Hi Friends!
For those of you still sticking with my story I wanted to say thank you! I know the updates are slower than you (and I) would like but rest assured that I won't abandon the story.
Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following!
Please forgive/ignore any mistakes...they happen no matter how much I read through the story before publishing.
Enjoy!
"What do you mean it was all your fault?" he asked, using one of his crutches to help him stand up from his crouched position next to Lord Rossi.
"Well – I-I –"
"Jennifer was captured by Charles's men one night when we were out trying to replenish our food supply, Your Grace," Will spoke up from behind her. He then walked up to her and laid his chin on her shoulder while wrapping his hands around her waist, squeezing tightly in a show of moral support.
"You were caught too? How did you escape?" Derek asked, both concern and confusion lacing his voice.
"Well…I was in the kitchen gathering scraps of food when some of Charles's men took me by surprise. They grabbed me and carried me all the way back to their campsite, never stopping once until we reached King Charles's tent. They took me inside and…and there was King Spencer. He-he was sitting on the ground in front of the king's bed. They had tied his hands to the footboard and it looked like he had been beaten," she explained, her voice catching when she described Spencer's state.
"Beaten?" Derek growled.
She nodded nervously and her strong exterior started to crack as a few tears welled up at the memory she was being forced to relive. "Y-yes, Your Grace. His face was bruised, he had a split lip, and his foot – his foot was black-and-blue…perhaps broken."
"You don't know?"
She shook her head.
Derek brought one hand up and wiped it over his face in an effort to regain some composure after thinking about his lover being battered and bruised.
The king was beginning to feel unsteady on his feet and the ache emanating from the wound on his side wasn't helping. His overwhelming emotions were combining with his fatigue, threatening to pull him down right where he stood.
"Your Highness, are you feeling alright?" Sir Hotchner asked, noticing how the king seemed to be precariously swaying on his crutches.
"Yes, thank you. I'll be fine." Derek tightened his arms on the wooden supports and looked back over to Lady Jennifer, "What happened after you were taken to Charles?"
Jennifer was reluctant to carry on after seeing Derek's reaction to Spencer's state but knew holding back information would only hinder her friend's rescue. "They started to question me but I refused to answer." She closed her eyes, causing a few tears to drop down her rosy cheeks, "He – he started to hit King Spencer every time I denied him information."
The young man narrowed his eyes at the news and made a hand gesture for her to continue.
"I-I couldn't keep watching him hurt Spence – uh King Spencer – so I started talking."
"What did he want to know?"
"The first thing he asked me was for our names," JJ explained.
"Wait…what? He didn't know who Spencer was?"
"No, Your Highness. He had no idea that he was hold the king captive. Charles thinks that King Spencer is a slave. He's taking him back to Georgia and turning him into one of his household slaves."
"You're serious? Charles has no idea who Spencer really is?" Derek asked in disbelief.
"No, Your Grace. In fact, he was going make me take him throughout the castle and show him all our hiding spots to help aid him in his search for Spencer," she explained.
Derek allowed his lips to turn upwards. "Well at least one thing is going our way. Hopefully Spencer will be able to keep up his ruse as a slave…" The brief smile that had painted his face slowly faded as his mind took him down a darker path, "…because if Charles knew who he really was…"
"But, Your Grace…Charles doesn't plan on using Spence as one would a traditional slave…he-he's going to make him…service him in…lewd and-"
"Enough, I don't need you to paint a picture. And I can't think about that right now…what matters is that he is alive and we have a chance to bring him home. He'll hold out against whatever that tyrant throws at him…I know he will," Derek vowed, pushing the thoughts of his lover being forced into lecherous man's bed deep down in his mind.
The men and women in the room mirrored the king's emotions, each of them imagining what the menacing monarch was planning to do to their sweet innocent king.
Derek forced a cough to break the brooding silence, forcing everyone's minds back to the present. "You have yet to get to the part where you escaped."
Jennifer took a big gulp of air, steeling herself for Derek's imminent reaction to her tale. "Charles and his man Rapheal – "
"That's his brother," Derek cut in.
Jennifer nodded, "Charles and his brother decided to go fetch everyone and assemble a search party. They were going to take me with them and we were going to search the castle like I mentioned earlier. The two of them left us alone after they tied me to the bed next to His Highness. Once they were gone I helped Spencer get his gag out and we were able to talk. He told me about how he got captured…he-uh-he was trying to get the Dowager Queen to go into hiding when Charles and his men came in. He was kneeling in front of your mother and she started to address him as a slave so King Charles wouldn't find out who he was. He watched as Raphael killed the Dowager Queen and he told me that it was Charles, himself, that stabbed Lord Rossi…"
"And when they were done they must have taken Spencer with them," Derek concluded.
