When I woke up, I had no idea how long I had been out.
I think I was in the south tower. It stood above the dungeons the prisoners were kept in, looking over the various fields just outside the castle walls. It was dark outside, the stars twinkling innocently through the slim window. There was one torch lit in the room, its soft light bright enough to just see. I was still in my riding clothes from earlier, but my hair had fallen from its braid. I wanted to tuck it behind my ear, but my hands were in shackles connected to the floor. There was a wooden and iron door to my right, a tiny window situated in the top of it. I shifted in the chair in an attempt to get comfortable. The chains raked against the floor, echoing loudly in the empty space. A shadow moved outside the bars, a quick flash of silver.
"Hello?"
Whoever it was didn't respond. I heaved a sigh, wondering what in the world was going on. Was this the King's doing? Had the rebels infiltrated the castle? Was this part of a power play from another family? I had no idea.
It could have been minutes or hours later that the door to my cell finally creaked open. I recognized the dark hair and brooding stare of the captain of the guard.
"What am I doing here?" I questioned in my most authoritative voice. The Captain didn't answer. He simply eyed me haughtily before offering me a skein of water. I glared at him, refusing to open my mouth.
"It might be awhile before you get this chance again," he warned me.
"I'm not drinking a drop until you tell me why I'm chained to the floor."
He raised his eyebrows, a disbelieving look on his face. "It's a very good act, Lady Singer, but we both know why you are here."
"And why exactly is that? You seem to be much more informed than I."
"Treason," he responded simply.
"Treason!? Excuse me? On whose information?"
"That's not for you to know, Madam. You will have your chance at trial, but it's likely the best outcome will be that you'll be stripped of your title. What will you do to earn your keep, pretty one?" His fingers brushed the edge of my dress at my shoulder, and I snatched myself away from him. He chuckled darkly before leaving the room, taking the water with him.
I looked down at the floor in disbelief. I was being framed, of course, but the question was who. Had the Amber's considered me a threat? Did the richer nobles want to have the crown to themselves?
The door creaked open again, and the last person I expected to walk in was closing the door behind him.
"I thought you might be more comfortable in here, Lady Singer. Aren't these closer to the accommodations you are use to back in Carolina?"
The King glided into the room, a huge smirk on his face. He came to stand in front of me, his stance exuding dominance. He cocked his head, clearly waiting for an answer. I had to bite my tongue to keep the hateful retort back. Whether I liked it or not, this was my King, and one wrong word would make me lose my head.
"No, your majesty. We might not have the wealth you have, but we managed to get by."
"That's what you Singers do, isn't it? You always managed to get by. I find that so interesting," he murmured.
It was quiet for a minute as he assessed me. His stare only made me uncomfortable in the fact that he seemed to look at me like I was nothing, like I wasn't any better than the sand and stone beneath his feet. He smiled, an alarmingly charming one that set me on edge.
"You know, I always found it suspicious that Maxon didn't fight harder for you. The way he looked at you," he scoffed, "I would have thought he would have given me a lot more trouble. I thought that surely I was missing something. But my network of spies and informants came up empty handed. I urged them to try harder, and still, I had no proof."
He raised his shoulders, his smirk only growing. "I thought maybe my boy had finally learned who was in charge, that he knew better to test me. Maybe he'd finally learned to play the game, and he realized I was the King." He walked towards me, pausing at my side to stare out the window. "Then, the Duke came to see me. His daughter, of all people, saw you leaving a room when you were sick. She didn't think anything of it, of course. She went back to her alcove to read, but then, she heard the door open again. And who should pop out but my son?"
Dread filled me. It felt like all my blood vanished down to my feet, disappearing through the floor. I fought to keep my face straight.
"I really think she does care for Maxon. She didn't tell me, only her father. She was worried that maybe he didn't care for her as much as it seemed he did, that maybe he would be unfaithful in their marriage. Her father suspected different. He came to tell me immediately. Some members of my court know where their loyalties lie."
