“It doesn’t work like that, Mitchie. A king still has the right to defend himself when a person threatens to do him physical harm, and I believe you just announced in front of multiple witnesses that you wish to have a go at the king! Be grateful that we aren’t hauling your butt to a jail cell for it,” Loren announced firmly as he motioned to two nearby guards. “Help this piece of crap home.”
The men watched with smirks as the guards hauled Mitch away before clapping the king on the shoulder.
“Well done. I bet that felt good,” Loren commented grinning broadly.
It had felt good, but looking at Lana’s livid face he wasn’t so sure it was worth it.
“Yes, King Wells, well done! You’ve only proven that you’re nothing more than a big brute! Are you happy now? Are you? No man will want to cross you to date me! I’ll be alone for the rest of my life! Is that what you wanted? Is it? God! I hate you, Jeremiah Wells! I hate you! Now, will you kindly leave me alone and never talk to me again?”
She turned abruptly on her heel and stormed away.
“Lana!” He called, jogging after her. “Lana, wait!” He grabbed her arm and spun her to face him.
Her hand came without warning and a loud crack resounded back to the small crowd watching the confrontation.
“Ouch,” Loren whistled as he sidled up beside Xavier. “Man, that woman is a wild cat!”
The king grabbed her wrists and growled, “Will you just listen to me?”
“No! I won’t! Let go of me this instant!”
“Lana, please! You know why I pushed you away…you know that I only did it to protect you…you know that I’m sorry for hurting you.”
“Yes, sire. I know all of that. We’ve been through all of this before, but I refuse to be with a man who treats me like a subject!”
“I have never treated you…”
“Yes you have! You decided how best to handle me and the danger I was in by being close to you without talking to me like an equal. You assumed that as king only you had the right answers, only you knew what was best. That, sire, is treating me like an ignorant subject not worth consulting!” she blared, pulling her arms free and stomping away from him.
“Lana! Lana stop!” he pleaded, but she continued to march away without a single glance back. He couldn’t let it end this way. He knew what he had to do. An air of supremacy vibrated from him as he straightened and commanded forcefully, “Lana Applegate, as the King of Warwood, I order you to stop right there!”
She jumped at his hard, demanding tone and froze.
“Turn around,” he ordered, moving to her in several long, powerful strides.
She turned to him, her face set with anger.
“Oh, you’re so good at ordering people around, aren’t you? Well, Sire, you may rule this kingdom, you may rule on the Premier Court, but you do not rule me! Not anymore,” she hissed.
The king’s expression stiffened at her words but his shoulders drooped. For a moment, they simply stared at one another. Finally, he sighed and whispered, “You’re right. You’re right about all of it. I didn’t treat you as an equal partner in our relationship, and I’ve acted like a complete brute. I was wrong, Lana. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But, Lana, my sweet, you’re wrong about one thing. I never thought that I ruled you. Darling, it’s you who rules me.”
Suddenly, he dropped to his knees in front of her and took her hands in his. There was a brief murmur of uneasiness from the crowd. It was apparent that they had never seen their king voluntarily kneel before a citizen, and many found the act shocking. Xavier looked up at Loren standing beside him and found the man grinning.
He looked down at him, gave him a wink, and whispered, “I think he’s ready to move heaven and Earth now. He has her.”
He turned and focused on his father kneeling like a beggar in front of the speechless woman.
“You rule me: body, mind, and soul. I am only half a man without you…I am a substandard king without you. God, woman, I don’t know how to breathe without you near me. Please, please, I beg you…forgive me, save me. Please, save me from myself and come back to me.”
When Xavier looked at Lana to see her response, he realized that Loren had been right. It was clear by her expression and her tear-soaked face that his father had her in the palm of his hand.
“Oh, Jeremy. Yes. Yes!” she managed between sobs.
Jeremiah jumped to his feet and took her into his arms, covering her mouth with his. The crowd who had watched the entire exchange burst into loud cheers, whistles, and applause.
“Yes!” Xavier whooped, jumping into the air.
“High five, little sire,” Loren cheered, grinning and holding up his hand.
