Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 68691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
KATO
We gathered in a drawing room, a small group, Karl and I, Kristian and the King, plus our mom and Tina. A couple Legionnaires stood attendance outside the door, making sure no one would enter. And good thing because as soon as the door shut, Georg burst into a rage.
“You ho!” he screeched at Violet. “What are you doing here? Why are you here? To wreck my life like you did once already?”
I stepped forward immediately, glowering, my big form ready to do some serious damage, King or not.
“Don’t talk to our mother that way,” I hissed, hand raised.
And my brother was one step behind, the look on his face twisted and ugly.
“Stand down, fucker,” he spat. “Stand the fuck down.”
And yeah, we’re professional soldiers, I have no doubt of the impression we made. Two huge, athletic men, towering, dominating one fat paunchy dude, it was no match, no match at all. No weapons needed, just give us two seconds flat and he’d be a fucking mess on the floor.
But Violet, despite having two circles of scarlet high on her cheekbones, was no shrinking violet. She gave as good as she got, and this time was no exception.
“They’re your sons, you’ve always known that,” she spat, eyes shooting sparks. “You’ve shirked your paternal obligations for years now, years,” she hissed. “You need to man up and recognize.”
And I expected Georg to make some lame excuse about being busy, how he had a country to run, honor to uphold, all that bullshit. But instead, he turned it right back on Violet.
“I had no choice,” he ground out. “I have to live in St. Venetia, I’m the fucking King! You had to live in buttfuck nowhere, a little town with what? Fifty people? What did you expect me to do? Move to Smallville, USA? Leave my people behind? Give up the throne?”
WTF? Violet had always told us that our dad had had no interest in us, that we were an accident, a literal flying fuck as part of the Mile High Club. So what was this stuff about wanting to know us? Had our mom never given him a chance, keeping us sequestered and out of his reach?
But before I could ask, Violet started hurling epithets too.
“Well I couldn’t take it!” she screeched, “I couldn’t stand the fact that you always had me in the closet, your ho that you fucked whenever it was convenient. All because of you and your need for ‘royal blood,’” she mimed with air quotes. “What the fuck is wrong with being a commoner? I’m human, I’m good enough.”
Holy shit. Georg had looked down on Violet because she wasn’t nobility? I could see why she was so angry, she’s American and there isn’t any real nobility in the United States, just fake royals like the Kardashians.
But that was neither here nor there, and Georg responded from left field, sparring from a completely different angle, making my breath catch, my chest grow tight.
“Stop making this about ‘royal blood,’” he shot back, “because you know it was never about that. I couldn’t date you, I couldn’t marry you because I didn’t have any money,” he ground out. “I explained it to you. My family didn’t have any money, we were living a lie pretending to be something we weren’t, and I had to marry a rich woman just to keep a roof over our heads, so my parents could continue their farce. What don’t you get that? You’ll never understand what loyalty is, what family duty is,” he said bitterly.
“You’re right, I don’t understand,” shot back Violet. “What about your ‘family duty’ to the boys? Why haven’t you reached out?”
And at that, Georg looked ashamed.
“You’re right,” he said, looking off into the distance. “I tried to contact them a couple times when they were kids, but you had them in Nowhereville, USA, home-schooling them as if you were in a cult,” he said bitterly. “I never heard back so I gave up after a couple years,” he continued. “Maybe I shouldn’t have.”
And a shocked silence descended.
“Mom,” I said slowly, “Is what he’s saying true? I don’t even know where to start, what the fuck this is so messed up.”
“Don’t try to understand,” said Violet, bitterness lacing her voice. “I never got it myself. I just got that I wasn’t good enough, that was loud and clear,” she said, her voice accusatory, still looking at the king.
And Georg sighed then, his shoulders slumped, his air defeated.
“Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said?” he asked tiredly. “I couldn’t marry you, I had to marry for money. It had nothing to do with power, prestige, family name, or ‘the blood royal’ as you love repeating. It had to do with money, and my wife’s family had plenty.”
And now my mom looked like a trapped animal, her face sheet white, turning rapidly in different directions, panicked, fidgety.