Scorn and Devotion

Chapter 50

Warnings - mentions of incest, negligent parent, abusive parent, burning someone alive, fighting with magic, mind control, trying to force people to marry, mentions of memory wiping, accusing someone of being crazy, lies, manipulation, attempted murder, mentions of arson, mentions of blaming an innocent person for murder, mentions of kidnapping.

I watched Timothée's shaking hand reach up to knock on the door of his father's chambers. We stood hand in hand, ready for the inevitable blow up. The Guards who lived in the chambers before the King's, was who answered the door.

"Who goes there?" Asked the knight.

"Tell the king his son, the Prince, asks to speak with him."

The guard pulled back. I noticed Timothée's chest was rising and falling rapidly. I stood on tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek before the guard came back. His breathing calmed ever so slightly, and he gave me a grateful look.

"The King says you may come in," the guard had returned. I went with Timothée through the Knight's chambers into the much more grand quarters of the King. Everything was either gold or silver, and the bed was large enough for a family of five to sleep comfortably. I'd never been in the King's room before, it was grander even than Timothée's.

The king sat up in bed, his steely grey eyes filling with anger as he noticed I was with Timothée and that our fingers were intertwined.

"What is the meaning of this?" The king demanded.

"Father, I have chosen my bride," Timothée said confidently.

"No, please, don't tell me," the King's skin has turned a sickly green. I felt like I wanted to sink into the ground. Was I really so repulsive to him?

"Father, like I told you all those years ago, I am in love with Y/N and I want to marry her. She is part of this competition, and it is my right to choose her, which is all I've ever wanted."

"No!" Gilderoy cut Timothée off with a strangled cry.

"No, no, no, this can't be happening," the king wailed. "Orlaith said she wouldn't let this happen."

The king was pleading as if he were about to go mad. He looked so deranged I almost missed the mention of my mother's name.

"What has Orlaith got to do with this?" I demanded.

"She is your mother!" He pointed at me accusatoryly. "But she is also Timothée's mother! You two disgusting, fiends, are half-siblings!"

"Father," and the pure disgust in Timothée's voice was something I'd never heard before. Over these past weeks I'd seen him go through horrid, disturbing, and grotesque things, but he had never looked as repulsed as he did now.

"What a loathsome lie."

"Son, I'm so sorry, but I do not bear false witness to you now," Timothée's father said, his eyes drooping with the heaviness of sorrow and shame.

"Your mother was a wonderful woman, but she was barren. When she died we lied and said she had died during childbirth. The kingdom requires an heir, lest it be given over to another family. We were vulnerable. I knew Lilianna was weak, and this might happen. So, I struck up a deal with someone I felt I could trust, just in case my worst fears were true. Orlaith offered herself in trade for a home at the palace. Soon after she was pregnant again and y/n was the result. I always thought this was the reason the two of you were so close, you must've known you shared the same mother."

"This is impossible," Timothée raged, but I felt a roaring storm begin in my gut. I thought of how Timothée shared the same sharp features as my mother. He was all angles, whereas I was softer looking, like my father. Timothée also had the dark curls that Orlaith kept long and glossy. We both had green eyes, though he leaned more towards brown and mine to blue. Was it possible? Was he my half-brother? It couldn't be, there had to be some internal instinct that would have cowed at the thought of being intimate with him if he were truly my flesh and blood. He had been inside me, and not once had it felt wrong or unnatural.