She nodded and then looked up, "I-I didn't get a chance to tell him that Lord Rossi was still alive...because the-the rope around my wrist came loose and I was able to get free. I started to undo his bindings b-but Spe-Spence - he stopped me. He said there wasn't enough time and that I had to leave. I argued with him but he ordered me to abandon him…a-a-and he told me that it was my job to tell you what had happened to him. He said he wanted me to tell you that he loves you and he won't give up on you. A-after that I snuck under the bottom of the tent and made my way back here."
The king stood silent as his mind took the new information and processed it. Suddenly a swirl of mixed emotions were fighting for dominance in his brain – fear, worry, pride, anger, hopelessness, and anguish. His beleaguered mind processed them all before it settled on the one that felt right for the moment, anger.
The change in Derek's countenance was noticeable to everyone as he clenched his fists tighter against the wooden crutches and squeezed his eyes into small slits. Sir Hotchner could tell that the news that Jennifer had just delivered had touched a nerve with his young sovereign and prepared himself for the worst.
"You mean to tell me that you had an opportunity to free him and yet you chose to save yourself?" Derek roared irrationally.
Jennifer cringed back into Will's body as if to hide within the depths of his arms. "H-he told me to leave him, Y-your Highness. Spence-"
"Don't you dare call him by his given name! That is a right reserved for friends; a title that you no longer possess. You – you selfish -"
Even though he had been prepared for this type of reaction, Sir Hotchner still found himself appalled at the king's overemotional state. He knew that his friend was letting his worries about his lover get in the way of rational thinking. So, in the hopes of stop Derek from saying something worse – something that he could never take back – he put his hand on the king's shoulder and stopped him from finishing his sentence, "Your Highness, let's go to your chambers and discuss this new information in a reasonable manner."
Derek wrenched his shoulder out from Hotchner's grip and turned toward his friend, "I am being reasonable!"
"Of course you are, Your Grace. But perhaps we should be discussing this sensitive subject in private. Let me send for Sir Kassmeyer and the three of us can confer on where to go from here. Besides, you need to eat and rest your body before you upset your wounds or cause irreparable damage to your side," Hotchner explained sagely.
The king glanced at the floor before looking back up at his friend with eyes that exuded sorrow and fear. "You are right, as always. What would I do without you my friend, especially now?" Derek asked, making sure to emphasize the word "friend." Ignoring the stricken look upon Jennifer's face, the king turned heel on the audience of courtiers that were watching the show and left the room.
Aaron turned to the blue-eyed girl and said softly, "Give him some time. He's letting his fear do all the talking. I'm sure he will be more rational after he's had a few minutes to come to terms with what has happened."
Jennifer said nothing but Will nodded his head behind her, "I'm sure you're right. He's going through some of the worst days in his life. It can't be easy. Go on, he needs you. I'll take care of things here." Will squeezed his lady lover again after his last sentence, silently telling her that things would be okay.
Hotchner nodded and took his leave of the courtiers, trailing after the distraught young monarch.
Spencer could tell that Tobias was reluctant to take him to his father's groomsmen. While the prince hadn't voiced his disapproval as to what was going to happen to his newest friend it was obvious in his body language. For, the other young man had withdrawn into himself and had taken to walking at a snail's pace throughout the foreboding castle.
When they finally reached their journey's end on the second floor of the east wing the scraggly youth started unwinding the rope around Spencer's wrists. The captive king watched as the other's shaking hands gently turned his end of the twine around and around in circles, unraveling Spencer's bonds. It seemed as if time had slowed down and the world was lingering on this moment.
As the last of the rope slid away revealing the co-king's raw wrists the two young men looked at each other. Spencer's mouth started to open, intent on asking Tobias what was going to happen now but the other boy beat him to the punch.
"I'm so sorry," he whimpered.
"Why?" Spencer said with a small voice.
"Because…because I don't agree with what's about to happen to you and I can't do anything to stop it."
The genius turned and looked at the gilded doors before him. "What's going to happen?" Spencer already had a good feeling as to what was in store for him but he wanted to hear his friend confirm it.
"M-my father, he-he's about to have you molded to fit his tastes," Tobias said with disgust. "And then… and then he'll use you as he sees fit."
The two were silent for a few minutes, each contemplating Spencer's future, when the prince gnashed his teeth together and spat out, "God, I hate him!"
