29. Penelope
Penelope
What did you say to the person you loved the most concerning loss?
Was there anything to be said?
The only thing that kept wanting to come were apologies.
Blame.
We both had so much of that.
I cried.
He cried.
We laid across from each other for hours, just staring into each other’s eyes. Clutching to each other’s hands as we lost ourselves in our excuses—our reasons—in the silence that held things that hurt too badly to say out loud.
So many tears.
Too many regrets.
It was safer and easier to not say anything at all.
Hours passed.
A day.
Calls came in for both of us, but we didn’t answer them.
The entire Order was grieving for those we lost, and the doors stayed locked, barring the Masters entrance until we were ready.
It was necessary. Vaughn wasn’t sure about my suggestion at first, but he didn’t argue.
For the first time, The Order was off-limits.
We had to grieve and show our devotion to the lives lost.
I wouldn’t bend.
I wouldn’t disrespect loyalty, love, or honor.
And The Order seemed to grow closer because of it.
We ate together. Guards told stories of The Reeve and Mark, bonding and making each other laugh. For the first time, Vaughn and I didn’t hide our love. He held me closer, burying his face in my hair. Putting me on his lap. Always keeping me at his side.
When we weren’t in our room or with The Order, we were with Theodore. He was healing, but he still wasn’t ready to be walking around for too long. He held a paleness like me. A haunting new look in his eyes, despite he still showed bouts of humor.
Nothing was the same.
Innocence had died with the loss of those we loved.
Although I couldn’t remember much about the time during my poisoning, there were moments whispers would come through, or King Lawrence’s lips would brush over mine like a ghost. I wasn’t sure what was real or what I’d dreamed up while I was sick. Maybe none of it. Maybe all…
The facts were the facts, and Vaughn had the videos to prove them.
I was poisoned: with or without King Lawrence’s order.
Our men were murdered… by him.
My child—Vaughn’s child… though briefly alive within me, was gone.
As Vaughn kissed against my fingertips, staring into my eyes, I couldn’t ignore that King Lawrence had possibly done that, too.
The king rarely left my mind. I hated it. There was too much I didn’t understand. Too many questions I needed to get to the bottom of.
Had he given the order to make me sick? Were all those flashes of intimate moments real? If he knew about Vaughn, about the baby, why was I alive? Why not keep me to lure Vaughn out?
The questions were going to drive me insane.
There was no peace amid our tumultuous grief.
It was demanding with its pain. But then there was…
suspicion. Hinting. Nagging. My guilt of King Lawrence picking apart my resolve as I tried to face it all.
And what about the anger I knew would come once I told Vaughn?
He didn’t know what I feared, and I was scared to tell him.
“I don’t want this to end.” Vaughn’s words were soft, but his eyes were far from it.
They were intense. Forever watchful now.
Claiming, even in his most unguarded moments.
“It’s been almost a week.” His hand lifted to brush back my hair.
I pulled back before I could stop myself.
It wasn’t the first time, and Vaughn didn’t miss it again as his lids narrowed the smallest amount.
Silence passed between us, but I knew he was waiting, just as he’d done before. I hadn’t been ready then… I wasn’t sure I was ready now.
What was real? What wasn’t?
I held to the questions, weighing them. Vaughn’s face flickered as he took in mine. He was reading me. Studying my every move.
“Vaughn, we need to talk.”
“I agree.”
“I don’t want you to be mad.”
“At you?”
My mouth opened, only to close. “I don’t know.”
His gripped tightened on my hand. I looked down between us at our hold to each other.
A long moment passed before I began. “My… memory during that time.” I paused, trying to find the right words.
“There are things I remember, but I don’t know if they’re real.
” I took in the slight drop of his lids.
Anger, but he kept quiet. “The first thing I remember after passing out on the plane’s bathroom floor was talking.
King Lawrence was.” I stopped, searching through a sludge of colors.
“He was holding me, close, in his arms. He was talking, but I can’t remember what he said.
I awoke again when we entered Glenbrae. I remember Lord Summerlyn rushing towards us.
I was fighting the king, trying to go to Summerlyn, but the king wouldn’t let me go. ”
My lids lowered and the scene was barely there anymore.
“I remember the blood. I remember screaming. They were taking off my clothes. I was calling for Lord Summerlyn while he was arguing with the king. He was trying to convince him to allow him to help me. He hid the brand as they were checking me. But then… nothing.”
I opened my eyes, seeing a pain in Vaughn’s gaze that made me feel sick.
“I don’t know how long after that that I awoke again.
I’m not sure I ever fully did. What I remember was an awareness of the darkness…
and him. He.” I stopped, giving my head a hard jerk as to deny what I somehow knew.
“He was brushing back my hair. Talking to me. He’d…
” My hand reached up, touching along my cheek.
“He’d trace here, moving down to my lips.
He’d whisper something and—” My eyes jumped back up to Vaughn’s.
“Kiss me. Soft but… sometimes harder. I couldn’t fight him off or push him away.
