Page 108 of Hawthorne

“Please,” he cuts me off, joining his hands in a prayer position and kneeling in front of me, begging like a kid begs for ice cream. “Please, please, please. I’ll behave, I swear!”

You couldn’t convince anyone this is a man who is almost thirty years old and was raised in a noble family. Because he certainly does not behave like one.

Such a spoiled noble brat.

I roll my eyes at his antics, but then I steal another glance at the dress and give in, “Fine.”

It’s not fine. Not at all.

I am not one to cuss, but I could shit my pants right now.That’s right.

It wouldn’t be pretty, but it would describe all the dread I feel about facing this stone monster. One of the most famous royal residences in the world, Livian Palace is an eighteenth-century construction.

The old private residence was bought and enlarged by King George III to house his wife. However, the first one to live there was Queen Elora, and it is still the Royal Family’s residence nowadays.

“Here.” Edgar’s arm extends out for me to intertwine with mine.

The carriage has brought us to the Queen’s Gallery, the side that gives us direct access to the State Ballroom, where the New Year’s Eve Party is being held. As he leads us inside, I can’t help but be awed at the luxurious decoration surrounding it.

The king certainly hasn’t spared expenses for this event.

When the double doors open in front of us, a loud trumpet sounds, followed by the announcer, “His Grace, Edgar of Hawthorne and his date, Miss Camilla White, have arrived.”

The light murmur of people talking throughout the hall ceases all at once. All eyes turn to us, and that’s the exact moment Vincent's eyes lock with mine. We quickly find each other in a room full of dozens of people, but what strikes me is that he iscloser than I’d imagined, and his features are clear as day with all the strong lights.

His jaw is ticking while everyone else gawks at me and Edgar.

“Oh, it seems we’re making quite the impression.” The younger brother smirks, so sure of himself.

I guess it runs in the family.

“If I had known this would happen, I would have let you attend this party by yourself,” I whisper-hiss while trying to maintain my fake smile.

With a light tug, he gently takes us closer to the upper-class crowd. Once our feet touch the same floor as everyone else, Vincent’s body unfreezes, walking towards us. With his movement, everyone seemingly goes back to normal. There’s still some attention on us but much less.

“Brother,” Vincent greets with gritted teeth before turning to me.

If this was a cartoon, he’d have flames raging in his eyes and dark smoke coming out of his ears. Yet, on the outside, his body language is cool and composed. His hand finds mine, invisible sparks flying all around us. With a bow and light kiss on my skin, he greets me, too, “Miss White.”

“Your Grace,” I curtsy, according to protocol. “It’s delightful to find you here.”

“Likewise.”

Before Edgar or I can answer and get the conversation going, their mother shows up, standing between us, “What are you doing here?”

“She’smydate tonight,Mother,” Edgar warns her, keeping his voice cool. “Follow protocol, please.”

“One son isn’t enough?” she hisses. “Now Edgar as well?”

“Alright.” Vincent casually puts his mother’s hand on the interior of his elbow, taking hold of her so he can guide hersomewhere else, thankfully. “I’m thirsty, Mother. How about we go and get some champagne?”

Without letting her answer, he gracefully drags her away from us.

This is going to be a long night...

“Little Hawthorne! Look how much you’ve grown!” A male but frail voice sounds from behind us, making us slowly turn to find the owner of it.

“Here we go,” Edgar whispers. “It’s the king.”

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