Page 11 of Hawthorne

With a woman as the founder, Monera never followed the European trend of having the male children precede the females. It’s now part of our constitution that the firstborn, regardless of gender, is the heir.

So, he was given the title of First Duke of Hawthorne and a small percentage of the nutmeg business they started. Currently,the most important noble families do have small shares of it, to justify their royal income.

The Royal Family and the Hawthornes became cousins once removed since then. And the lack of other lineages makes me second in line to the Crown, after the king’s unborn child.

As if the burden of being Duke of Hawthorne wasn’t enough...

“Took you long enough,” my mother’s snide remark brings me out of my reverie.

It’s then I notice Camilla’s presence finally in front of us.

“Your Graces.” She bows to us, and my jaw clenches at the sight of her.

Unlike the last time, her face is adorned with a light layer of make-up, from which I can only recognize a little bit of eyeliner and the peachy shine from the lip gloss that covers her plump lips. My eyes linger for far too long on her lips, raising my blood pressure. As the temperature in the room increases, I look down in hopes of avoiding a disaster.

Only to regret it instantly.

She is not in a uniform, like the other employees running around the property, but she is wearing tight black pants that hug her figure in all the right places and an almost see-through white blouse that is buttoned up to the beginning of her cleavage, showing just a teeny tiny bit of what her chest might look like.

And fuck me if I don’t want to just rip that shirt off and see it from up close. Living here will be fucking torture.

“I am sorry for taking so long to meet you. One of the windows got jammed up on the noble floor, and I am the only one who knows how to make them work properly,” she answers with a calm and composed tone, finishing with a kind smile.

“Well then,” my mother trails off, giving her surroundings one last glance. “Show us my son’s quarters.”

Camilla looks at me and bows her head once more before addressing me, “We’ve prepared every single room in the manor for you to choose which one you prefer, Your Grace.”

“Nonsense.” My mother steps forward, shaking her hands like it’s obvious. “My son will stay in the duchess’ chambers.”

“Mother,” I grit. “The last thing I want is to sleep in the bedroom my aunt died in. I’d rather not,” I snark back, giving her a pointed look.

Meddler. That’s her middle name.

While I’ve let her have her way so far, I’m done being complacent. Having this house to move into and get some distance from her will, hopefully, be the freedom ticket I needed from her controlling claws.

That’s not to say I won’t do what’s expected of me. Only that it will happen on my own terms…

She huffs but doesn’t fight me on it, so I address Camilla, instead. “Please, lead the way.”

The noble floor has over twelve bedrooms, and my mother insists that I take the second largest, to which I almost agree until another thought comes to my mind.

“Camilla,” I call, her name rolling off my tongue like honey. Just uttering her name invokes weird sensations that have no business in my life. How the bloody hell am I supposed to share a house with her?

She looks back at me, expectant, and I continue, “Is there a good one by the office?” She nods. “I’ll have that one, then. On the late working nights, I’ll be too tired to walk this far just for sleep.”

She answers with a quiet “Of course” and starts walking, directing us there.

“Where do you and all the other employees sleep?” my mother asks suddenly.

“I used to sleep in a room right next to the duchess as per her request. When her health started to deteriorate, she needed someone who could be close enough in case she needed aid, but ever since she, uhm.” A gulp draws my attention back to her and concern takes over me.

A deep frown is etched onto her eyebrows. It shouldn’t surprise me how much she seems to be affected by my aunt’s death. Even if, in reality, she was only her boss, I know their bond was far beyond that.

“Say it, child. After she died.” My mother tantalises her with a cold and detached tone.

She never got along with my aunt. I don’t know if it was because she was close with my father, and it made my mother jealous…Truth is, it got so bad sometimes that Aunt Elizabeth stopped allowing her to visit alongside my father and me.

I was often the target of my mother’s attempts at knowing what happened here, even to no avail. All serious matters were discussed behind closed doors, and I was preoccupied with the sweet little girl asking me to play hide and seek with her.

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