PREQUEL: Royal Ancestors
Chapter 5

When morning finally arrived, the king made good on his promise and delivered several fabulous gowns to Beatrice’s room. Helena returned to help Beatrice dress in a red gown that was much more casual than the dinner dress. It had a light satin skirt and a sheer overlay, it was long sleeves with a sweetheart neckline and a long train that flowed out behind her. Helena slipped a pair of red flats on her feet and helped Beatrice to stand.

“Breakfast is being served in the dining hall with the king.” Helena said, opening up the door to Beatrice’s bed chambers.

“Thank you, Helena.” Beatrice offered her a small smile before following her back through the castle.

King Arlow stood from his chair when he heard Beatrice approach. He smiled broadly at his mate and pulled out the seat to his right, wanting his Queen in her rightful spot. Beatrice looked nervous as she approached the king, pausing a few feet away to curtsey obediently. Arlo sighed and held out his hand, helping her from her curtsey and into her chair.

“You shall not bow or curtsey to anyone ever again, my dear. You are a queen.” Arlo said,

“I am not, sir, but you are a king.” Beatrice dared to argue.

“On the day of your 18th birthday, when you have realized that I am your mate and you are, indeed, my Queen, I will announce you to the realm and accept my apology from you for all of your arguing.” He teases her with a crooked smile.

“My apologies, sire, I did not mean any disrespect….” She started to panic but Arlo placed a calming hand on her arm,

“My dear, you have not disrespected me. Please, you must not submit to me.” Arlo sighed.

Beatrice nodded but she still refused to meet his gaze. He released her arm and returned to his plate.

“I thought you might like a walk around the castle’s gardens this morning?” He said, changing the subject.

“If it pleases you.” She replied and Arlo sighed again. This one was stubborn.

When they had finished their breakfast, Arlo stood and helped Beatrice from her chair. Once again, he offered her his elbow and she accepted. He led her from the palace and around the gardens. They had only made it a short way when her grip on his arm tightened and he noticed that her face was pinched together in pain. He stopped walking immediately and turned her in his arms so they stood face to face, only inches from each other.

“What is wrong?” Arlo cupped Beatrice’s face gently and ducked so they were eye level.

“Nothing, sire, I’m okay.” She shook her head, trying to smile her way through the pain.

“You are lying, my dear. Come, I’m taking you back to the castle.” Arlo said, placing his hand on her back to guide her in the direction of the palace.

She gasped aloud and stumbled away from Arlo, tears welling up in her eyes and her hands started to shake.

“Beatrice?” Arlo’s own expression was one of pain, but only his pain was emotional instead of physical.

Beatrice turned away from Arlo and his eyes darkened. Her dress was red but still he could see the dark red stain that was spreading out across her back: blood. He clenched his fists and growled, causing Beatrice to jump and shrink away from his fury.

“What happened to you?” Arlo forced out between his clenched teeth.

“It’s alright, I’m alright.” She continued to lie.

Arlo grabbed her arms and leveled his gaze with hers,

“Do not lie to me, Beatrice.” He warned her.

“I….I…” She whimpered, her bottom lip quivering.

At the look of fear in her eyes, all of Arlo’s anger vanished. He scooped her up in his arms gently and moved as quickly as he could back to the palace. He ignored her arguments and her questions, taking her straight to the infirmary.

“No, no, no, please. I don’t need a doctor.” Beatrice began to panic as she recognized her surroundings.

Arlo sat Beatrice down on the examination table and mindlinked the doctor who rushed into the room a second later.

“No!” Beatrice shrieked as the doctor approached her, wrapping her arms protectively around herself. The doctor froze and looked over at Arlo,

“My King….”

But, Arlo wasn’t listening to him. He was focused on his mate who was clearly in pain, both physical and emotional. He slowly moved to her side, careful not to upset her. He held his hands up to show her that he meant no harm.

“Beatrice, you’re bleeding. I only want the doctor to examine your wounds.” Arlo said and Beatrice looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. He gasped at her broken expression and held back the urge to wrap his arms around her.

“I do not want him to examine me.” She sobbed.

Arlo turned towards the doctor and growled at him. He realized that it was irrational since he was the one who asked Dr. Lewis to come, but it didn’t matter. Dr. Lewis was making his mate uncomfortable and he wasn’t going to stand for it any longer. The doctor hurried out of the room.

“There, he’s gone. My dear, please, let me help you.” Arlo begged.

“I….I am fine, really. I have some wounds on my back that are slowly healing. I’m afraid that the walk caused some of them to open and start bleeding again.” Beatrice tried to speak with a confidence that she did not have.

“What happened, Beatrice?” Arlo asked again, this time with a much more serious expression.

Beatrice sighed loudly. She felt his Alpha aura pressing down on her, but she also felt that she had the ability within to resist it. If that wasn’t proof that he was her mate, she wasn’t sure what was. Insteading of fighting off his command, she resolved to answer his question.

“I was whipped.” She said in a voice that was nearly inaudible.

“Excuse me?” Arlo didn’t want to believe that he heard her correctly.

“Lord Bates, he…he rented me whenever he was allowed to and he…he made it clear that he intended to buy me when I came of age. He….Lord Bates wanted me for…..unhonorable intentions, something he made very clear. He….he whipped me repeatedly, he beat me, he made me do unthinkable things…..” Beatrice was hiccuping now as she sobbed, fat teardrops falling down her cheeks and plopping onto her hands.

