His body collided roughly with Miles', almost back at the entrance to the Great Hall.
"Where's the fire Bass?"
Still burning brightly inside me after my inappropriate romp with my future daughter-in-law and your daughter.
He wanted to say, but he didn't say anything. Choosing to ignore the question and push past him instead.
Miles' hand shot out, locking on his elbow, "are you okay Bass?"
"Yeah Miles," Bass grumbled out, hoping that would satisfy him enough for one night, but he should've known better. Miles always like to stoke at the fire until it burst into raging flames.
"Listen, I'm glad I caught you alone. I wanted to have a word with you about Charlie."
Luckily Miles removed his hand before casting that anchor; Bass' body froze, suddenly hit with the memories of earlier outside, the way she tightly contracting around his fingers, and the way her fiery eyes rolled into the back of her head.
"What about her?"
Miles ran a hand through his hair and Bass knew exactly what it meant. He knew every nervous tick Miles had. Hell, he knew everything about Miles in general.
"Are you no longer satisfied with our agreed upon terms? Are you here trying to retract your offer?"
Miles snapped his eyes up to meet Bass' sheepishly. "No I'm not here to renegotiate or withdrawal. I just—I'm not sure Charlie is ready to be married yet Bass, don't you think it could be put on hold for just a while longer perhaps? I'm sure Connor—"
"You're sure Connor what?"
Bass' fury interjected, cutting Miles off. "What, all of the sudden Connor isn't suitable enough for Charlie? Is that it? Because he's my son?"
Miles' eyes widened in shock at his outburst, "that's not what I mean, nor what I said."
Bass chuckled humorlessly, "you didn't have to say it Miles. Everyone else has made their sentiments towards me known, especially that foul wife you have."
Miles sighed, not even bothering to defend Rachel. "Look Bass, Rachel is Rachel. I don't see why you her outspoken, opinionated nature bothers you now. Whatever she said just put it aside. You know how Rachel is—"
"I don't give a damn about Rachel."
He pointed a stern finger in Miles' direction, "but I will not tolerate someone going around my castle, spreading malicious lies about me. Especially not her. I am the King here. I make the rules."
"I'm quite positive no one pays any attention Rachel anyway, but the only person she would've said anything to is Charlie, and she won't believe—"
Bass threw his head back, incredulous laughter ripping through his body. "Oh but she does Miles. Rachel has done a fantastic job of infiltrating the fortress of Charlie's mind, like she does with everyone else."
"To be fair you're not helping the cause. Throwing out orders left and right, barking at her, locking her in a dungeon—"
"Because she was being disobedient. And I'm the King, it's my job to give orders," he adamantly protested.
"She isn't a horse you can break Bass, she's never going to be obedient. I thought you of all people would've known that when we first agreed upon her marrying Connor. You asked if she was anything like me, and I confirmed she was my spitting image, temper and attitude alike. Did you really think you were going to make her listen, by using force nonetheless?"
He threw his hands up, "so what, I'm supposed to let her walk all over me and undermine me in front of my subjects?"
Miles started shaking his head. "No of course not. I would never suggest you do that—"
"Then what else is there to do Miles? Tell her my side of the story? Should I mention how you got Connor's mother killed because you were selfish and greedy, and I was young and stupid, following your every move no matter if it seemed a good idea. Tell her you thought it a good idea to attack a neighboring kingdom in order to expand our ruiling terrority."
Miles' eyes shifted as Bass solemnly snorted, "that's what I presumed. You don't want her to know all the bad shit you've done, and I can't tell my side of the story without exposing that part of your past. So I have to sit here and suffer, while everyone else looks at me like I'm the only one with a guilty conscience and blood on my hands. I have to play the role of the bad guy, while you get to play the hero, saving the day, as usual."
"I should just tell her the truth, regardless of what you want, because she deserves to know, because I deserve to clear my name, which has been dragged through the mud by your loathsome wife. And I shouldn't have to be the villain of the story forever," Bass mused aloud.
Miles panicked for a moment upon hearing Bass' declaration. Not necessarily because he didn't want Charlie to know, well he really didn't, but because it should come from him, not Bass. He was her father.
"It wouldn't do me any good to tell her," Miles' internal monologue got cut short when Bass began again.
"She hates me and probably wouldn't believe a word I said, even though I've given her no reason not to. If anything, I'm probably the only one who's been completely honest with her, but her mind is made up it seems. I believe she hates me more than Queen Bitch," Bass heartily laughed, though there was no humor behind it.
