Page 139 of Hawthorne

Think, Vincent...Think!

The only time she—

That month! That whole month, she had distanced herself...I believed she was afraid to lose me, fearing our impending end. That is part of what has made this process so hard, knowing she’d be worse than I would be.

“It must have been that month she got weird and tried to push me away,” I mumble, deep in thought.

Vincent, I don’t want to talk about this.

Her words are still crystal-clear in my memory because that was the same night I gave in and confessed my feelings out loud for the first time.

I love you.

Her eyes got so shiny then, like a spark of hope had just ignited upon hearing those words.

We chose this path. We chose the hardest way, and we’ll deal with the consequences when they come…

Camilla was right about everything. We were a ticking bomb waiting to explode.

“Why didn’t she tell me? It could have changed so much, Edgar,” I sigh again, exhausted emotionally.

“Well...I understand her position, though. Camilla has no more relatives alive. Finding out her identity made her afraid of what could happen if someone found out. Or if the wrong person found out about it. She took precautions, and she did well.”

My little brother has shown more maturity and emotional intelligence than I would ever find him capable of. The last few days, I’ve been getting by with him constantly busting my ass for what happened. In true Edgar style, I need to man up and do something about it to right my wrongs.

I miss her so much.

“She still looked beautiful,” I comment, sipping my drink. “She was perfect on that balcony like she was made for it.”

“Agreed, brother, agreed.”

The moment they showed her as the new queen was shocking, to say the least.

The manor suffered a hurricane that day. With bulging eyes and a reddened face, my mother was frozen, looking at the TV for a whole five minutes, with her hands gripping her hair tight. She almost ripped it out. But she stayed there, motionless like a statue, glaring at it as if it was guilty of murder. I mean, it was. Her dream of being royalty—mother to the king—had just been murdered.Annihilated.

For a second there, I feared she’d get a heart attack from it. She didn’t, and I have been feeling guilty for the relief I’d feel if she had.

Ever since then, I barely get a glimpse of her. She’s been cooped up in that bedroom she has claimed as hers inmyhouse. She comes outside only for three things: meals, to bark orders at my staff, and to yell about everything they do wrong.

It’s been a nightmare, and I have been very close to kicking her arse out a few times already.

However, Mother Dearest is never just sulking. She must be planning something, a way to get the upper hand. I can feel it in my bones and just as my father taught me: keep your friends close and your enemies even closer.

So, unfortunately, I need her close to know what she’s plotting this time around.

“Have you even tried talking to her?”

“Like it’d make a difference, Edgar,” I answer, my tone salty. “You know damn well she won’t answer me.”

I tried calling and texting, but it didn’t even ring. I must have been blocked, for sure.

“Brother, you know Camilla. She’s got a soft heart.”

She has.Deep down, she always will. That’s why I know she’ll be a much better ruler than I could have ever been.

I had just hoped that this move wouldn’t provoke my mother. But it has…

With this, Camilla has sent my mother and me a message.

---