Chapter Thirteen:

Villains and Vengeance

Whitehall Palace, London

Blair sat in the corner of the royal library, huddled between bookshelves and the balcony railing. She had been there all morning. It was one of the few places she could escape to lately. As the King's wedding to Catherine neared Thomas seemed to move all the more closer to her. The imbecile was everywhere she turned, pleading for her like some sort of pathetic lost puppy. It took all she had not to steal a horse and ride for the hills, forgetting everything and everyone in the process. Of course, this thought was soon forgotten and the idea abandoned. She couldn't run away now for it would be not only her future mother-in-law and queen of England wanting to punish her, but England's sole prince as well. Chuck didn't do well with deception and he had made it quite clear she was no exception in the matter. She had gone into this game willingly and would see it through if she wished to see her head remain atop her shoulders. Her eyes closed and she shuddered at the instant image that followed. There had been so much blood—

"You are quite the interesting creature, Lady Blair."

She became alert immediately, looking below at the source of the interruption. Immediately her body tensed up and she closed her book, shoving it between the shelves and her bodice. Then she collected herself and prepared for response.

"Sir Draven," she mused coolly, nodding her head in his direction. Her eyebrows rose in question. "Have you not been taught the proper way of introducing one's presence to a Lady of the Court?"

He smirked, "And whose court may that be, yours or theirs?"

She shook her head, shrugging her shoulders. "I had no particular court in mind. All follow similar rules of etiquette, yours included I am sure."

Draven laughed, his body and voice seeming to warm with the notion. It was a pleasant sound, almost comforting in fact. She watched as he climbed the ladder up to her, hanging his feet off the edge of the balcony.

"I have no court, my Lady. Have you heard nothing of me since our first meeting? Surely my cousin had something to say about his bastard nephew." The insulting title seemed only to amuse him when it came from his own tongue.

Blair sat forward some, her posture straightening at the mention of Chuck. She knew he would not care for her current company. He had told her several times he didn't like her conversing with other men and that was merely in his presence. If he caught her alone with Draven—she shuddered at the thought, but did her best to calm herself. Chuck had gone hunting for the day. He would not be back until nightfall. No one would have to know of this meeting, not even her own chambermaids.

She took a deep breath and shook her head. "I do not recall his mentioning of you, not that I saw the Prince much after the games. I returned to my own chambers for sleeping, as a Lady would, Sir."

He laughed, "Yes, I am sure." There was evident sarcasm in his voice.

Her eyes narrowed. "I do not hope you are moving to question my innocence—"

"I move to do nothing no one else already has," Draven returned, turning to look at her. He shook his head. "Do you know I have only been at Court a few days yet have heard enough whispers about you to tell a week full of stories?"

"You have asked members of the court about me?" Blair asked. She inwardly cowered some, though her outward appearance gave no clue to it. His words were taken with warning, but she refused to let him know that—not yet at least.

"No, not at first. I was asking of the Prince when I saw a pattern, one always leading to mentions of his French whore." He chuckled, "Do know that I hold nothing against you for it though."

"I shall not sit here and be insulted," Blair spat, starting to get up.

He rolled his eyes, making no move to let her by. "Do sit back down, Lady Blair. I do not mean to insult you, but only to make conversation."

"Well I do not care for this conversation," she retorted. She slumped back into her seat, almost wishing for an interruption now. She wasn't quite sure what Draven wanted or meant by his words, but it was evident they weren't merely casual conversation.

"Perhaps you should care about it, my Lady." He sighed, kinking his head some in thought. "You know rumors, whether true or not, eventually reach all ears—even ears of those in high position."

"Are you threatening me?" Blair asked, her eyes widening some. She began to search her head for proof that could be presented to anyone of high rank, the King, or worse—the future queen. The woman would want her head. Would Chuck put a stop to it? He couldn't if the King ordered it.

"Someone would like me to. I do imagine someone would thrive with this information, knowing the damage it could do to someone of more importance than you." He spoke his words with a strange look in his eyes. It was a cold and distance sort of stare he sported with quiet, strange sounding speech.

"Who is this someone who would like to hurt me?" Blair asked carefully, bringing her knees to her chest. She moved to protect herself, and hold herself together physically and emotionally. Now was the time to stay strong, fierce. She would not allow her voice to break or stutter.

Draven turned his head slowly, staring her straight on. "You are a mere pawn in their game. You do see this, do you not?"

