WOW! I wanted to thank you all for reading and reviewing/ follows/ fav. especially since this is such a different setting, so THANK you! Here's the next chapter, I hope you like this one too and maybe leave a review? x
PS: Happy #SarahSunday for those of you on twitter :)
Chapter 2: Help Me
Her eyes widen in shock. "No," her hands falling flush against her stomach as she collapses forward, the words of her uncle pushing all the air out of her lungs. Her head lifts slightly and she notices how the crowd had parted around her, making her able to see how he walks away from her.
"Wait," she swallows in her words as she leaps forward. Her feet immediately coming to a halt, her hand still lingering in the air as she realizes she isn't in the position to run after him. All eyes directed on her, the princess. She can't run after him, as much as she wants to she can't. Not with her uncle towering out above her now.
His jaw clenches with every step he takes. The wide eyed look his younger brother is giving him not helping in any way. He shakes his head, signalling he doesn't want to hear a single word about it, but he's not ready to give up all together.
He had no intention in marrying her, he really hadn't, but the moment his eyes met hers something shifted. Swallowing he looks over his shoulder one last time as he hears a cry echo through the room. His eyes meeting hers, he notices the way hers are filled with tears. The way her arm is being pulled by what he can only assume to be the man that just made that announcement.
He turns around rapidly, walking towards the scene as he sees the King drag the young redhead over the floor. His pace increasing as he notices the way she's fighting the hold on her arm, the way she begs the man to let her go, the way she tries to run in his direction.
The younger prince now following his older brother as they run through the crowd. "Let her go," Harvey's tone firm as he tries to remove the man's hand from her arm, but the way she turns to face him preventing him from succeeding. Her right hands moves across her chest before her arms fall against his, her watery eyes staring at him. "Please," she whispers begging.
"Guards!" Hardman's words making him look up and down from the redhead to the old man behind her. His hand just scraping hers as her uncle pulls her further away. His fingers holding onto the object she shoves into his hand.
"Let her go," he demands once more as both Specter men step forward, but four guards pull them back. Their unsuccessful actions making Hardman laugh out loud as he pushes the redhead away. Her body falling to the ground, she tries to crawl away from the situation, but a man she's never seen before is preventing her from doing so.
"Look at that.." Hardman shakes his head sluggishly as his head falls back from laughter, "those two knights are back," he points at the two men who are now trying to escape from the grasp of the guards. "Take them away!"
His feet kicking in the air as the guards drag him and his younger brother over the ground. His eyes meet hers one last time as he sees the King pull her back on her feet. "Let me go," her fists are slamming against her uncles chest now, but she isn't strong enough. "Let me go!"
"Never," Hardman scoffs pushing her in the arms of the man that was standing right beside her all along, "you're his now." She swallows looking up at the two blue eyes of the at least twenty year older man staring down at her. "No," she exclaims once more, "never. I won't accept this," her head tilting to the right again as the two man force her to walk to a back room. Her uncle signalling the guards to play some music again as if nothing happened.
The duchess stares down at the two young men at her feet. Covered in mud as the guards threw them to the ground. "What on earth were you two doing here?" she orders, towing the youngest one on his feet as she glares Harvey in his eyes. "We.." he mumbles, his hands trying remove some of the dirt from his suit, "I … I wanted to see –"
"That she is special?" the duchess scoffs with a hint of disbelief in her voice. That the man who went against every rule laid down for him since the beginning of his existence, had once again risked everything to do as he pleased. Ironically by this time doing as was planned all along.
"She is," he mumbles swallowing in the 'not' as the woman slaps him on his arm. "Get in the carriage," she signals, feeling time's running out on them. She knows this place all too well and neither of them is supposed to be here. She the least.
She hears the music starting to play in the background, becoming louder and louder until she's undeniably sure her screaming will under no circumstances reach over it. She fights the tears as her uncles nails dig into her skin.
