April 2002
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine, the story is.
Chapter 8
Charles was pacing. Martin was deep in conversation with one of the help
he'd hired for the next few days, charming her and flattering her. Charles shook
his head. The man was set on conquering the female half of the species. For once,
he was glad he wasn't married. Charles didn't deserve a sweet young woman like his
charge. She was simply beyond him in every way; above him.
The old guardian twisted his hands together as the young stud stole a kiss
from the pretty young maid. The king was due to arrive any moment now, and Selenity
would have to face them both at once. If she was well enough to come down this
evening. He frowned. After her nightmare earlier than night he was worried. She
never slept well these days. Not in the last few months. The sound of a car,
followed by loud shouting outside, brought his attention back to the present.
Martin had the maid in a corner, his hands teasing her curves, her laughter echoing
across the room.
"Martin, sir,"
The man looked up, his eyes flashing with annoyance, his lips pressed in a
firm line. "What do you want, old man?"
"The king has arrived."
Martin pushed away from the maid and walked forward, standing off to the side
as Charles opened the door to admit the king. The sun had gone down more than an
hour ago but the swarm of reporters outside the gates hadn't diminished in the
slightest.
A man entered the house. A large black hat was pulled down low over his
features, a brown all weather coat hiding him from view. Behind him were several
people carrying pieces of luggage. Charles bowed low, "Your majesty," before
stepping forward to take the coat.
The king removed his hat and coat, passing them along to the servant before
running his hands through dark brown hair. His features were stern, square, the
angles lending him a dangerous air. His hair was conservatively cut, brushing the
back of a black tuxedo jacket. His piercing green eyes took in everything,
traveling over the immaculate entry way and stopping on Martin. He nodded to the
younger man, the deep lines around his eyes and mouth relaxing slightly.
Charles took his shoes before disappearing. The servants behind him stepped
inside, closing the door behind them, before scurrying upstairs with the baggage.
The King had his own set of rooms, they never changed, so they knew where everything
was to go.
"Martin." The King's voice was deep, rumbling through his chest with
carefully enunciated words that echoed, ever so slightly, in the large entryway, "I
am glad to see you here. Is my daughter well?"
Martin nodded to the King, "Your Majesty. It is good to see you again,
Francis. Your daughter's servant, that little gnome of a fellow, will not let me see
her."
Francis turned to look at Charles, who'd re-entered with a tray of drinks.
"Is this true, Charles?"
Charles blanched but nodded, "Yes, sire. Your daughter has made her wishes
clear."
The king's eyebrows rose in surprise. "My daughter's wishes? So this is her
game, is it? Good man, just following his orders, though I cannot imagine why she
would not want to see her betrothed."
Martin just shrugged and took a glass as the three of them entered the main
sitting room. The king sat in a high-backed chair that resembled a throne as Martin
sat nearby on the couch. "I wanted to talk to you, Francis, in private, before I do
see your daughter again."
Francis waved Charles away. Bowing, Charles left, closing the door behind
him.
"Go ahead, Martin."
"Well, sire, it has to do with your daughter."
"I gathered that much, man. Out with it."
"If it necessary to observe the 5 year ritual mourning period for her mother
before she gets married?"
"5 year...? Wherever did you hear that..." Francis frowned, "Never mind.
There is no such thing as a 5 year mourning period."
Martin's face flushed, his hand clenching in his lap. She'd lied to him!
Him! Her future husband, lord and master! He'd teach her to respect him, oh yes,
she needed a lesson in respecting him. He couldn't wait to give it. "Then would it
be possible to set the date for our wedding?"
Francis smiled, "Of course! I was wondering when you would get around to
asking. When would you like it?"
"This Wednesday sounds good."
The king raised an eyebrow, "A little soon, do you not think?"
"Why wait, your majesty?"
"Why wait for what?"
Both men turned to look at the door where Selenity stood, Darien at her side
supporting her. She was pale, shaky, but her eyes flashed with anger. "Are you
deciding my future without me again?"
The king stood, his eyes on the man who supported his daughter. "Who is
this?"
"I'm Darien."
"Watch your tongue, worm," Martin snapped, "you have no right to address the
king!"
Darien's eyes narrowed, "You have no right to be addressing me. I presume
you are Martin?"
