Xavier laughed and squirmed uncomfortably before turning back to Robbie. “I guess we’ll have to make up later. Can you meet me at the lake after lunch?”
“Sorry, Xavier. I can’t. I have to get my books for school and Mom is taking Brit and me into New York City to shop,” she told him.
“Oh, well, that sounds like… fun. When will you be back?” he asked.
“Not until kind of late, I think,” she responded.
“Well, I could drop in,” he suggested with a snicker.
Robbie laughed. “Don’t you dare! Mom nearly had a heart attack when King Wells called and told her you spent the night in my room. I had to sit through a very long, long, long lecture on the birds and the bees, and now she makes surprise visits to my room just to make sure I’m alone!”
“He called your mom?” he gasped.
“Yes, what did you expect he’d do?”
He shrugged. He hadn’t thought much about the incident aside from his own punishment, but he wasn’t surprised that his father had called Mrs. Minnows. It was exactly what his father would do.
“Well, I guess we’ll just have to get together after school tomorrow, then. Maybe I can take you to King’s Cafe for a milkshake,” he stated.
“It’s a date!” she grinned.
Chapter 15: Powerful Headache
Early the next morning, Xavier awoke with a start, bolting upright in bed. Panting he looked around the room as though the threats from his dream waited for him here, but his room was still and quiet. Almost immediately, he dropped back into his pillows and rubbed his head with a groan. It didn’t hurt exactly; it just felt…strange. An intense throbbing pressure was building behind his eyes as if an invisible force pushed to get out. He rubbed his face vigorously and looked around the room once again. Moonlight slipped through the crack in his curtains. It was either very late or very early. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table and confirmed it was just after four in the morning.
At that moment the pressure behind his eyes intensified and his head began to tingle and crawl as though thousands of tiny critters were scurrying across his head. He leaped from the bed, ignored the thumping tension in his temples, and rushed into the bathroom. Frantically he searched through his hair but found no bugs in his long, white locks. Exhaling in relief, he splashed cool water over his face attempting to soothe the overwhelming pressure but to no avail. He turned and flicked on the shower. Hoping a long hot shower would do the trick, he stripped, stepped into the frosted-glass enclosure, and submerged his head under the steaming spray. The water seemed to ease the sensation somewhat so he stood under the water for nearly an hour before finally stepping from the shower and toweling dry. He wrapped the towel around his waist, wandered out of the bathroom, and flopped on the bed. The relief was short-lived and within seconds the throbbing returned with a vengeance.
Two hours later, when Mrs. Sommers came bustling into the room and threw back his curtains, Xavier hadn’t moved. Turning, she spotted him lying halfway on his bed with his legs dangling over the edge.
“Well! I guess someone must be a bit anxious to start his day,” she chirped.
“I guess so,” he moaned, not offering to move. The strange sensation had lessened considerably, but it was still there, nagging at him.
“Well, sweetie,” she continued as she walked to his closet and pulled out his school uniform, “you better get a move on. You’ll want to be early for your first day back so that you can get your new class schedule and find your classes.”
Slowly he sat up and watched her fling his clothes on to the foot of his bed. “I see you’ve already had your shower,” she continued rambling as she disappeared into the bathroom and returned with his pajama bottoms. “For heaven’s sake, Xavier Wells! Would it hurt you to pick up after yourself and not leave your clothes on the bathroom floor? Your pajamas are soaking wet!” She gave him a stern tut-tut and frowned, but she wasn’t fooling him. She basked in the idea that he still needed her to pick up after him. “Well, I’ll leave you to get dressed, dear. No dawdling! Your father is already dressed and will be having his breakfast soon.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, finally standing.
“Lord, it’s been over a year and those scars are still visible. Poor dear, he’s been through so much, too much,” she commented.
“What?” he questioned, turning to Mrs. Sommers, but she had left the room. Odder still, her voice continued as clear as if she was standing next to him.
“This family has been through hell. It’s a relief that the evil monster that caused it all is now dead. Maybe the boys can finally find some peace and happiness. Lord knows, they deserve it.”
He shook his head trying to disconnect from his governess’ thoughts, but they clung to him.
“Especially little Xavier. No child should ever have to deal with the evilness he’s had to face. That poor, poor baby boy,” her thoughts continued.
He gave his head another hard shake before the governess’ thoughts were finally forced out of his mind. He sank onto his bed with a shaky breath and a light headache. What had just happened?
Fifteen minutes later, he entered the dining hall fighting a growing headache.
“Morning, son!” his father bellowed jovially, making him cringe.
“Morning, Dad,” he grumbled.
“Your books are in my study on the table. After you eat, get your books and pack up for school.”
“Yes, sir.” He rubbed his temple vigorously.
“He looks a bit peaky.” His father’s voice crowded into his mind before he asked aloud, “Are you feeling alright?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I’m just a little tired. I guess I’m not used to the school routine,” he lied.
“Why are you lying to me, son.”
“God, Dad! I’m not lying! I’m just tired. That’s all!” he spat, dropping his silverware loudly on the table.
Stunned by his outburst, the king lowered his newspaper to study his son. “Why are you reading my thoughts?”