Xavier slapped it and looked back at his father and Lana.
“Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve had more than enough excitement for one night. I think I’ll round up my boys and head home,” Ephraim announced.
“Ah…Sire Wells? God forbid, you should come up for air, but should I take the boy home?” Loren called to the embracing couple.
“He’s coming home with me, Loren,” Ephraim called, snickering and draping an arm around the young prince.
“Is it okay with Dad?” Xavier asked.
The general smiled knowingly. “Who do you think suggested it?”
He looked back at his father and Lana, who had separated enough to talk.
“Come on, Xavier. They have a lot to work out, yet. Help me find my boys,” he concluded.
Chapter 10: Ephraim’s Temper
Xavier made his way with the Hardcastles back to the palace on foot. Ephraim and Rebecca trailed behind their rambunctious sons, holding hands and talking softly. Drew kept teasing Court about a kiss he had given Erica.
“You should have seen it, Xavier. It was hysterical! He missed and kissed Erica’s nose! She was laughing so hard that she couldn’t even stand let alone let him try again,” Drew told him, chuckling.
“Shut up, Drew, or I’ll tell Xavier about the time you got caught spying on girls in the lavatory at King’s Mountain,” Court blared.
“Hey, I’m proud of that!” he insisted.
“Yeah, well, would Cynthia be proud of you?” the younger brother challenged.
Drew’s carefree attitude faltered and he walked ahead, leaving the younger boys alone.
“What did he do?” Xavier asked.
Court grinned. “About two weeks before we returned from the mountain, Dad caught him spying on Cynthia and her friends through a peep hole he made in the girls’ shower.”
“Seriously? And Cynthia doesn’t know?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I have to admit, I’ve had a great time taking the Mickey out of him about it. She’s great ammunition against him when he starts giving me a hard time.”
“Taking the Mickey?”
“Sorry, one of Dad’s sayings…teasing him,” he explained.
As they approached the palace gates, Xavier couldn’t resist the urge to rib his friend. “So, how in the world did you miss Erica’s mouth?”
“Shut up!” he growled, grinning and giving him a playful shove.
When the group finally arrived at the palace, it was nearly one o’clock in the morning.
“All right, I want you all in bed in fifteen minutes. Court, give Xavier a spare pair of pajamas. He can sleep in Caleb’s bed, and Caleb will take Dennis’ bunk since he’s spending the night with Terry,” Ephraim announced.
“What? I don’t want that bed-wetter in the bunk above me!” Drew bellowed.
“I don’t wet the bed, Andrew!” Caleb yelled, punching at his brother.
Drew effortlessly held his smallest brother at arm’s length. “Dad?”
“Andrew, Dennis’s bunk bed is the only spare bed in the house,” Ephraim replied.
“Fine, then let Xavier sleep in it,” he suggested.
“Andrew, this isn’t a debate! I told you how it’s to be. No more complaining.”
“Yes, si
r,” he spat condescendingly and saluting his father.
Ephraim’s hand came quick and before any of them knew it, he had Drew pinned against the wall. “Watch your attitude with me, laddie. Sixteen or not, I can still take you over my knee.”
The group tensely watched father and son. Finally, Drew muttered, “Sorry, Father.”
Slowly, Ephraim released his oldest son and Drew stormed past the group and into the Hardcastle residence.
Within ten minutes, Court and Xavier had changed into pajamas, brushed their teeth, and climbed into opposite beds.
“Man, your dad is a badass!” Court blurted. “Did you see Mitch’s face when he was done with him?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I kind of felt sorry for him.”
“Don’t. Mitch is a complete jerk! He completely set up my dad once and nearly got him banished by your granddad.”
Xavier sat up and studied his friend. “What? How? What happened?”
“I don’t know all the details exactly, but Mitch accused my dad of stealing. It wasn’t true of course, but Mitch’s father was on the High Council and good friends with the king whereas my dad was a lowly merchant and wasn’t seen as a true citizen because he wasn’t born here. He was born in Ireland, the Cahir Kingdom. Anyways, the king believed Mitch. If it hadn’t been for your dad and Loren catching the real thief, Dad would have been whipped and banned from the kingdom.”
