𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰'𝓼 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮

Chapter Thirty-Six: A Father

"No dear," he paused, pushing against me, and shoving me onto the bed, where he lied on top of me and pinned my wrists, "I know I'm the dominant one in this relationship."

He began kissing my neck again, and chills raced down my spine as they got lower and lower, until his mouth was on my stomach and I let out a soft whimper.

"Are you alright?" he pulled away momentarily, concerned.

"Yes, yes, I'm alright." I nodded hastily.

"Good..." he paused, "I love you."

"I love you more." I whispered as he continued leaving a trail of soft kisses on my warm skin.

I never thought I'd love or trust someone enough to do with them what George and I did that evening... To make love. But we did, and it was amazing. When we'd finished, we fell asleep in each other's arms, and I couldn't have been happier, or more satisfied. I'd finally done what Marie had wanted me to all those years ago. I'd found the one who made my life fulfilling; worth living. I closed my eyes, the last thing I saw being the face of the man I loved. My King; George.

A tapping sound at the balcony pulled me out of my sleep early in the morning; so early that the sun hadn't yet risen. I got out of bed, concerned that some injured animal might be out there, begging for help. I hastily threw on a robe, before twisting the knob of the balcony, a soft creak that broke the silence. I looked around, finding a rope hanging over the rail of the balcony. I looked down, finding the rope stretched all the way to the ground. Suddenly, the sound of a gun cocking sent a jolt through my veins, as the cool metal of a pistol pressed against my head.

I slowly backed away from the balcony rail, my hands raised in surrender, and my back facing the mysterious person.

"Rosalie Alcott." the person's familiar voice said tauntingly.

I cautiously turned around, to find that the man at the other end of the pistol was none other than Jerome.

"I am terribly sorry to crash a royal wedding, but see, Christain and I, we missed the first one, and still have some unfinished business to attend to..." he said, gesturing to the room, where George slept soundly.

"Over my dead body." I spat.

"That was the plan, my dear." he smirked.

"What in the hell do you have against him anyway? Are you another escaped convict that has it out for the King because he punished you lawfully?" I asked.

"Lawfully?" he froze, "There's nothing lawful about what that bastard did to me...Or my family."

I cocked an eyebrow, willing him to continue. I would just have to explain to him that it was a misunderstanding, or that it was deserved, or justified... There was no way George would have done something this bad, to make Jerome heart set on killing him.

"My wife... My little girl... He took them. Killed them. I never got to say goodbye." tears welled in his eyes, and I furrowed my brow, confused.

"I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding..." I said

"A misunderstanding?" he said without emotion, before switching to a crazed and angry growl, "My wife and my baby are dead, and you chalk it up to a misunderstanding!? You bitch!" he shouted, holding the gun to my forehead.

He froze, when George's weary figure appeared on the balcony, hands raised in surrender as he slowly made his way between Jerome and I.

"You're Jerome, I presume?" he spoke softly and cautiously.

"Typical of you, not to remember the names of those poor souls whose lives you ruined. Though I'm sure there are far too many to even count." he spat venomously.

"Ruined? How did I ruin your life?" George frowned.

"It was only a little harmless fun. And we were drunk, my wife and I. That noble was asking for a beating when he touched her. He got what he deserved when my Helen bashed his face with a bottle. But of course, the assault of a noble warrants the death penalty for common folk like my family and I. You killed my wife." the pistol shook violently in Jerome's unsteady hand, as he shouted, "And what the fuck is a man to do but turn to alcohol? I lost my job because of that, beat my daughter every day. Every damn day. Because of you. And then, of course, like the ruthless leader you are, you tried to extort money from the commonwealth. And again, because of you, I didn't have the money to pay it, so I did what anyone would do. I ran. And when I came back, a few weeks later-" his voice cracked, "When I came back, my girl was gone. Arrested, I'd thought. So I paid a visit to the castle, and you know what I found?" he looked at me, "You know what your husband did?"

I looked at George, confused, and he looked back at me, equally confused.

"He had my daughter killed. A child. Because I didn't pay my damn taxes, because my wife was dead and I couldn't find work. Because of you." he yelled at George, whose face had dropped as though he'd just realized something.

"You don't underst-" George tried to speak but was cut off by Jerome.

"Shut up." he whispered, before repeating it again in a shout, "Shut up you piece of shit!" once again, Jerome had raised his pistol, but was instead pointing it at me, a sadistic grin on his face, "You killed my wife and child. So now, I'll kill your wife, right in front of your eyes. Then I'll kill you. And then I'll finally put myself out of my misery." he laughed as he said this, trailing the gun first over my head, then George's, and lastly his own, before turning it back on me.

"Listen-" George tried again, but was silenced.

"You must be so scared right now. Just like my baby girl, my wife." Jerome twitched, cocking the gun, and aiming it firmly at my head.

"Please." George begged.

"You resemble exactly what I'm sure my daughter looked like before you killed her. She must have begged, but you had no mercy to spare for her, so why should I spare any for you?" he paused for long and tense moment, before addressing me, "And you. I'm doing you a favour. Giving you an out from this cruel and unforgiving world."

I sucked in a deep breath, and George grasped my hand, pulling me close to him, so that we were both in the line of fire, Jerome's target indistinguishable.

"Besides George, I'm taking mercy on you. I'm allowing for you to say goodbye. So go ahead. Say goodbye." Jerome said, "One last time."

I looked to George who had tears in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry." George said, leaning his head on my own as he continued to embrace me as close as he could, "Don't look at him, look at me. Just me. I love you."

"I love you too." I said, as a tear escaped from the corner of my eye.

"Dad!" a voice shouted, but before any of us could process it, the sound of the gunshot rang out.

I immediately tore my eyes away from George, focusing on the scene before me. Jerome sunk to the ground, his hands covered in blood as they shakily dropped the gun. He screamed when he saw what he'd done. And then I saw her. She intercepted the shot, and now lay in a pool of her own crimson blood. Jerome's daughter; it'd been her all along.

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