“Ella, stop,” I demand, but I’m the one who can’t stop.
She looks up at me, confusion shining in her eyes, and I know I’ve betrayed the war inside my head. She can see how she’s affecting me. When I rear back with a ragged breath, the ice fortress I’ve built around me freezes her out again. Nobody gets inside. Not even her.
“Eat your goddamn lunch.” I stagger away from her and head for the door. When I slam it behind me, I collapse against the wall outside, trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.
15
Thorsen
Restlessness breeds with every passing second of the afternoon as Hayes shuttles me from one royal obligation to the next. Meetings, tea appointments, agendas to discuss. It never ends. And when he tells me that my father would like to meet with me, my blood pressure skyrockets.
“What for?” I demand.
Hayes blinks as if he can’t imagine how I could ever question the king’s requests. “I’m not certain. But he asked that you come now.”
The threat is left unspoken. There will be consequences if I don’t go. Consequences I’m not prepared to deal with. If I don’t show up, my father isn’t above sending a pair of royal guards to drag me to the palace to present me before him. This is just one way he likes to remind everyone he’s in control. He’s the king, and whatever he says, we all must do. For thirty years, he’s controlled my life. And I’m officially fucking over it. But every time I consider the alternative, I think of my mother.
Hayes signals for the driver to take us to the palace, and I lean my head against the seat and imagine Ella back at my estate. Locked in her room, naked and waiting for me. I picture her on her knees, worshiping me, and for one second, I can pretend that it isn’t all fake.
For one blissful second, I can even admit that it felt real. When she looked up at me, so innocent and uncertain, I saw something in her eyes I’m convinced I’ve never seen before. She wanted to please me. Not for the money. Not because I’m using her for my own twisted purposes. But because there’s something so inherently good in her, it feels like she can see right through me.
Delusion. That’s what it is. She’s doing this because I’m a sick fuck who saw the first opportunity to capitalize on her, and I took it. I would be a fool to believe otherwise, and it’s something I can’t even consider. Two months. That’s what we have together. Two months to use her and wring every ounce of pleasure out of her until I let her fly away. It’s the only way this can ever work.
The car pulls to a stop, and a guard opens our doors. Hayes walks beside me, silent, ensuring that he delivers me to my father’s office just as he said he would. The palace is quiet today, and I wonder if my mother is entertaining Lavinia and her sniveling relations elsewhere. It’s a notion that makes me irrationally angry, considering how frail she already is. I don’t want her spending time with them. I don’t want her getting attached to women who are merely attempting to scheme their way into the palace. But I also know my mother sees the best in everyone. That’s the only way she’s managed to stay married to my father for all these years.
“Enter,” my father commands after Hayes knocks and announces our presence.
“I’ll wait for you in the parlor.” Hayes bows and dismisses himself as I open the door and step inside.
My father is at his desk, and his face is pinched as he studies the document in front of him. I take a seat across from him, waiting silently for several moments before he finally spares a glance at me.
“I’ve rescheduled some of your engagements for the coming weeks,” he says.
“Why?” I stare back at him with dead eyes.
“I want you to focus on your guests,” he decrees. “Specifically, Lavinia. You will have three dates with her each week. This is non-negotiable.”
My jaw flexes so hard my teeth ache. “No.”
“No?” My father arches a brow at me. “Do you forget who you’re speaking to?”
“I know exactly who I’m speaking to.” I challenge him. “And I refuse to spend time with that woman. She is a liar, and a schemer—”
“As are all the women you will encounter in your position,” he cuts me off. “You need to learn to make the most of it.”
“You speak of things which you can’t possibly understand. My mother was never like that.”
“Your mother and I married out of duty, and you will do the same. I have given you ample time to find a partner, and I refuse to wait any longer.”
“You fail to understand that I haven’t found a partner because I don’t want one.”
“Enough.” He slams his fist down onto the desk, rattling the contents on top of it. “I will not be challenged on this, Thorsen. You have an obligation to this family, and your country, to set an example. It’s far past time you settle down and show the world you are capable of committing to your royal obligations and a marriage. Your image of a brooding, miserable bastard can no longer be tolerated by me or the media.”
“And if I refuse? What then? Will you dress Calder up and parade him around for the masses instead? Find him a wife? Or perhaps you’ll suggest that Lavinia is perfectly suited to him as well?”
“You want to know what happens if you refuse?” he snarls. “I will forbid you from the palace grounds, and your mother will be none the wiser. I will cut off all contact between the two of you, and she will spend the last of her days wondering how her son turned out to be so pathetic—”
I launch myself across the desk before I can consider the consequences of my actions, and when my fist smashes into his face, it feels cathartic. For all of two seconds, until he slams me back onto the desk and returns three solid blows himself. I take them, not because I respect him, but because I know I always have to let him win. If I don’t, he’ll make my life hell.
As I peel myself up off the desk and we glare at each other in the aftermath, I don’t doubt for a second that he’ll do exactly as he said. My father controls every employee in this palace and every member of our family. If he were to ban me from the grounds, I’d have no recourse to see my mother. And I’d sooner die a slow, miserable death than allow her for one second to believe I wasn’t there for her in these final months.
“Three dates a week with Lavinia.” The king hurls the words out, breathless. “And you will marry her if it’s the last declaration I make. She will be a suitable partner, someone the people can respect, which is more than I can say for you.”
He fails to add that he’s already excavated her entire background and unearthed everything there is to know about the woman, including her bloodline. After all, it would never suit to have a Lykken married to someone without merit.
“Three dates.” I reiterate the words that will continue to haunt me. “For Mor.”
16
Ella
My fingers graze the length of the whip hanging on the wall, and I study it with uncertainty. It appears to be hung for decorative purposes, but could it be possible that he intends to use it on me? Will he want to use any of these things on me?