Sometimes he’d…” I moved my hand to my chin, supporting and feeling him all over again.
“Hold. Not hard but secure. Or angle my face to his. He’d hold my hands together at my waist. He kept tracing down my body.
Fixing my feet. My hands. And my hair. Always brushing back my hair.
I can’t remember waking up without him being there. Without him touching or kissing me.”
Tears left me, falling over the bridge of my nose towards the bed.
“And then I woke up… to no one. To nothing. Did my mind invent it all? I feel so dirty. So guilty.”
“No.” Vaughn’s head shook, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips into mine. “You did nothing wrong.”
“I went. This will always be my fault.”
“And I let you go. I could say the same thing. I’ve held you against your will before. I could have done it again.”
My eyes rolled, but his hand slid to my cheek, holding secure.
“Do you see how pointless it is to blame ourselves? We both have an argument. Maybe we’re both at fault. Holding to the guilt will benefit neither of us. As impossible as it seems right now, we’re going to have to move passed this. It happened. We can’t change it.”
“Why did King Lawrence let me go, Vaughn? Why did he just brand me and leave? What does it mean? He hasn’t come after us. He didn’t kill or imprison me.”
“It is concerning he managed to just walk away,” he said, lowly.
“But technically, even if he did find us, he couldn’t come here.
The Collective High Council would kill him and he knows it.
He may be king, but even he has a handler.
Just like me. Just like every other powerful president or leader in the world.
The Council runs us, and we obey, whether we like it or not. Otherwise… death.”
“The Council,” I whispered. “Have they contacted you?”
Vaughn rolled over, grabbing his phone. He scrolled through, his face becoming more closed off by the second.
“Yeah. A lot.” He appeared to be reading something. After a long moment, his jaw flexed, and his head fell back to the pillow. He laid on his back, staring up. I moved in closer, and the concern had me flattening my hand on his bare chest to trace the P carved over his heart.
“What is it? What did they say?”
“Nothing good.”
Seconds passed before I pressed him.
“Explain. What does that mean?”
More silence.
“I guess it was always going to come down to this. Katia was right. It’s all a game to them. It doesn’t truly matter who wins or who dies. They’re untouchable. We’re not. Not really.”
I didn’t speak as he kept looking up.
“Mr. Prescott wants to set up a time to meet with me. I am to… enter society. Apparently, King Lawrence is throwing me a party. A costume ball, Halloween night.” Vaughn grew quiet.
“It’s a trap. Even Mr. Prescott hinted enough, but it’s mandatory I attend.
” He turned his attention to me. “Especially if I’m to be with you. ”
“Me?”
“You are the Duchess of Rosemoor, Penelope. The world now knows it. All The Council needed was this heightened drama for their game to become irresistible. The Sultan is in King Lawrence’s corner, and Mr. Prescott is supposedly in mine.”
“And what about me? Who is in my corner?” I sat up, narrowing my eyes, angrily. “None of our lives are games. Our child wasn’t a game. You could die if you did this. People want to kill you. If you enter into society, you’ll be more of a target than ever.”
“And if I don’t…”
He left the statement hanging between us, but we both already knew. My voice was barely audible as I let the words drift between us. “They could kill you anyway.”
My lids lowered as my mind raced. I looked up, jerking my gaze to Vaughn’s.
“The Magister is dead. We’ll marry. We’ll…”
It was pointless. I already knew that answer, too.
“The Magister’s death doesn’t change the laws of The Order, love.
” He took my hand, pulling me back down so that I laid partially on top of him.
“I could kill them all and you’d still have to undergo the trials.
The Collective High Council owns The Order.
It rules us. It is a contract that cannot be broken. It just is.”
I nodded, hating it.
“Then you will have to emerge back into society. We have no choice.” My eyes burned through the tears that threatened. “We’ll just have to make sure The Order protects you.”
His brow furrowed, and he pulled me down to kiss him.
“And they will. Don’t worry about me. I was raised in these games, Penelope.
That’s the thing about being king. Strategy is nothing without sacrifice.
Everything in-between is trivial. The goal is not surviving the ball.
It’s not even emerging back into society.
” He paused. “It’s claiming my rightful title.
” He nibbled on my finger, but all I felt was King Lawrence.
I tried to repress the odd tremble that took over, but Vaughn didn’t miss it. His lids narrowed, but he continued.
“Will the world be shocked I’m alive? Yes.
Will they find it controversial that King Lawrence is throwing a ball in my honor…
absolutely. But it’s a distraction. King Lawrence thinks he’s forcing me into a corner.
He’s going to try to embarrass me and make me bend the knee to prove a point.
” Vaughn’s mouth pulled back on the side.
“All he’s doing is letting the lion inside his den.
He’s going to come to regret that. Not all kings are kingly.
And not all predators attack at the first drop of blood.
Some of us like to play with our food.” His smile grew darker.
“Some of us don’t stop at a kill… we want a massacre. ”