Chapter Fifty-One

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"Your Majesty." I curtseyed as soon as I entered the room. "I came as soon as I heard."

"Sit down." King Richard gestured to a nearby chair, still standing imposingly in the centre of the room.

Sitting down seemed much more terrifying than standing, but I couldn't risk getting in even more trouble, so I did as I was told. "Thank you, Sir."

He stood, hovering over me with his severe face trained on my eyes and his arms crossed across his chest. His foot tapping against the ground was the only sound apart from a ticking clock and the dull hum of palace staff going about their duties.

I tried to steel myself for what was to come, focusing on keeping my breathing steady while ideas swirled around my head. What am I going to do?

"Care to tell me what is going on?" King Richard broke the silence between us.

"Y- ye- yes, Sir," I stumbled over my words. I wonder how much he knows. What did Clarence tell him? Where is Clarence? I looked all around, but saw no sign of anyone but the two of us.

"My son is not here, Miss Levin. It is only you and I. And I would like to know the truth."

The truth? Okay, but which version of it? I don't want to tell a different story than Clarence did, but we're on like story number five by now and I can barely get enough sleep to remember my own name. How was I--?

"I'm waiting, Genevieve." His voice was stern and impatient, reverberating off the walls and shaking the furniture.

"I love your son," I started. Do I love him? "And I used to be engaged. To that man, Josh, from the papers. He did break up with me right before I started seeing your son. I regret that you had to find out this way, but I don't regret coming here or saying yes to Clarence. My past doesn't have to define me."

A flicker of a smile crossed his face before it returned to the stern, angular position I was so used to. "That may be so--" he stepped towards me-- "but the press, and more importantly the people, will not see it that way."

"See it what way?" I asked him, trying to make sense of what was going on.

"This man..." He waved his hands wildly as he spoke. "This man, Josh, says you didn't have an internship with us last year and had never even met Clarence until a week before you came to our palace. Is that true?"

I shook my head slightly. Technically, it was more than a week, so I'm not lying. I swallowed the ever growing lump in my throat with little success.

"Well, I'm afraid without proof, or even with it, it may be impossible to repair your reputation, Miss Levin." He sat down across from me and was somehow more frightening now that he was at eye level. "I pay good money to keep my son's reputation intact, and I will continue to do so. But you I don't have to keep around. And I won't have your sour reputation dragging him further into the mud. He may be better off without you here."

Oh no, this is it. I'll never see Clarence again. I begged the tears to stay inside my eyes and balled my hands into fists to stop myself from shaking. "I do have proof," I remembered suddenly. "I can fix this!" Yeah, right. That's grasping at straws.

He raised an eyebrow and stared through me for a moment, at least appearing to give my idea some thought. "All right," he said finally, "I will give you forty eight hours to fix this mess. You fix it, you can stay. You don't, you can pack your bags and leave voluntarily with all of your pay earned to date and we won't drag you any further into this mess."

Did he just say all of my pay? I stuttered out some sound that vaguely resembled a hungry pigeon. "Of course, Sir. Two days." I sat, still staring at him, until he stood up.

"Well, what are you still doing here?"

I stood, curtsied and flew out the door all in one motion. When I finally made it to the hallway, the doors behind me closed with a deafening boom.

My startle must have been more noticeable than I thought, because one of the guards, a blond I vaguely recognized, apologized. "I'm sorry, Miss. It happens sometimes with the larger doors."

"Yeah, it's okay." I looked around, trying to remember which way anything was. "I just--"

"Can I help you with something?" he asked, searching my eyes for clues.

"No, I'm fine," I responded. "Actually, could you point me in the direction of Prince Alexandre's office."

A smirk crossed the guard's face as he pointed down the hallway to his left. "Fourth door on your right, Miss." He smiled and then stepped back to his post.

"Thank you," I called back as I took off down the hallway as fast as my feet would go. I have to find him. We need to figure this out.

"Clarence?" I called, banging on the door the guard had pointed out. "I need to speak to you please open up."

The guards outside his door were trying to hold me back and allow them to announce me, as was proper.

"Genevieve," I heard Janet call from behind me.

I whirled around to face her. "Janet! Thank goodness. I need to find Clarence! I talked to the king and--"

"Shh--" Janet shushed me loudly. "Not here. Come on."

She dragged me through the doors I'd been hammering on only a moment before and nodded to the guards as we passed.

"Genevieve, what has gotten into you?" She sat me down on a red and gold couch and then sat down next to me herself. "Clarence is in a meeting with his mother at the moment and the last thing he needs from you is to air your dirty laundry all over the palace. You do want to make this better, right? Not worse?"

I nodded, so sure I wanted to make things better, but so unsure as to how.

"So, why don't you go back to your room and take a break?" Janet asked, handing me a glass of water. "I'll send up Marinette with some food and let everyone know you aren't feeling well."

"Won't it be obvious why?" I groaned into my hands, trying to hide my face from the world.

"Probably." She shrugged. "But it gets you some time alone to think. I'll bring Clarence up as soon as I can sneak him a little break, but today is very busy. Okay?"

I nodded, standing and walking towards the door to the hallway. "Thanks, Janet."

"Any time, Genevieve."

Just like the last time I dealt with Josh, I thought to myself. Always having to ask Janet to pick up the pieces. 

 

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