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Slay Belles & Mayhem: A Medley of Dark Tales

Page 24

by Dani René


  With that, I turn away from my father and walk out of the room.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jocelyn

  I’ve been pacing in my bedroom for the last hour. I can’t get my brothers out of my mind.

  Are they okay?

  Did they hurt them?

  Are they hungry?

  I wish I could make time move faster. The next part of our plan can’t happen until tomorrow evening and it’s going to be agony having to wait that long. Not to mention having to pretend that I’m having fun at my own celebration. Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that the time spent waiting will be much easier on me than it will be on them. My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on my door.

  “Who is it?” I call out.

  “It’s me.”

  Mother.

  I don’t want to see anyone, least of all her or Father. But I need to act as though I’ve accepted Father’s decision. The only way I can make people believe I have, is to let them see me pretending to be okay.

  Opening my door, I let her in.

  “Jocelyn.”

  Standing out of the way, I allow her to enter my room. Closing the door, I turn to her. She looks like a wreck.

  “I should have explained everything last week when you asked me. I’m sorry.”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered, Mother. Nothing you could have said to me would have made me want to stay here any longer.”

  “You weren’t supposed to happen.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Your father and I tried for years to have more children after Benjamin.”

  “Benji,” I interrupt her.

  Confusion swirls around on her face.

  “He hates being called by his full name. Want to know why? It reminds him of you. Because of some song you used to sing to him when he was sad.”

  She looks away, shame clear on her face. Walking toward the fireplace, her eyes glaze over as she stares into the flames as if they hold the secrets of the past.

  “We tried having more children for years after he was born. In eight years, we were blessed with seven children who never made it to full term. Until you.”

  Breaking her trance, she sits on the sofa in front of the fireplace and I join her.

  “As the ninth month drew nearer, your father lost his way.”

  “He lost his mind, is what you mean, I think,” I interrupt her.

  She was offering too fair of a description regarding his behavior.

  “Yes, I suppose that’s more accurate,” she agreed before continuing. “Because I hadn’t lost you, he was certain you had to be a girl. He believed that God, himself, had spoken and said we weren’t supposed to have any more boys. That he would bless us with a daughter instead. Thinking you were going to be the second-coming of Christ, your father insisted that it was your destiny to rule Northshire. He was convinced your brothers would try to take it from you. That they needed to be stopped; killed. I tried tirelessly to make him listen to reason. In the end, he told me if I didn’t leave it alone, he would kill all thirteen of you.”

  She pauses a moment and looks at me. I can feel the sadness emanating from her. It seeps into my skin and I’m powerless to push it away like I did earlier, downstairs.

  “When I started to feel signs that you were coming, secretly, I sent for your brothers so I could say goodbye. Then, I told James to take everyone and wait in the woods. That I would send word when it was safe for them to come home. I was convinced you were a boy. We’d already had twelve happy, healthy boys before you. Why would I think you were to be any different?”

  Mother takes my hand in hers before she continues.

  “But I wasn’t a boy.”

  “No. You were, are, my beautiful baby girl. Your father was furious when he found out I told your brothers to leave. I thought after a little time that he would change his mind and I’d be able to send for them. They would come back here and we could all finally be a family again, but he told me he would kill them if they ever tried. He also threatened to take you away from me if I didn’t leave it alone. I thought I was doing what I needed to do to protect all of my children. My sons were gone, but at least they weren’t dead.”

  “Yet,” I add, tears pouring from my eyes thinking of the ones who I’ll never have the chance to meet.

  “I would do anything to be able to turn back the hands of time and make it right, Jocelyn. I need you to believe that.”

  Mother’s words sparked an idea. It was a huge risk, but it was one I felt I needed to take.

  For the sake of my family.

  The next evening, as my celebration was in full swing, my acting skills were being put to the ultimate test. Father watches me closely, to make sure I’m not conspiring against him. The more he drinks, however, the more relaxed he gets. He’s invited everyone and made sure they all knew how brave I was during my abduction. He explained that the four men responsible took me as a ploy to extort money from him. Everyone cheered as he lied, telling them how he figured out their plan when they came to collect the reward. He said he’d ambushed them in the throne room, locking them in the dungeons until their execution tomorrow morning.

  It made me sick.

  It was all I could do to keep a straight face and not let my inner turmoil show. A few times I slipped, but could explain it away as a flashback from my ordeal. It helped to know how much Father enjoyed his drink, which he’s sure to have plenty of this evening, and there would be witnesses here to see him go down.

  Approaching a group of men, chatting Father’s ear off, I locate his abandoned goblet on the table behind him. Carefully, I pull the vial from my corset. We purchased it from a town along our route to the castle. In the vial is a very strong sedative meant to cause your heart rate to slow, almost to the point of stopping. Looking around to make sure no one is watching me, I pour the entire contents of the vial into Father’s drink.

  I hide the vial back in my corset moments before he reaches behind him for his goblet. Luckily, he grabs it without turning around so he doesn’t see me. Turning from the group of them, I locate my ladies and join in their conversation.

