Deadly Lovers (The Prussia Series) (8 page)

“Prussia…” said Sebastian, shaking his head and covering his mouth, eyebrows raised in horror, “What has happened to you?”

“When?” I snapped, “When you left me alone with him or when I was only half a dozen feet from where you stood in the castle and he managed to drag me all the way back into here and break nearly every bone in my body and drink half of my blood before you showed up. I saved myself. Is that what you mean?
What has happened to me?
What
would
have happened to me if I wasn’t immortal? You weren’t here. It was just me and
him
,”

“But torture? Murder?” asked Sebastian, his hand motioning to the still smoldering piles of ash that had taken up residence in the metal chair, “This isn’t you…”

“I…” I wanted to slice him with my words, to cut him down with my words but he was right. I looked at the chair, streams of my blood trickling throughout the piles of warm ash. The floor was littered with streaks and streams and pools of blood, both mine and the Duke’s. I looked at my hands, dripping in blood. Some was mine, some wasn’t.

The door to the dungeon creaked. Both of us looked at the door to find John Campbell with a humble look on his face. He cleared his throat but didn’t make eye contact, looking instead at the floor with only a fleeting glance to Sebastian’s face, clearly worried.

“The Queen,” said John Campbell, “Would have a word with the Princess in her office, the office of the Chancellor,”

I looked from John, who wouldn’t make eye contact with me, to Sebastian, who continued to judge me with every passing second. I threw my hands up in the air in frustration before storming towards the dungeon door. John Campbell quickly moved out of the way and held the door open for me, his body going completely stiff and looking anywhere but my face. I looked back at Sebastian as I left and paused at the door.

“He would have killed me,” I said, “They all would have. If you recall…one of them did,”

Sebastian’s look of judgment melted off of his face. All I saw was pity. And I didn’t like it any better than the judgment. So I left, headed off to my office to find out what the Queen had planned, still dripping with the blood of the vampire that had once been referred to as
the Duke
.

My feet padded down the corridor to my office and with each step I found myself gritting my teeth harder. My anger and frustration grew, not just with Sebastian but with myself. He had made me look at myself, at what I had done with my own two hands, and I didn
’t like what I saw. The softness of the carpet, quieting each stomp that I landed into the plush surface, did nothing to calm my quiet fury. My rage continued to build until I finally reached my office door, closed with a single guard posted outside. He did a double take when he saw me approach. Before he had a chance to move to open the door, I was already through it.

“Her Highness, Princess Prussia, Royal High Chancellor,” said the guard that chased after me, his hand clinging to the door he hadn’t managed to open for me in time.

I stood several feet inside of my office and surveyed the company. It was the Queen, someone from her legal team leafing through one of the many law books that littered the floor, desk and bookcase, and then there was Robert. He stood perfectly relaxed with a smile on his face.

I starred at him, my breathing rasping from my lips as my mouth lay open,
and my teeth set on edge as I steeled myself to deal with him. He slowly turned with a stiff back and a politician’s smile. However he had prepared himself, whatever he had told himself or practiced, I could tell he wasn’t prepared enough for what his eyes eventually found. His mouth was ajar, his eyes widening visibly and his eyebrows shifting together. A cup fell to the floor and landed unscathed but with the contents emptied onto the plush carpeting I had come to hate.

I squared off my stance, facing Robert completely and ignoring everyone else. My arms hovered away from my frame, not touching my sides, the warm red liquid still escaping my body and trickling steadily though having slowed substantially. My body remained coated, caked, encrusted in my blood and the Duke’s. My arms were black with dried blood and red with the streaks of fresh blood, my own.

I had entered so quickly I hadn’t given anyone time to do anything more than react. I didn’t look at the Queen at all until I heard what I knew would be her tea cup being set roughly on top of my desk. She had been seated at my chair but must have stood when I had entered, possibly even startled.

Whether or not Queen Victoria had been startled when I came in, I could clearly see I had startled her in the end. Her lips were puckered, every wrinkle around her mouth pronounced and deep. I couldn’t tell if she disapproved of my entrance, my appearance, or just me in general.

