Alexandria: The Rebel Princess

Chapter 13 - Part 1

Jeremy allowed the tents cloth to drape closed and Chloe's emerald eyes haunted with worry is cut from my view. A heavy sigh rumbles through my chest. Jeremy pats my shoulder as he passed, his sympathy tingling through our connection.

"Well?" Chadwick barked, "Has it been done?"

Turning around, I faced my father who stood dominantly now. A squeezing dread wrenched on my gut. The hairs on my head stood anticipating the danger and I racked my hand through the scruffy mess, trying to rid myself of the feeling. "No father," I mutter.

My father shook his head in utter disappointment. He couldn't bear to look at me as he glared angrily towards Jeremy. "Care to explain, Jeremy?"

I sighed, watching Jeremy straighten powerfully, showing his true age to us. Jeremy acted like a carefree youthful man though he was decently, half a decade older than I. This reason alone was why Chadwick riskily set me as his charge.

His blue eyes swirled with such a noble power inside them, something that had long been forgotten with his careless froliking in women's beds.  "Neither of us believe it is the right time, Chadwick. Under my monitoring, I have seen her warming up nicely to Tristan." Chadwick scraped his hand across his scarred face frustrated with what Jeremy said. "Chadwick, it will happen, I can guarantee it."

Chadwick slammed his knuckles into the small table beside him. "You imbecile," he seethed in a whisper, "I could care less how traumatized she is, this is war! A minor whimper from her is the least of your worries, do not forget that. I expected better from you Jeremy. Did you forget that I sent you to ensure that this pathetic excuse of an heir didn't let his emotions get in his way?" Chadwick shot a stretched out finger towards me and I glared at the floor in anger. Chadwick took thunderous steps towards me, "Have you not forgotten my warnings child?"

I clenched my fists at my side holding back this dire urge to take him in my hand and beat him bloody. "I have not forgotten, father," I spat disgustedly, "she is still my betrothed, though."

He dryly laughed mockingly at me, "Yes, a betrothed who has yet to lay with you." He grasped my shoulders and stared into my eyes. "Do not be a fool. She is of the same blood as her mother, and one wrong move from us will have another man's child as her kingdom's heir." He snarled in disgust, his eyes subconsciously shifting to Jeremy for a split second.

My jaw clenched tightly, and I grind out my words, "She has been laying by my side at every moment. No one will touch her."

"Really?" He lifts a brow, releasing me from his tight reprimanding hold and smirks. "Because if you are incapable of succeeding in this family I will ensure someone else does."

I grabbed the cuff of his shirt and stepped dangerously close to him. "Don't you dare lay a hand on her!"

He laughed glancing down amusingly towards his shirt fisted into my hand. "Boy, I will do far worse to her, I promised you that already, and yet you have failed to produce an heir."

Jeremy grabbed my hand prying it from Chadwick. "Tristan stop," he hissed warningly. Letting go of my poor excuse of a father, Jeremy shoved me back and stood before him protecting me. "Chadwick, please, I have allowed him to take the lead. Let me step in and ensure his success." Jeremy dared not bow or submit to Chadwick, just held a strong uncharacteristic stare with him.

Chadwick clenched his teeth, snarling silently at the disloyalty that Jeremy expressed. "He has by tonight." Spinning around he tossed a chair to the floor in frustration. "Tie her kicking body down for all I care!"

"Yes sir," Jeremy slightly nods his head in submission.

I saw red. Pure anger ripped out of my lungs at his last words, "You-"

Jeremy shoved my back and seethed, "Leave!"

My heart pulsed with surprise and I stumbled back. Chadwick grabbed his cup from the table and took a swig slamming it down on the table before glaring at me. "I do not condone anymore of this insolence." A dark smirk tugged at his lips. "I'm starting to see why your mother disowned you."

Shoving Jeremy to the side, he grabs my arm, quickly wrapping it into a painful hold behind my back. "You're going to bring her into all this?" I heave through the pain. "Why don't you explain what really happened then. Maybe the fact that she gave me up might be because my father was a known criminal! She's a noble, they weren't embarrassed by me but you," I screamed hatefully.

Memories of my mother who once loved me fluttered through my thoughts. The same woman who I ran to in hopes of rescuing Chloe at the ball. Her brother, my uncle, looked sympathetically at my bloodied face. It was a shame what I had become in their eyes, just a criminal that neither of them could find the courage to rat out. He introduced me to the men who organized the festivities for the ball and with schemes and training, I was able to get into the castle thanks to them, not my father. The closest I'd ever been to some type of success. They helped me out of pity and nothing more, it was clear. I was a sorry excuse of a man damaged by his father's guidance.

"She was easy like every noble before her," he spat bemused. He had no care for my mother, he had no care for Claire. What he cared for was still a mystery to me all these years later. Power? Control? Revenge? For what? Why did he hate the king so terribly? Claire was a commoner, and my mother a noble. 

"Her father was smart enough to distance her from you," I growled.

Chadwick waves his hand dismissively, glaring at the table in front of him. Jeremy tugged me away, my back arching awkwardly and I struggled against this traitors hold. "To hell with you both," I screamed as Jeremy shoved me towards the tent's exit. I glared hatefully at my father, with Jeremy standing boldly before me, his arms crossed. His loyalty was always faithfully with my father, and why, I never understood. "Jeremy's no different than me, you know! He is just as much a bastard as I am, but I'm your blood," I spat at the man that was pitted against me though I saw him as the closest friend imaginable. 

"Maybe I made the wrong decision in which child to acknowledge," he ground his teeth and threw his cup. Liquid spread across the ground and the cup was caught by the tent's cloth walls, tumbling down with my dread.

Which child? Chadwick had another heir? Jeremy glanced back at Chadwick anxiously and shoved me for the exit. "Get out," he hissed.

It was him. All along, I had a brother and he waited in the shadows. The hidden shame of the late Queen Katherine, of course my father couldn't have legitimized him, he was the Harris' families secret. Katherine would have been preparing to court with Thaddeus, the prince at the time, and here my father was, merely a vassal. She was destined for greater things and my father was sworn to secrecy. Had this been what this whole civil war is really over? His love for Queen Katherine and not Chloe's mother? Jeremy's eyes were wide watching me slowly piece it all together. They were both in on it together, my father only wants revenge on his King for stealing another woman from him and Jeremy allowed me to fail our father, seeking the crown for himself.

"You knew," I seethed. Betrayal lands heavily over me. Jeremy's cold eyes haunting me from my shadows. "All this time, you have just been waiting for me to screw up so you can take my place?" My chest pounded loudly, trying to contain my angered heart.

Jeremy looked back at our father anxiously. "Tristan get out of here," he hissed with a plead. I took a daring step forward and Jeremy gulped with shame. "Damnit," he bit out.

"You can't have her, she can't even stand you," I scream, shoving my finger against his chest.

His blue eyes flashed with anger. "I'd have the good sense to get drunk and bed her whether my mind allowed for it or not. Do your job as his heir for once. I can only fix so many of your screw ups," he spat in a whisper.

"Well brother," I grumbled in disgust, "I'll be by the ale when you're done worshipping our pathetic excuse of a father." Turning my back I stormed from the tent, swinging the cloth out of my way with haste and stomped away to drown my sorrows.