Punished by the Prince

by Penelope Bloom

  “Because I’m not. But I’m also not supposed to take my brother’s bride-to-be out of the palace. I definitely wasn’t supposed to fuck you, either. So as far as I see it, we’ve already broken enough rules that it doesn’t make any difference. C’mon. Maybe you can give me the insider’s tour of the outside.”

  “Funny. I think I was just as much of an outsider there as you would be. But sure. Why not?”

  Elizabeth and I take my personal car outside the city. Every guard station along the way has scanners that repeatedly check my vehicle to make sure I’m authorized to leave, otherwise a unit of royal guards would mobilize to stop me. Though I’ve never thought about it much before meeting Elizabeth, for people outside the privileged social circles, our world has become more and more like a prison. The common people are more like inhabitants of some sick kind of zoo that the rich keep around for their own amusement.

  “What’s wrong?” asks Elizabeth.

  Her voice startles me, and I realize I was scowling. “It’s nothing. I’m just thinking of some things I’d like to change if I become king.”

  “Like what?” she asks.

  “I’m not sure yet. I just don’t think we’re treating the commoners right. I know that much.”

  Elizabeth pulls at her finger, making it clear she’s hesitant about what she’s going to say next. “Marcella mentioned how the royal family has done some terrible things to people. Is all that true?”

  I sigh. “Terrible things? Yes. I’m sure we have. Some of it is justice. Rules are in place and people break those rules. Some of it though… Like I said, there are things I’d like to change.”

  “Have you done any of those terrible things?” she asks.

  I glance at her. The lights of the tunnel we’re driving through cast her face in bursts of light followed by near darkness, and in those flashes I see worry written in her expression. She’s worried I’m a monster, and she has fair reason to worry. I also owe it to her to tell her the truth.

  “Yes. I have. I’ve carried out executions, and I can’t lie and say none of it was personal. I’m not a good man, Elizabeth. I can’t lie to you about that. Dark rumors surround me for a reason. But I can promise you something. So long as we’re together, I’m a better man. And I think I’ll grow to be a more honorable man than I ever thought I could with you at my side.”

  She nods. “I think you’re a better man than you give yourself credit for. I mean, we all do bad things. I think if you’re a powerful person, the bad and good both just get magnified. As long as you’re trying to be better, I’m okay with it. I don’t need to know what you’ve done.”

  I reach across to her and take her thigh in my hand. This woman… Where has she been my whole life? Why did I have to endure so many years of shadow before she came to me?

  We arrive outside a small, vaguely familiar house on a street crowded with cars. I’ve been to this house before with my brother, a few scattered times over the years when we came to check up on Elizabeth.

  Instead of a enjoyable night on the town like I had planned, Elizabeth unfortunately decided she wanted to come here and confront her parents. While I understand her motivation, I don’t see how this is going to end well.

  It’s June, but the house still has Christmas lights strung around a manger scene--though in this manger scene, it looks more like Mary and Joseph just dropped baby Jesus in the grass and the three wise men are passed out drunk.

  “This is where you grew up?” I ask as I open Elizabeth’s car door and help her out.

  She nods, looking toward the house like she’s suddenly regretting asking to come here. “It is. Honestly, it still feels like home. I thought it would feel so weird to come back, but it’s like I’ve just been on vacation.”

  “You sure you want to do this?”

  “I need to,” she says. “Those people pretended to be my family for eighteen years. They didn’t just treat me like crap, they lied to me. I want to hear their explanation to my face. And I kind of want to show you off to my sisters,” she adds with a little less confidence.

  I smirk. “Fair enough. Let’s go.”

  We approach the door and I let Elizabeth knock. After a few seconds, a man in his mid-fifties with a soft belly and a pissed off look on his face opens it. “Elizabeth?” he asks, looking past me.

  “Can we come in?” she asks.

  “We’re coming in,” I say, correcting her and pushing past her foster father--David, which I’m surprised I remember after only scanning her files.

