William
When I wake, I’m alone.
My stomach sinks when I realize Justine isn’t next to me in bed—Did she run again?—but then I roll over and see the note on the pillow next to my head.
You looked too peaceful to wake. I’ve gone to the library to write before class.
I love you.
Yours forever, Justine.
In spite of my disappointment at not being able to celebrate our first morning as newlyweds together, I find myself smiling, especially at the last bit. She’s mine forever.
I climb out of bed and quickly dress. I have no intention of distracting her from her studies—if this is important to her, then it’s important to me, too—but I’d still like to at least kiss her good morning. Maybe I’ll swing by a cafe and grab her some coffee and a pastry—knowing her, she probably forgot to have breakfast before diving into work. I’ll sneak her breakfast into the library, give her a kiss she won’t forget all day, and then leave her to her writing.
In no time at all, I’m marching cheerily down the street. I spot a cafe almost immediately, and once I’ve acquired her breakfast—and a few extra pastries for myself—I set out in search of the university library. A couple of passing students are kind enough to point me in the right direction.
As I approach the stately building, I consider how best to hide a steaming cup of coffee beneath my jacket without looking suspicious, but before I even reach the steps, a harsh voice reaches my ear. I stop short, my body recognizing that voice before my head does.
Reginald.
When I look up, I see him standing at the top of the steps, just to the side of the door. And he has Justine by the arm. She’s struggling to break free from his grip.
The cup of coffee falls out of my hand, but I hardly even notice when the liquid splatters all over my pants. I run up the steps two at a time, and I grab Reginald by the back of the collar, yanking him away from Justine. He drops her arm as I pull him back.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demand. He might be her brother, but it was clear at a glance that this isn’t a friendly family visit.
Reginald’s surprise is quickly replaced by a sneer. “Well, look who it is. I shouldn’t be surprised my whore of a sister has taken up with you again.”
My grip on his collar tightens. “What’s that supposed to mean, you bastard?”
“Hah! If there’s any bastard here, it’s that thing growing in the whore’s belly.” His eyes flash. “That’s right—I know all about it.”
In my surprise, I nearly release him, but I manage to keep my grip. “How? How do you know?” I shoot a glance at Justine, who’s still wide-eyed and rather pale, though I can tell from the set of her lips that she’s just as angry as I am. I can’t believe she would have told her brother—or anyone in her family—about her pregnancy, not yet. And the fact that he doesn’t know she’s having twins only further confirms it.
“You think we’d have let Justine come over here without any supervision?” Reginald says. “After the stunt she pulled before with that professor?” He barks a laugh. “Clearly the whore can’t be trusted to behave properly. We’ve had eyes on her ever since she set foot in this godforsaken country.”
Justine inhales sharply, and when I glance at her again, I see realization in her eyes.
“You’ve had me followed,” she says. “I thought… I knew there was someone watching me, but I convinced myself I was being paranoid. Or that it was just other students curious about the fallen princess.” She squares her shoulders. “This is low, even for you—”
“And having some bastard child isn’t?” Reginald laughs again. “Oh, Sister. You never learn, do you?”
With a growl, I squeeze Reginald’s collar, shaking him. His laugh cuts off.
“Get the hell out of our lives,” I say. “You aren’t allowed to interfere in Justine’s life anymore.”
“I don’t believe you have a say in that,” he chokes out. “You gave up your claim to her.”
“Not anymore. Justine and I remarried.” In spirit, at least. But Reginald doesn’t have to know that it isn’t official yet. “She’s my wife now, and I’m not going to let you or your father lay a finger on her. Not now or ever again.”
“I hate to break it to you, Montovian scum, but you can’t marry her. Not without my father’s permission. Under Rosvalian law, a daughter belongs to her father until—”
“I don’t care about the bloody Rosvalian law!” I give him another shake. “Justine is my wife, and I swear, if you even attempt to harm her in any way—”
Reginald suddenly twists, breaking himself free of my grasp. Before I can grab his shirt again, he throws a fist at me, and I only barely manage to avoid his punch.
But I’m not about to let him get away with that. I lunge for him, swinging at him. All the anger that filled me last night when Justine told me how her first pregnancy ended comes rushing back, filling me with rage. All her life she’s been controlled by her father and brother, all her life she’s suffered at their hands. I’ll make them pay for the crimes they’ve committed. And I won’t let them hurt her again. Even if I have to kill them to do it.
We both go down, falling onto the concrete at the top of the library steps. In the back of my mind, I have a sudden, terrifying thought—Justine is too close, and it’s dangerous to fight near her—but it’s too late to stop the fight now. Even as I try to break free, Reginald grabs my arm and socks me right in the stomach, knocking the air out of me. I punch his shoulder, just trying to get him off of me, but even my defensive gestures only seem to make Reginald angrier.
“Montovian scum!” he roars, striking me in the side.
My anger is just as wild and free, though part of me is desperately trying to fight it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Justine. No matter what happens—even if I have to let Reginald beat me to a pulp—I’ll keep the fight away from her. I’ll keep her safe.
Still, my body fights back as best it can, trying to deflect his punches and twist away from his kicks. He manages to catch me on the jaw, and for a moment, stars flash across my vision. The back of my head hits the cement, and that makes me even dizzier.
My anger threatens to break free again, to make Reginald pay for everything he’s done. And another desperate part of my mind realizes that letting Reginald continue to beat me won’t help Justine either—especially if he cracks my skull against the concrete. But as he swings another punch at my face, I see my chance. I stay where I am until the very last second, then I quickly twist my head away. Reginald’s punch continues toward where my face was only a split second ago, and as a result, his fist slams right into the concrete.
The crunch of his bones echoes through my skull.
With a scream, Reginald falls back, gripping his hand. I take advantage of the opportunity and wriggle out from beneath him, then clamber to my feet. In a heartbeat I’m next to Justine.
“Are you all right?” I ask her. She doesn’t appear to have been hit or even bumped, but I have to make sure.
She nods, her eyes on Reginald, who’s still howling. After a moment, his cries of pain shift into wild, furious curses.
“You fucking scum!” he shouts at me. “You fucking Montovian bastard!” He stumbles to his feet, cradling his broken hand. “You can have my bloody fucking whore of a sister, for all I care! You can both rot in hell!”
“It will be much more pleasant than your palace, I’m sure,” I say lightly.
“Laugh while you can, fucking scum,” he says, backing down the steps. “You won’t be laughing for long! You fucking Montovians think you have it all…but you have no idea. No idea at all.” He throws back his head and laughs. “You’ll be ruined by next week. Just you wait. My father is about to make you pay once and for all for what you’ve done to us.”