by Emma Merrell
She led him through a series of courtyards until finally, they came to a set of gates. "This is where the royal family resides. Very few are permitted through these gates."
Jude was tempted to ask if he should feel special, but he was too distracted by what he saw when he was led through the gates. It was overwhelming. The sheer amount of riches in one place, Jude had a hard time comprehending it. A truly cowing display of wealth. If Jude had seen the girl’s court, he would have noted a lot of similarities, but here there was more gold, more fancy rugs, more items encrusted with jewels. The sound of running water assailed him from all angles and was the only noise that could be heard. It was by far the most peaceful place that he had been since the forest.
"Are you ready to continue? The prince will not like to be kept waiting."
Jude gave a nod and followed Petunia into a small hallway off the main courtyard. It was not nearly as fancy as what he just experienced, and Jude knew that the only people who ever walked this way were the servants. She led him down into a large cellar. One wall was lined with countless clay jars and barrels, and the other held shelves of fine pitchers and goblets. There was a table in the middle of the room and a fire blazing in the hearth, heating a suspended metal pot.
"As you can see, you will find everything here that is necessary for you to perform your duties. Anything that the prince could wish to drink is here. Let me show you."
For the next half hour, Petunia instructed him on everything from the proper way to pour, and which was the correct receptacle for any given beverage, to how to make a proper cup of coffee. He learned what was in every single jug.
"So, am I ready now?"
"I very much hope so, because if not the prince will let you know it."
Jude searched her face carefully to surmise whether that had been a joke, but her face was serious. "Okay then."
They came at last to a grand entryway and beyond it was a room that put everything else that Jude had seen so far to shame. A man rose from a gilded chair and Petunia immediately fell to her knees and Jude followed right behind. A pair of slipper-shod feet stepped into his field of vision and for a moment all he could pay attention to were the crazy amount of furs that they were sown of. Jude found that the prince left him a considerable amount of time to study the slippers as he did not have them rise for a long couple of minutes.
"Rise."
"Your Highness. May I present Jude Taylor, your new beverage server."
Jude gave a low bow and spoke the words that he had been fed. "I am honored to be in your presence, Your Highness."
"You are excused, Petunia."
She gave Jude a sideways look as she kneeled, and his heart sped up a little bit. The only friendly face that he knew was heading out the door. As soon as he recognized his nervousness Jude immediately began to fight it. He wasn't about to let himself be intimidated by a title, not after what this 'royal' family had done to his. He drew himself up to his full height and met the prince's gaze full on. He had a set of dark green eyes that were framed by thick black brows, and right now those eyes were narrowed at Jude.
"Bring me coffee."
"Yes, Your Highness."
He hurried out of the room and when he got to the cellar everything that Petunia taught him promptly flew out of his head. What jar held the coffee grounds again? His hands flew along the walls, opening every container and rejecting it as wrong. Jude felt time ticking by and he wouldn't have cared about disappointing the prince if it weren't for Luce. Relief crashed over him when he found it and he completed the complicated brewing process as quickly as he was able without messing up any crucial step. At least he hoped.
Coming back into the room he saw the prince lounging on a pile of cushions by a small table. His face showed his impatience and his full lips were twisted in contempt. "I expect that it will never take you so long again. If you do not understand what you are doing I can easily have you reassigned to somewhere much less pleasant."
"Yes, Your Highness. My apologies."
The prince gestured impatiently and with a bit of a start, Jude went forward and began laying everything out. Petunia hadn't instructed him on this, and he hoped that there wasn't some special way of doing it. When Norrick raised his glass to hide his overlarge mouth without making a comment, Jude knew that he had done alright. He was going to be able to handle this.
He was just about to back into the shadows until he was needed again but the prince stopped him with an upraised hand. "The palace is buzzing about you." Norrick flicked his braid off his shoulder and laughed. "Of course, that is why I requested you. I must see the mistake that everyone is talking about."
A hot flush of anger moved under Jude's skin. He wasn't used to dealing with assholes of this magnitude without being able to fight back. It took a lot of effort for him to bite back the words that were trying to escape him. Luce. Luce. Luce. He had to pull it back for her. "Of course, Your Highness."
"I understand that your sister is adjusting well. She went to my brother last night." Jude could feel the prince watching him for a reaction and he gave him none. "I'm sure that you have missed her dearly. In fact, as a welcome gift why don't I have her brought here to see us?"
Norrick rang a bell and a guard appeared after a few moments. "Bring the new girl without delay."
"Your-"
"Did I invite you to speak?"
"No, Your Highness."
"Make yourself useful and bring a tray of drinks that I may share with your sister."
As soon as he was out of sight Jude threw his fist into one of the stone walls. He winced and shook out his fist. It had hurt and hadn't made him feel any better, but damn if he hadn't wished it was the prince's face. He didn't know what the guy's problem with him was, or if he was always that much of a dick. It made Jude extremely worried about the reasons that he was bringing Luce to them. If he tried to hurt her at all Jude was not going to be able to sit idly by.
