-Maxon-

"Your highnesses," A chorus of voices chimed as I entered a large and opulently decorated room on my father's heels.

"Starlon, where is my report on Operation Hinge?" my father said, in that stern unrelenting voice that made the scars on my back ache as if they were still fresh. He took a seat at the head of the table and I took the one at his right.

Once we were seated, the other men in the room took their seats and a portly man in a freshly starched and pressed uniform with about ten pounds of brass spoke up. "The operative, is not sending the necessary reports, therefore we cannot…um."

But now my father was giving him a look that I knew all too well. Christ, he can't be just treating everyone like this. Me, my mother, the servants, his own advisers…where did this cycle of mistreatment end?

"I don't see how this is a problem, just decapitate one of his loved ones and send it to him in a box with a warning: do you job or lose your family," my father said, and my eyes practically popped out of my head.

"We don't want to incur his wrath; he might turn on us, your highness."

"Ha, he has no right to be wrathful. He ought to be glad that we don't take his head," My father said. "Trust me on this, General Starlon, a man will do whatever it takes to protect his family."

I passed off the rest of the meeting, thinking about that poor soldier and how he would soon lose someone he loved. I was starting to feel disgust whenever I looked at my father, which was a very long time coming.

After the meeting ended and I was finally free, my father pulled me aside for what I assumed to be another onslaught of verbal abuse.

"Where is that, girl…what was her name? Allison? Aretha?" my father's voice trailed off, and I hadn't the faintest idea what he was talking about. "The one you were at the cabin with."

"America?" I blurted out and instantly felt like punching myself in the face.

"America? I could have sworn it was something else…"

"Oh, that's just the name she gives out to the various people she, um, meets…"

"Her clients?"

"I guess," I mumbled, and started slowly backing away from him. "Anyway…America is her real name…which she gave to me…after one long night of passion…ANYWAY, I have like selection stuff to do, like fifteen different girls to date all at once, so I'll be seeing you, fa—"

"So you pay her for what she does then?" My father asked, crossing his arms.

"Kind of…I did once…not really anymore, not unless she really needs it, then…I sort of just make things happen…" I stammered trying to keep this as close to the truth as possible.

"So she's your lover, then?"

"Um…I wouldn't go that far. It's more like we…you know…then she's all like, 'Maxon you're amazing,' and I'm just like, 'yeah, I know,' and she tells me she loves me…sometimes I reciprocate, other times I pretend that I didn't hear it."

"So dysfunctional lovers, then?"

"I guess…"

"Son, you forget that I was your age once," he starts, and I swallow that bile that rises in the back of my throat when he puts his arm about my shoulders. "I had my own affairs, some ended…others, not so much."

I held my breath for a moment, and time seemed to still. Was he saying what I thought he was? My father was a cruel man, an abusive man, but I had always thought that he loved my mother…he wouldn't betray her like this…she loved him more than anything else. She had to, or else she would have taken me and left him long ago.

So as I carefully watched my father pick his words and could practically see the wheels turning in his head, I felt sick. Sicker than I had felt the very first time he'd beaten me, sicker than I'd felt any of the various times that he had publicly humiliated and scolded me, because I knew without confirmation that he had cheated on my mom. It was only a question of who now.

Who was she? The words were stuck in my throat, and before I could stop myself I threw his arm off of my shoulder and pushed him away. I was angry so very angry, it filled my body like fire and turned me into a ticking time bomb. I'd blow up if I stayed here any longer, and if I attacked my father, I'm sure that it would do far more bad than good.

I could hear him laughing as I strode away. He grabbed my arm before I got far, and pulled me in close. "I'd stay away from the girl from Carolina if I were you," he said.

"You're disgusting; she's young enough to be your daughter!" I hissed. And started off again.

"I was just telling you because incest is generally frowned upon in our society…"

Stopping dead in my tracks, I turned to him, realization finally dawning. "Oh my god," I murmured.

"I should have told you sooner…there was a…clerical error she was never supposed to be here. I didn't realize exactly who she was until I received notice from her mother…"

"Who else?" I asked quietly, at first.

"Excuse me?"

"WHO ELSE?"I shouted this time and barely noticed the frightened maids fleeing the room. "Who else have you…fathered?" I repeated, much quieter this time.

"No one of consequence…there really is just one more…and he was a contingency in case your mother proved to be incapable of producing a viable heir. Since she obviously has debunked that, though, he poses a major threat to us, should he ever try to take the throne."

"Who is he?" I asked, raking my fingers through my hair.

"Don't worry about him, Maxon. He's been taken care of, as well as his mother. We won't be hearing from them ever again."

I opened my mouth to press him for more information, but my mother came into the room in a whirlwind of yellow silk. She pressed a tender kiss to my father's cheek and I turned away and started off towards the women's room before I said something I would regret.

If he thought that this conversation was over he was dead wrong.

~I feel terrible about not updating for so long :'( they'll be coming more frequently i promise!~