Had he gone mad? She shook her head. "I do not understand—"

"I do not believe that. You are a smart woman, Lady Blair. However, you are also of the dumbest. By playing with the prince, you play with fire. There are those who would like to hurt him, but even more who would like to hurt you in the process," he explained, lowering his voice.

Her eyes flickered away from his. "No one will hurt me. I know what I am doing." She began to repeat this in her head, over and over again. Perhaps if she did it enough, she could start to believe it as she did before Draven changed it to doubt.

"I am afraid you do not. Listen to me, Lady Blair—please," he pleaded.

She turned to him, glaring with the coldest of stares. "Why should I? What are you to me, my lover's bastard cousin?" It felt weird calling Chuck her lover, but she saw no other word fit. Plus, she was only kidding herself to try and still play it off to Draven. He knew what was going on between her and the Prince, and apparently he wasn't the only one either.

"You should listen to me because I fear if you do not you shall share the same fate as your once beloved father did. Or have you forgotten him?"

"How dare you!" Blair gasped. She stood up in haste, grabbing onto the balcony. "You have no right to speak of my father. You are nothing, but a—a—"

"A person who does not wish to see your blood spilled as his was. I learned much about you when asking around, Lady Blair. I know what happened to him here, years ago. I only wonder why you would ever return to such a place, take a lover who has your own father's blood on his hands." He shook his head, his voice sounding with disgust on the matter.

"Chuck did not kill my father. He was too young to give such an order. But I assure you he who shares his blood and gave the order will suffer at the hands of my revenge one day." Blair's voice shook with emotion as he spoke and it felt as if her feet would give out from under her. It was hard to talk about her father, speak about him like this. She wanted nothing more than to run to her pillow, crying and screaming like a mad woman in grief.

"You have the plan of a child," Draven scoffed. He looked at her, his eyes seemingly holding a look of pity. "The blood you wish to spill is Royal blood, untouchable blood. And I guarantee your beloved Chuck would see your head from your neck before he saw the spilling of any of it. If you believe anything else, then your too big a fool for even god to give mercy for." He then got up from his seat and hopped down to the floor, starting cross the room.

Blair climbed down the ladder quickly, calling after him. "You would see to those who would hurt me then?" Her voice broke some finally. She couldn't help it.

Draven froze, his back stiffening some. Slowly, he turned around. "No. I see to no one, but myself. If you are smart though, you shall soon do the same."

"H—how?" Blair asked. She would not allow herself to be scared off, but she was not one to rule out all options. She wasn't so pious as to not heed all warnings given to her.

"Do as I will do, when this wedding is over. I shall be gone, a mere memory lost forever to every member at court, including my so-called royal family. It does not matter where you are to go, but only that you are to be gone before they can find you. It is the only way to ensure your safety, but even a risk at that." He was speaking in a mere whisper now, knowing full well the content of their conversation could cost him his own head.

Blair's eyes fell from his. Perhaps she should run—but she couldn't. Chuck would—why was she thinking of him? She needed to think of herself. She sighed, "What if I stayed, married Thomas? I could convince him to take me away from here—"

"And you think the Prince would let you go?" He took a few steps towards her, shaking his head. "He would want you dead for the betrayal before you even stepped onto the aisle."

Blair swallowed a large lump in her throat. She didn't like to imagine Chuck wanting her dead. She shifted on her feet uncomfortably. "Perhaps one day he will grow bored of me, want another. It would not matter then." Her own words stung at her, and she felt a sharp pain in her chest.

"Even if that were true he would not allow another to have you, Blair. Please, get out of the game while you still can. Run. Just run," he told her. His eyes pleaded with hers.

His words frustrated her because she knew she couldn't even begin to take them into consideration. Running wasn't an option, not for her at least. Part of her wanted to flee, but she just couldn't. She told herself that she entered everything that she did knowing the dangers ahead of time. She had considered what could happen, what very well might happen, but had proceeded with her plans and would continue to do so. There was no turning back now. She would win the game or be destroyed by it, even if that meant by death.

She shook her head sadly, her eyes falling from his. "Why is it you care what becomes of me, Sir Draven? We do not know one another."

"No, but I know what you feel in your heart. I know how it feels to want the vengeance you seek, the power you've been denied. I also know trying to achieve it though will only bring you further tragedy," he revealed.

She wasn't entirely sure of what he meant, but decided not to press him further on the matter. Chuck could return soon and it was much more important their conversation cease before that happened than staying to pry for any more information. So she picked herself up and started past him, only stopping momentarily in the doorway. She did not look back at him, but voiced final words ever so carefully.