"My father would have never approved of this," she pulls her arm back in one hasty movement, feeling her skin bruise by a last endeavour of him to increase his hold on her arm. She seizes onto her gown, distancing herself from the two other men in the room.
"Your father died!" Hardman voice bursts through the room, as he throws his arms in the air. A malicious laugh escaping him as he shakes his head, before his gaze lands on the redhead again. "Leaving the care for his pathetic spawn to me," emphasizing the last word as he points at himself.
"I won't," Donna shakes her head, "I won't do it," she cries out loud now. "I.. I want what my parents had. I want to be loved," she shoves her arms down, her voice cracking under the reminiscence of her parents.
"I don't care what you want," Hardman carries on, signalling the Lord to follow him as he corners the princess against the wall. "You live in my Kingdom, where I am King and my word is law. You shall obey and you shall vow to wed Lord Wykeham as he vowed to wed thee."
Her jaw clenches, her teeth gnashing against each other as she shakes her head. She knows the words she should say, 'I will take thee to wed.' She daydreamt about saying them for ages, but never under these conditions.
"Now," Daniel exclaims taking one final step towards her, her back now faintly sliding down the partition as she looks up to her uncle. Her eyes searching for help in any form, even the two blue eyes of the Lord she's supposed to wed, but he doesn't speak at all. Maybe he's a pawn in her uncles play just as much as she is.
"I will never," she pushes her husband to be away as she runs away once again, this time successfully reaching the door before either of them can stop her anew. Her feet carrying her through the dark hallways she runs in the direction of the stair case. Her pace increases as she hears her uncle's heavy footsteps resonance on the marble tiles.
"Have it your way," Daniel declares as his arms fall around the post at the bottom of the staircase. His head angling, his eyes search for his youthful niece. "The wedding will take place in a fortnight."
His head leans against the glass window, trying to stop his body form wiggling with every ditch the carriage crosses. His fingers still playing with the silver chain of the pendant in his hand. Letting out a sigh, he lifts his hand letting the pendant slip out of his grip, making the object sway from left to right. "Where did you get that?" the duchess eyes are drawn to the object instantly. Her words waking the prince from his thoughts. "I'm sorry?" he frowns, but he doesn't have to ask further as the duchess takes the necklace in her hands.
"Is it –"
"Hers?" he nods letting the object go as he studies the woman's face. The way she holds the pendant in both hands, her eyes watery as she turns it over. The way the duchess fingers trace the engraving before she undoes the clasp revealing two small portraits. "Donna," she gasps, her eyes closing as she lets her head hang down.
"You've heard of her?"
She climbs the stairs, her dress flowing around her as she runs through the manor. Her hairdo giving in, her auburn manes covering her tearstained face she reaches her chambers. Her back sliding down the door as she finally feels safe again.
Away from the Lord she'd never seen before, away from her uncle. Away from the words her uncle ordered, away from the drama. Away from everything this day wasn't supposed to be like. Instead of dreaming about the young man who's identity is still a mystery, picturing herself dancing with him. Calling herself by his name, her arms cling around her knees, her forehead resting on her arms as the tears start flowing freely now.
Things weren't supposed to be this way.
After breakfast she retreats herself to her side of the manor. Trying to stay clear from her uncle, now more than ever. As long as she doesn't have to face either men she can still pretend it was all a bad dream. That it isn't true.
She crosses the landing of the main staircase as she overhears two voices in the distance, she kneels down. Her legs on the floor, her head resting against the tuff stone railing. Scanning the floor below her through the small openings, in search for the persons belonging to the voices she heard.
"His Majesty will travel to go hunting this afternoon."
"And his guest?"
"Lord Wykeham will accompany him."
She swallows, her eyes closed as she repeats the words in her head. "His Majesty will travel go hunting this afternoon." She can't even focus on the rest of the conversation as she waits for the staff to leave, her feet carrying her to the art gallery as her mind goes on overdrive. Counting her options.