Martin was taken aback. Servants didn't snap back at royalty, it just was
not done! "Duke of Elridge, Martin Merlion Debouche. You will address me properly
or I will have you flogged."
Darien glanced at Selenity. She was staring straight at her father, her jaw
clenched, her knuckles white on his arm. He could feel her shaking like a leaf.
She was terrified and trying not to show it. "You can call me Darien, Martin," he
replied casually, "and if you try to have me flogged I'll turn you in for assault.
Your highness, your daughter would like to speak with you."
Martin stepped forward, his fists clenched, ready to wipe the smile off
Darien's face. The King put a hand out in front of him. "Come child, what is it
you want to say?"
Selenity took a deep breath. She hadn't even looked at Martin yet, though
she knew he was staring at her. She could feel his gaze undressing her. She felt
dirty, like she'd been violated all over again. "You told me I have a few months to
find myself someone to marry."
"What?!" Martin turned incredulous eyes on the King, "She's mine! We have an
agreement!"
The King glared at him and he subsided as Selenity continued, "I am not
Martin's. I never wanted to be his, and I certainly will not subject myself to a
life of terror and abuse because he took from me what was mine to give."
Martin's face suffused with blood. How dare she? How dare she think she
didn't belong to him. She was his, he'd left his mark on her, made her his. He had
simply been claiming what was his rightful property! Was this man with her the one
who had turned his biddable and subservient Princess into this outspoken young
women?
"Daddy, this is Darien. He proposed to me two days ago, and I said yes."
The kind laughed. Martin glared at them, his eyes telling her, as she met
his gaze, that he would not allow it. She would pay for even thinking of another
but him.
Selenity cringed back against Darien. He tightened his grip around her
shoulders, giving her silent support. The King chuckled, "That is very amusing
dear. Thank you. Now that you have that out of the way, Martin and I were just
planning your wedding."
Selenity bit her lip. He didn't believe her! "Daddy, I am serious."
"Of course you are, child."
"I'm not joking!" she yelled at him, drawing his attention back to her. Her
face was a mask of anger, her eyes spitting fire and death, "I am not a child
anymore I can make my own choices and I will not be chained to this poor excuse for
a man because you made a promise to his parents when I was a baby! No! I will do
what I must, if that means giving up the throne to be with Darien I will!"
The king blinked. Darien stood firm as he was inspected, like a bug under a
microscope, from head to toe. "Selenity, dear, you know I only want what is best
for you. This young man is fine looking, I admit, but just because he catches your
fancy..."
"You don't want what's best for me," she shot back, her voice dropping, "you
never did. Not even mom could convince you I need stability growing up. You always
cared about what was best for you. I have feelings, daddy, and you have never once
considered them!"
"I let your mother raise you, as I agreed, until you were ten, Selenity. It
was for your own good."
"You ripped her away from me! How could you do that to me, your own
daughter? I loved her so much, she was the one constant in a life full of changes
and you took her away because you thought it would send the wrong image!" her eyes
filled with tears as she spoke. Her voice cracked as she continued, "How many times
in the last 18 years have you listened to what I want, daddy? How many times have
you actually listened to my suggestions? Once. In letting me come back here."
"I should have locked you away on the island like I planned,"
"Like you did with my mother? So I could what, die of pneumonia like she
did? She suffered for years, daddy, and you didn't care! You never did, all you
wanted was a son, but instead you got me."
The king took a step towards them, his fist clenched. She saw him visibly
take a deep breath and cool his temper down. "I wanted a son to carry on, yes.
Instead I got a lovely daughter who wanted to learn everything about daddy's job. I
got a wife who was good for only delivering girls and dead babies. I married your
mother because it was my job, you are going to marry Martin because it is yours.
You have no choice in the matter. Tomorrow, we will be leaving Tokyo."
"No."
"You do not have a choice in the matter."
"But I do," Darien spoke up, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I love your
daughter, your majesty, and I intend to marry her. With, or without, your consent.
Martin has done nothing but harm her and scare her, I won't let it continue."
The king's laugh was scornful, "You sir, do not belong in my house. Get out
or I will have you arrested for trespassing."
"It's my house." Selenity shot back, "Mine. It's in my name. I invited
Darien here and he will stay as long as I want him to. Do you think I am asking
your permission, daddy? Do you honestly think I'm going to ask you for anything
now? I do not want to be a part of a family without love. I grew up in one after
you took my mother away from me. I refuse to die in one. I refuse to let Martin
touch me again, I find him revolting."
