Throne of York

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Throne of York Page 5

by Charlotte Byrd


  Chapter 11 - Easton

  While he presses me…

  I stare at him. What does he know exactly?

  “I know, Easton. I know about the competitions. I know how the king picks his wives every other year.”

  “You do?” I whisper.

  He nods and asks me about our plans again. All doubts about whether or not this place is bugged vanish from my mind.

  He would never ask anything like that or admit anything like that to me if he still had an inkling that our conversation was being listened to.

  “Well?” Tiger prods me.

  I look away from him, unable to meet his gaze.

  “No,” I say after a moment.

  My cheeks flush with shame.

  “I want to say yes that we had plans about exposing this place, but we didn’t. We were young. We just wanted to get away. Back then, I still had something of a warm feeling toward my father and brother. After my mother’s death, they were the only family I had left. I didn’t want to make things hard. I just wanted to…get away.”

  “I can see that this is painful for you to talk about,” Tiger says. “I’m sorry about that.”

  I shrug and look away.

  “It is, but it’s also good to get it out. I loved Alicia, but I also saw her as a way out of here. She gave me the courage to step away from this place, and I’m just so sorry that she had to pay the ultimate price for that.”

  I bury my head in my hands.

  He puts his arm around me and I don’t push it away.

  I haven’t had genuine human contact for a long time and it feels good to create a connection, however tenuous.

  “I’m sorry,” I say after a moment, lifting my head. “I didn’t mean to get so…emotional.”

  Tiger gives me a moment and then jumps into the next line of questioning.

  How did I find out about the King’s order to kill Alicia?

  Does anyone know that I did?

  What did I intend to do about it?

  How did I feel about it?

  I answer all of his questions to the best of my ability and he continues to make notes without much commentary.

  As we talk, one hour turns into two and then into three.

  But instead of feeling tired and drained, I feel invigorated.

  I had forgotten how nice it is to talk to someone who is willing to listen.

  “Thank you for being so forthcoming, Easton,” Tiger says, flipping the pages of his yellow legal pad to the front.

  He had managed to fill up close to half the pages with his scribbles.

  I hope that they are useful.

  “I hope you don’t lose that thing,” I say. “It’s got a lot of useful info to put me away for good.”

  “In terms of motive, yes,” Tiger says. “But it’s also a good record to exonerate you.”

  “That’s if you believe everything in there, which I doubt they will.”

  Tiger gives me a little nod.

  “You believe me, right?” I ask. His eyes meet mine.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “You don’t sound…convinced.”

  “I don’t have to believe you to represent you.”

  Somewhere in the pit of my stomach, anger starts to tingle and rise.

  “I know lawyers like to say that. At least, I’ve seen lawyers say that a lot in movies, but that’s not what I want you to say. No,” I correct myself. “That’s not what I want you to believe.”

  He shrugs.

  “What is it that you don’t believe?” I demand to know.

  “Why is it so important to you that I do?” he asks instead.

  “Because I’m fucking innocent. I’m an innocent man sitting here in a cell, awaiting trial, so that the jury, or the judge, or whoever is going to do it is going to find me guilty of doing something I should’ve fucking done!”

  My anger springs me out of my chair and onto my feet.

  “Do you know how that fucking feels, man?” I demand. “It feels like shit. I should’ve killed that son of a bitch. I should’ve put a bullet right through his skull. Or better yet, I should’ve locked him inside a boat taking on water, so he could suffocate or drown or both. So he could spend the last few moments of his life trying to do something to break free all to no avail. But I didn’t.”

  “Why?” Tiger asks calmly, even though I’m standing a few inches away from his face ready to punch him.

  “Because I was in love. I loved Alicia, at least I thought I did, but then I met Everly. I don’t want to compare. It’s not fair to Alicia, but when I met Everly…it was, game over, you know? This is the woman for me. This is the woman I will love forever no matter what. No matter if she breaks my heart and stomps on it and then throws it into the garbage. I will love her forever because you can’t help who you love. And that’s why I didn’t avenge Alicia’s death. Because I thought I had another chance to start my life over. I thought that my father would let me marry her and we could start our lives together. And I took a chance. I believed him. What a fucking idiot I was.”

  The words topple over each other and come out all at once, like a geyser or a waterfall, strong and powerful and unstoppable.

  “So, the thing is that,” I say after I gather my thoughts a bit, “if you don’t believe me, then I don’t really need your representation. I’m done believing in my father and in York. I can represent myself just as well. I just don’t want someone up there who doesn’t believe me. I can be convicted of this crime just as easily without you.”

  When I finish talking, the anger that’s been boiling up within me suddenly simmers down.

  I’ve said my piece and that’s enough.

  Without another word, I turn around and walk away from him.

  There are guards on the other side of the door, but they are turned away from me.

  “Easton.” Tiger gets up and catches up with me right before I reach the door to get the guard’s attention.

