Hey guys here is another update! Enjoy!
King Dwight stood tall, his piercing blue eyes fixed on his eldest son with a mixture of disappointment and cold authority. He knew his son was hurting; he wasn't immune to the sadness of his children, but this was needed for the Kingdom's good. It's what he told Stevie when he walked in on him and the bombshell he was with, and it's what he will tell Sam.
Was he surprised his son found and fell for such a strong, gorgeous woman? No. Just the few minutes he spent with the women, he understood why they loved them women. But their Kingdom had rules, and as the Crowned Princes, they had to set examples.
Sam stood at the door, leaning against it heartbreaking. He'd run after her, but she just got in her car and drove off. His fists clenched at his sides as if he could physically hold back the torrent of emotions raging within him. Behind Dwight, Noah Puckerman lounged against the wall, his smirk doing little to mask the chaos he had recently caused.
"Forget the girl," Dwight said, his voice sharp and unyielding. "Your bride-to-be Quinn is just as beautiful and more agreeable. Besides, we have far more important matters to address."
Sam's jaw tightened as he turned his gaze from the door to his father. "She isn't just some girl," he said, his voice low but laced with fury. "She's the woman I am in love with, Father. I want to be with her. And if she will have me, I am giving up the crown."
Puck let out a derisive chuckle, crossing his arms. "Love? She's like every other easy lay you've had, Evans. Get over her."
That was it. Sam surged forward, his anger boiling over, but Dwight's hand shot out, gripping his arm and stopping him in his tracks.
"Enough, that is the last time you will speak about giving up your crown." Dwight barked, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Both of you. Sit."
Sam reluctantly obeyed, his body vibrating with frustration as he dropped into a chair. Puck followed suit, settling into the seat with a smug grin that made Sam's stomach churn. Man, he wanted to pound his face.
Dwight remained standing, his presence looming over the room like a storm cloud. "If you abacate the thrown, that is the end of the Evans line, as Stevie has told me the same thing today, that he wants to give it up for love."
Sam looked at his father, surprised. "If we could bring them-"
"It can't happen, Samuel. I told you, as King, you have rules to follow. Traditions to uphold. So you quitting is just not going to happen."
Sam sat back, certain his father was bluffing, but in truth, he couldn't ruin their family, not for love, when his father chose the Kingdom as well.
Dwight, seeing he got through to his son, stepped forward. "Jesse St. James has officially withdrawn his support from the crown," he began, his voice even but heavy.
Sam's brow furrowed. "And that's supposed to surprise me? He's been looking for an excuse for years."
Dwight nodded curtly. "Perhaps. But his departure isn't going to cause as much damage as we feared. His influence has been waning, and frankly, we don't need him anymore."
Sam tilted his head, wary. "What are you planning?"
Dwight's lips curved into a cold smile. "With St. James gone, that leaves an opening for an Ally; we'll use what happened to turn this in our favor. St. James may have pulled out, but Puck's scandal with his wife gives us leverage with other Kingdoms. We can demand additional funds and troops from your reserves to make up the difference. In return, they have our favor."
Sam's stomach turned. He shook his head firmly. "No. That's not happening."
Dwight's expression darkened. "Don't be foolish, Samuel. We're at a critical juncture. Sacrifices must be made for the good of the Kingdom."
"I won't sacrifice my integrity or my people's resources because Puck couldn't keep it in his pants," Sam shot back, his voice rising.
Before Dwight could respond, Sam's phone buzzed on the table. He snatched it up, grateful for the distraction, and saw a message from Blaine.
BA: How are you doing?
SE: Father has made himself known.
BA: And Mercedes?
SE: Gone. Told her the truth and she left.
BA: Well, let me tell you some good news: the Westons and the Washingtons want to work with us now that St. James is out of the picture. They're willing to offer better terms than we ever got from him.
"Am I interrupting your me time, Samuel?"
Sam couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips. He set the phone down and looked back at his father. "No, but that was Blaine. We don't need St. James. It was just confirmed that the Westons and the Washingtons are on board. We're in a stronger position now than we were before."
Puck laughed, leaning back in his chair. "See? Told you I'd make things better."
Sam glared at him, his fists clenching once more. "Man, shut up, you didn't make anything better. You jeopardized our reputation and more just because you couldn't keep it in your pants. It's pure luck that it didn't backfire."
Dwight raised a hand, silencing them both. "Enough. What matters is that we adapt. If the Westons and the Washingtons are willing to step in, we'll move forward. But this is far from over, Samuel. You'd better get your priorities in order. This is what it takes to rule."
Sam met his father's gaze, unflinching. "My priorities are clear. I'll do what's right for Cordova. But I won't become someone I can't respect in the process."
"And the women?"
Sam frowned. "I don't know. I love her."
"What about me? I have my job, right?" Puck asked, smiling.