Martin let out an inarticulate roar of fury and leapt at her, his arms
outstretched. Darien spun her away from him, sending her towards the couch, and met
the man head on. The two could be brothers, they were so similar in coloring.
Where Darien was lean, Martin was large. Martin and Darien came together in a
flurry of fists. Darien was hooked across the face and retaliated with an uppercut
that sent the other man's jaw snapping together. They rolled around on the floor,
punching each other, jabbing, kicking, biting.
They rolled into a large table, knocking it over and sending a vase of
flowers crashing to the floor, showing them in water as Martin's nose splattered
across his face, Darien's lip splitting and leaking blood. They rolled to their
feet and circled each other. Martin lunged and Darien blocked. He countered with a
nasty jab at the neck join in Martin's neck. Martin screamed as he hit a pressure
point and spun away. "Son of a bitch!"
"That's just the beginning, Martin. I owe you a lot more for what you've
done to Selenity!"
Darien followed, his guard up. He blocked three straight punches before
kicking out, taking the other man off his feet. Martin countered, grabbing his legs
and pulling him down. They continued to punch each other, when Darien finally
slammed his hand into Martin's temple. Two blows later the larger man was laid out,
unconscious, in the middle of the room.
Darien pushed himself to his feet and wiped his hand across his lips. His
knuckles were split, oozing blood, his lip was cut, he could taste blood in his
mouth and his head ached. He didn't heal nearly as fast as Selenity did and the
fight had reopened his head wound. He threw back his shoulders, looking straight at
the king, his gaze steady. "I will marry your daughter, your highness. It is not a
request, but a statement of fact."
Selenity held her hand out to him and he walked swiftly to her, supporting
her in his arms while she looked at her father, "I will speak with you when you are
ready to listen to me, daddy. You know where to find me."
They turned and left the room. Francis settled back into his chair,
collecting his glass and swirling the dark liquid around in it. His daughter had
given him lots to think about.
Author's Note: Phew, wow, that took a lot out of me to write! Lemme know what you
think! Anything!
Jademax@hotmail.com
Thanks for reading!
Jade_Max
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine, the story is.
Chapter 8
Charles was pacing. Martin was deep in conversation with one of the help
he'd hired for the next few days, charming her and flattering her. Charles shook
his head. The man was set on conquering the female half of the species. For once,
he was glad he wasn't married. Charles didn't deserve a sweet young woman like his
charge. She was simply beyond him in every way; above him.
The old guardian twisted his hands together as the young stud stole a kiss
from the pretty young maid. The king was due to arrive any moment now, and Selenity
would have to face them both at once. If she was well enough to come down this
evening. He frowned. After her nightmare earlier than night he was worried. She
never slept well these days. Not in the last few months. The sound of a car,
followed by loud shouting outside, brought his attention back to the present.
Martin had the maid in a corner, his hands teasing her curves, her laughter echoing
across the room.
"Martin, sir,"
The man looked up, his eyes flashing with annoyance, his lips pressed in a
firm line. "What do you want, old man?"
"The king has arrived."
Martin pushed away from the maid and walked forward, standing off to the side
as Charles opened the door to admit the king. The sun had gone down more than an
hour ago but the swarm of reporters outside the gates hadn't diminished in the
slightest.
A man entered the house. A large black hat was pulled down low over his
features, a brown all weather coat hiding him from view. Behind him were several
people carrying pieces of luggage. Charles bowed low, "Your majesty," before
stepping forward to take the coat.
The king removed his hat and coat, passing them along to the servant before
running his hands through dark brown hair. His features were stern, square, the
angles lending him a dangerous air. His hair was conservatively cut, brushing the
back of a black tuxedo jacket. His piercing green eyes took in everything,
traveling over the immaculate entry way and stopping on Martin. He nodded to the
younger man, the deep lines around his eyes and mouth relaxing slightly.
Charles took his shoes before disappearing. The servants behind him stepped
inside, closing the door behind them, before scurrying upstairs with the baggage.
The King had his own set of rooms, they never changed, so they knew where everything
was to go.
"Martin." The King's voice was deep, rumbling through his chest with
carefully enunciated words that echoed, ever so slightly, in the large entryway, "I
am glad to see you here. Is my daughter well?"