Spencer was surprised to feel the anger oozing off of Tobias when he said those last words. He hadn't known the boy for that long and was shocked that his friend was already feeling such strong emotions over a simple slave's fate.
Out of nowhere an idea sparked to life in Spencer's head. "Well, you could run away…and you could take me with you," he suggested hopefully.
The strength that had just shown in Tobias's emotions seemed to drain away instantly. The anger fell off of his face and was replaced with fear. "He'd find us and punish us."
"No-no he wouldn't. We'd run far from here and hide in the forest. We could steal a bow and arrow before we left. I've got good aim and we could easily build a fire to cook whatever I catch. We'll go far away from here…far away from Georgia…and Quantico…it will be an opportunity for us both to start over. Just the two of us…please Tobias…I don't want to live like this," Spencer beseeched the frightened boy.
It seemed to the co-king that his appeal was going to work. The prince had a far off look on his face and it looked like he was entertaining the slave's suggestion. Unfortunately, at that moment the doors next to them opened, revealing Charles's head groomsman and effectively interrupting Tobias's train of thought.
"Oh! I thought I heard voices out here," the man said, bowing down to the prince out of respect. "How can I be of service, Your Highness?"
Tobias shook his head of whatever thoughts had been floating through his mind and said to the man, "I'm here to deliver my father's newest – uh – slave. He is to be given the full treatment and taken to the king's bedchambers before nightfall."
The man looked Spencer up and down with a look of revulsion. "I've got my work cut out for me this time, I see," he sneered.
"Um – yes, well…you know what my father likes. I'll trust you to it," Tobias said reluctantly. He turned to Spencer and hesitantly met his brown eyes once again, "I really am sorry."
The secret sovereign didn't deign to respond to Tobias's apology. He was too upset that once again the boy knew that what was happening was wrong but refused to do anything about it. Instead, Spencer bowed his head, breaking from the prince's gaze, and turned toward the groom.
He was pushed inside without another room and greeted with the scent of roses and an overwhelming amount of steam.
The head groomsman led Spencer over to a steaming tub of water and said to the two teenagers that were standing nearby, "The king brought home another plaything. You know the drill."
Wordlessly the boys approached Spencer and started to grab at his clothes.
"Hey! What are you doing?" he cried out in embarrassment, backing up into the solid body of the head groom.
"Stand still, you filthy urchin. We've got to prepare you for your audience with the King Charles later," he snarled at the boy he thought was below him in station.
"I-I can do it myself," Spencer stuttered, stumbling forward after the man behind him shoved him in the back.
The groom rolled his eyes, "Fine. Remove those rags and leave them on the floor. Then get into the tub."
The trapped king looked back and forth at the three men, "Y-you don't have to watch."
There was spattering of laughter from his audience before the headman said, "Just do as you're told or else I'll have to get out the whip."
Spencer, who remembered well what the strike of a whip felt like on his fragile skin, nodded glumly and kept his eyes averted to the ground as he stripped his body of his clothes. He could feel his face flush red when his trousers fell away, leaving him completely exposed except for his collar and the key hanging down around his neck. Ignoring the small laughs at his discomfort, Spencer climbed into the tub and gradually lowered his body down into the steaming liquid.
He wasn't even given time to adjust to the temperature when the young men attacked him with soapy pieces of cloth. They were heedless of his discomfort as they scrubbed each and every inch of his anatomy. The captive king let out a few yelps when they scoured his sensitive spots while he tried his best to dislodge their grip from his package. Unfortunately, his struggles to maintain his dignity were met with a sharp knock upside his head and a gruff, "Sit still, slave!"
After that the young man let his body slump limply into the tub, trying to make it as difficult as possible for his groomers to do their job. He then closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the white surface. He tried his best to conjure images of Derek rubbing him all over with the cloths while he teased him by splashing water on his face. Sadly, the pictures in his mind only served as a harsh reminder that his beloved was dead and that he would never again feel Derek's strong hands touching his body.
Thankfully, the bath was soon declared over and Spencer's mind was drawn out of its fantasies. The men instructed him to stand up in the tub and they started to look him over.
The head groom took charge from there and immediately set about getting various measurements from Spencer's body with a tailor's tape measure.
First he reached up and grabbed the slave's forearm wrapping the device around it, "Huh…not much meat on your bones, is there boy? I hope the smithy has something to fit your scrawny arms." His hand then traveled down Spencer's arm and stopped at his wrist, clasping it tightly and bringing it up into his view before giving it the same treatment. "Your wrists aren't much better but I'm sure he'll have something appropriate for 'em. Now lift one of your legs out and put it on the edge of the tub."