He honest to God believed Charlie harbored hatred towards him, despite her apparent physical attraction to him.
You could be physically attracted to a person, and still hate them all the same. It has been said the only thing stronger than love is hate.
"Please inform the guests I have retired for the night, and thank them all for coming," Bass spun on his heels, intending to make a quick exit to his chambers.
Miles' voice called out before he could go too far, "what about the announcement? What about Connor?"
"The guests were unaware of the reason for the festivities, you know how those royals are. They're only here for the ale and the entertainment."
Bass slowly turned back around, smirk sliding into place, "you can explain to Connor the reason for the postponed announcement. I was perfectly content going through with it."
Lie lie lie. A boldfaced lie, but now at least he could blame it on Miles. For once he could use Miles as his scapegoat, draping the blame over him.
He didn't give Miles any time to rebuke or continue their discussion, heels snapping together loudly as he all but stomped in the direction of his chambers. All he wanted to do for the rest of the night was drink himself into a drunken stupor.
And so he did as the party continued on in the Great Hall, all smiles and laughter could be heard throughout the castle. Even coming from Charlie herself who, after their brief lover's spat, or whatever it was, had returned, intent on enjoying the rest of the night.
She wasn't even surprised to see Miles strolling into the Hall by himself awhile later; she assumed Bass went to lock himself away for the rest of the evening. Just like he did every time there was a problem or a spat between them.
Quickly, he made an announcement to the rest of the party, and as soon as he opened his mouth, smile gracing his face, Charlie held her breath. She assumed this would be the moment that would forever tie her to Connor.
Brows furrowing in confusion, she let out a long sigh of relief, glad for Connor's obliviousness, when all her father had to say was the continue with the celebrations.
She danced, pushing aside all of her worries and troubles, catching her father's eye every once and awhile, smiling as his face beamed with pride. It felt nice to feel free, even though it was only briefly, and even though what happened earlier kept creeping back into her mind.
Charlie was in such good spirits; she happily obliged Connor with a few dances, finding him to be a rather good dancing companion. Not to say he was particularly skilled in the art of dance, but he was fun. He made it enjoyable every time his feet tripped up, or accidentally stepped on her toes.
She tried not to think about Bass and the way his hands felt on her as they danced. Comforting, yet commanding, in control at all times. She especially shoved the memories of his rough hands in between her silky thighs, working her into a puddle.
Spinning around, Charlie felt a light twinge on her other arm, the one not connected to Connor's hand.
Pulling her arm back, she saw a large, angry red gash forming, blood trickling out. Cradling her arm in towards her body, her eyes scanned the area out of reflex, trying to see who the culprit was, but shook those thoughts out of her head immediately.
She was sure it was just an accident.
"Is everything alright Charlie?"
Looking up, she met Connor's concerned face.
She nodded, "yes quite alright, I must've caught my arm on something sharp during the spin. One never knows what's hidden in those ghastly dresses women are forced to wear."
Lifting her arm up, she showed him the mark as worry set in on her facial features, "that looks ghastly, should I get anyone to assist you in cleaning the wound before any type of infection sets in?"
His eyes immediately started to look for the closest knight, landing on Baker's form, laughing with a few other men surrounding him.
Charlie impatiently tugged on his arm, "no, no that's nonsense. I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself. If you'll just excuse me for a few moments."
Connor smiled, nodding and extending an arm out for her to make her exit. She was able to hid her arm underneath her other one, as she passed by people, smiling towards them. They of course were filled to the brim with ale and could care less. Charlie could've been riding a dragon out and they wouldn't have noticed.
Despite the sounds of joy and laughter filling the usually empty, hollow walls of the castle, Bass felt miserable. Locked away in his chambers, drowning his sorrows in a bottle of particularly potent wine, given to him as a gift earlier this evening. His vision became hazy, a tingling, dull feeling washing over his body until he felt nothing. He felt numb.
He thought about sending for Duncan several times, but opted against it ultimately. Mostly because he was too drunk to move, and because everyone was downstairs, enjoying themselves, as they should be. As he should be doing.
A light squeak came from the door, eyes opening as he squinted, trying to make out the figure, but it was no use. All he could see was a hooded dark colored cape. He was far too drunk. Maybe he really did send for Duncan. No one else let themselves into his room without knocking or announcing their present.
"Not in th'mood," he managed to slur out as the figure stepped closer to him, but as soon as his ass hit the stone ground, he realized it couldn't possibly be Duncan.
He grunted, feeling a hand collide with his jaw, shifting his neck to the side.
