The Prince and the Slave: Book One

The Prince and the Slave Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen 

“Wakey, wakey, William. Time to get up.”

William could feel the sunlight from the window burning though his eyelids. He moaned and tried to put an arm over his face, but felt someone else push it back down.

“No, no. You've been here long enough, time to get up now.” A voice said above him, pushing his hair off his forehead again. He slowly opened his eyes and smiled as the blurry vision of Abey came into focus. She was kneeling next to him, one hand shaking his shoulder while the other held back his hair from his eyes.

Once she was happy he was awake, she jumped back down onto the floor and started clearing things around the room. William sat up, rubbing the dried sleep from the corners of his eyes. He watched as Abey worked, already fully dressed and ready for the day.

“How do you do that?” He yawned, making Abey laugh.

“Do what?”

“Be so alive so early in the morning.”

“Well some of us aren't as lazy as you!” She said with a mischievous grin as she disappeared into the wash room.

William flopped back down onto the mattress and pressed his hands into his eyes. He had not slept as well he had hoped – the images of yesterday's trip still playing in his mind, as well as the image of Abey tied up, beaten and starved. The only thing that had caused him any comfort was feeling her warm body in his arms, reassuring him that she was there and safe with him.

Abey came back out of the wash room to see the Prince lying back down, his eyes closed and his hands over his face. She sighed in exasperation and grabbed one of his arms, physically pulling him up to sitting. She had been at the Castle for almost seven months now, but it hadn't gotten any easier trying to pry the Prince out of bed in the morning.

“Come on. Get up, get ready and go for breakfast.” She ordered him, standing him up and pushing him into the wash room. “You missed lunch and dinner yesterday, and the King said it's important that you're present for the whole of today – including breakfast!”

William smiled and poked his head out of the doorway. “I love it when you order me about like that” he teased her with a smirk, and ducked back into the wash room and shut the door as she threw a shoe at him.

During breakfast William found out what was so important he must be there all day, and he wasn't best pleased with the answer.

It was a few days before Georgiana's birthday, and some of the more eager citizens wanted to present her with their gifts early. Many had tried to do this when it had been William's last birthday, but he refused – he didn't want the torture stretched out, a couple of hours he could handle, days he could not.

Georgiana, however, was ecstatic and practically jumping over the moon at the thought of her birthday celebrations being spread out over the course of a week rather than just one night. She always loved being the centre of attention and showing off, and her birthday was the perfect excuse.

“I hope I get something good” She mused as they Royal family took their seats in the throne room that afternoon, ready for the agonizing trial – in William's mind anyway – to begin. “And something pretty, It must be pretty.”

“Like a beautifully carved stake to stick in the place your heart should be” William muttered under his breath. Georgiana didn't hear what he said but shot him an angry glare anyway. She didn't want her idiot almost-brother ruining the day or stealing her spotlight.

William didn't pay attention for most of the afternoon. He spent the time staring out of the window and daydreaming about Abey, imagining what she would be doing at that moment, and whether she was thinking of him, wondering how she thought about him. Did she feel for him the way he felt for her? He certainly hoped so, and thought he could see the signs that she might...