across the living room towards him.
“Your Highness.” The General inclined his head. “We received an SOS from Major Greer, the Officer in charge of guarding Princess Elizabeth. Colonel Gunter went ahead and rushed to the scene. I'm taking more men—”
He raised a hand, not waiting for the General to finish. “Summon my cousins at once. We are coming with you.”
Chapter 60
Battle of the Descendants
Inside the white BMW, Elizabeth peered over Bryan's shoulder as they huddled tightly together. Major Greer and his men had disembarked from the SUV and protectively surrounded their car.
“Who are these people?” Bryan gathered her closer. “What do they want from us?”
Major Greer inched backwards by Elizabeth's door.
“Princess Elizabeth! Are you all right?” he asked without taking his eyes off the enemy, who had been pressing forward at a disturbing degree.
“Y-yes, I'm fine.” Elizabeth's heart went to her throat as she realized how far outnumbered her guards were.
“You know them?” Bryan exclaimed next to her. “Why did he call you Princess?”
Elizabeth was about to reply when she saw the glint of metal in the moonlight. “Oh my God, Major! Watch out!”
A dagger lanced towards their direction and would've broken through her window if Major Greer had not caught it in mid-air.
The single offensive act served as the catalyst that set the battle in motion.
As the fighting escalated, Elizabeth became more frantic. Major's Greer and his men were struggling from the overwhelming number of opponents attacking them. Their protective perimeter around the car had been breached. The enemy was advancing rapidly.
A hand shot through the glass window on the driver's side, catching Bryan in a chokehold.
Elizabeth screamed and grabbed it at the wrist.
Bryan began gasping for air.
She desperately pulled, wrenched, and clawed at his attacker's arm.
Bryan arched his back and shuddered.
“Oh, God, no!” Tears rolled down her cheeks as Bryan got a hold of her sleeve and stared at her with blank emerald eyes.
All of a sudden, the hand on his throat loosened. Elizabeth saw Major Greer through the broken window just as he hacked off the attacker's head.
“Move away from the windows!” the Major bellowed.
Elizabeth glanced around Bryan's car. Even if they sat on the floor in the middle, the moon roof was still right above their heads. She darted her eyes to the rear seat. The trunk!
She squeezed between the front seats to the backseat, forcing the backrest forward, until there was enough space to squeeze into the trunk.
“Oh, God, Bryan! Please, don't die on me!” She reclined his seat all the way down and dragged his limp form by the arms.
He didn't move nor make a sound. Then, just as she had managed to push him through the trunk opening, someone grabbed her ankle and pulled.
She pitched forward, screaming, grappling for something to latch on, but she was hauled swiftly towards the front of the car. She twisted on her back and kicked furiously at the red-eyed assailant, who had entered through the driver side door with the broken window.
His grip slipped. She slinked away and bumped into the folded rear seat backrest behind her.
Bryan!
She quickly pushed the backrest up to its original position to conceal him and braced herself against it.
The aggressor lunged at her.
Colonel Gunter did not like the look of things as he plowed his vehicle through the massive number of enemy soldiers. His men were alarmingly outnumbered. The odds were seriously against them.
His pulse began to quicken as he spotted a black SUV and a white car up ahead. Major Greer and his team were valiantly trying to hold their fort, but their defense was crumbling. Even before he brought his car to an abrupt halt near the SUV, the enemy soldiers were already pouncing on his vehicle.
Then, in the middle of the pandemonium, he heard her scream.
Elizabeth wrestled with her captor inside the tight confines of Bryan's car. She scratched, bit, elbowed, and punched him, but he simply laughed at her. He seized her flailing legs and began to tow her out the driver’s side door. She clutched the center console to delay him. The lid popped open.
Pens! She grabbed one, plunging it straight into her assailant's left eye. He abruptly released her with a howl. She hastily crawled to the front passenger side and reached for the door handle, but he caught her by the hair. Just when she thought her neck would snap backwards, the windshield crashed.
Another assailant. She froze, expecting to meet her death.
Only to see the most beautiful, angelic face, emerging from the darkness.
“Chad!” Immense relief was evident in her voice.
“Don't look!” He wielded his silver sword at the stunned soldier still grasping a clump of her hair.
Two seconds later, Colonel Gunter pried off the soldier's dismembered hand from her mane and threw out his headless carcass from the vehicle.
“Are you all right?” He tipped her chin and saw that she was trembling.
Without a word, she scrambled into his arms and cried.
“Sshhh ... It's okay. I got you.” He stroked her tangled tresses. “But I need to get you out of here. Fast.”
She gazed up at him. “What about my friend?”
“What friend?”
She glanced in the direction of the rear seat.
Chad inhaled the subtle, but unmistakable scent, masked by the bloodshed around them. “You have a human with you!” he exclaimed in astonishment.
“I hid him in the trunk. Please Chad, do something!”
He shook his head. “I'm sorry, but it's not safe to take him with us. You are my priority. I can't let anything or anyone hinder me from protecting you.”
“Chad! Please—, I can't leave him here!”
He framed her face in his hands. “Elizabeth, listen to me. I'll send one of my men for him. But right now, I need you to cooperate and be brave for me, okay?” He kissed her on the forehead, and then removed her from the battered vehicle.
