Victoria screams.
She thrashes and twists about, but Kenny slams the door shut behind her. One of her heels falls off, laying alone on the sidewalk.
“Let go of me,” bellows Victoria. “I don't know who you are, but this is unacceptable! Let me out! Let me out of here!”
“Be quiet,” snaps the man. The limo is dark. The windows are tinted on both sides. There's a light in the top of the car, but it isn't turned on. “There's no point in yelling. It's just going to give everyone in here a headache.”
Victoria shouts again. She struggles to sit up, pressing herself against the passenger side door. Her hands scrabble with the door handle, but it doesn't budge. The door is locked. Tugging at the little nub that should open the door does nothing. It's locked from up front.
The light clicks on. It's low and slightly yellow. Strange shadows are cast over the inside of the limo. The man next to Victoria is all broad shoulders and slicked back hair.
For a moment, the sheer terror leaves Victoria unable to figure out who he is. But when he opens his mouth to talk again, she knows.
It's Killian, the man she had gone home with at the gala just a few weeks prior. The man who had left bruises on her lips and ants within her skin.
“You're louder than I remember,” muses Killian. He's holding a gun, but the silver barrel is just resting against his white-washed, jean clad thigh. “And far less composed. Is being torn away from your lover that upsetting to you?”
Victoria demands, “What are you doing?”
“Isn't it obvious?”
“Let me go!”
“No,” says Killian simply. “I'm not going to. Why would you even try asking me that? If I've gone to all this work to get you out here, why would you shouting at me make me change my mind? No, Victoria. I have a lot of things in mind for you. This is going to be a very exciting, interesting ride I have in store for you.”
Victoria tries to make herself as small as possible. She pulls her legs up onto the seat, leaning back against the door to try to prevent the man from touching her. Kenny gets in the driver's seat, starts the engine, and pulls the limo smoothly out of the driveway. He pushes open the dividing window so he can talk to the two of them.
Kenny asks, “Are we still following the plan?”
“We are,” says Killian easily. He pulls a small, white rag out of his jacket pocket and starts wiping down the outside of the gun. “I don't see why there's any reason to change something when things have worked out perfectly so far.”
Kenny nods. He adjusts the rearview mirror so he can see into the back seat better. “I was being serious about the traffic, Princess. We should get off the main road in no time flat. You won't have to be cramped up in here for that long.”
“Please,” whimpers Victoria. “If this is about money, you have things all wrong! My parents, they would never pay you any sort of ransom! Not now...”
Killian laughs. It's a deep, welcoming sound. “Of course not! They would never pay to have a whore released back into their kingdom! Why, I'm sure they're going to be grateful over this. I've read the papers—your papers, that is. I've seen how the reporters in Vertsea are handling this. I've seen how much they have lost their faith in you.”
He continues, “It's funny. I started off trying to think of ways to discredit you and blame that on him, but I ended up not having to. You took care of that all on your own. Clearly, your parents aren't trying to protest the reports and the headlines. They aren't even allowing you to fly home with them. To me, that means that they simply no longer care whether you arrive back in Vertsea or not.”
“They do care,” insists Victoria, but the lie is heavy on her tongue. “They care! It's just against policy to pay any ransom!”
“No, it isn't,” says Killian lightly. “Believe me, I've already looked that up. Appearances aside, I'm not an idiot. I know how to look into the policies of a country.”
“They haven't given up on me!”
“They have.”
“No! No, they still care!” Victoria shakes her head. She's crying, hard. The tears leave hot streaks on her cheeks.
Kenny says, “You might want to remind her about the note.”
“Yes,” says Killian, sounding bemused. He abandons the absent-minded cleaning of his gun in favor of pulling a crumpled-up piece of paper out of his jacket. He shakes it out and starts reading off of it. “Due to previously discussed circumstance, we will be returning to Vertsea ahead of schedule. Our flight has already been placed, and I expect that you are ready and waiting, on time, for it. We will be leaving very early tomorrow. The fact that you aren't in your room now only farther proves to me, and to your father, that we cannot waste any more time in this dreadful country. It has corrupted you. It has broken you, and it has fouled you.”
Kenny is laughing. The sound is low and awful, like glass being raked down something metal.
“Thankfully, some men are desperate. Thankfully, some men will take even the foul. Tomorrow, we leave for Vertsea. Upon our return home, you will meet with a man named Sir Harold Lennox. He will be, should all go according to plan, your new suitor.