  I don’t stop, but then he puts his hand on my shoulder.

  “Easton, I’m sorry,” he says. “I believe you.”

  I turn around.

  Face-to-face with him, I read his face.

  Is he telling me the truth or is he just telling me what I want to hear?

  “I didn’t mean to cause offense.”

  I shrug and take a step back.

  I need the space to judge him more accurately.

  He doesn’t say anything for a moment, so I wait.

  I’ve said enough and now it’s his turn to make his case.

  “Easton, lawyers are typically not concerned with whether their clients are guilty or not guilty,” Tiger says.

  I cross my hands across my chest. This is not what I want, or need, to hear, but I continue to listen.

  “Whether a client is guilty or not guilty has no effect on our ability to do our jobs,” he continues. “But I want to make one thing absolutely clear to you.”

  He takes a step forward and looks straight into my eyes.

  “I believe you and I will do everything in my power to help you."

  Chapter 12 - Easton

  While someone surprises me…

  Tiger leaves a few minutes later and they tell me to wait. I’m not complaining.

  Here, I can look out of the window at the puffy clouds hanging low against the blue sky. I watch as the long leaves of the palm tree reach for the heavens above.

  It sways in the breeze and is free in all the ways that I am not.

  I expect them to come for me in a few minutes, but when a guard does appear, he just tells me to wait.

  “You have another visitor coming soon.”

  He doesn’t elaborate and leaves soon after.

  But he does have a little smile on his face and that curl of the lips makes me wonder.

  My heart can’t help but skip a beat.

  Another visitor?

  What if? Can it be her?

  I imagine Everly walking through the door.

  What a sight
for weary eyes.

  Her hair will bounce with each step and her eyes will twinkle when they meet mine. She will wrap her arms around me and I will know that everything is okay, even if it’s just okay for this moment.

  She will ask me about how I’ve been, but I will interrupt her and insist on hearing about her first.

  How is she?

  How have they been treating her?

  Has Abbott threatened her again?

  Is she safe?

  These are all the questions that have run through my mind in loops ever since I’ve been trapped here, in purgatory.

  The guards haven’t said a word and Tiger didn’t know a thing.

  And now…finally…I will have my answer.

  My hands get sweaty with anticipation.

  I’m going to see her so soon.

  I try to focus my attention on the window outside, but I keep glancing back at the door. Any minute now, I’m going to see her.

  I’m going to run my fingers through her hair and pull her close to me.

  I’m going to inhale her beautiful scent and press my lips onto hers.

  And there, in her mouth, with her body wrapped around mind, I will be home again.

  The door swings open.

  And he walks through it.

  My head starts to buzz.

  My vision gets blurry.

  I blink and he’s a few feet closer to me.

  I blink again and he’s right in front of me.

  Cocky.

  Entitled.

  With his shoulders back and with that arrogant smile on his face.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  He shrugs, staring me down.

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Abbott?” I say, raising my voice.

  “I’m here, just to say hello. I miss you, brother.”

  “I doubt that.”

  It takes me a moment to recover from the shock of seeing him instead of Everly, but I do my best to not let that show.

  To show any sort of vulnerability around Abbott is a big mistake.

  He will pounce on it immediately and I will live to regret it.

  “So, so, so,” he says, taking a few steps away from me and then back toward me.

  He’s pacing, biding his time.

  He is making me wait.

  Then something occurs to me.

  I don’t have to be here.

  I don’t have to listen to whatever lies he’s about to spew at me.

  Without another word, I walk past him and toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” he yells after me.

  I don’t bother to answer him.

  Instead, I wave for the guard and wait for him to open it.

  “I want to go back to my cell,” I tell him.

  “The Prince of York has requested to speak with you,” the guard says. “You will talk to him for as long as he wants.”

  His words take me aback, but he just turns around and closes the door in front of me.

  “I’m the fucking Prince of York!” I pound on the window. “Doesn’t that fucking matter?”

  The guard just turns his back to me.

  “Fuck!”

  “You see, my dear brother, you may be the Prince of York, but our ranks aren’t exactly the same anymore.”

  “What happened to being innocent until proven guilty?” I ask, turning to face him.

  “Eh, you know, this is York. Things are a little different here.”

  I shake my head.

  “What the fuck do you want?” I ask.

  “Well, I just wanted to come here and see how you are,” he mocks me. “How are you holding up? Father is so worried.”

  “I’m sure,” I say, my voice dripping in sarcasm.

  “You have to understand it from his position. Dagger was one of his closest friends. They go way back. And when he found out that you killed him—“

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  “Of course not. I know that, but that’s not what he thinks.”

  How does he know that? Where is he going with this?

  “Why does he think that?” I ask.

  Abbott shrugs. “I don’t know exactly, but I have my suspicions. I mean, he did have Alicia killed, right?”

  I shake my head. How does he know all of this?

