His Uncrowned Queen

15. Vaughn

Vaughn

Hope… or a lie?

I replayed my words to Penelope on a loop for days. I dissected them. Twisted them in every interpretation that I could.

Did I believe her to be the only woman capable of stepping into the role of my future queen? Or did I want her to be the one so badly that I was trying to ignore the doubt that I feared she’d be killed attempting to try?

I didn’t know this woman, and she didn’t know me.

Sure, I’d watched her for the last few months.

We’d talked and I discovered everything I could.

The true test would come with action. It would be trials and force-feeding her information to see how she could handle the stress and danger associated with taking over the Crown.

And it may come down to that. I prayed for evidence, but the truth was, I wasn’t letting another generation go by without seizing what belongs to me. To my family. To my own heirs someday.

There was something between me and Penelope.

Chemistry, absolutely. But something more.

Comfort. An ease. Familiarity as if the two of us were made for this moment.

I could not shake the certainty how in my bones I was made for this woman.

I wanted her to be my queen. I needed her to be, and if that meant I’d destroy every piece of her to force her into the role, I just might.

If I was going to lose her, shouldn’t I still have her with me?

Even if she were only a shell following my every order?

My every need? Protecting me like I planned to protect her?

Every hour we spent together, our bond only grew. She’d wake up crying from nightmares, and I’d hold her. She’d tease me about something, and I’d laugh. I’d almost kiss her…and the eagerness to make her mine in all ways tore my insides apart, looking for a broken piece of me to sink into.

“I can’t stand this. Do you think I ever loved them?

” Penelope looked up from the book she was reading.

A book I’d gone out and bought her because I knew reading was her passion.

“V, I thought I did. I used to love—I’m a horrible daughter.

I hated them. I was ready to marry anyone just to escape, and now they’re dead, and I feel… nothing. Nothing but relief.”

Her eyes lifted while she took peeks at me. “I’m such a horrible person. If I wanted to be honest, I feel better than I ever have. Am I the monster? I used to think it was them but.” She stopped. “I think it’s me.”

I shifted in my chair. I was across the room where I was going over new reports from The Order.

Sweat was covering my face, and I knew my hair was drenched under the mask.

Even though it was cool in the underground room, I couldn’t focus when all I thought about was whether or not I was making the right decision.

I could let her go. It wasn’t too late. I could pretend this never happened and go on with my quest for the perfect queen.

One I felt nothing for but trust and commitment.

But then what? Did I just live my life while Penelope used her family’s money to secure a title?

The king didn’t have to worry about her father’s reputation now.

If Redmond was right about whispers of his interest, he’d come for her.

I felt it in my gut. King Lawrence would want what was mine if he ever discovered our link, and he’d do whatever he could to take it. To destroy it.

No. I couldn’t let that happen. Penelope would stay with me. She was mine. I’d have to keep her here until I had no doubts. Maybe it would take years… A decade or more. I could wait it out for her. I could—

“V?”

“You’re not a monster. They deserved far worse than the deaths they were gifted. If I hadn’t been worried about you, I would have made them suffer far worse than they did.”

She grew quiet, and I blinked through the sting of sweat in my eyes. Aggravated, I stood.

“Bed. Mask.”

Penelope only hesitated a moment. She placed in her bookmark, setting the book down. When she headed to the bed, I met her there.

“Arms up. Spread your legs.”

Alarm flashed. “You’re going to put back on the cuffs? Did I do something wrong?”

I didn’t explain. I couldn’t with the way my pulse was racing.

I secured the cuffs on her ankles, moving to her wrists.

I didn’t dare look into her over-expressive eyes.

The mask was by her pillow and I grabbed it, sliding it on her face.

The moment I had it secured, I pulled off my own mask, breathing heavily through my nose.

The cool air had my lids closing as I tried to slow the heartbeats that kept slamming into my chest.

“V, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Penelope.”

“What were you working on. Is there anything I can do to help?”

A frown and smile fought. She was forever thoughtful.

She always seemed to be worried for me. Her heart was so big.