You will carry the baby to term. Upon its birth, a wonderful family in Zeria will take him as their own. The news will be made aware of your miscarriage. You will be distraught, and you will hide away for as long as we can manage.” Killian pauses, just long enough to give a chuckle of his own.
He continues, “After a year, you and Harold will have a child of your own. This one, should your behavior have been rectified, you will raise as your own. As per our arrangements, you will wait two years and have another child. Harold requests very little from you. As he knows and understands your proclivities, I have no problems agreeing to the few things he does want, among which are three sons and at least one daughter. You should have no problems meeting those requests.”
“Stop it,” whimpers Victoria. She presses her palms over her ears. “Please, stop it!”
Killian ignores her in favor of reading off the last line of the note. “I can only imagine this arrangement will work just fine for you. It is far less respectable than having a single crown heir, but I do not see that you are capable of reigning yourself in so this will have to do. And that was from mother dearest. How lovely.”
Victoria blanches. “How did you get that?”
“If you really want to hide away your dark secrets,” muses Killian, “you should find somewhere besides the bathroom trash can to put them.”
“You were in my room?”
“Several times. For your status, it's hardly as nice as I was expecting. Where are all the golden doorknobs?”
“Don't be ridiculous!”
“You're the only one being ridiculous,” says Kenny. The limo makes a too sharp turn. Tires slam into the curb.
Killian slaps the back of the seat. “Watch where you're driving!”
“Let me go,” insists Victoria. “If you let me go now, I won't tell anyone what's happened here. I'll tell my parents the limo had a flat tire and we missed the flight.”
Suddenly, Killian's face twists into a sneer. He grabs his gun and points it at Victoria. “Don't be such an idiot! I'm taking you for a reason! If tarnishing your good name isn't enough, I'll just have to do something else!”
“Enough for what? Just tell me,” begs Victoria. “Tell me what you want!”
“I want you to suffer,” says Killian. “I want to make Matt suffer.”
Kenny turns on the radio.
Pick a pack…
It's a recording of Victoria singing. The young princess can hardly stop herself from crying much harder. Kenny starts laughing. He says, “You sure are something of a song bird!”
“I'm not,” wails Victoria. “I don't understand. I don't understand why I'm here!”
Killian says, “You don't need to understand. You just need to do what I say. Don't worry, darling, it won't take us long. But, really, this is your own fault.”
“How?” Victoria scrubs at her face. Her eyes are burning. Her chest is aching. This is horrible! This is awful! This is even worse than having to marry Sir Harold, than having to bear three sons and a daughter.
This is horrible.
But worse is the fact that Victoria doesn't even know why. It's not for her fame. It's not for money. It's not even to try to get media attention.
Killian rolls his eyes. “Do you really not know?”
Victoria shakes her head.
Kenny says, “Just tell her, Killian. I'm all for making things rough on the girl, but this is just cruel. Besides, don't this pretty little voice of hers just sway your scarred heart?”
“No,” says Killian. “It doesn't. But I suppose it can't hurt.”
“Please tell me,” begs Victoria. “At least tell me why you’re doing this?”
“Because you’ve stolen Matt’s heart.”
“Matt? What does he have to do with this?”
“Honey,” says Killian, rolling his eyes. “I’m only interested in you because of Matt. Last time, I thought just getting you to sleep with me would be enough. We could even the playing fields a little bit, right? But that didn’t work. You were so damn determined that you already had a boyfriend. A boyfriend!”
Killian laughs.
Kenny laughs, too.
Victoria feels like her skin is about to burst into flame.
Killian continues, “So I had to rethink things. Once that picture came out, I knew exactly what the problem was. He wasn’t just looking to sleep with you. The damn fool had fallen in love with you. And I just can’t let that happen.”
“Why not? What does any of this have to do with you?”
“Everything,” says Killian. “It has everything to do with me. That fool has been in charge of the Horsemen for far too long! He’s getting sloppy, and he isn’t taking us near as far as we could go, near as far as I could go!”
Kenny adds, “We’ve tried to get him to leave before, but it didn’t work. He just got pissed off, and then he got even more stupid.”
“So I decided if I couldn’t make him leave, I would make him regret not leaving. Victoria, I’m truly sorry you had to get involved in all of this.” Killian gives the young princess a sickly sweet smile, the sort that means everything and nothing, all at the same time. “I really, really am. But if I’m going to make Matt back down, if I’m going to make him realize that he’s wrong, I’m going to need to use you for it.”