  “See, the thing is, brother, that I have a lot of eyes and ears in this place. I know what Dagger did on Father’s request. I knew that even before you found out about it.”

  Blood seems to drain away from my body and pools somewhere in my toes. I feel my face turning a light shade of green as I let his words settle into my mind.

  “C’mon now, don’t look so shocked,” Abbott continues.

  “What do you want?” I ask. “Why are you here?”

  “I just wanted to talk with you. Maybe make a deal of some sort.”

  “Deal?”

  “Yeah, I wanted to see if you were possibly open to making some sort of deal.”

  I narrow my eyes.

  Abbott is smart.

  He’s a sadist, but he’s cunning.

  He is not reaching out to me because he wants to help me.

  I have something he wants.

  But what?

  Chapter 13 - Easton

  While he asks me for something…

  Abbott takes a moment to gather his thoughts.

  He must really want this.

  I know him, at least as much as I possibly can know him.

  Abbott has been a dark part of my family for a very long time, but to say that I know him would be a grave misunderstanding.

  I don’t know him, just like he doesn’t know me. But I do know how to read him.

  “What do you want, Abbott?” I ask with my patience growing thin. “I’m tired of games.”

  “I know, me, too.”

  I scoff at this, but keep my mouth shut.

  Abbott is nothing but games.

  He likes them because he likes to win.

  But the only reason he ever wins is because he almost always has an advantage.

  “I want to help you,” Abbott says.

  His face softens a bit.

  There’s an actual look of concern on it.

  “This…this whole thing…” he says, pointing his finger around the space. “This isn’t good. Father has never done anything like this before.”

  I shrug.

  He’s right.

  I know he’s right, but what can I do about it?

  “I mean, he sent me away. He sent you away. To teach us a lesson. But a public trial like this? He really thinks you killed him, Easton. And he’s out for blood.”

  I stare straight ahead.

  At him, but through him at the same time.

  My eyes feel like they are almost glazing over.

  “Easton, I’m here to help you. Don’t you get that?” Abbott shakes me out of my stupor.

  Everything in my body is screaming not to believe him, but that one aching feeling in the back of my mind is bringing out doubts.

  What if he’s not lying?

  What if he’s actually here for me?

  “I’m sorry I was such a dick. I’m sorry about everything, okay?” Abbott says. “But I’m just worried about you. Father is pissed, and he wants revenge. He can’t believe what you’ve done.”

  Suddenly, my eyes jump into focus.

  “What I’ve done? I haven’t done anything!”

  “You didn’t?”

  “No, of course not. This whole thing is a…sham.” I scramble around for the right word, but nothing comes to mind.

  “Don’t you believe me?” I ask.

  I didn’t know this before, but there’s something inside of an innocent man accused of a crime he didn’t commit that screams out to anyone who will listen.

  Abbott has been my brother and my enemy for approximately equal amounts of time in my life, and yet even with him, I feel the need to prove myself.

  Someone has to believe me. They just have t
o!

  “I thought that you did,” Abbott says slowly.

  “I didn’t,” I say quietly. “So, what kind of deal did you want to make?”

  Without missing a beat, he says, “I want you to plead guilty.”

  It takes me a moment to process this request.

  “What? Hell no!” I add quickly.

  “Hear me out, okay? I want you to plead guilty to butter Father up. He has been having some issues with Dagger and I don’t think he’s as hung up on his death as he wants everyone to think.”

  I shake my head.

  Abbott takes a step closer to me and puts his arm around my shoulder.

  “If you agree to plead guilty, then I will go to Father and try to convince him to give you leniency. I will ask him to go easy on you.”

  “And why would he do that?”

  “Because you’re his son after all. But you know how he is. He will never back down. He will never admit a mistake. So, if you go ahead with this trial, then you’ll go away for a very long time.”

  “I’m probably going to go away for a very long time either way,” I say. “I want to at least fight for my freedom.”

  “It’s not black and white like this, Easton. Life is about shades of gray. You say you didn’t do it, but if you plead guilty, then you’ll probably get two years at Hamilton. It’s bad, but it’s not life there. And I’m pretty sure they’ll give you life if you are found guilty at trial.”

  I look away from him and clench my jaw.

  He’s right.

  I hate to admit it, but he is.

  At least, when it comes to assessing Father’s state of mind and his ability to hold on to grudges.

  “Life at Hamilton? I’d probably rather be executed,” I mumble.

  “Yeah, I was there for a few days. It’s not pretty,” Abbott adds. “But they won’t give you the death penalty.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because you’re a fucking royal. And not just a royal. A prince. No, they’ll make you suffer to the end of your days, but they won’t get rid of you. Your fate will be even worse. Everyone will just forget about you.”

  The thought of that sends shivers through my body.

  Not just because I’m a human being who doesn’t want to be forgotten, but also because of the fate that represents.

 

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