Hello everyone! Thanks for reading. So, this chapter deals with an issue that is very personal, and I just wanted to let everyone know that I am in no way glorifying it or insinuating that Zoicite is a weakling or incapable of fighting back. She was merely unarmed. The whole purpose of the incident was to show just how far Michael would go to get what he wants. Plus, going along with the rest of the story, Nephlite has always been a jerk to her. Thanks again for reading and please leave a review. Thanks!

Amelie

Star-Crossed Lovers-Chapter Sixteen

Zoicite was trembling so violently that Juanita had to put an arm around her to support her. She led her over to a cushioned bench near the front of the staircase.

"It's alright, Seňorita," the maid said reassuringly, patting her hand.

Darien was still thunderstruck. He could not believe what his brother had done. A part of him just didn't want to believe it. A part of him wanted Zoicite to be lying about the whole thing. But, somehow, deep in his soul, he knew that she was telling the truth.

"Where did he go?" Darien finally asked, hoping that Zoicite would at least know that much after her traumatic ordeal.

But, she shook her head, continuing to sob. "I don't know. He ran out when…" A look of absolute terror filled her eyes. "….when he was finished."

"Well, so much for having a female guardian, Darien." Nephlite spoke, the comment very sarcastic in tone.

Darien didn't know what to say to that. He was shocked, in fact. Was Nephlite calling Zoicite a weakling? But, before he had the chance to speak, Malachite snarled like a ravaging wolf.

"Don't you dare fucking insinuate that this was her fault!" He shouted, his eyes blazing. He held up his hand, as though ready to punch Nephlite squarely in the face.

But, the brunet General was unphased. He didn't even blink at Malachite's threat. "Well, she is a soldier. She could've fought back," he responded slowly.

At this comment, Darien was forced to look back at the crying woman. "Why didn't you fight back, Zoicite?" He realized how horrible it was to ask right after it had issued from his mouth. Did she think he was blaming her, too? "I-I didn't mean-"

But, Zoicite interrupted. She gasped and then let out a slow whimper. "I was unarmed," she sniffed. "And he had a sword at my throat. He was…hiding in my closet when I came back to my room after breakfast."

It was around nine o'clock in the morning when Zoicite came back to her room. She unlocked the door with her key and made her way inside, expecting to get dressed for another day of training with the men. She was determined to impress Malachite and show Nephlite what a female warrior could do. Obviously she was good at what she did or the King would not have hired her to protect his son. The latter General was such a chauvinistic pig if Zoicite had ever met one. She had to prove him that women were, in fact, as good as men in any aspect of life, and that was her number one goal.

She took down her long blonde hair from its bun and let it fall loose, before opening up her closet door to take out her uniform. Even though it may have seemed improper to admit by society's standards, she had to say that she felt much more comfortable in a suit with pants and a jacket than she did in a dress accompanied with a corset. She couldn't wait to take that God awful thing off.

She took a few steps into her closet, passed her evening and formal dresses, and went straight to the back to grab her uniform. However, just as soon as she reached it, an arm came out of nowhere and put her in a head lock.

"Make one noise, and I'll kill you." It was Prince Michael's voice. It was then that she noticed just how tall he was compared to her…and how strong.

He turned her around violently and placed a long sword at her throat.

"If you give me a reason, I will kill you. Come with me."

He led her into the bedroom, sword pointed toward her, and began to rip at her dress, exposing her corset underneath.

"On second thought," he said as he paused his actions. "Take it all off. I want to see all of you."

Nervously, she did as she was told. She slipped her torn dress over her head and began to undo her corset.

"Too slow," he growled after she fumbled with the laces for several seconds. "I'll do it."

Again, he turned her around harshly, and using his sword, ripped the corset straight off her body.

"Now, get on the bed," he ordered.

She nodded weakly and complied. Keeping his sword on her, Michael proceeded to remove his own clothes.

"Have you done this before?" He asked, his voice low.

She took a deep breath, tears now streaming down her face. "Yes," she responded weakly, nodding.

"Well, then, you'll know what to expect." He let out a small laugh as he put the sword to her throat again. "You will perform every act I instruct you to, and if you scream or resist in any way, I'll slice your throat."