“Why are you calling me a liar?” he retorted.
“Xavier, I’m your father, and as I’ve told you before, I know when you’re not being completely honest with me. Now, answer the question, why are you reading my thoughts?” he repeated with as much patience as he could muster.
Xavier floundered. There was no way he wanted his father to know he had unintentionally connected with him. So, he did the only thing he could think to do. He went on the defensive.
“I’M NOT LYING!” he bellowed, standing and stomping from the room.
“Xavier!” his father barked, and before Xavier could reach the steps, he seized him and spun him around. “Do not raise your voice at me!”
“Oh! I’m soooo sorry, Your Highness. I forgot how you like to have everyone bowing down to you and kissing your ass!” he spat.
What the heck was he saying? His father would kill him and from the expression on his face, it appeared he was about to do just that. With a jerk, he found himself pinned against his father’s hip. He held his breath as the stinging smacks found their mark on his backside. It didn’t matter how he prepared for it, his father’s spankings always sent tears to his eyes.
Then, with another jerk, his father held him at arm’s length and growled furiously, “If you ever speak to me like that again, your backside will be too sore to sit! Do you understand?”
He nodded, not trusting his voice.
“And, that little indiscretion has earned you a night indoors. You will come straight home after school. There will be no hanging out with friends, no playing rugby, and no swimming in the lake.”
“I don’t care,” he murmured under his breath.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing.”
His father studied him for a moment before releasing him. “Go get your books and pack. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” he grumbled as he shuffled toward the dining hall and his father’s study.
&
nbsp; Twenty minutes later, the limo pulled up in front of Wells Academy. Children in identical uniforms swarmed around the front of the building. Michael Spencer stood imposingly at the top of the stairs twirling his cane. Daniel stood anxiously beside him, fidgeting with his Academy uniform.
Xavier climbed from the vehicle, doing his best to push away the insistent pressure still building in his head. He could feel every eye on them as he and his father climbed the steps to where Spencer stood.
“Hey, Xavier!” Daniel chirped, his voice flooding with relief.
“Hey. What’s up?” he asked as the smaller boy bounded down the steps to meet him.
“Daddy is letting me attend the Academy since my electro force ability has gotten stronger over the summer. Watch!” Daniel chattered, lifting his hands.
“Daniel,” Michael warned quietly. “What did I tell you about that?”
“But I was only going to show Xavier,” the smaller boy protested.
“I said no. You haven’t had enough training or supervised practice with your electro force. You could hurt someone,” he told him firmly.
“Yes, sir,” he muttered, his shoulders slumping dejectedly.
“There’s a good boy,” Spencer added with a smile before turning to Xavier. “So, Your Highness, ready to start a new school year?”
“Yes, sir,” he responded.
“I have your schedule here. We had to do some last-minute re-arranging with your classes since your father is only available after lunch,” Michael told him.
“Why would my father need to be available?”
“I’m teaching your telepathy lessons now, remember?” Jeremiah reminded him.
“Oh. Yeah. I forgot,” he mumbled, taking the schedule from Michael’s outstretched hand.
“Oi! Xavier! Over here!” Court bellowed from a small grassy knoll where he stood with Beck, Garrett, and Mac.
He waved at his friends. “Well, I guess I’ll see ya after lunch, Dad,” he remarked before moving toward the group.
“Hey, Xavier? Can I come and hang out with you and your friends?” Daniel asked hopefully.
“Sure, come on,” he responded nonchalantly.
The boy grinned and ran to fall into step with the prince as they approached his friends.
The two men watched the boys join the group, who all smiled and began thumping Daniel on the back like a long-lost buddy. Spencer snickered.
“It appears that Xavier has a surrogate little brother. I hope he’ll be mindful of how fragile Daniel is right now. He desperately wants to fit in. I don’t want him hurt.”
“No father wants that, Michael. Unfortunately, pain is a fact of life, but don’t worry. I’ll have a talk with Xavier about watching out for Daniel. After all, that’s what families do. They look out for one another,” Jeremiah replied meaningfully.
Michael eyed his brother before calmly responding, “Yes they do. But sometimes they overstep their boundaries. Jeremiah, I’m thankful you found Daniel, but I can’t just forget what you did! If you hadn’t interfered, Daniel would have never been taken by that madman. If you hadn’t interfered, Natalie would still be alive.”
The king looked everywhere but at his brother. He was right. He should have never interfered. Even with all the posturing and excuses he claimed to have for sending Natalie away, he was ashamed of how he had gone about it. He had been distraught, angry, and even jealous to discover Michael had found love and happiness when he had nothing. He had just sent Julia and his infant son away for their own safety, and the burden of the throne weighed heavily on him. He resented being king. He was jealous that Michael could run away and begin a carefree life without the strains of kingship. When he discovered his brother’s location, he immediately went after him. He remembered that day well, too well.
Michael and Natalie had found a quaint, little apartment in Cleveland. He still remembered the surprised look on his brother’s face seeing him at his door.
“Hello, Michael.”
“Jeremiah! How did you…what are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to get you. The kingdom needs you.”
“Bullshit! It never needed me, not with the heir of Warwood running it.”