Chapter 61
Battle of the Descendants (Part II)
The battle was at its peak when John Drake and Colonel Reynolds arrived. John frowned at the number of casualties on the ground. Had he underestimated their enemy?
“Your Grace, look!” Colonel Reynolds pointed at the European Army Assassins encircling a white car.
John watched in dread as the one assassin he'd rather not re-encounter, emerged from the car with Elizabeth by his side. “Damn it to hell! Why is Colonel Gunter here?”
“Your Grace, I'm as puzzled as you are,” Colonel Reynolds exclaimed.
John cursed viciously. “Let's cut this fight short!” He snatched Elizabeth's mother by the arm and dragged her towards the center of the violent conflict.
“Well, if it isn't the Angel of Death!” The bold declaration rang over the carnage.
Swords paused in mid-strike and the fighting ceased.
Major Greer and his men took the distraction as an opportunity to immediately reestablish their fort, forming a circle and facing the enemy on all sides.
Colonel Gunter instinctively shielded Elizabeth with his body and swiveled his head towards the owner of the brazen voice.
“Mom!” Elizabeth cried behind him.
The Colonel narrowed his eyes at the man who held the former Queen captive. John Drake, the Duke of Northern Peninsula, and the most wanted fugitive! He had been on top of his hit list for the past seventeen years.
“Let's trade, shall we?” The Duke held the blade of his sword against Elizabeth's mother's neck. “You can return the former Queen to England and complete your unfinished mission, in exchange for Elizabeth, so I can fulfill mine.”
The former Queen made a muffled sound, throwing her head from side to side in protest, attempting to dislodge the gag tied across her mouth.
“Go to hell,” Colonel Gunter hissed.
“Then I'll gladly take the Queen with me.” John Drake pressed the sword blade into her skin.
Elizabeth's mother grimaced and bit down on her gag.
Blood seeped from her cut and trickled down to her shirt.
“Please don't hurt her!” Elizabeth surged forward. “I'll go with you!”
Colonel Gunter extended his hand to block her. “Elizabeth, don't,” he rasped over his shoulder. “It's a trick. Let me handle this.”
“Perhaps I wasn't being clear.” John Drake slid the blade a few inches more across the Queen's bleeding throat. “I intend to decapitate your mother, if Colonel Gunter refuses to hand you over.”
The former Queen began to sputter, choking on her own blood. Her gag turned bright red.
Colonel Gunther knew that her wound was deep enough to slit her gullet. John Drake was aware that his ruse would never work on him, so he purposely made the Queen suffer to entice Elizabeth to the bargain instead.
Elizabeth took the bait. “Stop! Stop, please!” She rushed onward, pushing away the Colonel’s outstretched arm. “Let her go! I'll do whatever you want!”
Colonel Gunter grabbed her by the right wrist, just as John Drake reached for her left arm.
“I've no more use for you!” The Duke slashed Elizabeth's mother's throat with the sword he held with his other hand in one swift stroke.
It all happened so fast, yet Elizabeth saw everything
in slow motion.
The jagged silver blade lacerating her Mother's delicate flesh ... the spray of her Mother’s blood spattering on her face ... the sweet and salty taste of the crimson droplets that slid to her lips ... her mother's large, lifeless eyes rolling back in their sockets as her head was severed ... the dreadful crack when her Mother’s skull hit the asphalt before it rolled to her feet ...
Elizabeth stared blankly at her mom's decapitated remains and felt numb, floating in a dream-state.
A sharp pull jolted her. Chad—, she must go to him. Another strong jerk drew her away. She blinked, shaking away the dull ringing in her ears and recognized the man who had dealt the lethal injury to her mother. Chad and the man were in a tug of war for her.
All around them, the battle had resumed, though she didn't notice exactly when. Only one thing penetrated her trance. She must get away from the dangerous man.
“Get your hand off me!” She struggled, wrenching her arm, but he wouldn't let go.
Chad suddenly gave her a forceful yank and she crashed against him—, with the man still holding on to her arm. She caught the sheen of a silver sword and heard the snap of fracturing bone.
John Drake stared in dismay at his arm, amputated at the wrist in the blink of an eye by Colonel Gunter. He'd miscalculated how agile the Angel of Death was with a sword.
“Colonel Reynolds!” he bellowed, ignoring the shooting pain as he located his severed hand and reset it back into place.
Colonel Reynolds materialized from the clashing mob. “Your Grace! Are you all right?” He ripped off a wide belt from a fallen soldier and wrapped it around the Duke's arm and hand, to secure the contact into place for the few minutes it will take to regenerate.
“Where the hell is General Robinson?” John yelled over the commotion.
“I haven't seen him, Your Grace.”
“Damn it! His team was supposed to deal with Elizabeth!”
“Most of his men have fallen, Your Grace.”
John cursed loudly. “Gather all the men you can and go after them!” He pointed at the retreating figure of Colonel Gunter and Elizabeth quickly disappearing into the throng. “And order all Officers to burn the casualties' remains. We must not leave any prisoners for the European Army to interrogate!”