“Whoa. I didn’t know about any of that,” he gasped. “Okay, screw Itchie Mitchie!”
The boys burst into laughter just as Ephraim opened the door wearing pajama bottoms and a t-shirt.
“Lights out, boys,” he ordered hoarsely.
“Yes, sir,” the boys chimed together.
Ephraim strolled over to Court, ruffled his hair, and kissed his forehead. “Goodnight, son.”
“Goodnight, Dad,” Court muttered, settling under his covers.
Ephraim turned to Xavier and rubbed his head affectionately. “Goodnight, my prince.”
“Goodnight, sir.”
Ephraim turned out the light and left the room.
The boys lay silently in bed for several minutes before Court asked, “Xavier? Are you happy about your father and Lana?”
“Yeah! I think it’s great!” he whispered.
“Well, you know that they’ll probably get married someday.”
“What makes you say that?” he questioned, trying not to sound too hopeful.
“Well, Dad thinks so. I overheard him and Mum talking about it. He said if your dad ever made up with Lana, that he wouldn’t be surprised if they got married within a few months. He said that he’s never seen your dad that happy since your mum,” he whispered.
“Really?” Xavier replied with a grin.
After a brief pause, Court asked with a snicker, “Hey? Do you think he’s glowing tonight?”
He laughed. “God, I don’t know. I don’t really want to talk about my dad’s love life.”
“What? Don’t you find it interesting that your dad glows pink when he’s all hot and bothered?” he asked between giggles.
“Eww, gross! Knock it off,” Xavier groaned, trying not to laugh.
“I don’t get it, though. Why does a bad-ass like your dad glow pink? Pink! Blimey!”
The boys burst into uncontrollable giggles.
“Boys! Go to sleep,” Ephraim’s voice called from his bedroom.
“Yes, sir,” the boys chimed innocently together before giggling again.
“Courtney Aaron, I mean it! Don’t make me come in there,” his father yelled.
“Oops,” he hissed. “Dad’s getting grumpy.”
After a long silent moment, Xavier whispered, “Court?”
“Hmm?”
“How could you possibly miss Erica’s mouth?” He chortled before clamping his hand over his mouth in an attempt to muffle the noise.
“Shut up!”
Xavier felt a pillow strike his head and threw it back at the other boy, but a loud crash followed.
“What the hell?” Ephraim’s voice blared moments before his heavy footsteps stormed into the room and he flicked on the light. “What in bloody hell are you two doing in here?”
In the light, Xavier saw that he had knocked over a bedside lamp and a vase of some sort. Both were shattered next to Court’s bed.
“Sorry, Dad. I…I must have bumped the lamp,” Court lied.
“Just how did you manage that, Courtney? The lamp is out of your reach. How could you possibly knock it over?”
“I…I was…I”
“I did it, Mr. Hardcastle. I threw a pillow at Court and…missed,” Xavier muttered.
Ephraim sighed, entered the room, and gingerly began to pick up the glass. “Boys, it’s very late. I am not in the mood to put up with your shenanigans. I’m warning you now, if I come back in this room before morning, I will bare your bottoms and beat them until they glow.”
“Yes, sir,” the boys intoned solemnly.
“Good. Now, go to sleep,” he ordered and left the room, turning off the light behind him.
The boys listened as Ephraim threw the glass away in a waste bin and returned to his bedroom down the hall. Court released a loud sigh.
Xavier snickered. “Court? Will your dad really bare our…”
“If he says it, he means it,” he responded seriously.
“Ouch.” he laughed.
“Xavier, God. I’m telling you, he’s serious. Be quiet before you get us both in trouble.”
“Sorry,” he whispered. But he wasn’t sleepy. He was wired and excited. Lana was back in his father’s life, back in his life! He lay in bed listening to the silence of the residence, grinning and wondering what his father and Lana were doing. Then he thought of Court kissing Erica on the nose, and he giggled.
“Shh,” Court hissed.