"Hell no," Sam said.
"My son has spoken. I'll meet you at the airport; you can return with me." Dwight said. "Samuel, you are not to see that woman again; we will connect when you return home next week."
Sam's mouth opened but then fell shut.
The tension in the room was palpable as father and son stared each other down. Finally, Dwight turned and walked toward the door. "We'll discuss this further later. For now, focus on securing these new alliances."
As the door closed behind Dwight, Sam leaned back in his chair, his exhaustion catching up with him. He glanced at Puck, who was still grinning smugly.
"Get the fuck out of my house. Now!" Sam muttered, his tone ice-cold.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going," Puck said, waving him off. "You'll thank me one day, Evans." He said, opening the door and leaving.
Sam frowned, staring at the door, his eyes closed as he wondered just what the hell he was going to do.
The low hum of conversation filled the bar as Mercedes wiped down the bartop, her thoughts far away. The usual clinking of glasses and bursts of laughter provided a strange comfort, but her mind was elsewhere tonight.
The sound of the door opening brought her back to the present. She glanced up, and her brow furrowed. Standing in the doorway was a man who looked like he belonged anywhere but the local bar. He was tall, imposing, and unmistakably out of place in his tailored three-piece suit.
Mercedes recognized him instantly. King Dwight Evans.
Her lips curled into a smirk as she continued cleaning the counter. When he approached, she raised an eyebrow. "To what do I owe the displeasure, Your Highness?"
Dwight's lips twitched, his tone as sharp as ever. "That's cute."
Without waiting for an invitation, he took a seat at the bar. Before Mercedes could say anything, Santana appeared, eyeing Dwight curiously.
"I got this," Mercedes said, motioning for her to step back.
Santana shrugged, muttering something about rich people's drama as she walked away.
Mercedes folded her arms, leaning slightly on the counter. "So, what is it you want, Your Highness? And make it quick—I've got real customers to serve."
Dwight's eyes narrowed, but his voice remained calm. "I want you to stay away from my son."
Mercedes rolled her eyes and resumed wiping the counter. "You came all the way here to tell me that? Shouldn't you be busy ruling a kingdom or something?"
"Your defiance is adorable, Ms. Jones," Dwight said, his tone almost amused. "But you and I both know Sam doesn't need distractions."
"What he doesn't need is people telling him what he needs; he is his own man, is he not?" Mercedes retorted, meeting Dwight's gaze.
Dwight tilted his head. "Why are you angry with Sam? From what I understand, it was just a fling."
Mercedes froze for a moment, then slowly set down the cloth. "Is that what Sam told you?"
"No," Dwight replied, folding his hands on the bar. "That's what Noah told me." He said studying her.
A laugh escaped Mercedes, sharp and bitter. "Of course he did. Noah Puckerman couldn't tell the truth if his life depended on it. That man's a pig. I wouldn't let him touch me with a ten-foot pole."
Dwight raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"And no," Mercedes continued, her voice softening. "Sam wasn't just a fling. Sure, it started as something fun, but the more I got to know him…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "The more I fell for him. Not that it matters. He made it clear we're not going to be anything."
For a moment, Dwight said nothing. Then he nodded, his expression unreadable. "Good. Sam is destined for greatness. He needs someone who can follow. And it's clear you don't follow any man."
Mercedes smirked, leaning forward slightly. "Why follow when you were born to lead?"
Dwight's lips twitched in what might have been the shadow of a smile. "Touché. It seems my sons have both picked women with very strong wills. It's a shame you aren't a part of the court."
"Both of them?" Mercedes asked before nodding. "Ah, I understand. You paid Stevie and Jane a visit as well."
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a check, and placed it on the counter.
Mercedes stared at it, then back at him. "What's this?"
"Take it," Dwight said simply. "You and the girl Stevie was seeing seem like great women. You're just not what my sons need."
Mercedes pushed the check back toward him. "I don't need your money. And Jane doesn't either."
Dwight shook his head. "Pride is good at times, but it's not everything. Don't turn away blessings out of anger and pride."
With that, he tapped the counter twice, offered her a small nod, and walked out the door.
Mercedes sighed, her shoulders slumping. She barely had time to process what had just happened before the door opened again. This time, it was Jane.
The younger woman looked pale, her eyes rimmed with red as she plopped down onto a stool.
"Hey," Mercedes said gently. "You okay?"
Jane shook her head, her voice trembling. "Stevie…he…I can't believe they lied to us… it's over."
Mercedes bit her lip, nodding slowly. "Welcome to the club. Sam and I are over as well."
Jane's eyes drifted to the check on the counter.
"What's that?"
"Oh, this? This is a gift from King Dwight." She said, wiping a stray tear from her eye.
Jane picked it up, reading it as her brows shot up. "A million dollars?!"
Mercedes sighed, taking the check back. "We just got bought off."