by Fawn Bailey
“That’s enough,” she told her, reaching back to squeeze my hand. “You’d better tell us what’s happened before you make a scene. What if the Queen finds out you’re running around screaming and insulting the other girls?”
“Of course, you’d stick up for her,” Freya smirked. “Your little best friend. I bet you helped her do it, you stupid–”
“That’s enough!”
I looked over Zara’s shoulder to see Fleur exit the room with her eyebrows furrowed and her hands on her hips. I’d only seen the pretty maid smiling and friendly, and it was quite the change to see her in a different light.
“What’s happened?” Asya asked, her voice shaking as Fleur turned to face her.
“My necklace is missing,” Freya snarled in response. “My diamond necklace that’s a family heirloom. It’s been stolen.”
“Is that true?” Camellia turned to face Fleur while the other two girls appeared behind us. “Is it really gone?”
“It appears to be,” Fleur admitted. “We’ve turned her room upside down and it’s nowhere to be seen. So, unless Freya is lying…”
“Lying?” Freya erupted. “Why would I lie about a priceless family heirloom? I will be in deep trouble if it isn’t recovered! But not as much as you all when my parents find out.”
“Threatening grown women with your parents is such a classy move,” Zara told her with a little snort, earning a look of contempt from the pale blonde beauty. “We can help you look for it, if you want.”
“No, I don’t.” Freya crossed her arms defensively in front of her body. “I don’t trust a single one of you. You’re the only ones with easy access to my room. Unless it was the help.”
She eyed Fleur suspiciously, making the maid blush.
“We’ll find the necklace,” Fleur finally said. “Even if we have to turn all the rooms upside down. The Queen shouldn’t be bothered with such frivolities.”
“What frivolities?”
I turned in the direction of the voice, following the other girls who were quick to curtsy. The Queen strolled down the hallway, head held high and a look of contempt thrown in my direction just to remind me she wasn’t a fan.
“Your Majesty,” Freya rushed toward her. “My necklace, a Bardland treasure, has been stolen.”
“Missing for now,” Fleur was quick to add. “Let’s get our facts straight for the Queen, Freya.”
The Queen glanced between her employee and the blonde girl, her mouth pursing.
“Well, this just won’t do,” she said in a low whisper. “We have to find the necklace, now. It’s time to search the girls’ rooms, Fleur. Start with Amber.”
“What?” I argued. “I had nothing to do with this!”
“Of course you would say that,” the Queen purred with barely hidden satisfaction. “Relax, Amber. Your room is only the first one to be searched. I’m going to look under every stone until that necklace is found. And besides, you have nothing to hide, right?”
I pursed my lips and she gave me a triumphant smile before barging past me, down the hallway and toward my room, the other girls quickly following. Zara and I exchanged worried glances before rushing after the gaggle of girls.
“I’m sorry about this, Miss Jonathan,” Fleur whispered to me before the nightmare began.
Joined by two other servants, she turned around every corner of my room.
They looked everywhere. In the pillowcases, every closet, every nook and cranny. My clothes were strewn about by the time they were done, and I felt hot tears of humiliation in my eyes when Fleur announced they hadn’t found a thing but would keep looking.
“I want Olivier,” I heard myself saying. “This isn’t fair. He should know what you’re doing.”
“Stupid girl,” the Queen hissed at me, standing before me.
Somehow, she still managed to look threatening even though she was shorter than me.
“Why would I involve my son in something as dumb as this? Besides, he’s running an errand. He doesn’t have time for your nonsense. Are you sure there’s nothing, Fleur?”
“No, Your Majesty,” the maid replied sheepishly.
“Very well,” the Queen sighed. “Move onto the next room. Zara Patel.”
Next to me, Zara stiffened, and the procession of girls moved a couple of doors down where the same rigorous search was done on Zara’s room. I held her hand throughout, feeling her humiliation just like I had my own a couple of minutes ago.