"I hope you find your vengeance one day as well, Sir Draven." With that, she was gone. And she left with no idea the enemy they shared, was an enemy of the same.

XOXOXOXOXO

Outskirts of London, England

Chuck squinted his eyes, trying to properly determine the target. He couldn't seem to hold the gun still though, his hands trembling something terribly. With a sigh of aggravation he let the gun fall to his lap, shaking his head. He began to curse under his breath as other shots fired and the small gathering of animals ran off in different directions.

"Is something the matter, your Highness?" William asked from beside him. He lowered his own, but freshly fired gun. "We have been out here since dawn and you've only reloaded once."

"I suppose I am not in the mood, William," Chuck retorted, sounding on the defense. He didn't want to be questioned in his current state of mind. Something was distracting him, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was.

"Would you like to go in then? I can round up the men," his friend offered.

Chuck shrugged his shoulders, throwing his gun down to a servant boy. He took hold of his horse's reigns and turned it round to the west. He shook his head. "Where is Nathaniel?" He hadn't seen his so-called best friend since they first started out that morning.

William's eyes scanned the fields around them, but he already knew the answer. He nodded forward. "He is over there, beyond the trees with some of the other men. It seems they brought more than a picnic with them." He tried to add humor to the imply, but could tell by Chuck's reaction it had not helped. The prince narrowed his eyes, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Must their cocks always be inside a woman? Even the best of whores are surely to tire when worked round the sun," Chuck murmured. He ignored the fact that had it been earlier that year he would have never said such a thing. It was likely he would have been right there with them, a woman on each side for comfort.

William smiled at the remark, finding his own secret amusement from it. "As I am sure you are well are of, your Highness—when one whore tires, there is always another to fill in for her."

Chuck laughed, turning to look at his friend. "I am aware, Sir William. However, I have often wondered if you are." His eyebrows piqued, as his head nodded to the stable boy beside William's horse.

"Your Highness finds enjoyment in the embarrassment of his friends, does he?" William moved to brush the comment off, looking away from Chuck. He began to fidget and shift uncomfortably in his seat.

Chuck sighed, reaching out to touch his shoulder. "Fear not, William. I will tell no one of my teasing. Just know only fools can be fooled." He motioned off to the trees, aiming the insult towards Nathaniel and the other clueless men.

William nodded, "Of course I was never to take your Highness as a fool." He then moved his horse forward and looked back at Chuck. "Let us be done with the subject though and on with another. Would your highness like to join his friends beyond the wood?"

Chuck moved his head to the side, watching as a girl danced from between the trees and then fell into the lap of a man. They were half naked and most likely had already been fucked once or twice. He shook his head. "A prince deserves more than spoiled goods on such a grand day, does he not?"

"A grand day?" William questioned. Surely, Chuck was not speaking of the ceremonies that had been leading up to his father's wedding. Everyone knew the Prince wasn't looking forward to it.

"Aye, a grand day. Just look around you, William. The flowers are springing up, every single one of them being thrust into a bloom." He breathed in the fresh air, closing his eyes. "A wise man would not be elsewhere."

"Are you not wise then, your Highness?" William gave him a knowing smirk, though Chuck did not immediately play into it.

He scoffed, "Do you move to insult your Prince?"

"We both know your Highness would gladly be elsewhere, in the arms of a particular woman. Only fools can be fooled." He stared at Chuck, but the Prince only stared off into the sun.

"And what of the other saying, that only fools fall in love with maidens they shouldn't?" Chuck asked quietly.

William frowned, looking around before lowering his voice to the very much private conversation. "Why does your Highness ask of such a thing? You are not in lo—"

"I am a Prince. I can ask of anything without reason, can I not?" Chuck retorted, immediately on the defense.

His friend bowed his head some. "Of course, your Highness. I did not mean to insult you with my questioning. I only wondered—"

"Enough with this, William. Let us return to Whitehall. Gather up the men and tell them to hurry for I rode on," he ordered. His horse started up, kicking its front feet in the air at the pull of the reigns.

"Rode on? Your Highness needs all protection he came with," William objected, looking from Chuck to the still distracted men. Only when turning back to the Prince he already saw him galloping off into the forest.

"Your Highness!" He screamed, but it was to no avail. There was no pulling Chuck from his intended path once he had started it.