Martin nodded to the King, "Your Majesty. It is good to see you again,
Francis. Your daughter's servant, that little gnome of a fellow, will not let me see
her."
Francis turned to look at Charles, who'd re-entered with a tray of drinks.
"Is this true, Charles?"
Charles blanched but nodded, "Yes, sire. Your daughter has made her wishes
clear."
The king's eyebrows rose in surprise. "My daughter's wishes? So this is her
game, is it? Good man, just following his orders, though I cannot imagine why she
would not want to see her betrothed."
Martin just shrugged and took a glass as the three of them entered the main
sitting room. The king sat in a high-backed chair that resembled a throne as Martin
sat nearby on the couch. "I wanted to talk to you, Francis, in private, before I do
see your daughter again."
Francis waved Charles away. Bowing, Charles left, closing the door behind
him.
"Go ahead, Martin."
"Well, sire, it has to do with your daughter."
"I gathered that much, man. Out with it."
"If it necessary to observe the 5 year ritual mourning period for her mother
before she gets married?"
"5 year...? Wherever did you hear that..." Francis frowned, "Never mind.
There is no such thing as a 5 year mourning period."
Martin's face flushed, his hand clenching in his lap. She'd lied to him!
Him! Her future husband, lord and master! He'd teach her to respect him, oh yes,
she needed a lesson in respecting him. He couldn't wait to give it. "Then would it
be possible to set the date for our wedding?"
Francis smiled, "Of course! I was wondering when you would get around to
asking. When would you like it?"
"This Wednesday sounds good."
The king raised an eyebrow, "A little soon, do you not think?"
"Why wait, your majesty?"
"Why wait for what?"
Both men turned to look at the door where Selenity stood, Darien at her side
supporting her. She was pale, shaky, but her eyes flashed with anger. "Are you
deciding my future without me again?"
The king stood, his eyes on the man who supported his daughter. "Who is
this?"
"I'm Darien."
"Watch your tongue, worm," Martin snapped, "you have no right to address the
king!"
Darien's eyes narrowed, "You have no right to be addressing me. I presume
you are Martin?"
Martin was taken aback. Servants didn't snap back at royalty, it just was
not done! "Duke of Elridge, Martin Merlion Debouche. You will address me properly
or I will have you flogged."
Darien glanced at Selenity. She was staring straight at her father, her jaw
clenched, her knuckles white on his arm. He could feel her shaking like a leaf.
She was terrified and trying not to show it. "You can call me Darien, Martin," he
replied casually, "and if you try to have me flogged I'll turn you in for assault.
Your highness, your daughter would like to speak with you."
Martin stepped forward, his fists clenched, ready to wipe the smile off
Darien's face. The King put a hand out in front of him. "Come child, what is it
you want to say?"
Selenity took a deep breath. She hadn't even looked at Martin yet, though
she knew he was staring at her. She could feel his gaze undressing her. She felt
dirty, like she'd been violated all over again. "You told me I have a few months to
find myself someone to marry."
"What?!" Martin turned incredulous eyes on the King, "She's mine! We have an
agreement!"
The King glared at him and he subsided as Selenity continued, "I am not
Martin's. I never wanted to be his, and I certainly will not subject myself to a
life of terror and abuse because he took from me what was mine to give."
Martin's face suffused with blood. How dare she? How dare she think she
didn't belong to him. She was his, he'd left his mark on her, made her his. He had
simply been claiming what was his rightful property! Was this man with her the one
who had turned his biddable and subservient Princess into this outspoken young
women?
"Daddy, this is Darien. He proposed to me two days ago, and I said yes."
The kind laughed. Martin glared at them, his eyes telling her, as she met
his gaze, that he would not allow it. She would pay for even thinking of another
but him.
Selenity cringed back against Darien. He tightened his grip around her
shoulders, giving her silent support. The King chuckled, "That is very amusing
dear. Thank you. Now that you have that out of the way, Martin and I were just
planning your wedding."
Selenity bit her lip. He didn't believe her! "Daddy, I am serious."
"Of course you are, child."
"I'm not joking!" she yelled at him, drawing his attention back to her. Her
face was a mask of anger, her eyes spitting fire and death, "I am not a child
anymore I can make my own choices and I will not be chained to this poor excuse for
a man because you made a promise to his parents when I was a baby! No! I will do
what I must, if that means giving up the throne to be with Darien I will!"