"That doesn't prove anything," I quavered. The King placed his hands on the arms of my chair, his face leering in to mine.
"No, it doesn't," he agreed. "But it did get me to consider the possibility…The rebels attack your father, which he miraculously survives, and the first thing they ask for is a different marriage alliance. And who is at the top of their list but you?"
I glared back at the King. We both knew who really tried to kill my father, and he was staring me right in the face. He was turning the situation to his own favor.
"What am I doing here?" I asked in the steadiest voice I could manage.
"I think you are a traitor. I think you and your father want to seem all good and innocent in front of the common folk, but truly, you lust for power just as much as I do. You want my crown, Lady Singer." He had gotten so close that his lips were right by my ear, sending chills all over my body.
"I've never wanted your crown," I swore. "All I ever wanted was your son, and you put an end to that."
The king backed away, the smile staying in place. He walked back behind me and yanked the chair out from underneath me. I fell to the floor, my knees and hands taking the brunt of the impact. The jolt shook my very bones. Before I could move, the King grabbed at my hair, yanking my head back to him.
"I get why he likes you. You have a lot of fire in you," he admitted. That's when I spotted the whip in his hands. My insides turned cold, and the memory of Maxon's scars burned my eyes. "You will admit to your crimes, America. One way or another."
Time had never seemed longer than it had in that tower. I lost track of how many times he hit me with the whip. My dress was in tatters, the floor sprayed red with my blood. I was curled up on the floor, but I was proud of myself. No matter how hard he questioned me about Maxon, about our relationship…no matter how much he taunted me and tried to make me confess to crimes I didn't commit…I didn't give in. I would not put Maxon or my family in danger. If death was the price I had to pay for that, then it was well worth it.
The King had left a while before, just as the sun was starting to rise. The morning air was cold against my abused skin, and I fought shivering. It was too painful. I closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing. It seemed to stem the pain a little.
The door opened, but I didn't pick my head up. If it was the King or one of his men, I'd rather not see it coming.
"America?"
Gentle hands cradled me, lifting my head to face him. Maxon looked down at me, his face stricken. He quickly pulled off his coat, wrapping it around my shoulders before pulling me into his arms. He held me close, careful not to cause me any pain.
"How did you find me?" I managed to get out.
"Carter didn't see you at dinner, and it was obvious you hadn't returned to your room. America, darling," he murmured softly before placing a soft kiss in my hair. "I'm so very sorry."
"Maxon, did you…oh my god." The Queen paused just inside the door, her hand over her mouth. She looked at me like I wasn't quite real, like she was seeing a ghost.
"Mother, will you grab the keys from the guard station?" Maxon brushed back my hair, keeping a close hold on me.
"I can't believe this," she quavered from the doorway. "You father-"
"Is not always the man he is with you," Maxon spat. "You've seen what he will do when threatened. He's ruthless and…he's done this to me. What do you think would stop him from doing this to anyone else?"
Queen Amberly stared at her son, tears in her eyes. For some reason, I knew right then that she was probably the only person that Clarkson was truly kind to, that she had no idea of the ruthless behavior he was capable of.
"I'll go get the keys," she whispered.
"No need. I have them right here."
The King stood behind his wife in the doorway, looking upon the scene with careful calm. Amberly turned to him, her hands balled into fists at her side.
"What is the meaning of this, Clarkson?"
"She's with the rebels, Amberly. She's been working with them."
"That's absurd," Maxon refuted. "You have no proof!"
"Even with proof, that doesn't excuse this sort of treatment. She's a child, Clarkson."
"Children are just as capable of starting wars as adults, Amberly," he growled. "She's wormed her way into our son's heart, made him think that he loves the wretch, and all they want is the power. They will destroy our country."
Amberly shook her head. "Does everything have to be about power? Sometimes, change can be for the better. I understand the need to protect our family, to protect the monarchy. Your fierceness and confidence is a reason I fell in love with you, but this? This is crossing the line, Clarkson."
