Page 151 of Hawthorne

Joshua is red like a tomato, yelling and shouting orders left and right. I can hear everything but can’t retain one single word.

Did that man…

Vincent’s body sags deeper on top of mine, barely moving, and that’s when I start to struggle with my breathing.

“There’sblood!”

I try with all my strength to move Vincent off me, but my limbs seem to fail me, their regular strength evading me completely. Panicking doesn’t help either, not knowing which one of us is hurt.

I hope it’s me.

With adrenaline coursing through my veins, I know I won’t be able to feel the pain just yet. It all comes afterwards, when the brain finally exits survival mode.

“Vincent…” I whisper, hoping to gain his attention once again.

“You’re alright,” he whispers back, not yet moving. “You’re alright.”

Just then, his body is taken off of me, my chest finally taking a deep breath. A pained groan escapes my lips as I try to sit up, my head pounding from the hit. My eyes scour my body as my hands touch my abdomen, chest, and arms, looking for a wound. Besides the vivid reddened stains, nothing.

No.

“Vincent,” I gasp in realisation, hastily turning towards the direction he was taken to. “Vincent!”

A hand grabs my arm, pushing me back. “Your Highness, we need to check your–”

“I’m fine,” I answer harshly, freeing myself from one of the guard’s hold.

He is already being placed on a stretcher, the emergency team from the palace having arrived quickly. Someone is bent over him, at the level of his chest, and my heart squeezes in panic at the sight.

No. No.

“Was he hit?” I ask the man who keeps both hands pressuring a piece of cloth against the left side of his upper chest.

“Your Majesty, the duke will be–”

“Cut it with the pleasantries,” I cut him off. "How bad is it?”

“Ahm, I am not sure...I can’t be sure what the bullet hit or even if it has exited or is still lodged. He has lost a lot of blood, though.”

“Take him!” I order, and the man nods, transporting him alongside two others quickly.

I follow closely, ignoring everyone’s requests to stay back.

Some want to make sure I am not hurt, to see I’m alright. They all plead and follow behind, but no one dares touch me—one of the only perks of being a royal. No one dares touch me without my permission, ever.

The cold air from outside hits my warm cheeks as soon as we reach the other side of the main double doors, leading to the garden of the palace’s main entrance. The sky is dark above us, empty of any light coming from the stars and moon. But around us, from the outside lamps and all the crazy flashes coming from the other side of the gate, it feels like we are in broad day light.

Vincent is placed into an ambulance, and I head towards it, getting ready to enter. Before I can reach it, someone finally dares to touch me gently holding my forearm.

When I look back, frantic and ready to yell at the person to let go, I stop.Joshua.

“You can’t go with him. We can’t guarantee your safety–” he is cut off by my strong pull, disentangling my arm from his hold.

“I dare you to stop me,” I growl.

For a second, he freezes, but then he sighs, resigned.

“Royalty…” he huffs. “Always making things harder for others because of love.”

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