Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
A full minute passed.
Edgar started to snore.
Fear clenched inside him, but Willem forced himself to take a step. But his foot had barely landed on the floor when he heard his father start to laugh. “You stupid boy. You thought it would be over just like that?”
A kick landed on Willem’s back, and as he fell down, he felt it—-
His father stepping on the end of his spine, grinding his shoe down on Willem’s body like he wanted to crush his son.
A cry escaped Willem.
His father laughed harder.
And the beating started again.
By the time Edgar passed out, it was nearly dawn, and Willem was forced to half-crawl, half-stumble towards his father’s desk in his pain. Now was his chance, he thought dizzily. While his father and the whole house were sleeping, none of the adults on his father’s payroll would be able to know what he was doing. No one would be able to stop him until it was too late.
When Willem reached his father’s desk, he gripped the edges tightly and used it to pull himself up. Tears stung his eyes at the pain every little movement caused, but he ignored it, not wanting to waste a second.
He dialed a number he had risked life and death to find out, and when the call connected, he said with hoarse determination, “My name is Willem de Konigh, grandson to the Queen of Contini. My life and my siblings’ are in danger, and it is important we speak to her immediately.”
WILHEMINA WANTED TO weep at the photos of her grandson’s injuries. A dark rainbow of colors had been imprinted on his back, all the way down to his legs, and she couldn’t imagine the strength it had taken for the eleven-year-old boy to withstand all the beatings and not ask for help...until now.
“I wonder what I’ve done in my past life,” she said bitterly to her adviser, “to be cursed with children who are either spineless or conscienceless.”
Egbert wisely said nothing. The Queen of Contini, while a devoted mother, had also been harsh and strict in the way she had reared her children. Instead of instilling love, she had inspired fear and resentment in them, and these feelings had only festered as they grew up.
The queen’s hands shook as she finally lowered the photos back to the desk. “Where are Edgar and his wife?”
“They have been requested to remain in their residence while this matter is sought out.”
Her lip curled. “You mean, he tried to leave and you had to use security?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Wilhemina massaged her temples. “You’ve questioned him, yes?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“And everything the boy said was true?”
“It took considerable time and certain manipulation to have him speak the truth, but yes, Your Majesty, every word of Master Willem’s story is, sadly, true.”
The queen’s face became rigid at the confirmation. “I see.” Her eyes took on a faraway look as Wilhemina tried to put herself in her grandson’s shoes.
It had started when Edgar suspected his wife of cheating and of their youngest, Nicolaas, a bastard and fathered by one of his wife’s lovers. He had gotten drunk every night afterward, and his alcoholic stupors would often send him into a mad fury. He had wanted to beat someone, and Willem had been the most convenient punching bag.
Willem had done his best to tolerate the beatings because he knew that if he spoke out, Edgar could send him to boarding school and then his younger siblings would be forced to bear the brunt of their father’s anger. But lately, Edgar had become moodier and unreasonable, and last night when Willem had to forcibly bar his father from entering the young Nic’s room, Willem had known it would never stop. He had needed to ask for help, and so he had called his grandmother.
But he shouldn’t even have had to ask, Wilhemina thought in despair. Guilt rested heavily on her shoulders, a burden she knew she would carry to the grave. She should have known. Dear Lord, she should have known. But she had been too blind, too busy – oh Lord, it was the same cycle all over again. She had ignored her children’s needs for the sake of the kingdom, and look where they were now. And she was doing it again with these innocent children!
She closed her eyes, feeling much older than her fifty-eight years. How was it that running the kingdom had always been a black-and-white issue to her, something she had been able to instinctively master.
And yet with her family, with those born of her blood, she remained clueless as a newborn babe.
Even though she felt it was too late to change her ways, there was still time left for her grandson.
Squaring her shoulders, she asked, “Where is Willem now?”
“St. Anne’s, Your Majesty. His identity has been kept private, and security is posted outside his room round the clock.”