The king blinked. Darien stood firm as he was inspected, like a bug under a
microscope, from head to toe. "Selenity, dear, you know I only want what is best
for you. This young man is fine looking, I admit, but just because he catches your
fancy..."
"You don't want what's best for me," she shot back, her voice dropping, "you
never did. Not even mom could convince you I need stability growing up. You always
cared about what was best for you. I have feelings, daddy, and you have never once
considered them!"
"I let your mother raise you, as I agreed, until you were ten, Selenity. It
was for your own good."
"You ripped her away from me! How could you do that to me, your own
daughter? I loved her so much, she was the one constant in a life full of changes
and you took her away because you thought it would send the wrong image!" her eyes
filled with tears as she spoke. Her voice cracked as she continued, "How many times
in the last 18 years have you listened to what I want, daddy? How many times have
you actually listened to my suggestions? Once. In letting me come back here."
"I should have locked you away on the island like I planned,"
"Like you did with my mother? So I could what, die of pneumonia like she
did? She suffered for years, daddy, and you didn't care! You never did, all you
wanted was a son, but instead you got me."
The king took a step towards them, his fist clenched. She saw him visibly
take a deep breath and cool his temper down. "I wanted a son to carry on, yes.
Instead I got a lovely daughter who wanted to learn everything about daddy's job. I
got a wife who was good for only delivering girls and dead babies. I married your
mother because it was my job, you are going to marry Martin because it is yours.
You have no choice in the matter. Tomorrow, we will be leaving Tokyo."
"No."
"You do not have a choice in the matter."
"But I do," Darien spoke up, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I love your
daughter, your majesty, and I intend to marry her. With, or without, your consent.
Martin has done nothing but harm her and scare her, I won't let it continue."
The king's laugh was scornful, "You sir, do not belong in my house. Get out
or I will have you arrested for trespassing."
"It's my house." Selenity shot back, "Mine. It's in my name. I invited
Darien here and he will stay as long as I want him to. Do you think I am asking
your permission, daddy? Do you honestly think I'm going to ask you for anything
now? I do not want to be a part of a family without love. I grew up in one after
you took my mother away from me. I refuse to die in one. I refuse to let Martin
touch me again, I find him revolting."
Martin let out an inarticulate roar of fury and leapt at her, his arms
outstretched. Darien spun her away from him, sending her towards the couch, and met
the man head on. The two could be brothers, they were so similar in coloring.
Where Darien was lean, Martin was large. Martin and Darien came together in a
flurry of fists. Darien was hooked across the face and retaliated with an uppercut
that sent the other man's jaw snapping together. They rolled around on the floor,
punching each other, jabbing, kicking, biting.
They rolled into a large table, knocking it over and sending a vase of
flowers crashing to the floor, showing them in water as Martin's nose splattered
across his face, Darien's lip splitting and leaking blood. They rolled to their
feet and circled each other. Martin lunged and Darien blocked. He countered with a
nasty jab at the neck join in Martin's neck. Martin screamed as he hit a pressure
point and spun away. "Son of a bitch!"
"That's just the beginning, Martin. I owe you a lot more for what you've
done to Selenity!"
Darien followed, his guard up. He blocked three straight punches before
kicking out, taking the other man off his feet. Martin countered, grabbing his legs
and pulling him down. They continued to punch each other, when Darien finally
slammed his hand into Martin's temple. Two blows later the larger man was laid out,
unconscious, in the middle of the room.
Darien pushed himself to his feet and wiped his hand across his lips. His
knuckles were split, oozing blood, his lip was cut, he could taste blood in his
mouth and his head ached. He didn't heal nearly as fast as Selenity did and the
fight had reopened his head wound. He threw back his shoulders, looking straight at
the king, his gaze steady. "I will marry your daughter, your highness. It is not a
request, but a statement of fact."
Selenity held her hand out to him and he walked swiftly to her, supporting
her in his arms while she looked at her father, "I will speak with you when you are
ready to listen to me, daddy. You know where to find me."
They turned and left the room. Francis settled back into his chair,
collecting his glass and swirling the dark liquid around in it. His daughter had
given him lots to think about.
Author's Note: Phew, wow, that took a lot out of me to write! Lemme know what you
think! Anything!
Jademax@hotmail.com
Thanks for reading!
Jade_Max