45. King Lawrence
King Lawrence
What was a kingdom without control? Without… power?
As I looked out of my palace window towards the city, I saw nothing but obstacles.
I saw complications. Here I was, king, and I couldn’t even get the one woman I wanted.
Hell, I couldn’t even get her to call me.
The realization was like embracing barbed wire.
Penelope should have been mine. She could… be mine. If not by choice, by force.
It did seem like that was the only option. She was too influenced to see the truth. I’d have to reprogram her. She’d need to be broken all over again, that way I could build her up like Vaughn had.
It wouldn’t be easy, but I could do it. And I’d enjoy the process of wiping the bastard from her mind. Once he was gone, Penelope would naturally fall in love with me. And then I could make her strong again. A true queen capable of… dark things. Immoral… things.
Picking up my phone, I hit Penelope’s number for what had to be the fiftieth time. I’d been trying to call all day. I’d even called Vaughn’s number a handful of times.
Nothing.
This was not how I was ending my day. I wasn’t going to stop. Not until someone gave me answers. After all, I couldn’t take someone who was dead. I needed Penelope alive. Whether she passed the trials or not was irrelevant. The result would be the same.
I’d have her.
And Vaughn would die… at the hands of the masked captor.
Then, with a good year of programing, Penelope could return to society, free from her obsessed kidnapper—the man I happened to kill, somehow. I’d think about that story later. We’d marry and fairytales would be made. It was perfect.
“Your Majesty?” I looked up from my desk, taking in Dominique as he rushed forward. “Sire, I’m afraid we’ve had an incident at the back of the palace. An armed man—”
“Can you not see I’m busy? What about him? You’re here telling me about him, so he obviously didn’t get in.”
“Yes, but—”
At George appearing at the door, I waved Dominique away. “Later. I’m busy. Leave me. George, come in.”
The man shifted, nodding as he turned and headed away. I waved George to the desk faster.
“I want to hear everything. Tell me about The Order. About what you’ve heard about Penelope. All of it.”
There was a hesitation in his step which had me immediately snarling.
“You’ve been gone all day. You have to have learned something more.”
“Actually, I haven’t, Sire. They’re on to me. I spent the majority of the time trying to lose them so I could report back to you. They’re good. Too damn good. And there’s a lot of them. They have tactical teams. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. Not here, anyway.”
“What are you saying?”
George paused before he shrugged.
“If I go back, they’ll catch me. They’ll kill me, and then you really won’t have answers. I can’t go back to where I believe the entrances are. It’s too risky.”
Power. Control. I was losing more by the minute.
“Hold on.”
I hit The Sultan’s number, not able to stop from pacing as it began to ring. On the fourth one, he finally answered.
“Well, well… You’re Highness.”
I rolled my eyes at his annoying title for me. As if I wasn’t king, or worthy enough to be one.
“I can’t get ahold of Penelope or Vaughn. I know you have insight. Is she alive?”
A deep sound registered that I couldn’t quite read. Anger? Amusement?
“Why should I tell you anything? You’ve made a mess for yourself.”
“Things are better now. I talked to Vaughn. I know they’re busy and can’t update me, so I just want to know if she’s okay.”
Seconds drug out.
“She’s alive. She’s passed the first two trials but not easily. The Judic wasn’t entirely in favor of her last answer. They had her lashed five more times. One for each of them. It made a mess of her back. She passed out. They’re stitching her up now.”
Horror mingled with lust, twisting my insides with butterflies and bludgeonings. To see her bleed… to make her bleed.
So long as it was me doing it. I didn’t like the thought of them hurting her. It had to be me. Only me.
“Clearly, they’ll postpone the rest of the trials for another day until she heals.”
The Sultan laughed. “Absolutely not. She will continue once they finish. She fights next.”
A curse left me as I reached up, gripping my hair.
“You’re watching. Do you have video? I want to watch, too.”
“This is Council business. You’re lucky I’m telling you anything at all.”
Control.
Power.
Mine…
“You’re right. Thank you for letting me know. Will you at least call me after the fight and let me know if she’s okay?”
Hesitation.
“I’ll call.”
“Thanks.”
I hung up, knowing to keep my mouth shut. I lowered to my desk, holding my hand up to George as I began to write.
You will take Penelope from her home soon.
Blackwood House
17 Whitmore Terrace
Kensington
He nodded, and I continued writing.
You will await my instructions. In the meantime, prepare my private cottage in Esher.
More details soon.
Again, he nodded. I crumbled the paper, heading over to the fireplace and throwing it in.
I was done playing games. Soon, I’d have Penelope to bend, break, and create, and she’d be better than the original. Better than she was now. I’d make her perfect, but first… I’d make her pay.