Of course, she could have already been hurt. Norrick had said she was with the prince last night. Jude wasn't naive, he knew why she had been brought here and he knew what she was expected to do with the prince. She would have done it too if they were holding his safety over her head. She might have hidden the ugly truth from him while talking though Petunia last night, but he would be able to tell as soon as he saw her face if she were really okay or not. He was anxious about seeing her, excited, and scared all at once.
When Jude had finished setting up the drinks, Norrick banished him to a corner with the flick of his hand to wait. It took maybe twenty more minutes before Luce arrived. An overwhelming wave of longing swept over Jude at the sight of her. It was all he could do not to sweep her up into a hug and check her over for any bumps or bruises. She hadn't seen him all the way in the back of the room and he fought himself not to draw her attention. Jude was sure that the prince had a way that he wanted to play out this little amusement and he didn't want to get either of them in trouble by ruining it.
So, he watched as his sister curtseyed before the prince and waited to be called upon to rise. She was in far nicer clothes than anyone he had seen save the royal family. They had her wrapped in a soft, floaty sort of dress that covered her up almost entirely. From what he could see she looked unharmed, but he hadn't caught a glimpse of her face yet. The prince told her to rise and there was her face, showing uncertainty mixed with a healthy dose of defiance. That was all that he had needed to see, Luce was unbroken.
When they were seated, Jude was at last allowed to come forward so that he could pour their drinks. When she saw him, Luce's mouth widened, and she reached out as if to touch him, but she caught herself and stilled. He could still read her face though, and he could tell that she was on the verge of tears from being reunited.
"Ah yes, pretty Luce. Your brother. What a sweet reunion, don't you think?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Of course, I haven't brought you here for him."
"Oh no?"
"I was cu
rious about the new girl that has caused such a sensation. I hear that you've been making enemies already."
"If I have enemies, it wasn't me that made the first move. I didn't know that princes concerned themselves with women’s affairs, Your Highness."
Jude had to stop himself from snorting aloud. She was being awfully brazen, and a little bit careless with the way that she was talking to the prince. He was half worried about her and halfway impressed. He tried to catch her eye, but she was entirely focused on the prince as if immediately understanding that his ego would tolerate nothing less than her full attention.
"I love concerning myself with women’s affairs, maybe even more so than my brother."
Luce pulled a face that Jude knew he was mirroring. From everything he knew, that was not the way that things were supposed to go down. At all. He was suddenly frightened of the scene that was playing out in front of him. A million scenarios of all the horrible ways that this could go down began running through his head. Jude was standing behind the prince, waiting to be called on again. He shifted his weight forward so that he could fight if necessary.
"Stand and turn so that I can look at you."
Jude could see the flush of anger as it moved across her face, but as she stood, she met his eyes for the briefest of moments and he knew that she would do whatever Norrick asked of her. He averted his gaze away from Luce, unable to watch as she subjugated herself to that asshole. He watched said asshole instead. Norrick's sharp green eyes were moving over every inch of her body as she slowly turned in front of him, his eyes full of hunger. It took everything he had not to be the overprotective big brother and punch the prince in his face for looking at her that way.
The prince stood and began walking around her, touching little bits of fabric and catching strands of hair as he went. "My mother did well with you. You are exactly my brother’s type. If any of the girls have a chance at luring him out of his ridiculous celibacy it might be you."
"I wouldn't dare to think of 'luring' Prince Jonathan in any way."
Norrick gave a throaty chuckle. "You are a clever one, aren't you? Playing so coy, speaking so well, but I can see the fire in your eyes. You hate me, and you hate everything about my world."
Luce remained silent.
"Most of all, you hate that I have control of your brother. I'm sure you would appreciate a chance to speak with him, no? What if I were to let you embrace?" his head snapped towards Jude. "Boy, come closer."
Jude closed the gap with a couple of strides and stopped. "Yes, Your Highness?"
"My slipper has some dirt on the toe. Clean it."
Jude didn't know where the cleaning supplies were, it wasn't supposed to be his job. He would just have to hope that he found another servant once he left the room and that Luce would be alright in his absence. It crossed his mind to call out to Petunia, but he doubted that she would really want to bothered with such a simple question. He turned to leave, and the prince stopped him immediately. "Where are you going? On your knees and clean my slippers."
And then it hit home. Of course. This bastard wanted Jude to lick his slippers clean. What a nice little way for him to exercise his absolute control and humiliate Jude at the same time. He was just glad that it was him being put through it and not Luce. Jude slowly dropped to his knees and bent his head forward. With a tentative lick, he began washing the prince's fur slippers. They weren't dirty at all, and if he kept to the top, the taste wasn't awful. He tried to think of something else as he worked, some pleasant memory that would take him out of this place, but he couldn't focus past the rage that was building within him.
"Please, Your Highness, why are you doing this?" Luce asked.
"Because I can. Because I'm bored and this is mildly entertaining."
The prince let him go on for a couple more minutes before kicking him off as if he were a slobbering dog. The pain in his jaw was sharp and immediate, but Jude refused to let that show. He rose, bowed, and went back to his place. Like a good servant should do.