XOXOXOXOXO

Whitehall Palace, London

Blair walked into the Grand Hall later that day, seeing the pristine members of the English court gathered round the throne. Only the throne was empty, neither the King nor Chuck having returned from their daily activities. She sighed, lifting her dress, and making her way around the room. She wanted someone to talk to, but honestly who was there? It wasn't like she had made many friends, but apparently quite a few enemies. She knew she wasn't liked immediately because of her homeland, but she wasn't exactly fond of the where the people had come from around her either. She never wanted to come to England. If given the choice she'd gladly be back in France, among friends and the beloved ways of the French court she so dearly missed. She sighed, pausing in the middle of the room with a bored look upon her face.

"Blair? Lady Blair Waldorf?"

Her eyes widened at the sound of a familiar voice. She spun around quickly, not believing the sight before her. "Eric? Eric is that you?" Her voice sounded joyously as she ran to him, throwing her arms round his neck.

He laughed, hugging her back. "So the rumors are true then, you are to be England's next Princess? I thought they'd all gone mad around here."

She pulled back, grinning from ear to ear. Then she shook her head. "Let's not talk about that now. I just can't believe it's you. I had heard your family left these parts. What are you doing here now?"

He glanced around, lowered his voice, and sighed. "I am not sure left would be the proper word to use, not that it matters now. We are only right outside of town though. Our family has been given quite the generous compensation." There was sarcasm in his voice.

Blair frowned. Eric was never condescending, not the Eric she knew at least. He had always been easygoing and far less dramatic than his sister. She wondered what had changed in him.

"Generous compensation?" Blair echoed. "What for? I heard you left town on account of your mother's health—"

"You have been misinformed then. My mother is alive and well, as is my sister. I suppose we shouldn't talk about it here though, too many watchful eyes," he murmured, glancing around nervously.

"Let us go somewhere else then. We are old friends after all, are we not?" she asked with a smile. Her hand held out to his.

He stared at it a few moments before wrapping his arm around hers. Then he led her properly from the room, but found it hard to ignore the many stares they received. "I did not think I would draw such attention," he noted.

She laughed, "I am afraid you were right to think so. From what I hear it is I they're staring at. Do not tell me you haven't heard the other rumors." They exited the Great Hall, moving into the castle's walled gardens.

"I do not hear much gossip in our part of the country nowadays, not that I miss it," he returned. Then he looked to her. "Why? What have you to tell me of the infamous Blair Waldorf now?"

She parted her lips to speak, but stopped herself. Eric was one of the few people whose ears had yet to be tainted by all Draven spoke of. In a way it was nice to know she still had a friend, if even a clueless one.

"Blair?" he asked.

She shook her head. "It is nothing of importance. Besides you are the one with stories to tell. What has become of my beloved Van der Woodsen's?" She tried to bring lightheartedness back to the conversation, but also pry for information at the same time. She hadn't seen Serena or her family in years, but they were more her friends than anyone she had met since she left France. The girls had been childhood best friends. They would see one another whenever their families would travel back and forth between England and France. It had been a much different time then, a way of life now foreign to her. Seeing Eric now though sure did make her miss it. She missed her summers with Serena, her childhood freedom, and being able to run up to her father at the end of each day. Her heart began to clench with sadness, a sharp pang in the pit of her stomach.

"Are you listening to me at all, Blair?"

Eric's voice brought her from her thoughts. She looked to him, wide eyed and confused. It seemed he had been explaining his story, but she hadn't been listening. She sighed, "I am sorry, Eric. My mind drifted from me."

He shrugged his shoulders. "It's alright. To be honest, I don't quite care for telling the story much anyways. Perhaps you could ask around?"

She rolled her eyes, scoffing a laugh. "Like that would get me the truth." Then she sat down, folding her hands across her lap. "But perhaps Serena could write to me about it? I would love to hear from her."

Eric took a seat beside her, shaking his head. "I am not sure that would be wise. Serena could get in trouble if the letter were to fall into certain hands."

She frowned, "Whose hands? Eric, what has happened?"

He sighed, "Well I suppose I have some time before nightfall still…"

XOXOXOXOXO

Whitehall Palace, London

Chuck rode towards the castle at full speed, seeing the back rims of it finally coming into view. As he advanced he noticed a few heads turn, looking him over with caution. It was strange to see the Prince of England without escort, but he didn't care. None of them would speak to him on the matter, for all were much too frightened to even slightly question his decisions. He smirked to himself, forgetting all that nonsense and focusing his thoughts on Blair. No doubt she would be up in her chambers, waiting on him eagerly like a good little maiden would. Blair was certainly a rebel of sorts in her own right, but not when it came to him. She surely knew by now not to cross matters where he was concerned. Thus, she would be there waiting for him when he finally returned. He kicked his horse once more, feeling the eagerness and aggravation in him about to explode.

