Chapter 7
10 years later
William plucked an olive from the food tray on the table before him. He leaned back with a contented sigh, grateful for being alone, in his chambers, where no one would think of looking for him.
“Father? Are you here?”
William growled low in his throat as his youngest daughter pushed the door to his sanctuary, peeked in, and then approached cautiously. “What is it, Brianna?”
He stuck the olive between his teeth, then pulled it in his mouth with a sucking motion of his tongue, savouring the bitter taste of it. He truly hated the taste of olives, but so did his wife and it repulsed her when he ate some. And so he did, frequently.
William studied Brianna as she stood before him, wringing her hands, looking uncomfortable. Out of his four daughters, Brianna, at sixteen-years old was the one who resembled him the most. Unlike her sisters who bore a striking resemblance to their mother with their pale blonde hair and brown eyes, Brianna had his dark brown hair and clear blue eyes. While Brianna was tall, her sisters were petite.
“Speak up, child!”
Startled, Brianna stopped fidgeting and stammered, “I- Father, may I visit the Earth realm tomorrow with my sisters?”
He plucked a piece of strong cheese this time. “No.”
Brianna fisted her hands and William was briefly amused by her show of temper. “Why not? Mother said . . .”
In a heartbeat, William was up and moving; faster than an inhaled breath, he swung his hand and slapped his daughter across the face. She went flying, dropped to the floor and finally skidded to a stop several feet further.
She immediately tried to get to her knees while gently touching her face to make sure she hadn’t lost any teeth or broken any bones. She was whimpering softly as she trembled, unable to bear her weight on her bruised knees.
He stalked over to her, flipped her around with a powerful kick to her abdomen, then knelt beside her, making sure to breathe his olive-filled breath on her. “I do not need to justify myself to you, child. I said no, end of story.” He enunciated the words with exaggerated care to make himself perfectly understood. “Your mother has no say where you and your sisters are concerned; I am King and what I say goes.”
He rose to his full formidable height and sneered at Brianna. “Now go before I decide to teach you another lesson in manners. And tell your mother I will deal with her later.”
He saw the look of raw fear in her eyes as she ran out as fast as she could. He chuckled. He knew she would not disobey him and go to Earth with her sisters; she would be too afraid of the consequences brought on to her precious mother.
William’s lips curled in disgust. As King of Nydonia, the magic realm, he had been forced to marry. For decades, he had been able to placate his people by telling them that he did not want an arranged marriage, that his heart hoped for love, for true love. It was all nonsense, of course, but his people didn’t know that. They had thought it incredibly romantic to have their King out, searching for his one true love. Actually, he’d been sowing his royal oats. His ruse had worked but eventually, his people grew tired of waiting.
Not so gently, they had reminded him of the royal decree that stated that the King must marry to continue his lineage, to assure his people that once he died there would be another King. Only, William didn’t plan on ever dying or relinquishing power to his throne. He had worked too hard to get it, had used up his own sweat and blood in the process.
Luckily for his wife’s bad genes, they had only conceived girls. Snivelling, weak, weepy pussies with no backbone to speak of. Then again, if they had ever shown one, he would have made a pleasure of breaking it.
There was a knock on the door and William sighed; he would never get any peace, even in the privacy of his own chambers. He waved a hand and the door jerked open, startling Scott, his assistant.
William held back another sigh when the tall, gangly boy with the wavy blond hair stumbled on his own two feet, fell on one knee and scrambled back up. William didn’t know if the boy was naturally clumsy or if it was his presence that caused the boy such discomfort. William hoped it was the latter. “What is it, Scott?”
“Sir, you asked me to remind you of the council meeting today at three o’clock.”
“What time is it?”
Scott cringed. “Five to three.”
William exploded to his feet. “Why are you telling me this just now?”
“I - I’m sorry sir. I searched the whole mansion for you but I couldn’t find you. I only crossed Brianna a minute ago and she told me where I could find you.”
There was a fleeting look in Scott’s eyes as he mentioned Brianna. Most people would have missed the look, but not William. So, he thought, Scott’s in love with my daughter. Interesting . . . I wonder if the feeling is mutual. “That’s Princess Brianna to you,” he told the boy stiffly, enjoying the mortified blush creeping up Scott’s pale cheeks.
“Yes of course, I’m sorry Your Majesty.”
“You may go now; I will make my way to the council room.”
His assistant bowed awkwardly before heading out at a dead run. William smiled cruelly as he watched him go then snapped his fingers and opened his palm. A second later a plate of olives was in his hand. He headed out of his chambers, hoping his wife would be in attendance at the meeting.
* * *
William hated these council meetings. They were all about his people’s wants and demands and about how the magic trainings were going. Sometimes the council members had a promising alliance to suggest to him and in those cases, he married off one of his daughters to an eligible Prince or King. His daughters wisely kept their mouths shut and allowed themselves to be carted away. He sneered. Good examples of the weaker sex; good only for alliances and for spreading their legs. To make matters worse, he had eaten every single olive in the plate and his wife wasn’t even there. Well, he’d get her later.