In a matter of weeks or even days, I was going to start killing pieces of it.

She wouldn’t be the same woman by the time I finished.

How was that fair? How could I do that to her? To me… no… for me.

“What do you know of history. Of the past?”

Her lips pressed together as she seemed to think.

“How far into the past?”

Too soon.

“In general. I’m not looking for a specific year. Just… the past.”

“Hmm” Teeth bit into her lip, and I couldn’t tear my gaze from the little quirks that lured me in.

“Well, I know the Crown has been unstable for quite some time.” My eyes jerked up, but I stayed quiet as she continued.

“It’s always one war after the next. Or, if we’re talking more recent, the threatening of them, anyway.

My family—my father.” She made a small sound, and I wasn’t sure if it was a sigh or cry.

“My father was hung up on the past. We used to be titled. Did you know that?”

“Yes.”

She gave a small nod at my soft reply.

“I assumed you knew. Everyone does. It’s all my parents ever talked about.

It’s why they were so determined to have me marry a title.

To… get ours back, in a way. It wouldn’t, of course, but our line would carry on, back where it needed to be.

I used to get so angry when they’d talk about it.

I hated the thought for a long time, honestly, and even considered somehow sabotaging it any way I could.

” She stopped. “But… how unfair would that be to my own children if I were to do that? The Taylor name, it once held such prestige. Such worth. One day, the pride just settled inside of me. I saw my parents’ desperation, even if I hated what they did to me because of it.

But I respected what we’d once been. Or what we could be again if I… if I did what was right.”

I sat on the edge of the bed.

“What do you know of how your family lost its title? That happened roughly, what, two hundred years ago?”

Even though I asked, I knew the exact date. It was four months after my family had been betrayed and renamed The Black Line.

“My father used to tell me stories on how Old King Evans got in over his head. Sorry, I think he was referred to as King David at the time, but I’m going to call him by his last name because I can’t be sure.

I was so young when I heard the stories.

The only history they really cared for was the part I was going to fix.

Anyway, my father used to say a lot of blood was spilt during those days. That we were lucky we even survived.”

She swallowed hard, continuing. “So many were accused of being traitors. King Evans even supposedly told my great-great-great-however-many-ago grandfather that we’d get our title back the moment we proved our innocence.

We were innocent, my father claimed. It was all hearsay back in those days.

Evidence was staged. Nobility was framed.

My father said it was dark times. So many wanted to kill King Evans because the Crown was so unstable.

He was issuing new titles, destroying old ones.

Anyway, my father said we found evidence.

Before our innocence was proven, the king died. ”

“Really.”

“Yes.” Penelope let out a deep breath. “His son, who took his place, refused to honor his father’s word, so, here we are, untitled. Although, King Lawrence did hint—”

“Hint? You’ve met King Lawrence?”

Her mouth opened only to shut.

“I have. On three separate occasions.”

“Three?” I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my tone, and I hated it. “Three,” I continued. “Tell me about your meetings.”

Penelope swallowed hard, and I could sense her hesitation.

“The first time was by accident. It was when I was at the university. My class took a trip to the palace. I went despite I shouldn’t have.

I was running a fever and was so dreadfully sick.

I had no business attending, but I was already so far behind in my lessons that I didn’t want to miss anything.

“I was weak, and we were walking so far. I sat down to rest, determined to catch up after a quick break. It was only maybe ten to fifteen minutes later when I got up and tried to find them. I was lost, and one of the guards had left his post. I had no idea I wasn’t allowed to go in that part of the palace.

Needless to say, I was detained. King Lawrence just happened to be passing by when he saw me.

He stopped, gave me an odd look, and headed over to us.

I begged his forgiveness, trying to explain.

He didn’t even address me at first. I guess my face was really red.

He walked up, lifted his hand to my forehead and said, ‘you’re most definitely sick. Take her to the Charlton Suite.’”

“To say I was shocked was an understatement. Before I could tell him I was fine and beg him to let me find my class so I could leave, he said, ‘so nice meeting you Ms. Penelope Taylor,’ and he walked away.” She smiled softly. “He knew who I had been all along.”

