Chapter 70 Divide
Lord Gabriel dropped dead on the floor, blood gushing out of his head, the spear thrown at Lord Sloane, lodged firmly in his head.
Isabella covered her mouth to prevent herself from screaming, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “What have you done?”Lord Sloane whispered, the fear in his eyes imminent.
Damien scoffed. “Exactly what I should have done a few years ago.” There was barely any remorse in his voice. Instead, it was laced with arrogance, daring Lord Sloane to an argument.
Lord Sloane gulped. If he had aged twenty years more a few minutes ago, it seemed like he had witnessed an entire generation live their lives just within these few moments.
Damien turned around arrogantly, glancing at the remaining members of the council. “Is there anyone still against this?”
The other members of the council turned away, their eyes glazed with fear. “Good,” Lucien nodded approvingly. “I thought as much.”
Lord Sloane swore loudly under his breath. “You won’t get away with this.” His voice was resolute. “Guards,” he screamed.
The doors to the tower opened and some men stepped in. Isabella took a step back, her face filled with horror. She had been quiet, watching things unfold. This was a rash move on the part of Lord Slone.
“Arrest this man,” Lord Slaone pointed at Damien. “He is an impostor who is trying to take the place of the king.”
Isabella motioned to him. ‘No.” she mouthed. ‘Stop,” but Lord Sloane was too focused to get her signals.
Rather than walk towards Damien, the men walked towards Lord Sloane. “W…What…what are you doing?”
Lord Sloane spluttered, his eyes widening. “He’s the…the…” The words were stuck in his throat as one of the guards twisted his arms, making him scream in pain.
“He's the one you should arrest!” He hollered at them, twisting his arms.
“Be careful with him guys, he's an old man and should be handled with care,” Damien said snidely, a thin smile creeping at his lips.
“Stop! Stop!” Lord Sloane dragged his legs, preventing them from taking him away. “I have a question for Lord Hale.” He screamed.
“Let him speak. He was afterall, the spokesperson and should still be given a semblance of respect.” Damien mocked.
The guards stopped, as Lord Sloane turned around, his eyes red from the betrayal.
“You know, I'd always suspected something off about you, but brushed it off, thinking I was too protective. I should have known.”
“Yes, you should.” Damien mocked. “Whose fault is it now?”
“Mine,” Lord Sloane said, nodding in regret. “It's mine, but it's just for a while. You can never be king. Not while I'm alive.” He spat.
Damien shrugged. “That's no problem at all. I could kill you right now and solve half of the problem, but I won't.”
“Damien,” Isabella croaked in a pleading voice. “Please,”
Damien spun. “I don't think you and I are that much acquainted to go on a first-name basis, Ms Thorne.”
Isabella recoiled, his words hitting her like a stinging slap. He was using her exact same words back on her. Only this time, she wasn't pleading for herself. It was for the older man.
“You're right, we aren't.” She mumbled.
Damien nodded and turned his attention back to Lord Sloane. “What do you say, dear Lord Sloane? Kill you now and become king? Or don't kill you and still become king?”
The guards bellowed at Damien’s taunts.
“Take him away,” he gestured as he turned his back.
The hall remained silent, as some of the members of the council looked up in fear.
The other half, like Lord Harlan and the ones he had recruited, seemed to be enjoying the show.
“Anyone else, opposing my entrance to the throne, except of course, our Lady Isabella Thorne?”
The men looked around, their lips tight.
“It's not too late to speak up,” Damien coerced, giving a small disarming smile. “There is, you know, something called free will.”
He turned to Isabella. “My dear Isabella Thorne.”
“Do not call my name.” Isabella fired fiercely even though she could hear the sound of her heart.
Damien shrugged. “I won't.” He smiled. “What do you say? Want to be my queen or?”
Isabella spat. “This is not over. Don't forget that you can't take the throne unless you actually win the war.”
Damien chuckled. “Ahh, the war. Is that your last resort?”
Isabella curled her lips, deciding not to entertain him any longer.