John, one of the eldest council members, cleared his throat to gain the King’s attention. William’s eyes snapped to his.
“I realise Your Majesty has much to consider with everything we have discussed today but I must ask for your attention a few moments more.”
“Proceed.”
“You have asked us to keep an eye on the earth realm for any demonstrations of magic.”
William almost snorted at John’s words. He did not ‘ask’, he demanded. “Yes I have. Have you discovered anything new?”
John hesitated. “For the past decade or so, we have felt certain disturbances in the magic realm. These past few weeks, they have become more and more frequent.”
William frowned. “Why is this important to me?”
“Well, the magic seems to come from the same user, the one we’ve been keeping a close eye on. The signature is identical every time.”
William sat up straighter. “Why wasn’t he approached and brought here?”
John swallowed. “Because every time we have sent someone to investigate, the user was gone. We knew he was a male but that was the only certain thing we could discover.”
“And now?”
“Our seekers were able to confirm his identity. His name is Noah Stanhope and he is thirty-one years of age.”
“What of his parents?” William demanded. He had a bad feeling about this magic user. For some reason his gut was clenching painfully. He forced his mind to concentrate. Did he know any Stanhope’s? Had he bedded one of them before? The name wasn’t familiar, and he couldn’t recall knowing many Noah’s, so why . . .
“That took a little more time and trouble to find but we were any to pinpoint his energy source to the Haney’s.”
“The Haney’s?” William was bewildered. The Haney’s were one of those rather numerous families where one of the members had escaped the Magic Realm and had started a family without telling their spouses of their true origins. With time, the magic had diluted with every passing generation until there was barely any magic there to mention. How could one of them have generated such a powerful child?
“Yes. A lot more finessing on our parts found that the mother was named Moira and she had been pregnant of Noah but with no husband. Her parents kicked her out of their house at fourteen years of age and she never came back. Now, her parents are deceased and we were unable to learn more.”
Moira Haney. Moira Haney. What did that name ring a bell?
William flipped through the names he knew but there was a lot. Considering how long he’d been alive, that was not surprising at all. He couldn’t have met her in the magic realm since her family had left decades ago. So where could it have been?
The names of Noah and Moira rolled around in his head, but the only thing he knew was that his stomach was tying up in knots. His whole being was protesting his mental research, his search for the truth. Where had he heard her name before? He couldn’t recall meeting any husband-less mother’s, much less one he would have frolicked with. Had he slept with her?
That question unleashed something in his mind, a memory long forgotten.
Eyes, dark and defiant, chin raised and shoulders back, showing large breasts and a swollen stomach, swollen because heavy with child. “Like it or not, you are this baby’s father. This is the last time I will mention it. I don’t want you or your help; I just needed you to know.”
It took all of William’s considerable willpower to hold back a curse. “How old did you say the Stanhope boy was?”
“Thirty-one, sir,” John answered without looking at his notes.
William calculated the time frame but he already knew the truth; this child, this Noah Stanhope was his child. The child he had conceived with Moira Haney. He studied John intently as he said, “And what of the boy’s father?”
“We know nothing at all about him. He must have been a powerful magical being because we found no trace of him. He had masked his presence effectively and our seekers hit a dead-end.”
William held back a long sigh of relief. He did not want anyone to know about his son before he had time to think things over. “Keep an eye on him then, maybe he will lead you to his parents.”
He dismissed the council members and asked them to close the door on their way out; maybe here, in the closed room, no one would come looking for him.
The King leaned back in his chair and lost himself in his thoughts. Until a few moments ago, he had thought he had no male heirs. If ever something happened to him, his Kingdom and his people would be ruled by Keith, his nephew. Even if the law did not call for a male heir, he would have found a way to keep the kingdom out of the hands of the snivelling pussies he sired.
His lips curled in disgust before he froze, a thought occurring to him. He could make Noah his official heir by claiming him as his son and in the process, he could arrange for the timely death of his wife and daughters. He would finally be rid of the lot of them. It’s not like he had ever been faithful to Celia and his daughters were nothing but constant disappointments who liked to spend his money. For some time, he had thought Brianna better than them but in the end, she was only good to spread her legs and spend his hard-earned money.
He tried to remember everything John had told him about Noah but couldn’t. He snapped his fingers and a thick brown file folder appeared before him. He leafed through him, his eyes skimming the pages.
Noah had surfaced ten years before; he was inexperienced and his control was shaky. Since their birth, all magical beings were closely monitored to make sure they did not abuse their powers or expose themselves unnecessarily to the earth realm. It became a little trickier when the magical beings lived in the earth realm, such as the Haney’s, and with time only the stronger users were monitored. When Noah surfaced, he was immediately brought to the King’s attention because although his magic was untried, it was raw, brutal power. He had managed to evade the magic seekers every time. Except for now.
