A/N: Woops. After almost two and a half months I'm finally posting an update to the story nearest to my heart. :) Once again thank you Guest for lighting a fire! ;) I'm sorry about the extended delay. Things got crazy over the summer. I'm posting a double update today to make up for the 'double-waiting' I forced upon some of you :P so thanks for your patience. Chapter 11 immediately follows. Forgive if this reads strangely; I'm completely distracted by some of the other people in this room... *glances around annoyingly* lol
As always, please do this author the added honor of not only reading, but leaving a review. Thank you.
Chapter 10
Tucked away in a pub corner booth, his nervous bloodshot gaze shifted right then left, beads of sweat trickling alongside his temples. He should have been here an hour ago. He was beginning to wonder whether this was a set up.
"Another whiskey sour, Mate?"
Ernest flinched, his beady black eyes darting up to meet her amber ones. Having already asked twice, the buxom barmaid waited with an expectant gaze, her brow arched. He frowned.
"No! Just…just leave me alone!" he barked waving an impatient and dismissive hand at the girl. "I'm done anyway," he muttered missing the unintended double meaning.
Slightly offended she huffed, an eyebrow quirked in disdain as she whirled around heading for the kitchen, her fingers curled around the handles of two empty beer mugs.
He glanced around and reached into the pocket of his dirty trousers pulling out a few beat up copper coins. Knowing he was broke and having counted on duping the mystery guest into paying, he cast a surreptitious glance about the darkened pub; he'd downed five beers and six whiskeys in the last hour without a penny to his name. Having determined the coast was clear, he gingerly eased out of the booth hoping to slip away unnoticed.
"Where do you think you're going?" a confident derisive voice calmly asked from behind.
His eyes now wide with fear, Ernest froze without turning. "I…uhh…I j-just…"
A hand came down on his shoulder pushing him roughly back into his seat. "Sit down," the suddenly hostile voice commanded.
Ernest's bony derriere banged hard against the old worn out wooden bench causing him to wince in pain. Trembling now, he stared straight ahead waiting for the hammer to drop.
Caught stiffing the house on drinks. This time, he'd see the inside of a prison for sure.
Heavy footsteps circled him until a man came into his peripheral. Ernest's terrified eyes shifted up to meet the confident steady gaze of a man in his early to mid-twenties; handsome, immaculately dressed, hair perfectly coiffed. Bending slightly, he gracefully slid into the opposite side of the booth.
Staring into Ernest's confused black gaze, he placed his forearms on the table and interlaced his well-manicured fingers. "So," he stated cheerfully, "I understand you're here to blackmail me."
As recognition dawned Earnest panicked, his eyes darting about the room eyeing the inebriated and garrulous patrons. No one seeming to overhear the man's accusation he steeled himself, his gaze now locked on the insidious royal nobleman before him. "I want the money you owe us."
The man's brows shot up. "Money? What money?"
Now he was getting angry. "The damn money you promised to my dead wife for taking care of that little brat, that's what money!" he hissed. "I found the note!"
Unmoved, he quirked a brow. "So, you're the drunken deadbeat husband I'd heard so much about." He suddenly pouted. "I'm so terribly sorry to hear of Pearle's passing," he added, his voice smooth. Cocking his head to the side he asked, "How did the poor woman die?"
"Never mind that!" Ernest asserted, banging his hand against the table. "I want what's coming to me!"
"Indeed," the man cooed quirking an eyebrow, "You'll get what's coming to you," he added folding his arms and leaning back. He then coolly studied the older man.
After several moments of intimidating silence, he finally continued. "I promised your wife nothing but since you are so interested in employment, this is the way it works: you receive payment when a job is completed."
Ernest's jaw went slack. "Job?" he echoed incredulous. "We had that boy for nine years! Then Pearle up and left me takin' that little wanker with her," he stated bitterly. "She finally came back without the kid. Didn't know where she took him but we most certainly did do our fuckin' job! You need to –"
The man suddenly lurched forward, "They were supposed to die," he growled cutting him off.
A look of shock overtook Ernest's stubbly and bedraggled features. "Die? Pearle didn't mention nothin' about killin' nobody," he replied wistfully. "And what do you mean by 'they'?"
The man's eyes narrowed, "Twins were born to the King, you idiot!" he snapped. "Do you not read the papers?"
Glassy-eyed, Ernest shook his head.
He shrugged, a flicker of comprehension crossing his features. "Ahh. Perhaps you don't know how to read, plebian," he scoffed. "Either you're an idiot or your wife is a good liar, Ernest," he eyed the Prince's former foster father and straightened with a sigh, "…and I'm willing to believe the former." His eyes went cold. "I was double-crossed. I paid the delivering physician well for their elimination," he quirked a brow and leaned in, "Somehow, the King's son ended up with you."
Ernest swallowed hard.
The royal continued angrily, "I didn't know for ten years. Ten damn years!" he hissed as Ernest's frightened gaze locked on the other man's furious and twisted features. The handsome noble sat back again, his expression smug.