Serena was quite happy with the party. She and the Scouts spent the afternoon eating cake and gossiping, more about Darien than anything else. It wasn't until a guard came running into the dining hall that everyone became concerned.

"Prince Darien is here!" he said, looking like the matter was urgent.

At first, Serena was pleasantly surprised. However, upon seeing the look on Darien's face, she grew worried.

"What is it?" she asked him, leaving her plate on the table and walking over to him. The other girls followed.

"Where is your mother?" he asked without preamble. "I need to speak with her."

"She's working," Serena replied. "On Jupiter, I think Eileen said."

Darien nodded. "Good," he said, but there was nothing "good" about his tone. "I sent Malachite over there to warn the government."

"Why?" asked Serena, taken aback. "What happened?"

"Everyone's looking for Michael," Darien swallowed hard and looked around the room, as if uncertain he wanted to continue speaking. "He….do you remember Zoicite?"

"Of course! She was very sweet," said Serena, wondering what could be the matter. Then it hit her. "Is she alright?"

"No." Darien let out a sigh. "She claims that Michael...raped her this morning."

"What?" Raye was the first of all five girls to say anything. "I knew he was trouble! Didn't I tell you? And I spent all my energy into wacking him in the foot when I should have wacked him in the—"

"Is she alright?" Serena cut in. There was no time for Raye's rambling as terrible thoughts consumed Serena's head.

"She's alive, if that's what you mean," said Darien gravely. "I had my maid take her to the hospital. She's being examined."

"Examined?" Raye echoed. "For wha—ew!" She looked like she was going to vomit up her cake, but everyone sneered at her.

"Shut up, Raye!" Amy finally took charge. "They have to do it. It's procedure."

"What is more disgusting is what he did," said Lita sternly.

"Besides, who knows what Michael's been doing," Mina agreed.

Serena just stood there, lost for words. She couldn't believe it.

It was nightfall by the time Beryl and Michael stopped to rest from a long day of running. Of course, they had to rest in the woods, because they couldn't stop at an inn, but at this point, Michael didn't care. He was still very much high off of the deed he had done earlier in the day. It had been perfect, everything he had imagined and more. Now, all he had to do was get away with it.

"I'm going to light a fire," said Beryl, trying to smooth out the wrinkles on her crumpled dress. Michael had stolen it from his mother's trunk and had forced Beryl to wear it after she had showed up wearing nothing but a sheet.

"Whatever," he said, "but we're not staying here long. We need to keep going."

"Can we go to the Moon?" Beryl asked unexpectedly as she fiddled with some old matches and failed to catch a spark on a patch of leaves.

"Why?" Michael looked at her incredulously, dumbfounded at the stupidity of this question. Of course not! The Moon was the one place that everyone would look for them. Well, besides Earth, of course.

"Well, I'm…I need to see my father. I haven't visited him in about a month, and…well, I wasn't planning on telling you this, but… he's dying." She turned to him, an odd look that he couldn't place in her amber eyes.

"What do you mean 'he's dying'?" Michael asked.

"I mean he has lung cancer. The doctors say he only has about a month or so now to live and I wanted to spend as much time with him as I could. Can we please go see him? Who knows? You two might get along."

Michael had to roll his eyes. "Whatever," he said. "But, how will I keep myself from being recognized? The whole Galaxy is on the lookout for me by now."

"Easy," she said. "I'll pass you off as my cousin. The guards know I'm staying with my relatives, so it won't be a problem."

"What about my face?" he demanded rudely. "They're certain to recognize it."

"Not if you wear a mask." Beryl threw the useless matches aside and began tearing at her dress. "Here." She threw a piece of the bottom at him. "Wear this."

"So who am I going to be?" he asked, almost lightly. "Your Arab cousin?"

Because, honestly, with what she had given him, that's exactly what he would look like.

Within a few hours' time, they had made it to the Moon and Beryl was all too happy to be going to see her father, but Michael was disgusted at the deplorable condition of the prison. It was a very old, almost ancient fortress, heavily guarded, and outside was filthier than anything he had ever seen. He couldn't imagine spending over a decade there.

However, the outside was absolutely nothing compared to the conditions of the inside of the prison. Upon passing the guards at the front gate, Michael could smell the stench of something terrible. There was muck and grime all over the walls, so nasty that Michael was afraid to walk too close to them for fear that he might be contaminated.