The gallery is bright at this time of day. White rays of light entering the room through the floor high windows, the portraits on the wall slightly altered by the reflection of the colour stained glass. Her eyes scanning the wall until she faces that painting again. She always faces the same canvas.
The one portraying her parents.
"What can I do?" the words nearly inaudible. Knowing no one will answer nor be able to hear her, she asks her mother for guidance. Swallowing she lets her head fall down, a loose strand of hair falling over her shoulder. The second she pushes it away, those words her mother said to her coming to mind again.
"Like I said, I want you to marry because you've fallen in love. Not because that's what the custom is. The only way I'll let your father declare that our little princess is going to rule the Specter House is because you've fallen desperately in love with one of their heirs."
"Thank you," she whispers opening her eyes again as she nods at the portrait, her hands lifting her gown as she runs back to her room. She finally knows what to do.
Where to go.
Pulling the hood of her dark blue cape over her head she looks over her shoulder one last time to the fort she's spend her entire life. Running past the stables she considers it best to leave her horse behind, disappearing without a trace of evidence showing she did. She crosses the bridge, deciding to run over the green lands instead of the roads. Heading east as she tries to picture the map with the Kingdom from her late father's study.
She crosses a river an hour in her journey. Taking a rest on the middle of the bridge she remembers her father telling her about a expedition he once made. That if he stopped on the middle of this bridge on the East he'd see the Kingdom of his acquaintance and on the West his home.
He'd see her.
The sun slightly blinding her from the side she notices the tower in the distance. The tower next to her chambers. "On the east the Kingdom of our acquaintance." She turns around, walking to the other balustrade of the bridge, her gaze follows a branch she accidentally kicked in the river, drifting away with the strong steam.
When the object is out of her sight her gaze lifts to the horizon, her lips curling up as she sees the tower of a chapel rise above a town wall. Her hands pushing her back from the balustrade she continues her journey. The wind blowing the hood from her head, her auburn locks escape and the wind plays with them just like her mother used to do.
She sees it as a sign of doing the right thing, her pace only increasing as every fibre in her being tells her this is what she should be doing. The hilly green lands are replaced by low bushes and finally trees, she shivers as the trees now prevent the sun from keeping her warm. The noises of the animals anything but pleasant, but she doesn't get scared easily.
Her hands pull the cape around her with chicken skin covered arms, as her head looks from left to right. She doesn't like to admit it, but she got lost somewhere in the middle of the woods. Determining where to go next, she sits down against a tree. Maybe this was the best moment to take a break, to let her feet rest.
Her eyes flicker open as she hears a strange sound near her ear. She lifts her left hand to her cheek, a bit of wet slime covering her finger tips she's anxious to open her eyes, seeing what the source of this was, but a bark near her ear makes her wake up completely. "Ooh, god," she mumbles jumping up, her back against the oak tree as the spaniel jumps up against her, barking once more.
The dog's licking her hand now, circling around her barking a few more times before it returns at her feet. "Hello," she whispers kneeling back down, her hand running over the dog's back, "you're not here to harm me, are you?"
"Channing," she hears the voice of a man coming from a distance, the dog at her feet barking once more before it runs off. "Wait," she whispers turning in the same direction, the rest of her sentence being left unspoken as the dog runs back to her, barking again to signal it's owner.
Her hands run over the spaniel's back until the hooves of a white horse come in her sight. Her gaze slowly lifts as she gets back on her feet, tracing the legs of the stallion she now notices the man on it. She tilts her head a bit more, swallowing as her eyes meet two dark brown eyes staring at her.
It are the same dark brown eyes she had seen only a day ago, but these belong to a much older man, with longer and slightly grey hair. She bows down briefly, nodding her head at the what she assumes to be nobleman as he gets of his horse.
His feet hit the ground and he studies the young woman in front of him. A small signal with his hand indicating she can get back up on her feet, he extends his hand, moving the hood from her frame. Revealing the vibrant curls of the young lady, his lips curl up. "Your Royal Highness," his right hand covers hers, "we meet at last."
