Read Online Prince Charming by Gaelen Foley - Free Book Online Page B

pounding. For years he had endured his father’s domineering. The criticisms and impossible standards. The bullying on one hand and overprotectiveness on the other had all but wrecked his already shaken self-confidence. But this was beyond the pale.
    “This,” he said in a very calm tone, “is intolerable.”
    “Pardon?” the king asked ominously, lifting both eyebrows.
    Rafe looked up slowly from the portraits with burning fury in his eyes. Suddenly he stood, throwing back his chair.
    The ministers gasped. Orlando arched one brow. The bishop narrowed his eyes. Without another word, Rafe pivoted and stalked toward the door.
    “Rafe! What the hell are you doing?”
    “Freeing myself from you , sir!” he shouted, turning. “I am done with you controlling my life! Give the crown to Leo. I don’t want it if the price is my soul.”
    With that, he walked out, trembling with anger. Walking numbly down the hall, peeling his gloves off with shaking hands, he stared straight ahead, his mind a wall of rage. He couldn’t believe he had just done it. But bloody hell, they had trained him from infancy to be a king and then expected him to take orders like a lackey! He was done with it.
    Let the king disown him if he liked. It scarcely mattered. He had given his best and it had never been enough for the man, but Father had just pushed him too far.
    “Rafael!” He heard his father’s voice calling angrily from down the hall behind him.
    He tensed, stopping at once in spite of himself out of mere habit, like a well-trained hunting dog, an idiot-loyal spaniel. He despaired of himself, knowing that if he didn’t keep walking now, he would never be free.
    Yet all he could feel was his love for Ascencion keeping him rooted, chained where he stood, cruel mistress, forcing him to humble himself for her, as ever. Still, it was as unprecedented for Father to come after him as it had been for him to defy the king so blatantly in front of the cabinet. In his pride, he could not bring himself to turn around, but he waited where he was, his hands stiff at his sides, his gloves clenched in one fist.
    “Rafe, damn you,” the king muttered in annoyance, walking to him.
    Rafe turned with a bitter expression and met his father, eye to eye.
    Lazar pulled off his spectacles and stared forcefully at him. “You choose a poor time to make your stand, boy.”
    “I am not,” he replied in searing quiet, “a boy.”
    “Do you think I don’t know why this is difficult for you?”
    “Because this time you are forcing the most important decision of my life down my throat? Because you think me too great an idiot even to choose a decent wife for myself?”
    The king was shaking his head impatiently. “No, no. You and I both know full well that the reason you refuse to be snared is because you’re still scarred by what that woman did to you when you were nineteen. What was her name? Julia?”
    Rafe froze, glancing uneasily at him. His father’s gaze was piercing, shrewd.
    “It’s time to get past it, Rafe. It’s been ten years.”
    He looked away.
    The Debacle.
    Some people had to learn things the hard way. He, young royal fool, had been one of them, trying to save his damsel in distress. Such an easy target, with his deep pockets and his tender heart.
    Those days were gone.
    “You should have let us prosecute her, Rafe. By law, she should have hanged. You should have let me take care of it for you.”
    “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Father,” he said tersely, sickened by the memory of himself at nineteen.
    Such a noble young chevalier, so utterly sure of himself, unwilling to flinch before the rumors that his beautiful older woman, his temptress, his prize, had lain with every man in the kingdom and was merely using him. He hadn’t cared. He had been sure that if he gave her everything, in time he could make her love him for himself, not for his rank or his wealth or his looks. He had nursed Lady Julia back to health