The Queen was evil. It was almost as if she got off on intimidating us, taking a special interest in making me suffer. I wanted to tell Olivier, but she was his mother, after all… Would he choose me over her so soon?
No. I need to play my cards right.
We watched as the search was done on Camellia’s room next before the attention shifted to Monica.
I prepared for another hour of misery and wishing the Queen would just let it go instead of indulging Freya, when there was a triumphant scream from within the room.
Freya exited with Fleur right behind her, holding a blindingly bright diamond necklace in her hands. When we saw her, Zara’s hand flew to her mouth and I gaped in open-mouthed shock.
“I knew there was a thief here,” Freya announced. “I just didn’t think it was you!”
She faced Monica who was staring at her in disbelief.
“You can’t be serious,” Monica managed to get out. “I’ve never seen that before in my life!”
She turned around to look at us for support, so I stood to the front and said, “She didn’t take it. Freya’s probably making all of this up to get one of us in trouble!”
“Shut up, Amber,” Freya snarled at me. “It was missing this morning. Why the hell would I make it up? You know how scared I was I’d never get it back?”
“Where was the necklace?” the Queen interrupted, her question meant for the maids.
“In her traveling case, Your Majesty,” one of the two responded, and Fleur nodded regretfully, like an afterthought. “It was hidden.”
The Queen stepped toward Monica, who curtsied nervously when she got nearer, her eyes downcast.
“Look at me, girl,” the Queen let out in a low voice, and we all watched Monica raise her eyes.
I half-expected the older woman to strike her, but the look of cool, measured anger she gave her was somehow worse.
“I don’t tolerate liars, and I certainly don’t tolerate thieves. Now tell me, did you take that necklace?”
“No, Your Majesty,” Monica managed, her bottom lip quivering in fear. “I would never steal from another girl. I have no need for it!”
It was obvious she was telling the truth, and a huge weight fell off my shoulders knowing the Queen would have no other choice but to pardon her.
“I see,” she finally said before turning her head to the side and summoning Fleur. “Please see that she’s sent away immediately. I want her gone by the time my son gets back.”
“What?!” Monica’s eyes widened as Fleur nodded, motioning for the two maids to remove Monica’s things. “You can’t be serious! I’m innocent!”
The Queen paid her no mind, walking away as the rest of us rushed after her, begging her to reconsider. She ignored us all, walking to the end of the hallway before turning to face us, ignoring Monica as if she wasn’t even there anymore.
“Let this be a lesson to you all,” she said darkly. “And remember… I’m still the one who rules this kingdom. So you’d do well not to anger me. Because now you can see what I’m capable of.”
Her eyes locked with mine and I stared, dumbfounded as she walked away.
Monica was inconsolable. Even Freya looked surprised as the maids gathered the Englishwoman’s things and she was told to say her goodbyes to the rest of us. I hugged her tightly, hardly able to believe what was going on before my eyes. And there was absolutely nothing I could do.
“I’ll tell Olivier what happened,” I promised Monica. “Maybe he can bring you back.”
“What’s t
he point?” Monica asked through tears. “We all know who he’ll pick in the end. No point in me outstaying my welcome.”
Her icy words cut through me, and I stepped back, wounded by her sharp tongue. Zara was there to hold my hand though, so at least I didn’t feel completely alone.
Monica was escorted out of our quarters by the two maids while Fleur stayed behind. Even she looked shaken by the sudden turn of events and wouldn’t meet our eyes as she quietly asked us to go back to our rooms.
None of us objected.
I think we were all too afraid.
It seemed like the Queen had eyes and ears everywhere.
One wrong move, and you were out.
“Amber.”
I turned to face Fleur.
She’d been pale during dinner, just like the rest of us. None of us were talkative, and the evening passed quietly and uneventfully. Not that I was hoping for more drama. We’d all had quite enough for one day.
“Yes?” I asked, rubbing my temples and stopping so she could catch up with me.