"Amberly-"
The Queen held up her hand, her bottom lip quivering. "Let the girl go. Let the physicians tend to her wounds." The King reluctantly handed the keys to Maxon, who unlocked the chains from me. "Maxon, take her to the infirmary. Clarkson?" The King turned towards her, his expression blank. "I thought you were a better man than this. I wonder what else I have missed all these years."
Amberly turned around and walked out, taking the air with her. Maxon helped me up, his arms supporting most of my weight even though I was standing.
"Are you okay to stand for a moment?" Maxon squeezed my arms. I nodded my head. He walked over to the other side of the room, where there was a bucket of water. He dipped a rag into it and squeezed it out.
"This is your entire fault," Clarkson spat as he pointed a finger at me. "You are just some common whore who wants my crown, tampered with my marriage, and turned my son against me!"
I slunk against the wall, edging towards the doorway. There was fire in Clarkson's eyes, the rage even more evident now.
"You don't get to blame her for your mistakes," Maxon retorted. "You don't get to blame her for mother now knowing your not so pleasant side."
"You mother is naïve," he huffed. "She needed to be protected, sheltered. I'm protecting you, too, son. I do what is necessary to save our family, our crown, our country."
"And better your standing," Maxon snapped. "Don't pretend that you had my best interests at heart because we both know that's a lie."
"I will not let a rebel sit on my throne."
The King pulled put a dagger from his waist, and he lunged after me. I shrank towards the floor, completely helpless. My legs wouldn't move fast enough to get away. The anger in Clarkson's eyes seemed to glow, radiating their feral need to eliminate the threat. Maxon would watch me die, and….I couldn't let that happen. I scrambled for the door, my instinct and adrenaline finally kicking in. Before I made it, Maxon tackled him to the ground.
They fell out the doorway into the hall. I crawled on my knees, watching in horror as they fought. The silver of the knife flashed in the air between them. The King broke apart from Maxon, looking triumphantly down at his son.
"I'm done with your insubordination, boy. And you," he said as he turned towards me. He took a step towards me, and Maxon launched himself at his father with a feral yell. They scuffled for a moment, right at the edge of the stairs. Maxon pushed him away, and the King reeled backwards. He tripped over the stone. Maxon reached for him, trying to keep him from falling down the stairs, but the King fell.
Maxon watched in horror, breathing heavily. He turned towards me, his eye already swollen from where his father had hit him. He walked over to me, helping me stand.
"Are you okay?" he whispered. My finger brushed his eye. It was already starting to bruise, the red changing to dark purples and blues. I nodded my head. "He'll be back. That wasn't a long flight of stairs."
"Why did you do that?" I whispered. The King was a terrible person, but he was still Maxon's father.
"Because I made you a promise, America. You are my wife, and I protect the ones I love," he murmured before placing a soft kiss on my cheek. He wrapped me in his arms. We held each other for a second, savoring the moment.
"MAXON!"
We both turned at the scream, his mother's scream. Maxon took my hand, helping me down the stairs the best that he could. We paused at the bottom step. I looked down on the scene, my insides turning cold.
Queen Amberly stood over her husband, her face pale and tears in her eyes. King Clarkson was sprawled on the floor, his head right next to the stone wall with a puddle of blood underneath it. I looked quickly at Maxon, who had gone pale as a sheet.
"Is he?" Maxon gulped, looking at his mother. She didn't respond, but that was all the answer we needed.
The King was dead.
A/N: Semi-cliffhanger? hehe.
I'm sorry this took so long for me to post. There's just a lot going on, and I had to go out of town this past weekend. But this weekend I will be home, and I hope to focus on wrapping this up!
I hope you enjoyed! Thank you for not giving up on me and for all the reviews last chapter. They truly make my day! Please leave a review letting me know what you think! :)