15. CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER TEN
VERONICA
We’re preparing lunch when Addie comes rushing into the kitchen. When I say ‘ we,’ I mean Georgina. Mostly.
Okay, she is doing, like, ninety-nine percent of the work while I put a salad together.
It’s kind of sad looking, if I am being honest, and I’m pretty sure a rabbit wouldn’t eat it.
One look and its small nose would twitch in disgust and run off.
The whole thing consists of crisp too-large lettuce leaves and should have been chopped up better.
There’s a handful of carrot pieces, some croutons that Georgina made from actual bread, and cucumbers shaped like hexagons because I suck at peeling the skin off.
Georgina says the skin is the best part.
I didn’t listen to her, and now my salad is a geometric disaster in the making. Gareth would eat it. Hell, he would tell me it was the best gerbil food he’d ever tasted, then proceed to spit it out when I wasn’t looking.
I miss him.
“The king and queen are requesting your presence in the office.” Addie’s voice is rushed, out of breath.
“Victoria, I trust you to finish putting the food on the plates, yes?” Georgina doesn’t sound too convinced, her ask more of a question than anything.
My chin tilts in a nod but then Addie adds a wary, “Both of you.”
“Me too?” I frown.
“Yes,” Addie confirms. “We must go now.”
Georgina’s lips purse and my eyebrows furrow, both of us confused. Why would I need to be there? The only thing I can think of is Sebastian asking for some insanity his brain concocted, but recently he’s been assuring I don’t spend more time than needed in his royal presence.
“I’m sure you’ve got something mixed up, Addie,” I say, turning back to the salad.
“It’s Miss Prim right now, Miss Pierce, and I did not mix anything up. I suggest you put your attitude and confusion aside, so we don’t prolong this further.”
Not a second later, I’m being ushered from the kitchen by Georgina.
There is only one other time I’ve been standing in this very same spot in King Deacon’s office. The room is behind one of the locked doors, prohibited unless invited or requested. No one comes in for the fun of it, and by the looks on everyone’s faces, I know this isn’t going to be a happy meeting.
The tension can’t be cut with the sharpest knife the palace has. Hell, a chainsaw wouldn’t be able to shred through it.
Mary looks as if she’s dissociating, in her own little world inside her mind.
Her eyes are glazed over, more of a stormy blue than the bright color that usually swirls in her irises.
She’s been crying, just like when she found out she wasn’t able to produce children.
For that reason alone, I’m even more confused as to why I’m standing in this room.
Logically, the only thing that makes sense is because I am Sebastian’s handmaid.
While I’m not directly involved in the situation, I’m still needed for his needs in this stressful time.
Crap. Maybe I should have brought him an espresso.
Not that Addie would have let me spare another second.
For someone so petite, she has a tight grip on me.
The moment she releases her hold, I absentmindedly rub against my arm. There are probably bruises from how hard she gripped me, dragging me from the kitchen with Georgina in tow.
King Deacon clears his throat, the sound echoing louder throughout the large room, enough to have my chest tightening and eyes snapping in attention to the man.
The King drips with authority. His presence alone is enough to have anyone trembling with fear.
More times than I can count, I have witnessed grown men leave this office with dead eyes and hollow faces.
It’s how Mary looks right now.
“We’re going to jump right in,” His Majesty starts. “This needs to not be dragged on any further for the sake of time being wasted. It’s already been far too long.”
Mary whimpers again and Addie is by her side, trying to soothe her quietly.
I look away from her, searching for the reason I am here and finding him by the window.
Sebastian’s face is void of emotion, closed off to the world.
His lips are pressed together but his jaw is relaxed.
Even his posture doesn’t give away what he’s feeling at the moment.
Arms lazily rest behind his back, fingers clasped together to keep them in one spot.
There is no tension in his shoulders. If anything, he looks bored.
Only fucking Sebastian Baros would be bored at a time like this.
“Our princess is unable to conceive children, which means there is no heir being produced as promised.”
Almost everyone’s attention is fully on the king, but I can’t look away from Sebastian, who remains staring out the large window.
His hair is disheveled, like he repeatedly ran a hand through it.
Was he stressed over Mary’s infertility?
Or, more likely, stressed he has to take time out of his day to be in this room, listening to it all.
Either way, the only emotion out of place is his hair not being perfectly styled.
“Dr. Moore has confirmed this,” Deacon continues. Mary quiets down. Thankfully.
“This complicates things for the future of Hawthorn, and I can say with the utmost confidence that we are not going to allow this,” he pauses, as if he is searching for a word that won’t upset Mary again, “inconvenience,” a rotten choice has her sobbing again, “to stand in the way.”
The queen drifts to Mary’s side, her palm settling on the blonde’s shoulder in a comforting manner.
It’s tender and intimate, a show of support to her daughter-in-law.
My focus slides away from Sebastian to watch the swirling emotions in the room.
It’s a mix of chaos, sadness, and relief that the issue is going to be taken care of.
Where does this leave Mary? Are they going to keep her around now that she is no use to Hawthorn? Will Sebastian need to marry again? If that’s the case, I cannot stay here to see him handed over to another woman.
What if he actually likes that one?
It would kill me, no questions asked.
