The Prince and the Slave: Book Three

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

"Long live King William"

His Mother's words hit him like a boulder to his stomach. The air was knocked out of his lungs and his vision started to blur. He thoughts were a whirlwind he couldn't comprehend, and even before he could fully process the meaning of the words he found himself running from the room.

He tore down corridor after corridor, bursting through door after door until he eventually felt what must be cool air on his face. He rested his hands on something solid in front of him and screwed his eyes closed, waiting for the world to stop spinning.

Both Abey and the Queen looked after William as he raced from the room, too quick for them to react straight away.

"Go after him." The Queen said softly to Abey after a pause, a strange warmth in her voice.

Abey nodded and took one last look at the King's now peaceful features. Lying so still in his wife's arms, he could almost just be asleep. She slowly stood, tearing her eyes away and moving towards the door, too preoccupied with the events of the last few minutes to be surprised by Georgiana, who stood silent in the doorway, her mouth slightly open in shock and her cheeks shining with tears, staring at the man who had been her Father for most of her life.

She moved silently into the room, almost gliding, not paying any attention as Abey passed her. As Abey left the room, quietly closing the door behind her, she could hear Georgiana's anguished sobs, and felt her heart almost break.

It took her a while to find William, she checked everywhere she thought he would be - his chambers, the kitchens, the rose garden, the leafy corridors - and was surprised to find him on the balcony of a reception room she passed by chance, his knuckles white as he gripped the balustrade, the tension evident in his shoulders and his eyes tightly shut.

She swallowed nervously as she approached him, gently placing her hands on his rigid shoulders, rubbing them comfortingly as she felt him relax slightly.

He sighed deeply as he turned around to face her, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair.

"What am I going to do?" He murmured, his whole body sagging, allowing himself to rest on Abey as she returned his embrace.

She was silent for a minute as she tried to think of an answer. They had only just returned, they had cut themselves off from the world for so long they had no clue what had changed since they left, and now William's father was dead, his only heir his son. William, whether coronated yet or not, was King of Angrokor. Abey could only think of one thing he could do.

"Make your Father proud." She said, trying not to let the words catch in her throat. William sighed again, only sounding happier this time, putting his hand under her chin to lift her eyes to his.

"I love you. More than you can possibly fathom." He said simply, before leaning down and gently pressing his lips to hers. He kissed her, letting all his anxieties and questions of the future fade, knowing that as long as she was with him, as long as he could hold her like this always, he could do anything.

Eventually, he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed but now frowning. New anxieties and questions had just come to him.

"Tell me what happened to you." He whispered, Abey only just able to hear what he said.

"William," She sighed, frustrated he would bring it up at a time like this. "Your Father's just passed. You're hurting. Don't make me hurt you more by telling you those things. Soon, I will, I promise. But not now, it isn't the right time-"

"No. It's exactly the right time." William interrupted, leaning away to look at her weary face. "I know what you tell me will not be pleasant, I don't expect not to be affected by it. But let today be a day of my total heartbreak. Let me have one day to be the worst of my life, then tomorrow, I can start again. I can begin to pick up the pieces without fear of something worse being around the corner. Please."

He stared into her eyes, his gaze boring into hers as Abey felt her resolve melt. He was right. It was time to tell him everything.

"Okay." She whispered, "but not here." She took hold of his hand gently led him through the castle and out into the gardens, leading him through the grounds until they came upon the river and the tree they used to while away their stolen hours together.

Happy there was no-one around to overhear, Abey sat on the ground, leaning her back against the trunk of the tree, holding her knees close to her chest, William sitting opposite her a few feet away. He could tell from the way she was sitting she didn't want him too close.

Abey took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Then she told him everything.

She told him of the men discovering she was a slave at the markets, of being knocked out and awoken in a windowless carriage. She told him of the dark journey, and the way she was dragged back into the light. She told him of the mansion yard and the old hag with her shears, of how she had been saved at the last moment by her new Master, how he had put her in the bare, stone cell. She told him of the people she met there, of Noah and Number 9 and the almost silent, nameless man that had cared for her.

She told him of the hope she had tried to hold in the cell, of how she had tried to keep the belief he was still looking for her alive. She told him of her valuation, of how from that point she became hollow inside. She told him of the Special Auction, of the way she was sold for such a price like a piece of fine art or antique furniture.

She told him of Sir Jameson, of why he bought her. She told him of the way he treated her, and of the kind slave that had kept her sane. She told him of her plan when he had come to the house, of how close he had been to finding her. She told him of the beating she received, and of her rescue and escape at the hands of the kind slave. She told him of seeing him, of finding him again, and no longer feeling hollow.

Through the whole of her story, William never said a word. By the time she was finished, his eyes were dry, any tears left to spill already spent in the minutes previously.

He said nothing as he crawled forward, pulling Abey into his arms and holding her tight to his chest.

"Thank you." He whispered.

"I'm sorry. I should have told you all sooner but I just didn't know how to say it, how to explain it all." She replied, a catch in her voice.

"And I didn't know how you'd react, whether you'd still love me after you knew or-"

William's lips were on hers before she could finish, gentle but demanding. Abey couldn't help but gasp at the sudden passion between them, and deepened the kiss as William slowly lay her down, proving to her just how much he loved her as the sun slowly began to set behind them.