"After absconding with my money, Physician Cornelius disappeared to who knows where for three years. He eventually found his way back to Eternos. I was made aware of his status," he huffed. "Needless to say, he is dead. Believing he'd done what I paid him to do, I tied up loose ends."
Ernest's eyes went round as the man suddenly leaned forward. "And now here you sit demanding money or exposure," he chastised shaking his head, "You have no idea who you're dealing with, you filthy Drunk." The man abruptly stood, his eyes shifting to the empty glasses then back to the older man's worried gaze. "How were you going to pay for that?" he clipped, nodding at the table.
Despite the fear Ernest's gaze narrowed and hardened, his jaw clenched defiantly. "I have my ways," he sneered weakly.
The royal clicked his tongue in censure. "How careless of you to have a vice," he stated cryptically before reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a fine leather satchel, unzipped it, and retrieved three large gold coins clanking them heavily onto the table.
He leaned over, palming the table. "Do what you have to do. Kidnap him. Poison him. Lock him up somewhere. Hell, use him as your little sex toy before you exterminate him if you want I don't give a damn," he leaned in closer, "Just make sure he's dead when it's all over," he whispered harshly before straightening.
Ernest couldn't take his eyes off of the intimidating ruler as the man's eyes narrowed menacingly. He gestured to the coins.
"Consider that a deposit, vermin," he clipped, his eyes boring into the sitting man's distraught gaze. "Find and eliminate his twin and you will receive a bonus," he added with a snort before his eyes waxed cold and hard. "Perhaps then, I'll allow you to continue breathing."
The older man nodded slowly, his eyes wide with apprehension.
The man gestured to the money. "And use the change to take a bath," he sniffed critically.
Terrified, Ernest stared as the royal suddenly chuckled, his mood abruptly shifting. "Excellent. I hope we understand each other. Good day," he offered cheerily before slipping out the back.
Ernest brought a hand to his forehead before bringing it before his eyes: it was trembling.
- Three Days Later -
Gilded carriages adorned with smartly dressed footmen arrived at the Palace one after the other the evening of the Royal Ball. It was a beautiful late autumn evening; tonight being the night rulers of Eternia would meet and assess the shy and newly discovered Heir Apparent To The Throne lending their support and sharing in the happiness of the High King of Eternia and his Earthling Queen.
xxx
The energy in the Palace at an all-time high over tonight's impending festivities, Adam sat alone in his suite, the valets having performed their duties—frenzied as it was—and finally leaving him to his thoughts.
He recalled his parents' angry and alarmed reactions to the notion of his foster's stalking last week. Even though Mrs. Stoley pressed him to tell the King, Queen, and Man-At-Arms immediately, Adam somehow couldn't bring himself to form the words until yesterday. He thought that terrifying chapter of his life was permanently closed. Apparently not.
He sighed as he stared at his hands. They were shaking.
Adam wondered whether he would ever be able to overcome the memory of the beatings, the power plays, the rapes, the frustrating feeling of helplessness. Over the last two months he erroneously thought he was improving yet lately, every time he closed his eyes for sleep insomnia would rule his nights leaving him vulnerable to flashbacks, nausea…panic attacks.
It wasn't uncommon for him to go to bed only to awaken much later on the floor shaking and in a fetal position. Perhaps seeing his foster did more damage to his psyche than he had imagined?
A knock at the door startled him from his musings.
"Adam? Are you there?" the voice inquired. "It's time ta go!"
He took a deep breath, stood, and approached the foyer. Reaching the door he turned the knob and swung it open. He froze as he took in the sight before him.
Teela normally clad in khakis, wild hair and an attitude to match stood at the doorway wearing a charming chiffon Empire line forest green hoop gown. Her fiery tresses were tamed in a swept up do and her hands were fitted with ivory satin elbow length ball gloves. She cocked her head as she considered him, the graceful dangly earrings dancing about with her movements.
"Wow you look nice," she marveled.
The Prince silently shrugged his shoulders as her emerald gaze roamed him. He wore an exquisite crimson jacquard Nehru suit jacket with embroidered gold cuffs, the gold Prince's Coat of Arms sewn over his heart, and a blue satin sash stretching from his left shoulder to his right hip signifying the Heir Apparent. His freshly pressed black slacks were lined with glossy silk trim on the sides of his pant legs and his black boots were shined to perfection. His blonde locks, normally wild were cut short on the sides and back yet the longer layers on top remained defiantly unruly.
Teela's wide gaze suddenly went to his hand. "Let me see," she asked eagerly, grabbing his right hand roughly.
Adam blinked as she examined the Crown Prince's Signet on his third finger. She whistled and met his gaze. "Wow. I guess this means you're officially available for betrothal, huh?"
He flinched. "Marriage? Uh-uh no way. I'm only ten," he replied incredulous, his voice cracking.
Teela wrinkled her brow in confusion. "What do you mean no way? By eighteen years you're supposed to have already found a royal's daughter, married her, and had a bunch of kids. That's the way all princes do things," she reasoned.