"Did you enjoy that? Would you rather it was you?"
Luce answered without a moment’s hesitation, "Of course I wish it had been me."
Oh, Luce, Jude thought, why did you say that?
"You know, I am an awfully magnanimous person and if that's what you want..." The price trailed off, considering what new task would amuse him. "Take off your dress."
"Please-"
"Take. It. Off."
Luce looked at Jude for just a second, and he couldn't bear to the mixture of shame and resignation that was written in her expression. Her eyes said I'm sorry and I love you. They said I will carry this through to the end, even though I know what's coming. Her hands shook as she began unpinning her hair, and the prince sat back down to watch with a smug smile. Her hair tumbled loose from its clips and she used it as a shield when she slid her arms from the dress, and it fell to her waist. She wore nothing beneath it, but her hair was managing to protect her modesty. Norrick reached forward and swept it out of the way. "Not bad, full, even, but I've seen better."
That was all it took. The rage that Jude had been pushing down boiled over and he was on Norrick before he even had a chance to think. Jude hauled him up by his vest and punched him in the face. He could vaguely hear Luce yelling in the background, but it wasn't about to stop him. All he wanted to do was make this little prick hurt, and every punch made him feel better. "Don't you ever talk to my sister again. Don't look at her, don't touch her, and don't even think about her."
Norrick tried to push him off, but Jude managed to get one last punch in before he felt multiple sets of hands pulling him off and throwing him to the ground. Four guards surrounded him, and they all had blades drawn at his throat. Norrick was breathing hard, his hair fell out of its braid and he spat blood on the ground. Luce was pulling her dress up and crying like her heart was broken. Jude realized at that moment that his temper had gotten him killed, and possibly Luce too. Since he had nothing left to lose, he spoke to her, "I'm sorry, Luce."
The blades moved forward and pressed on his windpipe, shutting off the ability to say anything more.
"Insolent fool. Do you think that you can lay hands on me? You're dead, fucking dead."
The blades moved away, and one guard stepped forward with his sword raised. Luce gasped and began to beg for his life, but Jude knew from the look in Norrick's eyes that there was going to be no mercy shown. The blade gleamed bright above him and he waited for the downward stroke, glad that at least he had died fighting for Luce.
"Stop!" A voice rang out.
Every head in the room turned towards it, and Jude saw a furious looking man stride forward. He looked so like Norrick that Jude could only assume that this was Prince Jonathan. As he came closer Jude cataloged the small differences in appearance. Jonathan was a little smaller, with a softer jaw and lighter eyes. Right now, those eyes were blazing.
"What is the meaning of this?" Every word fell from his lips like a spit of lava.
"Just having a little fun, brother, but my unruly servant here took it to heart. Now he's dead."
"And how dare you have one of my girls here? What have you done to her?"
"You don't enjoy your girls, so why shouldn't I?"
Jonathan moved forward with a growl. "If you've sullied her-"
"Relax, I had barely gotten a peak before her brother attacked me like an animal."
"And know you are going to kill him for protecting his sister from your ridiculous games?"
Norrick's skin darkened. "He hit me. I am a member of the royal family, brother, and he hit me. You know that this cannot stand."
Jude had been following the conversation back and forth, watching them like he was at a tennis match, but it finally seemed that Jonathon was at a loss for what to say. Because Norrick was right. Jude understood, that even though Norrick had begged for it, what he had done was unforgivable. Luce had stopped crying and was watching Jonathan with a look of desperation on her face. Jonathan saw it
too, and his face softened for a moment.
"Let him live and I will forget how grievously you've offended me today. We will keep this our little secret from mother."
"And I should just let him go unpunished?"
"No. Put him down in the pit, two months should be sufficient I think."
The Pit. It sounded harsh, but Jude understood that for some reason, this prince had just granted him tremendous mercy.
"No one has ever been in the pit for so long."
"Then it should satisfy you as a fitting sentence. And afterward, you can send him back to duty digging latrines."
Norrick jerked his chin at the guards and they put away their swords and hauled Jude to his feet. Luce took her last chance and grabbed his hand, squeezing hard. He returned the pressure and they had a split second of silent communication, sending love back and forth before Jude was led away. He hoped that she would go unpunished while he was away because he was now more determined than ever to find them a way home. But first, he had to face the pit, whatever it was.
Chapter Eight
Luce
Luce was left standing between the two brothers after hers had been led away. Her mind and her emotions were racing to process what had just transpired. Jonathan had saved Jude's life, there was absolutely no doubt in her mind, and it looked like he was also about to save her from his perverted brother.
"You are lucky to have such a delicious new girl. Such a ripe young thing."
Jonathan's face darkened, but he refused to give his brother the satisfaction of a response. There were a couple of tense seconds, in which Luce noted how different they were from one another. Norrick was very masculine, where Jonathan was a bit more of a pretty boy. There was a softness of jaw, a thinning of the nose and a lightening of the brow on Jonathan's side that set them apart. They were a stunning pair, but one of them was misogynistic, sadistic asshole, and that took away a lot from his other charms.