  The house smells like burnt popcorn. I see three women sitting on the couch, bathed in blue flickering light from a TV screen as a movie blares from the speakers. Two look to be youngish teenage girls and the other must be her foster mother. The two younger girls immediately sit up so straight when they see us that they spill the bowl of popcorn they were sharing. I can’t remember the names of any of the girls, though I know I came across them in the files as well.

  “Elizabeth?” asks the thicker of the two girls with red hair.

  Her mother pauses the TV, thrusting us into thick silence.

  “I know the truth now,” says Elizabeth. “I know you aren’t my real parents. You knew who I was the whole time, you knew about my parents.” She shakes her head disgustedly, turning to look to her sisters. “You two knew too, didn’t you?”

  They say nothing, but the guilt on their faces is plain.

  Her dad crosses his arms, leaning back in a casually dismissive way that boils my blood. Foster daughter or not, he raised Elizabeth for eighteen years and he doesn’t even have the fucking dignity to look ashamed when she confronts him for this?

  “Sure. We knew,” says David. “But we never wanted you. You came in our fucking house screaming and wailing--some stranger’s baby. We changed your diapers, suffered through sleepless nights, fed you, and we gave you a place to sleep. That’s all they asked us to do. They didn’t pay us to love you. They didn’t even pay us to like you.”

  “Pay you?” she asks, turning to me.

  I frown, meeting her confused glance with confusion of my own. Payment? “There was nothing about payment in the official files. They said you were distant cousins of Elizabeth’s biological parents and you offered to take her in.”

  David scoffs. “No. We were approached by a woman who offered us more money than I could make in twenty years. She said we just had to keep the girl alive until she was eighteen. That was it.”

  “You all knew?” asks Elizabeth, looking to her foster mother and sisters.

  Her sisters at least have the dignity to look ashamed now, even if her mother is glaring defiantly back. “Anyone would have taken the offer in our position,” she says.

  I’ve heard too much to keep quiet. This may be Elizabeth’s chance at finding closure, but I can’t listen to these rats justify their behavior any longer. “Only the lowest scum would hate a child for something completely out of her control. You’re all cowards.”

  David ignores me, moving toward Elizabeth and jabbing a finger at her. “Look at you. You think you’re good enough to be a princess? You think you’re better than us now because they dressed you up like a cheap whore and dyed your hair? You were never--”

  I slam my fist into David’s jaw. For a man who talks as much as he does, I would’ve thought he’d take the punch better, but he crumbles like I hit him with a sledge hammer. The girls all jump back. Elizabeth’s little sisters clap hands to their mouths, looking from me to the groaning form of their father on the ground.

  “Elizabeth is a princess. She’s my princess. And soon, she will be my queen. You may have been too blind to see her for what she is, but I see it, and soon the entire kingdom will.”

  Elizabeth looks down at David, who is slowly bringing his knees under him and trying to get up. Her lips contort in sudden rage and she steps forward, kicking him hard in the side and sending him back to the ground.

  “Come on,” I say. “We should go back to the palace.” Her sisters watch w
ith obvious envy as I take Elizabeth and guide her out of the house. I help her into the car again and take my spot behind the wheel.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  “I don’t know what I thought would happen,” she says, staring at the dashboard. “It’s like I was expecting them to apologize, or I just wanted them to know I was happy now, like it would be some kind of revenge. But I guess I understand now, at least. They always resented me. They treated me like crap because they knew one day I’d be living a life they could never have.”

  “Do you feel better knowing that?” I ask.

  “No,” she says, laughing a little. “Not really. But it felt good kicking him, at least.”

  I laugh. “Yeah. It was worth the drive just to knock him out.”

  13

  Elizabeth

  It’s early morning when we return to the city. Roark takes us through a secret tunnel system that he says will let us out just beyond the palace gates. I feel exhausted, excited, and nervous all at once. On one hand, I know I’m actively breaking laws I don’t even understand in a city I understand even less. We could probably both be executed for being together while I’m supposed to be promised to Prince Titus, but I feel more alive than I’ve ever felt, and I know I have Roark to thank for that.