“Then let the war begin,” Damien said simply, making Isabella whip her head up in surprise.
“Y…you're ready to go to war?” She stuttered. “How selfish can you be?”
A guard stepped up, ready to strike her, but Damien stopped him.
“Selfishness. That's actually a word.”
Isabella ignored his flimsy attempt at goading her. “Are you aware of how many people will die due to this war?”
Damien shrugged. “As long as I get to be king.”
Isabella clenched her hands, painfully aware of the Moonlit blood threatening to come out. She swallowed, choosing her next words carefully.
“You know, if there's one thing I'm grateful for, it's that I didn't get to marry you. Poor Victoria.”
“Well, that's a shame, isn't it?” Damien giggled. “Because you would have been the queen.” His voice held pity.
Isabella looked away, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall.
“Lucien won't sit back and watch this happen.” She croaked.
Damien let out a loud unsettling laughter. “That's amazing, isn't it?” He held the table for support, as he laughed.
A shadow crossed Isabella’s face, a strange feeling of fear settling in her heart.
“What have you done?”
“Done?” Damien looked at her, a questioning expression on his face. “What have I done?” He asked again.
“I haven't done anything, baby girl. We've been here together, haven't we?”
“Don't take me for a fool, Damien Hale.” Isabella fired, her fingers shaking as she pointed at him. “You know exactly what I'm asking.”
“Oh,” Damien smiled. “Lucien Blackthorn?” He turned to a burly man who stood a few feet away from Isabella.
“Chuck, can you please remind me what we did to Lord Blackthorn, I can't seem to remember. We've done a lot in the past three hours.”
The man called Chuck stepped forward. “Lord Blackthorn has to be the man with the silver hair my Lord?”
“Yes, Chuck. That man.”
Isabella gasped, the tears finally falling. “What did you do, Damien? What have you done?”
Damien smiled. “Ahh, nothing. Just a few stabs to the chest, but he escaped right, Chuck?”
The man nodded.
“Then you have nothing to fear, Isabella.” He said, giving her a dirty smile.
Isabella could feel her heart burning. “I would love to go to my quarters.” She mumbled lowly, but still loud enough to be heard by him.
Damien nodded. “I agree. I still have unfinished business here.” He said, turning to the other members of the house.
“Chuck here, will escort you to your quarters.” He said and waved her away, leaning backwards to the chair as he faced the people.
Isabella walked slowly to the door, her dress in her hands, escorted by Chuck on both sides.
She stopped at the door and turned slowly to Damien. “Lord Hale?” She croaked.
Damien turned.
“Fuck you and your…”
Her words were interrupted by a huge blow from Chuck.
Isabella groaned, spurting blood.
“Take it easy on the Lady, Chuck. She's just a girl.” He said with a smile.
Isabella grimaced, wiping the blood from her lips as she turned to Damien. “This is not over.”
“No it isn't.” He said with loud laughter that accompanied her out of the door.
As she walked, she could hear his laughter. “I'll be needing a nurse,” Isabella said slowly, wringing her arms out of Chuck's hands.
The burly man let her go as he looked ahead. “You will not be assigned one.”
His voice was gruff as he looked ahead.
Isabella shrugged. “Then I'm going to bleed and die. Damien needs me alive, like it or not. And I know you're going to do all that you can to keep me alive.” She said dryly.
Chuck looked away, grabbing her arm again as he turned.
“Where are you taking me?” Isabella’s voice shook, as she looked around. He was dragging her off the course of her chambers.
“Where else?” He muttered.
“You're hurting me,” she cried softly, pushing his arms away but he wouldn't let her go.
“And just so you know, if you're thinking of hurting me, I would have you know that Damien wants me safe and healthy. If he doesn't see that, you would be the next one to have a spear lodged firmly in your head.”
“And that's exactly why I'm taking you to see the nurse.” He said grimly, as he looked ahead, slowly letting go of Isabella.
Isabella gave a smug smile. “Very good. I'm glad we can reach an understanding.”
She said, cleaning imaginary dust off her body.”