Arlo was shaking with rage from head to toe. His fists were clenched so tightly that his fingernails were digging into his palm, causing him to bleed. Deacon was growling and snarling in his head, demanding to be let out so he could replace Lord Bates and rip him into a million teeny tiny pieces.

“King Arlo?” Beatrice’s voice called out to him. She was uncomfortable with the idea of trying to soothe the king, but she felt compelled to do so.

“I promise you, Beatrice, I will kill him.” Arlo said in a deadly voice.

“I….” Beatrice’s voice began to shake again.

Arlo snapped out of his rage and moved closer to his mate, perched on the edge of her bed and leaning in as close to her as he could get without causing her to run away.

“You will never be harmed again.” Arlo promised her.

“I might not be your mate…..” She argued but Arlo shook his head,

“I don’t care. Mate or not, I will right this wrong. But, for the record, Beatrice Maison,” He cupped her cheek and moved his face so it was only inches from hers, “You are most certainly my mate.”

Beatrice gulped and nodded, having no other reply.

“Please let someone look at your wounds.”

“Not the doctor. Not a man, please.” Beatrice begged, attempting to sniff away her tears.

“Helena then?” Arlo offered and Beatrice nodded hesitantly.

“Okay.” Her voice caught in her throat.

Arlo mindlinked Helena and then removed himself from the bed.

“I shall wait outside….” He began, heading towards the door. Beatrice’s voice stopped him in his tracks,

“You don’t have to.” The words came spilling out of her mouth before she could stop then.

Arlo spun around to look at her with wide eyes and she felt herself immediately start to blush.

“I mean, you are the king, you don’t have to….” She started back tracking, trying to cover up her mistake.

Arlo’s grin had her clamping her mouth shut. She tracked him with her eyes as he moved across the room, leaning against the back wall and crossing his arms over his chest. Helena entered the room then, bowing her head and awaiting her orders.

“Helena, my mate,” Arlo began, earning a subtle glare from Beatrice. He sighed before correcting himself, “Miss. Beatrice needs some assistance tending to her wounds.”

“Oh, yes, certainly.” Helena looked relieved that Beatrice was finally seeking help for the gnarly wounds she had seen all along her back.

Helena walked up to Beatrice and then glanced back at Arlo, clearing her throat.

“Will you be staying, you highness?” She asked and Arlo nodded.

Helena sighed before motioning for Beatrice to stand up and turn around. She undid the ties and buttons of Beatrice’s dress and folded the top down around her waist, not needing to remove the gown fully. She did the same with the slip and then unraveled the ribbon ties of the corset. Beatrice clutched the corset to her front so she didn’t reveal too much of herself.

She heard a deep growl coming from behind her and she looked around her shoulder to see Arlo shaking with rage in the corner of the room. His eyes were pitch black and his fist clenched tightly at his sides. When his gaze locked with hers, he instantly relaxed; his eyes returning to their enchanting green color.

Helena got to work on Beatrice’s wounds. She cleaned them with an antiseptic wipe and then carefully applied some fresh gauze to the wounds. All the while, Arlo’s eyes remained trained to Beatrice’s back, looking over the cuts that were in various stages of heeling. Some of them were fresh and oozing blood, others were pink and angry, and some were tan scars. They were all very clearly made from a whip, long thin cuts spanning from one side of her back to the other.

All Arlo could see was red and all he could feel was white hot anger.

When Helena was finished dressing the wounds, she helped Beatrice back into her layers of clothing.

“Will there be anything else, miss?” Helena asked and Beatrice shook her head.

“No, thank you.”

Helena turned towards Arlo,

“And you, your highness?” She asked,

“No, that’s all, Helena, thank you.” Arlo dismissed her.

He moved away from the wall and towards Beatrice, his eyes gazing over her body as if to assess her for any other injuries. He suspected that there were many scars hidden under the expensive fabrics of her gown.

“Are you okay, my dear?” He asked gently.

“Much better, thank you.” She smiled at him politely and he sighed at her formality.

“My dear, I don’t want you to ever hide your pain from me again. You needn’t push past it or bury it behind a false expression. I am here to make things better for you, do you understand me?” Arlo said, instructing her ever so gently.

“Yes, I understand.” Beatrice nodded.

“Your wounds, they were in various stages of healing.” Arlo confronted her with his observations. She pressed her lips together and nodded again, “How long has this been going on?”

“I was taken to the orphanage when I was 16.” Beatrice replied.

Arlo paused for a minute, thinking about the answer she gave that didn’t seem to match his question. And then he realized what she was telling him.

“You’ve been abused since you first arrived at the orphanage?” He swallowed back his rage.

“Lord Bates was my first assignment on my second day at the orphanage.” Beatrice said,

“And is he the only one who did this to you?” Arlo asked in a tight voice, unable to say the words.

“No. Everyone of my masters have a taste for such activities, none worse or more frequent than Lord Bates, however.” She felt mortified confessing her weakness to the king, but she swallowed down her pride and did so anyway.

“Madam Grace did nothing?” Arlo asked. Beatrice laughed humorlessly,

“She knows exactly what the intentions of her clients are, it is why they are her clients.” She said with dry humor.

“The orphanages are despicable but they are outside the authority of the crown. However, what Madam Grace has done is not. I will put a stop to her.” Arlo said with utmost certainty.

Beatrice thought about what he said and she wondered how the orphanages could possibly be outside of the crown’s authority; she thought everything was inside the crowd’s authority. But, she didn’t dare to argue with his politics. Instead, she asked the king a favor,

“I have friends at Madam Grace’s, they are more like family.” She said and Arlo smiled,

“Say no more, my dear. I will have them retrieved.”