Suddenly, his father hit out with a hard punch, connecting with the side of Ansel's face and sending him staggering backward. He followed it with another fist to the stomach which knocked the air from Ansel's lungs. Dizzy, Ansel leaned forward, wheezing as he tried to catch a breath.
"How long did ye ken?" Edric demanded harshly, the false geniality disappearing to be replaced with an ugly hatred. "How long did ye ken who she truly is?"
"I… dinnae ken… what ye mean—" Ansel started.
The next blow smacked against his temple, and the room turned white as pain screamed through Ansel's skull. He didn't remember falling, but the next thing he knew, he was sprawled on the floor, his father glaring down at him.
"Howlong?" Edric roared. There was spittle forming around his lips and his eyes were wild. "Did ye ken the whole time that I was harborin' aMcNairunder me own roof?"
Ansel's brain wasn't working properly, but the shock of fear at those words jolted through his body with the strength of a bolt of lightning. How did he know? How could he know?
"Lorcan overheard her in yer tent, ye fool.The McNair princess.I didnae want tae believe it, but when I saw her, I sawthat bastard Robert McNair starin' back at me." Edric spat to the side. "There's nae denyin' it. And if she's real, then the dirty-blooded slime tryin' tae steal me throne trulyisCailean McNair. Is that right?"
When Ansel didn't respond, Edric kicked him hard in the ribs once more, and Ansel grunted through gritted teeth at the agony.
"I asked if that was right!" Edric snarled.
"It's right!" Neala shouted. "Me brotheristhe rightful king, and he's comin' tae destroy ye. The whole of Scotland has kent it before ye did. And ye call yerself a king!"
Edric's wild expression contorted as he tore his eyes from Ansel and toward her. "Ye plot against me. Ye corrupt me nephew and force me tae destroy him. And now ye conspire with me own son!"
Neala laughed coldly. "Yer son! Ye think this weak man kent anythin' of our plans? He thought me nothin' but a simple maid when I seduced him here in this very castle, and he would have killed me in a second had Baldric nae helped me tae escape first. Yer son is just as much of a fool as ye are."
Ansel's scrambled brain tried desperately to understand where she was going with those lies. What did she hope to achieve? He wished his head would stop aching so that he could do something other than just lie there and bleed.
"It was Cailean's idea," Neala replied in that same cold tone. "He kent I had become the prince's lover durin' me time here. We thought that I could manipulate him intae joinin' us. The ultimate betrayal; turnin' yer own son against ye. I should have kent he would refuse me. He's as worthless as ye are. I barely escaped with me life—until yer men found me and brought me here, anyway."
Edric grunted. "Get up, lad," he ordered.
It took a few tries, but Ansel was able to pull himself unsteadily to his feet. When his head stopped spinning, he facedNeala. She had bruises on her face and arms, and when she met his eyes, she wore an expression of deliberate cold neutrality that Ansel knew all too well. His soul shook as he met her gaze.
Neala scoffed. "Pathetic wee dog ye've got there, Edric."
Edric moved forward suddenly and grabbed Neala's chin, yanking her head up so that she was staring at him. "Ye think ye're so clever. Ye think ye're better than me, stayin' under me roof, stealin' me hospitality, manipulatin' me only son with yer disgustin' feminine wiles."
"I think the dirt on me shoe is better than ye," Neala replied cooly.
Edric's fingers tightened painfully on her face, pressing hard into the bruises that were already there. Neala kept her expression calm, but Ansel saw the flinch of agony she tried to hide.
"Ye've done me a service today, whore," Edric told her. "Ye've proven tae me that me idiot son isnae the traitor I feared—just a pathetic, weak fool who allowed himself tae be manipulated and let ye escape him twice. Nevertheless, a fool can still have his uses."
"Father," Ansel started.
Edric ignored him, continuing to address Neala. "I had planned tae take ye tae me bed when ye arrived. But now that I ken who ye truly are, I wouldnae taint me body with yer filth."
"So what will ye do?" Neala asked. "Kill me? Go ahead, do it now. Me brother will take his vengeance from yer flesh."
Ansel wanted to scream at her to stop, but the words wouldn't come out. He felt frozen in place, completely unable to act, torn by his heart and his duty. If he moved now, he would ruin everything, but if he didn't…
"Me!" Edric laughed. "Nay, wee temptress. Yer execution will be public, as it should be. We'll show these rebels that theirprecious princess has fallen before the true king. AndIwillnae be the one who does it."
"Oh?" Neala cocked an eyebrow, looking devastatingly uninterested. "I hope yer swordsman keeps his weapon sharp, then."
Edric dropped her face and stepped back, clapping his hand on Ansel's shoulder. "This is yer mess, lad. Ye'll fix it."
"What?" Ansel asked. There was a ringing sound in his ears.
"Two days hence will be the first of a new month. Let it also be the last of a dyin' dynasty," Edric replied. "On the dawn of overmorrow, ye'll clean up yer mess and put her tae the sword in front of our gathered followers."
