No matter how Rachel objected, the two ladies refused to give up. But of course they wouldn’t. If a young girl like Rachel could cow them, they never would’ve made it as royal instructors.
Rachel stayed hidden behind the curtain as she shouted, “What point is there in taking royal lessons when my engagement to His Highness has been broken?!”
“You need to have an education befitting the future queen of this country!” Duchess Somerset shouted back.
They were talking past each other.
“I told you, His Highness—” Rachel began.
“What Elliott says is immaterial!” Duchess Somerset interjected, shouting Rachel into silence. “You are to be queen, Rachel, and that is final. The queen’s decision to continue your lessons means Their Majesties intend for this to happen. If we beat some sense into Elliott, he’ll be more reasonable!”
The duchess’s views on education were a relic of a past era.
“And what if he still refuses?!” Rachel asked.
“Once I beat some sense into him, he’ll be reasonable!”
The duchess would probably get along great with Martina.
“I don’t want the engagement either!” Rachel ranted. “I don’t want to marry a nitwit with nothing going for him but his looks!”
Even though the comment came from his now ex-fiancée, it still discomforted Elliott. Not that the ladies noticed. They were in the middle of their heated argument.
“It’s because Elliott’s such an empty-headed narcissist that we need a queen who has her act together!” Duchess Somerset explained. She was getting worked up, but she still hadn’t noticed Elliott and his entourage. “I always knew that with that head of his, useless as a pot with a hole in it, he would never last as king. He is the heir simply because the oldest son inherits, but that is precisely why we need you, someone who’ll be able to cover up all the cracks.”
The lady was laying bare painful truths that Elliott never wanted to hear.
“I don’t want to be queen or marry His Highness!” Rachel hissed.
“A trivial detail that does not matter to me!” Duchess Somerset replied.
“Could you try to care?! It’s pretty important, you know?! How about showing some respect for my opinion?!”
“As a noblewoman, you have to expect a political marriage! His Majesty wants this marriage, so you have no say in the matter!”
“But I don’t wanna marry that moron!”
Elliott was still caught in the crossfire. He could barely stay on his feet with all the hurtful barbs aimed at him.
“If you don’t want him, then Raymond is an option,” Duchess Somerset stated. “They’ve chosen you to be queen. They’ll decide who is to be king later.”
“That’s backward!” Rachel retorted. “Normally, the royal family is supposed to swap out the wife, aren’t they?!”
“You can’t keep a country going if you’re that soft!”
The women went on saying whatever they pleased as Elliott fell to his hands and knees.
“Prince Elliott! Pull yourself together!” Margaret pleaded.
She reassuringly rubbed Elliott’s back as she glared at the arguing women from behind. She decided to step up and say something on his behalf, as reckless as that might be.
“Hey, where do you get off, talking about Prince Elliott like that?! He rose up against Rachel’s tyranny because it couldn’t continue any longer!”
“Margaret!” Elliott squealed. Her words had moved him and brought tears to his eyes.
“Prince Elliott!”
The pair stared deeply into each other’s eyes. It was a touching moment, soon to be rudely destroyed by a couple of finely aged ladies.
“Elliott?! You have the audacity to show yourself in front of us?!” Duchess Somerset questioned.
“You’ve always run away from your lessons, Elliott, so I knew you would never amount to anything worthwhile, but...” Countess Marlborough paused for dramatic effect. “It’s so convenient that you decided to show your face here! I’ll show you there are things you cannot get away with!”
“I-I did the right thing!” Elliott stuttered, trying to defend himself.
“I said...!”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Countess Marlborough strode toward Elliott, her face a mask of rage akin to those of the ogres of legend. “I can see that your attitude will need to be rectified before you’ll be ready to apologize to Rachel!”
“Huh? Wait, what are you...?!”
Countess Marlborough suddenly grabbed Elliott and forced him to bend over.
“Whuh?!”
She tucked Elliott, an almost-grown man, under one arm, and...
Slip!
“Huh?!” Elliott screamed.
“Eek!” Margaret shrieked.
The countess had pulled Elliott’s pants down to his knees.
“What are you doing, Lady Marlborough?!” Elliott asked.
“I ought to ask you the same thing! I am going to punish your foolish behavior and let Rachel see how sincerely sorry you are!”
Countess Marlborough raised her hand, then swung it at Elliott’s surprisingly smooth posterior.
Smack!
“S-Stop it!”
“I’ve only struck you once! Have some spine!”
“Th-That’s not the issue here!”
The countess was having none of his lip, and she raised her hand again.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!
A satisfying sound echoed through the dungeon.
“Please, stop, Lady Marlborough!” Elliott entreated her. “Think of how this looks for me!”
“I will not!” the countess asserted.
The spanking only got more intense.
“Stop it! Stoooop!”
Elliott wasn’t begging her to stop only because it hurt. Margaret, the love of his life, was watching. Hateful Rachel was peeking out from behind the curtains too. His hangers-on, whom he needed to appear dignified in front of, were looking on, petrified. Everyone he didn’t want to look bad in front of was here, and an old lady was smacking his bottom like a naughty child. The physical pain was nothing next to the utter humiliation! Not that Countess Marlborough cared one whit about that.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!