Spencer did as instructed and watched as the man also measured the circumference of his ankles. After that the groomsman stood up straight and studied the collar that encapsulated the captive's neck. He ordered the young man to turn around slowly while he had his finger hooked under the bottom edge of the band. Carefully, so as to avoid slipping, Spencer did as instructed and turned his body around.
When his back was to the three men he heard the word, "Stop."
He froze in place and felt a tug on metal collar.
"I don't suppose that key that you wear unlocks this hideous thing?" the man asked.
Remembering his lie to Charles's, Spencer answered judiciously, "It would if the lock wasn't melded shut."
"Then why the key?"
"It's to serve as a reminder that I can never be free of my bonds no matter how close salvation lies."
The man smirked at the boy's answer as he walked back to the front of the tub. "Genius. Absolutely genius…it's a shame it's not gold though. King Charles doesn't settle for silver…as you'll see when you get to his quarters. Well, at least it's got this," he said, yanking on the ring hanging off the front of the collar. "I have something that will go nicely with that…Okay, boys you're in charge of cleaning him up the rest of the way while I go get his uniform. I'm going to lock you in here so our slave here doesn't try something stupid, like trying to escape."
"Yes, sir," they obediently said in unison as their superior walked out of the room, securing the door with a turn of his key.
Immediately, the two boys started talking.
"You're going to need a straight razor and more soap," one young man said as he peered at the slave's nether regions.
"Hell no…I'm older and I've been doing this longer. So you're going to need a straight razor. I'm going to need some shears," the other one declared, his eyes focused on Spencer's hair.
"Fine…let's just get this over with," the younger boy said reluctantly.
The older page smiled at his triumph and went to get the supplies they would need. Meanwhile the other teen started soaping up his rag once again and rubbing it along Spencer's groin. His coworker came back and handed him a straight razor which he immediately applied to the sudsy region.
Spencer flushed with humiliation while someone only a few years younger than him started shaving off his hair. It was a completely violating and demeaning experience that seemed to last forever. When the kid was finally done the co-king was standing in a tub filled with shorn short dark hair.
"Come on now, get out and go sit on that bench there by the mirror. I've got to trim your hair," the older teen instructed, walking behind Spencer as he went where indicated.
The slave sat down on the cushioned seat and faced the looking glass. For the first time in a while he was able to see his haggard appearance. His face was taunt with stress and bags had formed around his eyes, which themselves had a haunted look about them.
The older page came up behind him and gathered Spencer's limp wet hair together behind his head. The captive king watched with mortification as the kid brought the pair of shears up to the hair that Derek so loved and succinctly chopped it off.
Spencer gasped as what was left of his hair fell into its natural position in extremely uneven strands.
"Oh don't worry, I'm not done yet. That was just the first stage. I've got to take your sides all the way down and trim the top to about ½ an inch in length. King Charles says that long hair is something that only a gentleman may wear. Especially since people like you are more inclined to attracting lice," he explained in a bored voice as he continued hacking away at Spencer's hair.
The young monarch had to call on all of his mental reserves in order to keep his emotions under control. Sitting there being forced to watch as his honey brown locks were cropped down to the skin was one of the worse tortures he had ever endured. It felt like this teenage boy was stripping his identity away snip by snip. And worst of all he seemed to go out of his way to make the hair fall past Spencer's eyes and into his lap as a reminder of how powerless he was in this situation.
When the last snip of the shears was complete the image staring back at the genius was unrecognizable. It was a shadow of his former self. His cheeks were sunken and the bones were jutting out from his skin, something that his hair had helped to hide from site. His eyes looked two times bigger, now easily displaying his sorrow for all the world to see. Finally, his collar was more prominently on display now that his layers of hair were no longer present to distract a curious onlooker's eye. Now the band's silvery sheen glinted brightly in the candlelight, proclaiming to all the people in Georgia exactly what his status was among them.
"Well that took longer than I thought," came the head grooms voice from the doorway. "I didn't find out until I was halfway back that the king had a special outfit in mind for this one."
Spencer turned his owlish eyes towards the sound of the man's voice, curious as to what he was going to have to wear.
The groomsman had a bundle of gilt chains gathered up in his arms and very little fabric. Spencer felt his amber pools go wide as the bundle was dropped and his uniform was held up.
From that point forward there was no doubt in Spencer's mind what his duties to the king would entail.
Up next: Spencer and Charles will have their first encounter and Derek will start planning Spencer's rescue.