She discreetly slid an envelope to me and I hid it in the pleats of my dress when she winked at me. The corners of my lips tugged upward, and a sliver of excitement shone through the despair I’d felt all day.
I didn’t mention the envelope to Zara and spent the rest of my evening chatting with her until I finally fake-yawned and told her I was simply too tired to stay up. From her inquisitive look, I was almost certain she knew something, but she didn’t say a thing.
Once I was alone in my room, the door firmly closed behind me, I pulled out the envelope embossed with the royal herald. One of Olivier’s then.
A flush crept over my cheeks as I tore into the envelope. The message inside was simple and to the point.
The Prince’s chambers, tonight, midnight.
I shivered at the sight of it, knowing I wasn’t going to catch a wink of sleep now that I knew I’d be able to see Olivier. But I promised myself to keep my word about what I’d said to Monica – Olivier needed to know what had happened in his absence. What happened to Monica wasn’t fair.
The next few hours passed by excruciatingly slowly, and I spent a long time getting ready, making sure I looked perfect for him. I curled my hair in rich, voluminous bronze waves and put on a Monique Lhuillier crystal-embellished tulle dress I’d been saving. It was a sky-blue shade, and I knew it looked spectacular on me. For some reason, I hadn’t wanted Olivier to see me in it in front of the other girls. No, this was a dress for my lover’s eyes only.
My mind shifted to Bruno yet again, guiltily circling the subject of his cruel games again and again. What was he doing to me? Were his twisted ways just something he did to piss off Olivier, or did he care about me? Why do I even give a damn?
Refusing to answer that question, I swallowed thickly and got up, smoothing down the layers of tulle in my dress. I paired it with silver metallic sandals. I knew I’d be cold, but I wanted to look my best for Olivier. Suffering for beauty was something I’d learned to do since I started dancing ballet.
Five minutes before midnight, there was the faintest of knocks on my door, and I quietly opened it to reveal Fleur standing outside, beaming at me.
“You look beautiful,” she told me in a whisper, motioning for me to follow her.
We made our way down the hallway. It looked like most of the girls were asleep. The only lights left on were in the common room and Zara’s suite, but we thankfully didn’t run into anyone on our way to the Prince’s wing.
Fleur escorted me to his chambers, giving me a curtsy and a smile of encouragement.
“Have fun,” she whispered, and gave me a warm smile before knocking on the door and leaving me to wait for him alone.
A moment later, the door opened, and my heart started pounding into overdrive as Olivier’s handsome features came into view.
“Finally,” he growled, wrapping his fingers around my wrist and pulling me into the room.
The door shut behind us and suddenly I was crowded by him, my body firmly pressed against the door as his mouth moved to my neck. He kissed me, harder and harder as my body submitted.
“Now, brother dearest, you can’t have all the fun.”
I let out a sharp breath as Olivier pulled away, revealing Bruno standing behind him. The two brothers looked at each other with animosity and I shivered in their presence, feeling the anger radiating off them.
“What is going on?” I asked, my voice weaker than I would have liked it to be. “Olivier?”
“I’ll explain soon,” he growled, walking over to a plum armchair and patting his knee. “Now come here. Let me get a good look at you. I fucking missed you today, chérie.”
My eyes were on Bruno as I made my way to where his brother was sitting. Olivier pulled me onto his lap, his fingers touching my pale skin, tugging on my dress and revealing more to his hungry eyes and lips. He paid no mind to Bruno, kissing me as if we were alone in the room.
“Olivier, please,” I managed. “What’s going on?”
He sighed, pulling back and positioning me on his lap so my pussy was directly on top of his swollen cock. I felt his engorged length under me and shifted on top of him, eager for more.
“Look at her,” Bruno smirked. “She can barely fucking hold it.”
“She’ll have to for a moment longer,” Olivier grinned. “At least until we explain.”
“E-Explain what?” I stuttered. “What’s going on? Please, I’m scared.”