Although they could not find Noah, the seekers were able to speak with the people who had been there. They basically said the same thing each time; they had been in distress, either sick or being attacked, and the young man had come to save them. He was their hero, the people would say. When asked, they had said that he was in his twenties, with dark hair, bright blue eyes and a friendly smile. He was caring and gentle as he helped them, but ruthless and determined against the attackers. He always left as soon as he was reassured the victims were fine.
A hero, William thought derisively. How was it possible that he, the master of cruelty, pain and violence, had sired five creatures so different from himself? Surely a trick of fate.
Although he had been thankful for not having a son competing with him for the throne, now that he realised he had one, William found himself wanting to know more about the boy. Maybe he hid his cruelty under a clever disguise. Maybe the people the seekers found were persuaded to believe that he was a hero, when in fact he had raped and beaten them. Did his son have powers of persuasion? A slow smile crept upon William’s face. Maybe he would bring his son to him, get to know him and learn his potential.
Then, a memory came to him. One of his powers was to mask his presence from those surrounding him and he used that power often when he went into town. That way, he could listen to his people praise him and bask in the glow of it. What he actually enjoyed was making trouble; he would punch or kick a passerby while he or she was surrounded and then watch the subsequent fight that ensued. His love for mischief was surpassed only by his love for mayhem.
During one of those altercations a few months back, a young man had stopped the fight by yelling at the crowd that they were doing the King’s bidding by fighting this way. “He is evil,” the young man had stated loudly, “and he has eyes everywhere. Can’t you see he is the reason for the poverty and deaths? He enjoys watching us kill ourselves!”
The crowd had casted nervous looks around but had slowly nodded their heads in agreement. Whispers rose from the crowds, people spoke of what they had witnessed from their King over the years, the gratuitous violence, rumours of the royal family’s mistreatment, his cruelty seemed legendary amongst the crowd.
Without thinking, William had drawn a knife from his belt, preparing to throw it at the
young man but his guards had arrived to disperse the crowds. They took into custody the young man and William made sure he paid for the truths about him he had been spreading.
William rose and walked to the windows, glancing at the land before him. He had thought he kept his inclinations well hidden but apparently not. He hadn’t realised his people were no longer satisfied with him, especially if there were talking about it in broad daylight, where they could get arrested for treason.
If Noah was really as legitimate and authentic as his seekers were led to believe, then the last thing William should do was bring Noah to Nydonia and claim him as his heir. If he did that, William was sure he’d meet with some untimely demise.
The King shuddered. For someone who never planned on dying, thinking of his people killing him off was an alarming thought. No, Noah must never come Nydonia.
That thought wasn’t enough to calm his upset stomach and he realised why; as long as Noah lived, he would be a threat to William and to his kingdom. He would have to get rid of him permanently and he knew just the man to do it.
* * *
Keith forced himself to remain still behind the thick velvet curtains. If his uncle found out he was hiding there, spying on him, his death would be swift and immediate. It wouldn’t matter to William that Keith was his only brother’s son, he would not take kindly to been spied upon.
Keith sneered. If only his uncle knew the extent of his spying. To everyone, Keith’s powers resided in his skills with a weapon. He had learned young to master every weapon available and he had never failed in combat. Therefore, it was assumed that his magic, his powers, were his skills in combat.
They had no idea how wrong they were. He was a mind reader. He had never lost a battle because he heard his adversaries thoughts and could anticipate their every move. He had understood very young that if he ever wanted to amount to anything in life, he needed to keep his powers a secret. People thought their thoughts were private and would not appreciate knowing he could read their deepest, darkest treasures. He had taken the habit of sneaking everywhere and listening in on the conversations. When necessary, he blackmailed. It had become very lucrative over the years.
Most recently, he had began hiding in the council room and until today, he had heard nothing of interest. But today! Noah Stanhope was William’s son! Not only was he a threat to the King but to himself because as soon as he could, without raising suspicions, he planned on killing off his dear uncle and taking possession of the crown. But if it was known that the King had an illegitimate son . . . Keith shuddered.
Noah needed to be disposed of and Keith knew just the man for the job.
As a quick comment-- Brianna doesn't act like a sixteen year old. One of your recurring issues, it seems, is keeping characters their age. 
You mention she's youngest, which gave me the idea of someone much younger, and then throughout their conversation she's incredibly pansy-ish, whimpering and terrified. Now, I understand that this is one mean dad. But I can't imagine a teenage girl (especially one who's clearly been through this before) act so completely helpless. Give her some dignity. Teenagers are more prone to anger than fear, I've noticed-- have her react a bit, instead of run away like a disobedient puppy. Even if it's just in her expressions.