She's taken a back for a second, a small frown on her face that quickly turns into a smile. "You know who I am?" she asks nervously. "Of course," the man smiles, "King Gordon Specter," he squeezes her hand before he lets go, "I was a acquaintance of your father's."
"You were?" she swallows, relieved to hear the man's words and to have found whom she was looking for. The man nods, letting his hand run over the back of his horse. "Tell me dear, where were you headed?"
"Uhm," she frowns a little, this meeting taking her off guard. She tries to remember what her actual plan was, only to come to the conclusion she didn't have a plan. She had no idea what to do about the situation she was in. "I.. I was looking for you, your Majesty. My mother.. uhm," she looks down, "she told me… I need … I need help," her eyes meeting the ones of the old man once more.
"Alright," Gordon smiled signalling her to take place on his horse, "let's get you to Williamstown first, shall we."
He lets his head fall back on his pillow, letting out a deep breath as his eyes close for a second. Her smile, her sparkling eyes and her vibrant red hair the first thing he sees. Her pendant still in his hand, he unlocks it. Now looking at the same characteristics but in a younger version. A portrait of what he assumes to be her parents on the right, he thinks back to the words of the duchess.
"Her parents died in an accident six years ago. At least that's what the commonly told story is," the duchess looks down, her fingers moving over the images. "I never believed that to be the truth, maybe that's why the present King banned me."
"Banned you?" the young prince looks at the woman next to him, her posture clearly giving away she knew this girl, this family very well. She nods, fighting the tears in her eyes. "Correct, being the Queens Lady of Bedchamber I probably knew too much."
Harvey swallows, looking up from the portrait and back to the woman next to him he wonders if she's telling him the truth, but so far he's got no reason to suspect otherwise. "Such as?" he inquires.
"Their carriage, the one that supposedly ran off the cliff, never left the manor that day," she swallows, closing the pendant as she looks ahead again. "All I know is that one second they were still there and the next they weren't."
Harvey closes the pendant again, his mind still drifting off to theories as to what happened. The story the duchess told him intrigues him, but not as much as the woman part of that story did. His fingers trace the engraved letters on the back.
D.R.P.
His lips curling up as he realizes how both their middle names start with an R, but he isn't supposed to think about her like this. He made it clear earlier that year he didn't want what their fathers had planned for him, he never wanted that. An arranged marriage, imagine his relief when his father finally told him that plan had been off for the last six years.
But now, now he wasn't so sure. If maybe, maybe he had just seen her earlier, he shakes his head, pushing away the thoughts as he tells himself it didn't matter. That plan had been cancelled all those years ago and now, now she was betrothed to someone else.
Her head tilted she looks up to the wall. Staring at the candle lit decorations, her hands move down over the bodice of her new dress. The one the friendly King had given her when she made it to this house. It's different from everything she's ever worn before, but beautiful non the less.
A vibrant shade of blue, with golden details. The same colours she recognized from the family weapon, as well as the S-shaped embroideries along her neckline. Closing her eyes, her mind drifts off once more to those words her mother had said and she can't help but wonder if this is what it would feel like. If being dressed like this would have been her future as a Mrs. Specter.
Swallowing she opens her eyes again, she knows all too well she won't get to call herself that.
He stares at his still empty plate, his mind drifting off yet again. The conversation his father and younger brother are heaving anything but interesting. His eyes scan the table and he frowns at the fourth seated place across the table from him. They haven't had a dinner for four in a very long time, not since his mother left.
Got banned.
He doesn't care what the official term is, all he knows is that he hasn't seen her for almost six years. Six years, his eyes close again as he recalls the words of the duchess, but surely that must have been a coincidence.
"Harvey," his father's voice wakes him up from his thoughts, he notices how the other two men in the room are standing. A breeze of cold air flows through the dining room hall, his head turns and he now also notices how the door was opened.
