The Crown

Chapter Thirty Four

"What more do you want from me?" Marcus roared, his palm against his forehead. 

Evelyn crossed her arms and looked away. 

Marcus paced in the bedroom, clenching and unclenching his fists. "You are tormenting me with your silence!"

"You have tormented me with your actions!" she countered. "You have broken the agreement we made to not get directly involved with their relationship!"

"Nevertheless, we have come to the same desired outcome!" he yelled. "He is ready to continue the engagement with Princess Lauren!"

Evelyn laughed in disbelief. "Have you no shame? The poor girl has only just been buried mere hours ago!" she scoffed, shaking her head. "Did you not see her parents in the crowd? Do you not see how many lives you have destroyed?!"

Marcus closed his mouth, recalling the brief memory in which he had glanced over to the Prior parents. Much like his reaction to Tobias' cries, the King found himself unable to relate to a man crying over another. Not even one's own child.

"What's done, is done," he said slowly. 

"And here we stand with the blood of an innocent girl on our hands," she spoke, staring at him.

"Why must you insist on dwelling in the past? Let us not waste our time arguing over the next step we should or should not have taken-"

"The next step would be to fire her, not to kill her."

"I did not-" Marcus pressed his lips together, controlling his anger and nearing exposure of his lies. "What more do you want from me?"

"I want you to leave," she said truthfully. "I want you to step down and meet the same fate you forced upon Miss Prior."

He stepped back, hurt by her words. Who knew their marriage would see the day where his wife would blatantly wish for his death to his face.

Evelyn scoffed and reached for the door when Marcus came from behind, grabbing her wrist. Startled, she turned to him, their faces too close for comfort. He held her wrist tighter, unable to find the words he longed to tell her.

She glanced at his eyes and noticed the fear in them; He is afraid, for he has lost his power over everyone here, she thought to herself, amused. He can no longer threaten our son with Beatrice's safety because, now, Tobias has nothing left to protect. He can longer threaten me with my son's title because he has already taken the one thing that mattered most to Tobias. 

Marcus gripped her wrist further, yet also stroked her skin with his thumb. "You are my wife," he told her.

She stared at him and reached for his hand, pressing her own against his. "I am his mother."

He let go, and Evelyn took the opportunity to turn away and leave the bedroom. Marcus stumbled back, glancing at the mirror in front of him. He shivered at the sight, unable to recognize himself. 

Where was the once ruthless, power-craven King? How had he turned into a hated husband and father with innocent blood stained on his hands for the Family to see?

Marcus clenched his fists and turned away, his mantle flowing behind him. He rushed down the steps into the cellar - the only place he seemed to want to think.

He stopped at the sight of the prisoner, seemingly just having been awoken by the commotion. Beatrice looked up at the King in silence, much used to him pacing around in front of her to think. Most times he did not utter a word to her and, on the rarest and most uncomfortable occasions, he sat in his chair and stared at her.