Royal Rebellion {on hold}

Chapter 2

"Forgive me father," I mumbled. I stood in father's office, in front of his desk, hanging my head in shame. Darrel stood beside father, his expression betraying nothing except the fact that he wanted me punished. He was just as bloodthirsty as father. He just wanted my blood.

"Such things have consequences, boy," father replied, his voice as cold as ice. I managed to lock my muscles before they could shiver.

"You were already seen as a failure. Now the court thinks you're weak." Father stood up, nearly slamming his hands on his desk. "Do you know who that reflects on? Me! You incompetent boy!"

I swallowed painfully. These words, these insults, were repeated time and time again, yet they hurt just as much every time. Darrel smirked smugly behind father's back, his eyes taunting.

"Give me your hand," father said suddenly quiet. He smiled cruelly "This requires punishment."

I took an automatic step back and and shook my head. My thoughts began to whir and spin. Not this. Not this. Not this.

With a flick of his chin so subtle I barely caught it, father signaled Darrell. In a flash, he was by my side and had an iron grip on my wrist. Caught off guard, I was too shocked to react before Darrel slammed my hand palm up on father's desk.

Just as fast, father grabbed a knife and stabbed it through my palm, impaling the knife point into the wood.

I yelled out and fell to my knees, using my right hand to clutch my left wrist as if that would ease the pain rolling up my arm in waves. I screamed again as he added a sharp twist of the knife then pulled it out.

"Let that be your warning, boy. I won't tolerate many more slip ups." Father swept past me, his dark cape billowing out, followed by Darrel on his heels. He silently laughed at my patheticness before leaving.

I slid to the floor, my blood dripping off the edge of the desk. I clutched my injured hand to my chest, my wound quickly weeping a large patch of red on my blouse shirt.

Gasping, I tried to fight the waves of pain and nausea and the dark clouds in my vision at the same time. Coupled with blood loss, I don't know how I managed to stand up and stumble to the door. Or how I made it to my room without anyone seeing which was as far from father's quarters as possible. (A.k.a. across the castle.)

I slumped against the door, exhausted from the events of the evening. My knees wobbled then gave out and I slid down the polished wooden door.

The door opened and I fell backwards onto the floor, rolling onto my side.

"Ju-Your highness!" Earl gasped, then hauled me into the room.

Through my half-lidded eyes, the room blurred when another wave of pain climbed up my arm, as I leaned against the side of an armchair by the fireplace. Waves of heat from the fire washed on my sweaty face and the room felt unbearably hot for a second.

Earls blurry form appeared, crouching in front of me. Concern was etched deeply across his face. Numbness was climbing up my arm. I grinned at him, watching the panic flash across his face.

"Did ya know tha hand haz the moz nerves in da body?" I slurred before everything tilted and went black.

◆◇◆◇◆

Groaning, I peeled open my heavy eyelids. I blinked up at the satin canopy of my bed, disorientated and groaned again. Earl was by my side in an instant.

"Wuz happened?" I asked as I remembered what had occurred. I struggled to sit up, lightheadedness spinning my vision.

Earl tried to push me back onto the bed.

"Julian, don't get up!" I gave up under his insistent movements and slumped back onto the bed. I groaned again and rolled to my side, my right hand clutching my head.

"Are you alright? Does your head hurt?" Earl rained questions down on me. I flung my legs off the bed and sat up, despite his protests.

"I'm fine. I probably just passed out from the pain. The hand does have the most nerves in the body." I grinned sideways at him, but he still wasn't convinced. I winced as both my hand and head gave a twinge of pain. Glancing down at my injured hand, I saw that it was wrapped heavily in gauze. My hand throbbed slightly under the bandages but Earl must have put something on it to numb the pain. He also must have changed me out of my bloody shirt because I was no longer wearing it.

"Now, Julian, you must rest," Earl sighed but he made no move to make me.

A knock on the door to my quarters sounded. Earl went to open it and came back with a piece of heavy parchment. It was a message to me. My name was written in a handwriting I would know anywhere. It was my father's. My hand suddenly didn't want to cooperate and I fumbled the letter when Earl gave it to me. He caught it and popped the wax seal before handing it back to me.

I stared at the sheet in disbelief. This was most definitely a test. Father knew I hated whenever someone else was involved. He liked to say it raised the stakes.

"Julian?" Earl tilted his head to the side, surveying my face. I silently handed him the paper and waited as he read it.

Earl's eyebrows furrowed. "Seems like a test."

"I know Earl. I know." I kept seeing the servant girl being whipped in the middle of the ballroom yesterday and I shuddered automatically.

Another knock on the door sounded and this time, I followed Earl out of my bedroom, past the sitting room and to the door of my quarters. Behind the door stood two guards. They both bowed respectfully when they saw me behind Earl, one more than the other.

One of them, the one I recognized as fathers personal guard, Alvrin, shoved the servant girl roughly into the room. She stumbled and straightened herself as best as she could while trying to hide the immense pain she was in. I almost asked her if she was alright when I saw father's guard watching me intently.

"You know what to do with her." The voice of father's guard rang out in the tense silence. I searched her face, seeing only a blank slate and deep hatred in her eyes. Swallowing, I didn't want to do this, but if I didn't do it right, father would hear of this. The words of his note rang in my head.

Set her in her place and do it right or there will be consequences for both of you. I will be watching.

I wiped my face of emotion as best as I could and I made my voice as cold as I could.

"Is that how you address your prince?" I asked coldly. The anger hidden in her eyes seemed to increase tenfold but she curtsied anyways. I winced internally as I imagined how bad the wounds on her back would stretch.

"Forgive me, your highness," she nearly spat, pain edging her tone. I quickly glanced at father's guard, hoping they would go.

The girl trembled, still half-bowed. Alvrin regarded me one last time before he turned to Earl.

"Come with me." Earl nodded his head respectively and followed Alvrin and the guard down the hall. Their footsteps faded with every second. As the door swung closed I started at the sound of an object shattering. Before I could turn, I felt a sharp edge biting into my throat.