Given a few seconds, the corners of the Queen’s mouth turned up and she came around the desk to me, her eyes squinting slightly as she smiled, and wrapped her arms around me in a close embrace. I blinked several times, wondering if I had imagined it as she began to pull away with a smile still on her face. I hadn’t imagined it. I would even go so far as to say she had
approved
.

“You smell…interesting,” murmured the Queen with a sideways glance at me, “This is Robert, whom I’m certain you have met. And he is here representing the rogue court of Queen Patricia, my estranged sister,”

I turned my attention entirely on to Robert and my eyes turned into very narrow, unforgiving slits, as I sized him up. He offered a hand out to me which I observed but didn’t accept.

“Now, Prussia,” said Queen Victoria, “We really must observe the niceties of war if we are to remain civilized,”

I hesitated. Robert’s hand was still outstretched to me but his face cringing as he looked at my arms, my hands, coated in black and red, the different stages of  torture on my arms. I slowly lifted my arm and held out my hand, feeling the trickle of blood dripping off of my fingertips, the glisten pulling Robert’s eyes too them.

“It’s fine-” offered Robert, pulling his hand back a fraction.

But I didn’t let his hand retreat. I grabbed his hand firmly. I squeezed Robert’s hand and pumped it several times. Even when I had stopped shaking his hand, I didn’t let go. I squeezed hard. I gritted my teeth and the whites of my eyes expanded as I considered the idea of justice for Robert. Could I be as strong as the Queen had been and recuse myself from that situation or would I jump at the opportunity?

I would like to think I would recuse myself. But just below that thought was the truth. It wouldn’t have been a stretch to have found me leaping at a chance to dish out a dose or two of justice to Robert, repaying kindness with like kindness and all.

Robert wrestled his hand away from mine and tried to rub it clean. The residual blood streaked the palms of his hands in crimson and black. The cringe was deep in his face as he looked at those streaks. He hadn’t wanted to shake my hand because he didn’t want to get dirty. He didn’t want to get blood on his hands. It made me snort as I stood there looking him over.

Robert looked at me sharply. I kept my same steady stare. I waited for him to challenge me, to question me, to be offended or insulted. But he didn’t say anything. He pulled a napkin out of his pocket and continued wiping his hands, as though I had inconvenienced and sullied his dignified hand. I rolled my eyes. How foolish had I been? How foolish was I to fall in love with such a man-boy? I looked to the Queen and watched her as she went back around my desk to sit on my chair, perfectly at home watching Robert and I interact.

“You’re aware that Princess Prussia is my heir to the throne?” asked the Queen, “Married to my grandson, Prince Sebastian?”

That got Robert’s attention which I found interesting. Robert glanced at me several times as he cleaned his hands, quick and brief. He nodded his head, acknowledging what the Queen said but he still didn’t say anything. My heart struck a funny chord as I realized why Robert was behaving so strangely, not speaking, avoiding eye contact, head lowered slightly. He was
scared
of
me.
I could hardly believe it. And I grinned from ear to ear as I continued to see his fear in every motion, movement, and moment of silence.

“You’ll have to excuse the Princess,” said the Queen with a hand wave in my direction and her gaze fixed on Robert, “she is not yet accustomed to transitioning from Judge, Jury, and executioner, into a more…diplomatic and
presentable r
ole in our court,”

Queen Victoria smiled and shook her head as if I had arrived ill-dressed for a social function and not covered in blood. Still, Robert mirrored Queen Victoria’s smile and nodded without a word. Even Queen Victoria appeared annoyed with the one sided conversation she was being forced to carry on with smiles and gestures. I saw her smile waver and heard the slightest of sighs.

“Robert is here on business, on behalf of Queen Patricia,” said Queen Victoria, “in an attempt to recover…assets in our court,”

“Is that what you call spies around here?” I asked, the smile still on my face and blood dripping from my fingertips hovering at my sides.

“Prussia,” warned the Queen.

“This is true,” said Robert, clearing his voice several times, “I’m here to collect Duke Rutlidge, most specifically, but will allow an opportunity for others of our court to return with me,”

“To collect and to allow,” I said, looking down at the corner of my desk, the beautiful wood highly polished and sealed with a high gloss finish. I let my finger trace patters along the sharp edges of the desk in the blood that still ran wet and red, “I think we’re well past simple niceties,”

“Prussia,” the Queen repeated my name but while her face said for me to stop, something in her look said she didn’t at all mind. And so I didn’t.