Bass was seriously starting to regret drinking this much. He could barely even fight back, but he gave the person hell as much as his lifeless body would allow.
Maybe this was fate. Maybe this was his karma. Whatever it was, he felt for sure he was going to die in that moment, catching a glimpse of a silver sword, reflecting in the candlelight.
He felt his head ricocheting against the floor, black encroaching, surrounding him as his eyelids drooped.
He waited, and waited for the feel of a sword, plunging into his body, but he felt nothing. He heard nothing for what felt like hours, though it was probably only minutes, until a loud voice boomed, "seize her!"
Bass couldn't open his eyes, the throbbing pain too much to bear. He could only barely hear a meek voice, squeaking out in protest.
"I didn't do this. I came in and found him like this."
Charlie struggled against the iron grip of one of the knights whose name she didn't know. He wasn't one of the regular knights she had grown accustomed to. These men were hired as extra security, some good they were doing, downstairs getting drunk while a real problem was occurring right under their noses.
"What's the meaning of this?"
Baker rushed into the room, shoving the door open to find Charlie thrashing about and Bass lying half unconscious on the ground.
"We caught her red handed, sword in hand and the King's body on the ground." The knight smiled in triumph, as though he single handedly saved the life of the King of Kairos.
"Do you know who she is?"
Baker indicated towards Charlie with a jerk of his thumb. The young knight's face flushed with embarrassment.
"That's Princess Charlotte Matheson, and I would suggest you release her. I'm certain there is a perfectly reasonable explanation—"
"I'm not under your command, sir," the boy declared, trying to appear stern.
"I was hired as an extra measure by the King himself. I only take orders from him. Besides, there can be no other explanation for this. I found the princess holding the sword, looking down at the King. If that isn't enough for a conviction, I don't know what is."
"Well with those deductive reasoning skills I'm surprised you weren't hired immediately by the council. There was another person in here you dim witted fool." Charlie roughly attempted to pull her body away, but all it seemed to do was cause his grip to tighten.
"I saw no other person upon entering—"
"That's because he left," she sneered.
"Which way did he go?"
This time it was Charlie who appeared embarrassed. She had been so caught up in making sure Bass was okay, everything else, all rational and procedure fell to the side. His chambers had many different places in which the person could've exited. There was his private entrance, separate from the one leading to the outside hall, and multiple windows adorning the expansive room. She couldn't say for certain in which direction the person went, and Bass' life was at stake, she couldn't make up an answer.
Her silence didn't go unnoticed, but what were her options? If she lied and they found out, she would look guilty. If she said she didn't know she would look guilty. Either way the sword swung, she looked guilty unless they found the person.
"Besides," the young, agitating knight guy continued, "she has a fresh wound on her arm, how else could you explain that?"
"I was cut during the dance—"
The guy's eyes twinkled in amusement, convinced she was lying, "cut…during a dance? I've never heard such a story."
Charlie snarled at his mockery, baring her teeth at him. "That's because it's not a story. You can ask Prince Connor, he'll confirm my story. I left to clean the wound before it got infected. As per his instructions."
Connor shook his head from where he appeared at the entryway. "I'm so sorry Charlie. I don't remember you getting cut."
What was he saying? She did a double take in his direction, not even believing the words that were spewing from his mouth. Maybe he was slightly confused because of the whole ordeal.
Her jaw dropped open, breath rushing out of her chest, "what are you—what are you talking about? You heard me."
"All I heard over the commotion was you saying something about women hiding things in their dresses and asking to be excused for a moment."
He not only heard her, he's the one who told her to go and clean herself up. Why was he lying? And doing a damn good job for that matter. His face looked green as though disgusted by the idea of his future wife trying to murder his father.
"'S going on?"
Bass' groggy voice caused them all to turn their heads in his direction.
Letting out a grunt, he opened one eye slightly, keeping the other one securely closed.
Upon seeing Charlie's pained expression, being physically held captive by a knight, Bass' eyes shot open as wide as they would allow. Whatever was in his system was doing a damn good job of keeping him almost inarticulate and unintelligible, but Bass never stayed down long.
He tried sitting up, but the room started to twirl, "'s the meaning of this?"
"Sir, we found her in here, trying to assassinate you—"
"Bass, I would—"
He cut her off, "she was the only person in here when I arrived, after hearing something outside your door. The princess was kneeling next to your limp body, sword in one hand, wound on the other arm."
Bass' head started to spin even more, if that was possible. There was absolutely no way Charlie could've done this.
Charlie couldn't have done this.
There was absolutely no way.
Could she?