“Sorry, but I just pictured you trying to kiss Erica and missing! I bet she’ll avoid your kisses like the plague now,” he blurted.
“Oh, yeah? I’ll have you know that she enjoyed every minute of it. She was putty in my hands,” his friend bragged.
He scoffed. “Don’t you mean snot in your mouth.”
“You’re disgusting!”
“Yeah? Well, at least I know how to kiss a girl!”
“Really, now? Then why did Robbie say you kiss like a fish!”
“She didn’t mean that!”
“Yeah, yeah. Of course, you’d say that…”
“No, no…really…”
“Whatever you say, Prince Guppy.”
“Prince Guppy?” he blared playfully, charging across the darkened room and pouncing on Court.
There was a loud grunt. “God, Xavier! I think you just ruptured my kidney.”
“Really? Sorry about that,” he retorted mockingly as he jumped up and down on the other boy.
“Ouch! Ow! Okay, okay, I take it back. You’re not Prince Guppy,” Court recanted.
“Good,” he replied with smug satisfaction and made his way back to his bed in the darkness. He had just settled under the covers when Court whispered, “No, a better name for you would be Prince Tadpole.”
“All right, you’re dead,” he exclaimed, jumping from his bed back onto Court.
“Ow!”
“BOYS!”
“Oh, no! Dad! Get off! Get off!” Court hissed as a door down the hall slammed open.
“I can’t! You’re lying on my shirt tail. No, not that way!” Xavier cried out as he slammed to the floor with a loud thump. Suddenly, the door banged open and light poured down on them from the overhead lamp as Ephraim stomped into the room, looking extremely grumpy.
“Get up off the floor, boy,” he spat at Xavier.
Quickly, he scrambled to stand as the angry general stormed toward his son.
“Dad…Dad…please…not in front of Xavier,” Court pleaded, shrinking away from his father.
“It won’t matter if I spank you in front of Xavier or not because he’s next,” he growled, lifting the boy off the bed l
ike he weighed no more than a feather and pinning him against his hip.
Court hadn’t been lying when he said his father meant what he said. Ephraim did just as he said he would, and when he was finished, both boys were sniffling and rubbing their stinging behinds.
“Now, I don’t want to hear another peep from this bloody room or this will all seem like a patty cake game. Understand?” he growled.
“Yes, sir,” the boys whimpered.
“Good,” he spat, stomped to the door, turned out the light, and left the room.
The boys didn’t say another word to one another for the remainder of the night.
When Xavier awoke the next morning, Courtney was still sleeping soundly in the bed next to his. Still sleepy, he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, but he had to pee so badly, his eyeballs felt like they were floating. Begrudgingly, he staggered out of the warm bed and into the hall.
Ephraim’s light laughter drew his attention to the kitchen where the general and his wife sat sipping tea. “Henrick said that he and Lana left the celebration soon after we did.”
“I’m so relieved they worked things out,” Rebecca whispered back. “Jeremy needs her. It’s about time he got past that ego of his to admit it to her.”
Ephraim chuckled. “I agree. He’s been a bloody toss-pot to nearly everyone since they broke up. Lana is one of few people who’s able to call him on it and keep his ego in check. She’s a strong woman despite all she’s lost.”
“No, sweetheart,” Rebecca interrupted softly. “She’s a strong woman because of all she’s lost.”
It was nearly one in the afternoon when Xavier returned to the royal residence.
“Good afternoon, honey,” Mrs. Sommers greeted him the moment he stepped through the door. “Are you hungry?”
“No, ma’am. I had a late breakfast at the Hardcastles’. Where’s Dad?”
“He’s still in bed. He was out quite late,” she told him. “You can go and wake him. He shouldn’t sleep much longer or he’ll never sleep tonight.”
“Okay. Thanks, Mrs. Sommers,” he chirped, bounding up the steps to his father’s room.
Slowly, he opened the door and tip-toed into the room. His father was sprawled across the width of the bed, and the clothes he had worn last night had been thrown haphazardly on top of his dresser. He crept closer and looked down at the sleeping king.
The Prince of Warwood and The Rise of the Chosen Page 8