Crap.
“Miss Pierce?” My head lifts, the momentary panic consuming my insides causing a disruption of whatever was just said. Every pair of eyes lands on me, even Sebastian’s. It’s the first time he has acknowledged me for more than a second since walking through the doors.
His gaze is suffocating. Georgina’s hand presses to the small of my back, helping guide my attention back to the king.
“Yes, Your Majesty?” I manage, my voice tight.
I can hear the blood rushing through my ears, which is incredibly inconvenient.
There is nothing I hate more than having attention brought to myself.
I’ve always been able to slide into the background, become invisible.
It was something Thomas taught me. I got really good at it… except right now.
Deacon’s eyes narrow and the tips of my ears heat under his gaze. It’s like I’m eight years old, getting in trouble once again.
Eight Years Old
“What do you two have to say for yourselves?”
Sebastian tightly squeezes my hand reassuringly.
Though right now, all I feel is total, irrevocable fear.
This is the first time I’ve been allowed in the big office, and it’s everything I thought it would be, and more.
It’s big and bare, filled to the brim with books and swords.
I kind of want to leave. Like right now.
He must feel it, because Sebastian is pressing his shoulder to mine.
“Father, this is–”
The king raises his hand, palm facing out. He doesn’t want to hear what we have to say. That was always the way, wasn’t it? We had no actual say. There was never going to be a chance to defend ourselves.
His Majesty rises from the chair for the first time since Sebastian and I were brought in.
Georgina stands beside my uncle, both wearing matching frowns of disapproval.
Sebastian’s mother hovers next to the large wooden desk as the King rounds it to tower directly before us.
The man’s head bobs in a nod and I think for a second ‘this is it, this is how I die’.
Would he kill an eight year old? Probably. I never wanted to find out, yet here I am.
No wonder my uncle is frowning.
He’s going to have to bury another loved one.
I hope I’m put next to my mom. I miss her.
The door to the office opens and without turning to see I can hear the heavy footsteps of a guard approach. Every guard walks the same. Sebastian calls them elephants.
My gaze locks onto Sebastian’s father as he is handed something from the guard. Once it’s in view, my stomach drops right out of my butt and onto the floor. Possibly my heart, too. I’m now wishing it had been a sword to cut my head off.
Instead, a small white kitten is gripped by its scruff. Sebastian’s hand grips harder onto mine and I can sense the rising panic peak with a soft gasp.
Tomato.
That’s the kitten’s name. We found him out in the garden trying to catch a rabbit. He was cold and hungry, and there was absolutely no way we were leaving him out there to die.
Tomato must feel the death sentence hanging over his small head because his big blue eyes stare directly at us, pleading to Sebastian and I to save him.
Tears gather in my eyes, and it takes all of two seconds for me to rip my hand from Sebastian’s.
I step toward the king, who dangles my cat in the air like a rag doll.
Sebastian’s hands are quick to grab my arm.
He tries so hard to pull me back that I have to grit my teeth and plant my bare feet on the wooden floor to keep from tumbling back.
“Ronnie, please don’t.” Sebastian’s words are soft, scared.
“No!” I shout, my voice coming out in a loud wave, making Tomato thrash in the man’s hold. “Put my cat down right now! If you want to punish someone, punish me, not Tomato!”
Sebastian’s grip stops pulling; he is frozen solid beside me, his hazel eyes wide in horror. It isn’t until I look up at the king, when I realize I made a mistake.
I talked back to the king.
Little did I know, my bravery that day would earn Tomato a forever home in the palace.
“Yes, as in you accept?” Deacon stares at me.
I’ve missed something important. Something I definitely should have been paying attention to.
“I…”
“No.”
Sebastian’s voice is smooth and collected, eerily so. Whatever the king wanted me to accept is clearly something Sebastian isn’t too keen on. That alone makes me want to accept, if only to spite him for all the times, he’s sent me searching for things that never existed for his own amusement.
“Sebastian, this isn’t your decision to make,” King Deacon says firmly, his jaw clenching in response to his son’s interjection.
Mary is wailing; my ears pound in sensory overlord. She sounds like she is being physically tortured.
Tears stream down her face in globs; Addie whispers something against Mary’s ear that only makes it worse. Not only are the tears overwhelming but the way she glares at me from across the room has my chest tightening. What did I do?!
“Miss Pierce.” My eyes scan past the owner of the firm voice to find Sebastian. The usual honey brown of his eyes is swallowed completely by the pupils. He’s pissed. I don’t care, because I’m also pissed. He can’t just cum all over my hand, then ignore me as if my presence offends him.
I tilt my chin up, an act of defiance. I am going to show Sebastian Baros I am not going to allow him to walk all over me. Prince or not, I’m not afraid of him.
“I accept, Your Majesty,” I say in an equal firmility, biting back the desire to smirk. Take that, Sebastian.
“Marvelous.” Deacon’s voice is light, a sense of pride filling my chest. Yet again, even as Victoria Pierce, I have won his approval over something. Bravery, as I knew it when I was younger. That part of me hasn’t changed.
It sure as hell isn’t going to stop now… even if I don’t have a clue as to what I just accepted.
It can’t be worse than the humility of being a designated cum rag.