The Crown

Chapter Forty Four

Beatrice determinedly walked down the staircase toward the cell that had once held her captive.

A shiver rattled her spine as she shook at the morbid reminder. She reached out and rested her hand against the brick walls, gliding against it as she went deeper and deeper under the castle.

When she finally reached the last step, she took a moment to collect her thoughts and breathing. You are here for one reason, she reminded herself, you are here to speak your mind. To move on. 

With an assured inhale, Beatrice stepped down and walked forward into the space in front of the cell. She stared at Marcus, who was alerted of her presence. His head was pressed against the ragged brick walls behind him as he sat on the familiar, uncomfortable bench. She glanced down and noticed he was chained at his ankles and wrists, which made her increasingly comfortable. 

Marcus clenched his fists, but kept his composure. "Come to clean, servant?"

Inadvertently, she smiled. "I came to speak with you."

He cocked a brow, unamused. "What makes you think I have any interest in sitting here and listening to you speak?"

Marcus had never looked worse. His goatee had turned disheveled and randomly spread out around his face. His hair was a little longer now, uneven. Even from here, she could see how incredibly dark the circles were under his eyes. Either he was choosing not to sleep, or he could not.

Either explanation made Beatrice satisfied, anyways. 

"You do not have a choice," She told him simply, walking forward to the steel bars separating them. She wrapped a hand around one. "You are going to listen to what I have to say, Marcus Eaton. You are going to explain."

"Explain?" He laughed. "You do not command me, servant."

"I do not want to command you," she said truthfully, her voice softening slightly. "I just want to know your reasons. Why you took me from my family. From Tobias," her breath hitched. "How could you let them believe I was dead?"

Marcus stared at her. "Everything I did was to ensure my son's successful ascension to the throne. Your existence in his life was nothing more than a distraction. You persistently stayed in the castle, even after repeated attempts to tempt you to leave," he looked at her and sneered. "Like a mold."

She flinched. 

He smiled, enjoying her reaction. In what seemed like forever, he had finally seen the effects of his words on another human. His entire motivation for her kidnapping was to prove to himself and to others that he was so powerful he could forcefully change the narrative, all on his own accord. It was the reason why he regularly stared at her while their positions were reversed; she was the embodiment of how far his power could go.

Yet now, she was standing on the other side, and he was the one chained to the floor. 

He sneered and stood, stepping forward. "Let me make one thing clear, Miss Prior. I continue, and will always, own you. It was I who took you from your place in this world and held you here without anyone's knowledge. Do you understand how powerful I am?"

Caught up in his words, she had not even noticed he was standing a couple of feet away from her now. His chains are longer, she noticed. 

"You were not released. You were not allowed to leave. You were not granted freedom," he reminded her. "The only reason you stand on the other side of this cell is that you escaped. Like the rat you are."

Although his words were previously affecting her, Beatrice found his last comment...amusing. It had reminded her of her escape - the reality of her escape. That she had done it all on her own with the help of her mind, broken as it still was.