  My eyes find Mother’s from across the room. I’d risked telling her our plan earlier, but when she mentioned she would do anything to make it right, I thought she could be a very important ally. If she would have said no, I don’t know what I would have done. She could have run and told Father. I can’t even think about it. She’s looking at me with a questioning expression. Nodding, I confirm completion of the next step in our plan and she returns her attention to the minstrel.

  Now, all we can do is wait.

  I keep a close eye on Father from that moment on. Watching as he carries on with his guests as if his children weren’t in the dungeons awaiting their deaths. Again, I have to fight to keep my expression intact. He moves to a group of women, who eat up his attention. I know the moment that the sedative takes effect when he places his hand on the shoulder of the lady he’s speaking with, to help him keep his balance.

  I hear his loud voice boom over the crowd that perhaps he’s been enjoying himself a little too much. The group of them laugh about it, but nothing else happens. I turn my attention back to my ladies, so it doesn’t appear as though I’m staring too much. Getting involved in their conversation, I don’t check on Father again for a few minutes when suddenly I hear a crash followed by a collective gasp from the crowd. Drinkware goes flying, dinnerware crashes to the floor, and shouts can be heard calling out to the King.

  I’m mid-sentence with one of my ladies as my head shoots toward the commotion. I run toward it, pushing my way through the crowd of people, making it appear as though I don’t have any idea what’s happening. When I find the opening in the crowd, I see Father on the floor in the middle of everyone.

  Reaching within me, tugging on the emotions I’ve been keeping hidden since I arrived yesterday, I let them all out. Tears cascade down my face as a scream rips from my throat. I fall on top of Father, shakin
g him to try and make him wake up.

  “Someone fetch the healer!” I scream.

  Within seconds, Mother joins me, also in tears over the sight of her husband laying on the floor, unmoving. I hear a voice call out over the crowd asking everyone to step back. Father’s knights have come in and they’re attempting to control the situation while Mother and I console one another. In a manner of minutes, the healer arrives.

  “Do you think it would be best to look him over privately?” I ask him, wanting to get Father away from the stares of onlookers. “Where no one can see?”

  He understands and nods his head.

  “Please, will you help transport Father to his quarters?” I ask his knights

  Several of them step forward and offer to move him. We follow them and the healer to Father’s bedroom and his knights place him gently onto the bed.

  “Would you please leave us?” I ask them.

  “We’ll be right outside, should you need anything, your Highnesses,”

  They bow to Mother and I before leaving.

  I wrap Mother in my arms as she stands next to the bed, watching as the healer examines Father. The healer takes his time. He listens for a heartbeat and I don’t miss the troubled look on his face when he struggles to find it. Not giving up, he examines Father thoroughly. He checks his pupils, feels around for lumps or bruises. Several times, he tries again to find a pulse, or even one beat of his heart.

  Finally, he looks up at us, his expression is grim.

  “I’m so sorry, your Highnesses. There’s nothing I can do.”

  I keep my Mother from falling to the floor as another wave of despair wracks her body.

  “The King is dead.”

  “We sincerely appreciate your efforts,” I tell the healer, through my tears.

  “I’ll let you say good-bye in private,” the healer bows and exits the room.

  I walk Mother to the sofa and help her sit down.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her.

  “I will be. It needs to be done, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be sad about it.”

  “I know. Just think, soon, we’ll all be together again. Just like you’ve always wanted.”

  A slight smile forms on her face, but it’s nowhere close to reaching her sad eyes. I turn away from her. It’s now or never. There’s one final thing I need to do. Walking to the side of the bed, I look down at Father. Like Mother, I’m sad too. But, unlike her, I don’t have one tear to shed for the cruel bastard. My sadness is for the four men in a cell far beneath where I’m standing, who won’t get the revenge they deserve.

  I pull the pillow out from beneath Father’s head and tear the cloth cover from it. Ripping it into strips, I ball them up and place them into his mouth, pushing them down his throat as far as they can go. Even with the sedative, his throat tries to expel them a few times. His body’s way of trying to survive.

  Finally, when I can’t jam one more piece of cloth into his throat, I close his mouth and place the pillow back underneath his head. The cloth will restrict the oxygen from his lungs to his brain over the next several minutes.

  By the time the sedative wears off, he’ll already be dead.

  Epilogue

  Jocelyn

  Two Months Later

  In the days that followed Father’s death, the castle was a flurry of people coming and going. Mother threw herself into preparations both for Father’s funeral as well as my coronation. The King’s knights were shining their armor. The chefs were cooking. Everyone had a job to do; including me.

  Fortunately, this meant that all attention was off of the four prisoners whose lives hung in the balance.

  I took advantage of the chaos and cornered one of the night guards before his shift began. Carefully, I explained to him the truth about my disappearance, terrified he wouldn’t believe me. Luckily, he’d been employed by my family for years and never quite believed the story that the King and Queen told about how my brothers died.

  I offered him a hefty sum of money to help them escape. I also promised him land if he would provide them food and shelter at his house until I came for them. With the promise of a better life for his family, he freed them and led them to safety through the tunnels beneath the castle.