However, he could not escape that horrid stench. It was suffocating him and his "mask" was not helping at all. Mere moments before he and Beryl entered her father's cell, Michael was forced to take it off for fear of losing his breath completely. Luckily, if the guards noticed him, they made no motion to stop or grab him and permitted them to enter.

At least, they made no such motion until after the interview with Beryl's father was complete. Then, they threw themselves on him.

"Your Majesties," a messenger came running up to the Royal family of Earth with urgency written all over his face.

Both Robert and Darien stood up from their chairs to greet the man. Bianca was holding a sleeping little Bernice in her lap.

"Your Majesties," the man repeated. "We have found Prince Michael. I received word from the Moon Kingdom that he has been detained in the Lithgow Prison."

"How was he found?" asked Darien, not letting his father get the first word in.

"He and Mistress Beryl were visiting her father. The Prince was wearing a mask to conceal his face, but he took it off and the guards recognized him immediately, and now they have him detained there until you can come claim him."

"But, what should we do with him?" Bianca asked, concern for her son written all over her face. Of course, it was what Darien expected out of his mother. She had been making excuses for her youngest son for his entire life.

"We throw him in prison, just like we would anyone else," the Crown Prince responded strongly. "What he did is inexcusable, and I, for one, am not going to let him get away with this just because he is a Prince or because he's your little boy."

Bianca's eyes widened in shock and hurt, but something else in them told Darien that she knew what he said was the truth.

He turned to Robert. "We need to arrest him."

His father did nothing but sigh. He closed his eyes for a moment and brought a hand to his temple.

"He's right, Bianca," the King finally responded. "We can't let him get away with what he did."

They arrived at Lithgow Prison a few hours later, and Darien was quite satisfied to see Michael in chains. Beryl had her arm around him, as if she could offer any comfort, and provided Darien and his father with a look of absolute hatred.

"Father!" Michael shouted. "You know I did nothing wrong! Let me go!"

Darien was about ready to strike his father if he suddenly decided to go back on his word, but the look in his eyes was unwavering from what it had been before their arrival.

"Michael," the King of Earth began, looking as though it took all the strength in the world for him to speak. "As you are my youngest son, I have let you get away with the worst of offenses for your entire life. But," the man's eyes suddenly became hard as they stared at his son, "not anymore." He swallowed. "You are under arrest for rape, as well as lewd and lascivious conduct."

He motioned to his soldiers. "Take him away."

Michael screamed so loudly that it echoed around the prison. "You can't do this to me, you old bastard! I'm a Prince!"

"And I'm the King," Robert said calmly. "As such, I most certainly can."

Michael screamed again and began to kick and squirm like a child, as if that would free him from his shackles. Soon he became so violent in his attempt to break free that the soldiers had to use force and pin him down to the stone floor. After about five minutes of screaming and resistance, the boy finally calmed down and consented to being taken away, knowing that his act was futile.

When he was raised up from the floor, Michael's face was bloody and bruised, but King Robert made no move to help his injured son. Instead, he nodded to his soldiers to finally take him away. But, Michael wasn't finished just yet. He turned and sent a mixture of blood and saliva straight at his father's face.

"That's for all your love, Father," he said hoarsely. "Tell Mother and Bernice I send them some, too. And Darien," he turned to his brother, who up until then had no idea how to react to Michael's antics. "Perhaps you'd like to know that Thion has a message for Queen Serenity. I thought you might want to deliver it to her. "

He spat once more, this time at his brother, and began walking in sync with the soldiers out of the prison.

As he watched his brother be led away, Darien didn't know why, but for some reason, what he had just heard bothered him. What could Thion possibly have to say to the Moon Queen? Was it a threat?

That scared him more than anything.

Robert put a hand on his elder son's shoulder. "Come," he said. "Don't fall for Michael's lies. Not anymore."

But, something was still bothering the young man. "I think I'll talk to him. Thion, I mean. I have to know what he wants with the Queen."

Robert shrugged his shoulders. "If you insist, son, but it won't do anyone any good. The man is a liar and a murderer. Whatever he says can't be taken seriously."

However, Darien wasn't so sure. He nodded to his father, to reassure them that he would be on his guard with whatever he heard from the man's mouth, but he did not hesitate to ask the guards of the prison where Thion's cell was.