"Your Highness!"

He winced, the loud sound of a piercing boom surely busting his eardrum. Suddenly, he heard his horse cry out. He was sent to the ground, tumbling forward. He landed on his side, the sharpest of pains ripping through his shoulder and a cheek burned by the scraping of soil and rock. His eyes closed tightly and he cried out in pain.

"Charles, be still! Charles!"

He opened his eyes to the familiar voice, rolling onto his back. The dimming evening sky came into his view, though his vision was still some blurred from the crash. Then he felt someone at his side and a hand upon his cheek. He turned his head, staring at the last person he'd expected to see.

"Father?" He sounded dumbfounded, staring up at a concerned looking Bart. His father ran his freehand over Chuck's chest, then looking from him.

"Call the doctor and search the grounds! His horse has been shot! I want the gunman caught and thrown in the bloody tower of London by full nightfall!" his father boomed, the fiercest of looks upon his face.

Shot? His horse had been shot—that meant someone was trying to shoot him. Someone was trying to assassinate him, but who? He turned his head to see a crowd of people now gathering around him, a stretcher, and then felt himself being lifted up onto it. Was he hurt? Had he been shot? His shoulder did hurt, but it didn't feel like a bullet—not that he knew what a bullet felt like.

"My—my shoulder." His words were uneven and his lips dry. He looked for his father and surprisingly found Bart hadn't left him yet.

Concerned blue eyes stared down at him, touching his forehead gently. "You landed on a rock, son. The skin is cut and bruised. I do not yet know if the bone is broken though so stay still. Do you hear me, Charles? Stay still." His voice was full of command. Even in such a hectic moment his father still spoke with the sound of a true leader and king.

Chuck barely nodded in response, turning his cheek, and closing his eyes. The pain was pretty bad. He hoped they had medicine for it when the doctor came. He also prayed it wasn't broken. What was the Prince of England to do with a broken shoulder? He bit his tongue hard, tasting blood. Whoever had come after him would pay. He would see to it, not that his father wouldn't, but Chuck wanted to look this man in the eyes when caught. He wanted to watch as his body was put through torture and then inevitable death. He would have his vengeance and the culprit would never hurt or try to hurt him again.

"Take him to his chambers. The doctor will see him there." He heard his father's voice again, barking commands at anyone near as the men carried him inside.

"Should I put the rest of the castle on high alert, your Majesty?"

Bart sighed, even his breath sounding worried and conflicted. "Yes. Make sure all retire to their chambers and lock up. Until this son of a bitch is caught there is no telling whom he may go after."

Chuck frowned, feeling dizzy as they set him down on his bed. The castle was going on high alert—that didn't happen often. Then again, no one tried to shoot at him, their bloody prince, that often either. Did this mean others were in danger too though? His father was here, so the King was safe. He didn't really care about the other lords or ladies or—his eyes opened and he practically sat up in bed, but was pushed down by several strong hands.

"I told you to stay still, Charles!" His father yelled, coming into view once more.

Chuck fought back against him though, nostrils flaring. He looked like a mad man and he certainly felt like one. He grabbed his father by the shirt, yanking him close. He spoke directly into his ear, allowing a private conversation between them.

"Blair! Bring me Blair, father! Bring me her now!" Chuck rasped. He then let go of him, falling down back onto the bed. Only he cried out the moment his shoulder hit the pillows. It still stung like hell.

His father stared back at him with frightened looking blue eyes. Then he cleared his throat turning to the nearest servant. "Daniel, will you see that the Lady Blair is safe and secured in her chambers?"

"Yes, your Maj—"

"No!" Chuck yelled. Everyone stopped, turning to look at him. He shook his head, glaring at his father. "Bring her to me. I want her here now."

Bart was still for a moment and then nodded his head, trying to brush the evident scene off. "Do as the Prince says. Find Lady Blair and bring her here. I and the Prince would like to make sure our future Princess is alright."

"Yes, your Majesty." Dan bowed his head and then hurried from the room, the door slamming shut behind him. Slowly everyone got back to work, the noise level in the room returning to normal—well normal for the hectic scene going on around him.

XOXOXOXOXO

A/N: I'm terribly sorry this update took so long, but if you're still reading I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know your thoughts in a review…