“Yes, well, times of war calls for bluntness,” said Robert, straightening up and looking at the Queen but still avoiding eye contact, “these are times of action and decision making. I hope that we can come to some common understandings, making decisions that will preserve our people while facilitating these games,”

“Action, decisions, and games,” I smiled, still tracing along the edges of the desk but glancing up several times as I spoke to look at the Queen. I must have started to feel too good. The pain had abated completely, only the occasional dull throb as I moved, and the more Robert spoke the more he brought a smile to my face. I couldn’t help but find the humor.

“Is she okay?” Robert asked, looking with concern to the Queen and back at me with his eyes bewildered and his face snarled up in revulsion.

“I’m fine,” I yelled, slamming my fist down on the corner of my desk as I leaned forward towards him, “I’m the image of good health,”

My fist left a bloody red splat on the corner. I wouldn’t have noticed but Robert’s eyes remained fixed on the splatter of blood as I continued to stare at his face, filled with shock.

“I - I -” he stammered.

“Spit it out,” I snapped at him.

I snapped my fingers in his face and watched as his entire body leaned back several inches in an attempt to avoid any bodily contact with me.

“I demand you produce the Duke at once,” said Robert, turning to the Queen.

I continued to wear my smile and push the splatter of blood I had made into little designs on the desk surface with my index finger. No one had a chance to fill them in on the happenings in the dungeon.

“Ask me who I’m wearing,” I instructed the Queen, suddenly excited, “Just like a red carpet show, ask me who I’m wearing!”

The Queen hesitated, the pause on her face telling me that clearly I might really have gone over the edge more than she had expected. But she regained her composure and her face became a blank slate as she asked, as instructed, who I was wearing.

“This evening, Princess Prussia has been outfitted in the best of tastes, the most popular and sought after,
Duke Rutlidge
!” I rattled off as if introducing myself for a red carpet event.

Robert blinked blankly at me and I smiled as I watched the blank slate of Queen Victoria’s facade result in a crack, a tiny uncontrollable smile, before reverting back to her slate-like-state.

“I demand the meaning of this,” said Robert, pointing his index finger violently towards the plush carpet and stomping his foot down with no effect whatsoever, “I demand the safe collection and return of all assets,”

“Don’t wag that tongue too quickly,” I murmured to Robert with a sidelong look, “They’re rather pliable and soft when it gets right down to it. Easily damaged, just ask the Duke,”

“The members of the court are waiting,” said the Queen, “They want answers as much as I do, Prussia,”

“I have all the answers I need,” I said, “And something a little bit better. A confirmed list,”

How foolish had I been? How foolish, indeed. I tried my best not to think of how madly in love with Robert I had thought I was. I had forgotten all the traits about him I had loved. I don’t know if he ever had any. Perhaps I had bestowed them on him each night I had sat up waiting for him, each night I had lay awake mourning him. Perhaps I had been blinded by my own desire not to be alone, to never be alone. It was much easier to see clearly when I knew I would never be alone again. My mind wandered to Sebastian and I couldn’t help but smile. But that wandering thought was interrupted.

“Will you gather them? I want to go now,” said Robert, his nose turning slightly up into the air.

I watched the Queen’s arms fold in front of her as she leaned back in my chair. I had a feeling that she was about to start laying a smack down on demands and orders being tossed around.

"You can take anyone
not
on my list," I said, bluntly.

“What list?” asked Robert, looking at my hands but seeing nothing but the blood dripping from my fingertips, a cringe casting shadows on the soft creases of his pale face.

“My list for treason against the crown and the court,” I snapped at him, making no move to stop the steady drip of blood streaming from my face, shoulder, the gaping wounds streaking my arms down my elbows and finger tips, into tiny blood soaked stains in the carpet on either side of me.

I could hear the muffled sound of the blood dripping off of me and onto the carpet on both sides of me and found it oddly soothing. I tried to hold on to my anger as I waited for Robert to say something. He looked at me with a wariness that made me uncomfortably self aware of every movement or lack of movement. I felt the tension rise as the silence continued, as though two dogs were about to riot over territory and dominance.