Olivier rocked me on his lap as Bruno closed the distance between us. I stared between the two of them, my eyes wide. They were opposites on the same spectrum – so similar yet so wildly different. And God help me, I want both.
“Amber, we’re going to need you to listen to us like a good girl now,” Bruno told me. “I know you can keep that pretty little mouth shut and wait for us to tell you a story. Would you like that?”
He stood behind me, his hands tightening in my hair and tugging on the strands. I gasped at the sensation, needing him to do so much more than that but too afraid to ask for it.
“Will you be a good girl for us?” Olivier whispered in my ear while Bruno toyed with my hair. “Will you sit and listen to our story?”
He parted my legs and I hissed when I felt his fingers fighting their way between my inner thighs.
“Say yes,” Bruno muttered against my hair. “Say you’ll listen, and we’ll reward you.”
“I’ll listen,” I whispered. “God, I’ll listen. I promise.”
“Good fucking girl,” they growled in unison.
20
Bruno
4 years ago
I ran up the staircase, taking two at a time until I was finally in front of the double doors. My heart was pounding, my breath coming in short bursts as I braced a hand against the wood.
This was it. My last chance to say goodbye.
I grabbed the door knob, taking a deep breath before pushing through into the room.
It was bright in there, but thick with the smell of death.
My brother stood by the marble shell sink, washing his hands. He looked over his shoulder when I walked in.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice rough with emotion.
“I… I wanted to say goodbye,” I managed, my hands shaking. I formed fists at my sides, looking at the pile of pillows on the bed. “Is he… is he here?”
“Not anymore,” Olivier threw out, his tone bitter and cutting through me like a knife. “You missed him by a few minutes.”
“He’s gone?” I felt everything inside me sink. I was too late. I hadn’t made it on time. My only chance to make things right was gone forever.
I walked over to the bed where my father’s peaceful figure was sleeping eternally. His eyes were open, glassy and unmoving as they stared at the ceiling. The look in them hurt too much to spend another second looking at him, and I gently closed his eyelids.
“What did he say?” My voice was barely above a whisper. “What was the
last thing he said?”
“You don’t want to know,” Olivier told me with a smirk.
In a flash on anger, I was on him, slamming him against the bookcase. Fat tomes fell from the shelves, landing with a crash on the floor. Olivier glared at me, but I didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t going to take this away from me. His last moment with our father should have been my own.
“Ask then,” he snarled at me. “Ask me exactly what our precious father told me. How he ruined my life. Came back to haunt me with the last one of his secrets.”
“The fuck are you talking about?” I growled in response. “What happened?”
“He wasn’t a good man, Bruno,” Olivier ground out. “Whatever the fuck you want to believe, he wasn’t a good man.”
“Tell me what you’re talking about,” I insisted. “I need to know. I deserve to know.”
“But you don’t want to know,” he finished for me. “It would ruin your life. Just walk the fuck away, Bruno. Let me deal with this just like I have with everything else.”
“No!” I ground out. “I fucking want to know what happened here.”
I glanced between the bed and my brother as something dawned on me. My mouth opened in shock and from Olivier’s look filled with guilt, I knew my thoughts were right, and I knew he could read them right off my face.
I let go of him as if I’d burned my fingertips, my hands shaking as I took a step back.
“What have you done?” I asked him. “Did you hurt him?”
“Let’s just say I helped him along into the afterlife,” he smirked. “He fucking deserved it.”
I ran my fingers through my hair, my heart pounding a million miles a minute.
“Are you fucking insane?” I finally managed. “You killed him. Your father. The King!”
“He deserved it,” Olivier hit back in response. “You don’t know what he did.”
“Then tell me,” I begged, rubbing my temples.
“No,” he replied.
I was on him in seconds again. Once more, he was slammed against the bookcase. But his devilish grin didn’t falter.
“What the fuck did he do?” I whispered.