"Not this prince."
She narrowed her eyes. "Don'tchya like anyone you've met so far?"
He shook his head.
Her eyes widened. "No one?"
This time, curiously Adam just stared silently.
Teela blew out a breath. "You need ta get out more."
xxx
The Palace Ballroom was spectacular; ten thousand square feet of amber marbled floors, cream colored walls with ivory crown molding, enormous crystal chandeliers, and elaborate golden and burgundy window dressings of linens and silk.
On the east side of the hall, an entire side of glassed-in walls boasted beautiful vistas of the Palace Gardens, the stone fountains its focal point.
Inside, banquet tables draped with ivory linens, adorned with decadent centerpieces, and dressed with beautiful crystal and golden goblets filled the periphery leaving the center of the room available for waltz.
Together with the chandeliers, thousands of lit candles cast a warm glow bathing everyone in attendance in hues of gold and amber giddiness, all excited and eager to settle their gazes upon the much talked about long lost and newly discovered Heir.
Smooth melodious notes of stringed instruments hung in the air as guests chatted with one another occasionally interrupted by the announcements of arriving royalty; Kings, Queens, Princes and Princesses of distant lands all heralded in succession.
"The King's Man-At-Arms, the noble Farrell Duncan and his lovely daughter, Miss Teela Duncan!"
Heads turned and greeted the two with smiles as Duncan, in full dress uniform and holding his young daughter's hand made his way down the elaborate steps.
"The Commander of the Eternian Armed Forces, Commander Lucius Marcus and his beloved wife, Mrs. Novena Marcus!"
Marcus also dressed in uniform nodded making his way down the long steps, his wife's hand in his. The two soldiers along with their companions happily mingled with the royal masses and the Officers of the Eternian Forces at the bottom of the stairwell.
Suddenly, the herald banged the bottom of his staff causing the music and all chatter to cease.
"Their Royal Majesties, the High Ruler of the Realms, King Randor and his wife Queen Marlena Miro of Eternia! And presenting for the first time his Royal Highness, the Heir To The High Throne, the Crown Prince of Eternia, Prince Adam Evindor Stephen Miro!"
To that the room gasped and erupted in applause as the double doors swung open to reveal the ruling family of Eternia.
Wearing smiles, the King and Queen made their way down the stairs with their young son between them, each holding his hand.
Randor was dressed in black slacks trimmed with satin and a crimson military jacket adorned with golden epaulettes, various rank medals, and the gold satin sash of the Order of Greyskull indicating the eminence of the sitting ruling monarch. Marlena was resplendent in a snowy white ball gown wearing a diamond tiara, the ranking medals of the Queen pinned to the neckline of her gown. She finished it with elbow length silk ball gloves.
Spirited chatter filled the room as everyone studied them, ogling at the new family who were all smiles…well, all except little Adam whose serious and level expression belied his young years.
As the Royal Guard stood at attention along the walls of the chamber, the symphony resumed as the guests eagerly swarmed the three royals at the bottom of the steps.
Mrs. Stoley dressed in an elegant chocolate satin gown and pearls watched with proud tears as Adam negotiated the social setting quite well, considering. Her children ran to him to which his expression immediately changed to one of relief, the orphans animatedly interacting with him and reacting to the rich and elegant surroundings.
Upon seeing the children the King and Queen politely broke away from the adults turning their attentions to them, their faces lit with joy. Immediately, their eyes searched and finding her, they gestured for her. Marveling at the uncanny resemblance her little Adam carried from his royal and stately parents, Mrs. Stoley approached and curtseyed.
"I cannot thank you enough for your generous invitation to the Ball this evening, your Majesties," the older woman stated upon straightening doing her best to speak over the music, the chatty guests, and the jubilant voices of her children.
The young and beautiful Queen turned to her and, with tears in her eyes gave the kindly woman a warm embrace effectively startling her.
"No. It's I who can't thank you enough for what you've done for our son," she pulled back and stared into her eyes, her hands on her shoulders. "For years my heart was broken," she continued glancing at her little boy currently swarmed by children. She smiled and turned back to Abigail. "Now it is beginning to heal. Once we find our daughter, it'll be made whole again. We'll be...a complete family," she confessed swiping at her tears.
To that, Abigail burst into tears as the two women embraced once again.
As introductions were made to the King and the children's attention temporarily drawn to his father, Adam's searching gaze finally found the flirty brown haired girl from the orphanage standing timidly in a corner of the Ballroom, her hand in her newly adopted father's, her gaze holding his. He slipped away and approached.
Her parents enjoying spirited conversation with other guests, they caught the Prince in their peripheral and stopped mid-sentence as all bowed and curtseyed. "My Prince," they greeted along with the others.
Adam gave a cautious smile and awkwardly inclined his head. "Hello. Can…may I please talk to Cylvia?"
With a smile they nodded their assent as the two children broke away from everyone and found a spot to talk.
In an empty corner, Prince Keldor, his handsome yet contentious gaze pinned on the child sulked, his arms folded angrily across his chest.