“Those are father’s words not mine. I need you!” He fought the tears that pooled in his eyes. “I sent Julia and Xavier to the Menes’s. They’re gone.”
The hardness in Michael’s face dropped and he sighed. “I’m sorry Jeremy. That sucks. Come in.”
The conversation that followed had been cordial. Michael agreed to return to Warwood while Natalie packed up their things and made arrangements to store the things they didn’t need. Jeremiah had promised to send transportation for her in two days, but he came instead. The guilt clawed at him as he remembered the wounded look in her eyes when he told her she would not be joining Michael.
“He’s too young to start a serious relationship! He needs time to straighten out his life before he can share it with anyone! He’s only nineteen for God’s sake!”
“He loves me, and I love him!” she protested.
“Love has nothing to do with it! It’s a matter of duty and honor. If he stays with you he will not stay in Warwood, and he must stay. It is his responsibility, his duty to return. Do you really want to be the reason he shirks his heritage and responsibilities?”
“But, I can live there! He doesn’t have to leave his people to be with me!”
Jeremiah shook his head. “You cannot stay in Warwood. There is a lot of turmoil and it’s not safe to outsiders right now. Some of my people are very distrustful of outsiders, and I fear you would be in danger from the growing resistance in the kingdom. If you were injured, Michael wouldn’t hesitate to leave to protect you. He will not stay in Warwood without you, but Warwood needs him. I need him. I need him to help me resolve the threats to our way of life.”
Natalie understood. He could see it in her face as she paled.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Write a letter to him. Tell him he must stay in Warwood and that you will not be coming. Say whatever you must to ensure he does what is best for him and his people.”
Nodding, she sat at the small kitchen table with a pen and paper. He had offered her a sizeable amount of money to help her get started somewhere where Michael couldn’t find her, but she had refused the money. She earned his respect for that action. He hadn’t known she was pregnant at the time, but even if he had known, it wouldn’t have changed how he dealt with the situation. He had been young and head-strong. He had believed that LeMasters wasn’t aware of Michael’s relationship with Natalie and therefore sending her away was the safest thing to do for her and Michael. Yes, at the time, he thought separating the couple was best for everyone involved. He had been wrong, deadly wrong.
“You’re right, Michael,” he commented quietly. “I handled it poorly. I thought Natalie would be better off away from Warwood and away from William’s radar. I misjudged the situation. If I’d known William knew about her… I didn’t think he would go after her if she wasn’t around you or Warwood. I assumed she’d be safe as long as she stayed away. I was mistaken, but I swear to you, I didn’t know about the baby. I didn’t know about Daniel until the hearings! I’m sorry, Michael. I’m so very, very sorry for my actions. The only excuse I have is that I was devastated after sending Julia and Xavier away, and I wasn’t in my right mind. I hope someday you’ll be able to forgive me.”
“Someday I might,” Mike answered before looking over at his son, who was tugging on Xavier’s sleeve for his attention. It had been years since he had been a young boy tugging on his big brother’s arm, and he knew he would never see Jeremiah with the same reverence again. But maybe that was the natural course of things. Boys grew to be men and outgrew their childhood heroes.
Xavier’s first class was history, and he was pleased to discover that all his friends would be in the same class. So as one loud, boisterous crowd, they made their way into the classroom and waited for the teacher to
arrive. Just before the bell, Lana Applegate entered the room with an armful of papers.
“Lana?” Xavier blurted and stood. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s Madam Applegate at school, Xavier. I’m teaching now. Didn’t your father tell you?” she asked with a smile.
“No, he didn’t,” he said, “but I think it’s great.”
“Well, I am glad you approve. Now, will you find your seat so I can begin?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, sitting and digging in his bag for his textbook.
Ten minutes into the lesson, the throbbing pressure in Xavier’s head had intensified, and by the next class period, he began to hear voices; a lot of voices. In fact, every thought from every student in the classroom assaulted his mind. Needless to say, by third period, his head was hurting so badly from the influx of thoughts that he was beginning to feel nauseous.
He submerged his head under the water fountain hoping that it would help ease the pain when Robbie’s voice fought its way through the mob of thoughts in his mind.
“Hey, Xavier? Want to walk with me to Latin class, since we have it together?”
Slowly, he pulled his head out from under the cold oasis and met Robbie’s eyes vacantly. “Ah...I can’t...I...I feel like crap. I think I’m just going to go home...” he answered weakly, turning toward the Academy’s doors.
“But, Xavier, you need the headmaster’s permission and he’s teaching our next class!” she called after him, but he couldn’t hear her past the pain and noise in his head.
With his hands clamped over his ears, Xavier raced from the school and across the field to the secret door in the palace’s wall. Out in the open, the bombardment of voices grew exponentially with not only the thoughts of the students and staff from the Academy, but with the thoughts from every living soul in the kingdom. He didn’t make it to the secret passageway before he fell to his knees and began retching uncontrollably. The noise in his mind continued to intensify and he found himself crawling the remaining distance to the secret door. Once through the passage, the noise in his head was so disorienting that he got lost in the thick tangle of branches before finally collapsing to the ground.
The Prince of Warwood and The Rise of the Chosen Page 13