The young redhead he had met the previous day standing in the opening.
His mouth drops a little, his feet pushing his chair backwards in response and he gets on his feet, just like his brother and father. He swallows, nodding in sync with the other men as the lady walks in their direction. His eyes meeting hers when he looks up again, a small smile on her lips representing she remembers him.
"Welcome," King Gordon signals the chair at the fourth place and she smiles thanking the man who came to her rescue. The men wait for the servant to help her sit down, before they return to their own seating. Harvey swallows once more, almost letting himself fall back in his chair as his eyes are still directed on her.
"Father," he speaks, his gaze breaking hers as he looks to the left, "you didn't tell us we have a guest amongst us." His words making Gordon laugh, "well, Harvey, the young lady needs our help," Harvey's eyes flicker to the redhead again. The events of the day before not forgotten, he notices how she looks down. "But let's keep that for tomorrow and enjoy our dinner now."
Harvey nods at his father, his hand reaching for the bread he picks up the basket, offering her a slice. "Thank you," she whispers, her hand shaking a bit as she looks up to him from under her eyelashes. He places the basket back on the table, his gaze lowering as his lips curl up into his signature smirk.
Looks are stolen and drinks are shared. The memories of the dance from the night before hanging in the air, a secret only the two of them really know about, yet neither of them acknowledging it with words.
His hand floats over the railing of the landing as he roams over the gallery and into the candle lit hallways of his home. His steps are soft, it's late at night, he's not entirely sure why he ended up in this part of the fortress, but something (or someone) guided him here.
His hand clenches around the pendant again. Hers. The one she'd given him the day before, the reason remaining unknown to him, but somehow it doesn't surprise him that they met again. As if she knew they would lay eyes on one another more than once, she'd handed him a piece of jewellery.
His task to return the object now.
She paces through the chamber assigned to her. It's beautiful, the bed comfortable, but too strange to fall asleep. If she were able to sleep at all, that is. Her mind too preoccupied with processing the events from the past forty eight hours, occasionally drifting off to the events yet to come.
Her hand falls around the handle of her door, in need for some fresh air she opens it and twirls out of the room. The door falling shut behind her, she faces the dark hallway. Noticing the flickering candle lighting on her right hand side, she tip toes to the corner.
A small scream escaping her lips as she runs into someone unexpectedly. Her body being pressed against the cold stone wall in the collision, the male's hand falls flat against the wall next to her head. A index finger pressing against her lips stopping her from letting out any other sound.
She swallows as she slowly lifts her eyelids, her head angles backward making her eyes lock with the two dark brown ones again. Her heartbeat starts to increase as neither of them move, his finger still on the same place. His breath warm against her lips, her chest moves up and down with every breath they share.
"I'm sorry," Harvey whispers, getting lost in her eyes as he pulls back his hand, his movement causing a gasp to escape from her lips as both of them are drawn closer to the other. His forehead briefly leaning against hers, his eyes close. "You're betrothed," his voice calm.
"I…" she pauses looking down herself, "am."
The words are barely pronounced as he steps back, distancing himself from her. With a loud sigh he turns around, his hands balling into fists as he can still feel the warmth of her lips on his skin. His right feet moves forward, ready to walk away, but her hand on his arm making him stop in his tracks.
"Donna," her name formed in a sigh. He doesn't turn around, facing her makes him lose his ability to think clearly. Facing her could complicate things even more, and he can't give in, he shouldn't give in. She isn't his, anything but.
His head is still hanging low, but he turns his head slightly. Observing her grip on his arm and he just hopes she doesn't notice the goose bumps she caused.
Her eyes directed on the back of his head, she observes his movement. Following his gaze she pulls her hand back slowly. "I didn't know," hoping her words can form an apology and explanation in one. "I promise," she adds and he swallows as he notices a sign of desperation in her voice, "I didn't know. My uncle, he –" she pauses as he slowly turns on his feet, facing her again.
"Please," she whispers, "help me."