  On the morning of Father’s funeral, I left the castle and was finally reunited with them. I told them that Mother played a role in both Father’s death as well as their escape. They weren’t happy that I took the risk, but once I explained how it worked out better, having her on our side, they couldn’t stay mad at me. Together, we traveled back to the castle, where Mother awaited our arrival. Benji and the twins greeted her warmly, but James held back. I could tell Mother was upset, but she didn’t push it. I told her to give him time.

  The boys couldn’t attend Father’s funeral, though I know they wouldn’t have gone even if it was safe for them to do so. I couldn’t blame them, seeing as how I didn’t want to go either. The day was long and all I could think about was returning to my room, where my brothers were staying hidden, and being with them. The onslaught of people telling me how sorry they were that Father was gone made me angrier by the second. When I couldn’t take it any longer, I snuck upstairs to my room.

  Bursting through the door, I explained to my brothers why I was enraged. Surprisingly, James was the first one to speak up. He told me that he had a way to help me forget all about my anger. The magnitude of the rage in his eyes matched my own and I knew that he needed my help to calm it as much as I needed his.

  Benji, Henry, and Harry looked on as James tore the dress from my body. His intensity scared me as much as it turned me on. He instructed me to place my hands on the back of the sofa and not to let go. I listened to him. He tugged on my hips and walked me backward until my body was bent at a perfect ninety-degree angle. My other brothers questioned whether or not I was alright, and I assured them I was.

  The way James smacked my ass this time was drastically different from the first. This time, his palm met my ass with purpose instead of anger and violence. He took a break in between each one to massage the area, making sure to follow up each bite with something that would make me feel good. Sometimes, he would circle my clit. Sometimes he would tease the line at my opening. Sometimes he would thrust his fingers inside of me, moving them around until I moaned his name. He morphed my pain into pleasure until I didn’t know which I craved more.

  He continued until I didn’t remember what I was mad about to begin with. Only after making me beg for it, did he sink himself inside of me, fucking me until I screamed his name.

  Later that night, when the rest of the castle was asleep, I was awoken by the feeling of moisture rushing from me. Disoriented, I opened my eyes and questioned what was happening. I tried sitting up, but a set of hands held me down as I heard a whisper float through the air.

  “Let us enjoy you.”

  The twins.

  Rolling me onto my side, I curled my leg over the hips of the man in front of me, opening my core to him. He reached between us and slid his cock deep inside of me, stretching me wide. I felt something warm and wet touching the forbidden place between my crack and I gasped in shock at the thought of his tongue there. Quickly, a set of lips covered mine before I could object.

  The two of them worked their twin magic on me for a while, getting me relaxed enough until I was ready to let them both inside of me at the same time. They moved together, very slowly, allowing my body to get used to the pressure. It was painful, it was pleasure, and by the time they finished, they’d delivered me to euphoria.

  When I awoke the next morning, I realized the twins were gone and I was curled up in Benji’s arms, his erection laying between the crack of my ass. I turned my head to look at him and met his warm loving eyes. He placed his lips on mine as his hands found my nipples, tugging on them gently. He dragged his kiss from my lips, over my stomach, not stopping until he reached the place between my legs. Licking me from my clit to my entrance, he didn’t stop until I came undone. Then
, he slipped himself inside of me and we made love. As our eyes met, I could feel our souls calling out to one another.

  I knew my life would be complete as long as I had him; as long as I had all of them.

  Word had gotten around that some of my brothers had returned home. Mother had to go in front of the church and explain the events that occurred eighteen years earlier. Despite minor pushback from some of the church elders, my brothers were welcomed home. At my coronation, I stood up in front of the citizens of Northshire and abdicated my throne. In doing so, the crown would go to the next family member in line.

  James.

  Watching the archbishop crown James, putting him on the throne where he belongs, was one of the happiest days of my life. I’ve been asked several times over the past two years whether or not I regret my decision to abdicate. I happily reply that I will never regret doing what I did. I don’t want to be Queen. I have my brothers back and they’re all I need in this world.

  Mother passed away in her sleep the night that James ascended the throne. It was as if her mission on this earth was complete, once everything was as it should have always been. I miss having her around sometimes. It was a lot to forgive, what she did, but helping to right the wrong that was committed was the first step in the healing process. James sat, emotionless, at her funeral. But I know he felt pain deep within him.

  James requested that Edward, Christopher, Philip, and Alexander come live at court with their families. Unfortunately, they felt that the differences they had with James in the past were too many to forgive and declined the offer. I hope that one day they’ll reconsider, but I know the chances of that are slim.

  I spend my days roaming the castle with my ladies, causing trouble, and flirting with noble men. My brothers hate watching me, but I can’t let on that I’m not interested in finding a husband and starting a family. I am interested in those things. I’ve spoken with James and he’s agreed to marry me off to William Stewart, a nobleman who I caught fucking his boyfriend behind the stables one day. I told him I would keep his secret and he could go about his business, no questions asked, as long as he agreed to marry me. Our marriage will give us the cover we need to hide our true natures from the cruel world.

 

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