Heat poured from me as I seethed. Of course he already knew who she was. The planning for a wife would have already been in the works for years. Hell, it was still going on. Once you saw Penelope, there was no forgetting her.

“Did he come to check on you while you were in the suite?”

The smile was gone.

“He did.”

“And how did that go?”

“I don’t know if I want to tell you. You’re clearly angry.”

My brow drew in.

“I’m not angry—”

“Jealous, then?”

“Jealous? Don’t be absurd. Answer.”

Seconds passed. “Yes. A doctor came in and checked me out. King Lawrence showed up as the doctor was finishing up. It was a virus, no surprise. King Lawrence insisted I stay until it passed and I was better, but I declined. Finals were coming up and I wanted to be in my room where I could study.”

Something in me shifted and lightened.

“The king offered to let you stay for days if that’s what it took and you told him no?”

“Yes. I told him it was probably the flu and I was fine. I appreciated his hospitality, but I couldn’t stay.”

I laughed, not able to help it.

“And how did your parents take that?”

“Are you insane? I most certainly did not tell them. I would be dead right now if my father knew.”

“You had the perfect opportunity to spend more time with the king and you rejected him.”

“I rejected his offer, not him. Not that it matters.”

Anger spiked but faded as she patted around the comforter searching the bed for my hand. I didn’t give it as I watched her.

“You said three times.”

“Yes. The second was about a week later. He had me brought to the palace. We had tea. He asked me questions. Mostly my interests and about school. I feel he thought I was too young. I got that impression, although I don’t believe I appeared immature.”

“How long were you there?”

Penelope paused. “About … six hours? Someone interrupted us and said it was urgent. He wasn’t happy.”

“Six hours?”

I stood from the bed, pulling at the collar of the long sleeve black shirt I wore.

“Believe it or not, we had a lot in common.”

“Six hours and he only left because he had to? I’d say so.”

I cursed under my breath.

“And the third time?”

All emotion left Penelope’s face.

“The day of the party. We had another great talk over tea. We strolled the gardens. That was the last time.”

I nodded, knowing she couldn’t see me.

“The pictures.”

“Yes. It was the first time I had ever gotten drunk. I… was happy. I went a little wild. He didn’t call after that.”

“You seem disappointed.”

Her mouth twisted. “What I am is ashamed and angry. Those pictures cost me everything. My parents took me out of school. They wouldn’t let me leave their sight. They were forcing me to marry when I didn’t want to. This isn’t about the king, V. This is about my life being ruined that same day.”

I sat back down, grabbing her hand.

“I apologize. Perhaps I was a bit jealous. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. We are talking about King Lawrence, though. Penelope… he gave you serious thought. You do realize that.”

“Of course I do. He would have never of chosen me though. For one, I am not titled.”

“He could have fixed that.”

“You sound like my father, but you’re right.

He hinted as much. It’s the main reason I never told them the extent of my meetings with King Lawrence.

I got hounded enough over that, and I didn’t want to get their hopes up, nor did I want to get in trouble for probably ruining it because of those pictures. ”

“I don’t think you ruined it,” I said, softly. “The king could and probably would have reestablished your title if you would have continued seeing him.”

“But I didn’t because of the embarrassment I caused.”

“What you did is fairly common these days, Penelope. Everyone has some sort of scandal attached to their name. Trust me. What you did wasn’t that damning. Unflattering, especially for the king, but it was no dealbreaker. Just a delay.”

“I don’t understand.”

I pulled my damp shirt over my head.

“Ego is a very sensitive thing. We’re talking about the king.

You weren’t fawning over him, holding your breath until he called for you again.

You were living. You were having fun. Learning of those pictures would have been a punch in the gut for him.

He clearly hasn’t chosen a queen in the last year, so…

” My voice was barely audible at the end as my mind raced.

“He truly considered you, Penelope. If he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, he may return.

” My jaw tightened as I felt myself become territorial. “Especially now that you’re missing.”