38. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
SEBASTIAN
The four walls of my room have never felt as suffocating as they do right now.
Funny, how this always acted as a space for me to get away from the bullshit lingering inside the palace walls.
That space is gone now. Especially when the woman, whom I have been so lucky to call a wife, stands in front of me, ready to destroy everything.
I’d be completely amused by this if it wasn’t my life Mary is trying to ruin.
“Say it,” I murmur.
Mary huffs out a tight laugh, the warmth of her breath smacking against my face, but I don’t pull away. Showing her any ounce of weakness would be a colossal fucking mistake. That much, I know. She’s a snake, and I’m nothing but prey in her eyes. One slip and she’ll strike.
“Get dressed, my darling.” She says sweetly before stepping away from me. The grip I had on her wrists evaporates, my fingers now twitching by my sides. “You are expected in the parlor in five minutes.”
I watch as my father escorts Mary from my room, his hand comfortingly placed on the dip of her lower back. My mind whirls with worry, tilting into chaos as the door to my room closes and I’m left alone to absorb what just fucking happened.
The undeniable need to panic has settled into my blood, but I can’t allow it time to fester as I grab for the pair of royal blue dress slacks and a white collared shirt.
I stare at the clothes for a moment before quickly pushing my feet through the pant legs.
My fingers tremble with each slip of a button through its designated hole and I force myself to let out a deep breath.
There isn’t time to panic right now. Another weakness shown is another nail in a coffin.
It’s time to grow up, Sebastian.
“Fuck,” I hiss through gritted teeth, my nostrils flaring. I need to get it together. Whatever Mary has done, I can undo it. Veronica is pregnant with an heir and as soon as the baby is born, my father will have to step down and I will be the one running things, fully.
“Fuck,” I snarl again, my fingers gripping at the strands of my hair until I can feel a burning sensation overwhelm my scalp. My jaw ticks and I flex it to release the tension before I completely combust.
I allow one more breath before storming out of my room, not caring to shut the door behind me.
My heart is screaming, thrashing. It’s telling me to find Veronica, to make sure she and our baby are okay, but I know better.
No one will harm them right now. Veronica is safe.
She is safe because of the seed that was planted.
The seed that is growing inside of her.
The baby allows her peace.
It grants her immunity.
The thought brings little comfort the closer I get to the descending spiral staircase.
If anything, my chest is tighter with the growing number of staff below.
My mother stands beside Mary who sits on a red velvet chair, holding an abundance of unused tissues.
She’s speaking but I can’t make out what she’s saying from up here, nor do I care to try.
Whatever comes out of my wife’s mouth should stay there.
My gaze slides to my father; he’s speaking with a man I don’t recognize.
The man is short, with thick smoked grey hair covering his lips and cheeks.
His clothes are fitted around his plump middle to make it look thinner in a different light.
He carries an air of arrogance and sneers with disgust at whatever my father seems to be saying to him.
The turquoise jacket tells me he isn’t from Hawthorn.
Turquoise is Tria’s kingdom color.
Mary’s kingdom.
“Father,” I say, a hint of hesitation lacing my tone as I slowly descend the staircase. Every pair of eyes in the parlor turns up toward me, but I don’t dare stop. Weakness isn’t an option. No one will know anything until I allow it, until I know for certain what Mary speaks about.
The man my father was speaking to, leaves with a single gesture of a hand. Everything about the action has my eyes narrowing on the older version of myself heading straight to me. His eyes are hard, disappointment spread across his aging face.
I’ve always known the inside of the palace walls to be silent, but I’ve never quite heard silence as loud as this. The echo of my heart bounces against my eardrums, rattling my brain until I feel a threatening pinch behind my eyes.
“We have to prevent a scandal, Sebastian.” My father says slowly, his eyes unwavering. They’re intense in a way I haven’t seen before. “The advisors and I are all in agreement, your acts cannot go unpunished.”
“My acts?” I say, borderline bewildered because it was only this morning anything came to my attention… by a dramatically induced manic wife. “What have I been accused of, exactly?”
“Oh save it, Sebastian!” Mary’s wail pierces through the room. “We know about the affair, how that wench of a handmaid has wormed her way into your heart.”
Mary’s accusation bellows out into the room and if the whole staff hadn’t known what happened before, they do now.
I don’t look away from my father, I can’t.
He’s assessing my every move and I know if I start arguing back, it won’t be in my favor.
I’m almost positive nothing I do or say will fall in my court at the moment.
“Affair.” The word is bitter on my tongue. “You have had…numerous affairs, ones that mother has—”
“Your mother has forgiven me for all of my past doings.” My father’s eyes light up with rage. They dare me to continue to provoke him. “I do not need to attest for my sins, nor was I stupid enough to get caught red handed, Sebastian.”
I force myself to stay silent, my fingers curling into fists by my sides.
He has my punishment in place already. There is no argument to bide my time.
“You’re going to Tria.” The announcement is firm, unforgiving.
My father must see the confusion on my face, he continues, “You will defend your wife’s honor and fight for her family's kingdom. You go without argument or when the child is born, I will have the girl killed.”
War. My punishment is war.