  “I don’t want this to end,” I say after we’ve gotten out of the car and started to climb our way out of some kind of underground parking garage for super cars.

  “I don’t intend to let it,” says Roark. “But it won’t be easy.”

  “Can you promise me one thing?” I ask.

  “Anything,” he says, stopping to run a hand through my hair and look into my eyes.

  “Well,” I say, feeling stupid and needy, but knowing I need to say what’s on my mind anyway. “Everything between us us moving so fast. I just want to know you feel the same way I do, that I’m not just some silly little girl falling in love with a man who might only want to have some fun.”

  “Falling in love?” he asks with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

  Oh God. My face feels like it’s on fire. I duck my head into his chest, holding onto his shoulders. “That’s not… well--I just--”

  “I’m just upset you haven’t already fallen in love like I have,” he says, tilting my chin up until we’re face to face. “Because it sounds like I’m way ahead of you.”

  I kiss him, standing on my tip toes and pulling up on his shoulders to reach his mouth as I do, but I kiss him for all I’m worth, like I’m pouring all the anxiety and hope I’ve ever felt into this single moment. And then for good measure, I reach behind him and squeeze his firm ass, biting my lip and pulling back. “Can you say it?” I ask.

  “Say what?” he asks.

  “You know. Make it official. Say the words. I… blank… you…” I say.

  He laughs. “I fucked you?”

  I slap his chest. “Roark! Don’t make me beg.”

  “Oh? Is that option on the table? Because I would--”

  A footsteps scuff against the stone ahead, drawing both our attention. I turn to see two men in royal colors running up the staircase we just kissed in, and I realize rumors are about to turn to fact very quickly.

  Roark tenses, jaw flexing as he watches after the men.

  “What does that mean?” I ask.

  “It means my brother and my mother are either about to declare war on us, or I don’t know them at all.”

  We make the rest of the trip to the palace on edge. Roark watches every guard or noble who passes us suspiciously until he’s sure they aren’t a threat. Instead of turning left through the main entrance of the palace toward my rooms, he takes me to the right, down a long corridor I haven’t seen before.

  “Where are we going?” I whisper.

  “Someplace they won’t know to look. Not yet at least,” says Roark.

  He knocks hard on a door near the end of the corridor. A man groans from inside before he swings the door open, squinting at us from sleepy eyes.

  “So it’s bad, then?” asks the man.

  Roark leads me inside without answering the man. “Elizabeth, this is Dirk. If he touches you or even looks anywhere below your chin, tell me so I can cut his balls off. Okay?”

  “Damn, I can’t even look at her neck?” asks Dirk.

  “Not unless you want to lose your balls,” says Roark.

  I smile shyly. “Hi, Dirk,” I say.

  He bows, carefully keeping his eyes above my head as he does. He gives Roark a sarcastic look to see if he approves, to which Roark nods. Someone groans from his bed and sits up. My eyes widen when I see two large breasts and a red headed girl with a freckled nose. She frowns, notices Roark, and then pulls the blankets up to cover herself.

  “Just some friends, Tayla,” says Dirk offhandedly.

  “My name is Genese,” says the girl.

  Dirk frowns, looking up and squinting. “That’s right,” he says quietly. “Tayla was the one I had with breakfast.”

  “You’re disgusting,” says Roark.

  “I’m performing a valuable service to the city,” argues Dirk. “I train these young, impressionable women in the proper methods of lovemaking and they go on to make many men happy. You should give me an award or something.”

  “You said I was your first,” says Genese.

  Dirk sighs, giving us both a look that says he will handle this. “Yes, darling. I said that because it’s what you needed to hear. Always tell your lover what they need to hear. The truth is secondary to pleasure.”

  Dirk looks smugly at us, but doesn’t notice the naked girl storming toward him with a raised hand. He turns just in time to catch the full force of her slap. She gathers her dress, throws it on, and then hurries out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

  “Well,” says Dirk. “Sorry about that. She was quite rude in the end, wasn’t she?”

  “Are there any more girls in there?” asks Roark, who prods the crumpled blankets on Dirk’s bed.

  “What do you think I am, a monster?”

  “I think you’re a perverted bastard,” says Roark.

  “You do know me well,” says Dirk.

  “You said this place was safe?” I ask hesitantly.

  “They will already be watching our rooms,” says Roark, who moves to the window and peers outside. “I just need a little time. I have a plan to even the odds.”

  Dirk gives me a sidelong glance. “When Roark says he has a plan, he means he knows who he’s going to punch first.”

  “I can hear you,” growls Roark from the window.

  Dirk continues whispering to me in the same tone. “I suspect he also has the ears of a cat. And I’ve heard he has the cock of a--”

  “Dirk!” shouts Roark, who rounds on the smaller man.

  I try to suppress my smile. Despite the obvious danger, I feel an odd sense of calm. I guess I just can’t look at a man like Roark and imagine he won’t find a way to fix all this. And even if he can’t, I’m beginning to realize I’d wouldn’t trade the few weeks I’ve had with Roark for anything, not even a long, boring life on the outside.

  “Have you fucked anyone in your guest bedroom recently?” Roark asks Dirk.

  Dirk looks thoughtful. “No, actually. Maybe I should though--a bed without lovemaking is a sad thing.”

  “We’re taking it tonight,” says Roark. “Do you have anybody you trust that you can bring in on this?”

  “That depends. It would help if I knew exactly what ‘this’ is.”

  “I’m working on that. I know we’re going to need men who aren’t afraid of getting a little bloody, and we’re going to need them to be loyal.”

  “Well,” says Dirk. “The first part’s easy. The second though? That’ll be tougher.”

  “I can’t do anything from here,” says Roark, who looks at me with regret. “The longer we wait, the more time Titus has to organize his men to capture or kill us. I’ve got to go out for a few hours.”

  “Let me come with you,” I suggest. />
  “You’ll be safer here. There’s no guarantee I won’t be surrounded by guards before I even have a chance to gather allies.”

  “Then don’t go,” I plead. My stomach turns over to think of him going out there alone. The palace is crawling with guards, and from the sounds of it, Titus has all of them in his pocket now.

  “Dirk,” says Roark, who fixes his friend with an icy glare. “Protect her with your life while I’m gone. Do you understand me? Elizabeth is going to be your fucking queen, and if so much as a hair on her head is harmed, it won’t matter how far back we go, because I’ll end you. Am I clear?”

  “Crystal,” says Dirk.

  Though his tone is harsh, Roark fist bumps Dirk’s shoulder and gives him a gruff nod, which Dirk returns.

  Roark favors me with a quick but fierce kiss and a hug, then he’s gone. I cross my arms tightly, feeling suddenly cold. “You think he’ll be okay?” I ask.

  “Roark is a tough bastard. He doesn’t talk about it like his brother, but he’s more skilled with a blade than any man I’ve ever seen. Granted, I doubt Prince Titus will instruct his guards to do the honorable thing and use the edges on their Blades. They probably have orders to shoot to kill.”

  An image of Roark bloodied from dozens of gunshot wounds flashes in my mind and makes me feel sick. I lean against the wall, looking down at the ground and frowning, trying to push the thought from my mind.

  “Sorry. I’m not exactly helping, am I?” asks Dirk.

  “It’s okay. I just can’t believe it all came to this. Over me, of all people. And I feel like a terrible person for my part in it. I feel a little sick to my stomach… If anyone gets hurt over this, it’ll be because of me.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it like that,” says Dirk. “We’re all big boys. We make our own decisions. Titus is a real prick, and good on you for spurning his spoiled ass. I personally have been waiting for a chance to stick it to him, so I should actually be thanking you.”

  I smile. “Thanks, Dir--”

  There’s a bang on the door so loud I nearly fall over in surprise. Dirk moves to his bed and pulls a chrome-plated Blade from under his pillow. He clicks the edge free and aims the gun at the door. “Get in the back room,” he says to me quietly.