Page 146 of Hawthorne

His eyes are wide in shock, and his body is still as if he can’t even believe the words that just escaped my mouth. Not even I believe myself. All it took was a look at him to give in.

What a weak, needy girl you are, Camilla.

But it would look bad in front of the entire court, showing that there is indeed bad blood between the previous heir and thecurrent queen. Dancing with him is mandatory to show peace, even if it’s an imaginary one. At least, that is what I tell myself to try and justify my feeble decision.

“That’s all I ask for.”

45

Vincent Hawthorne

The silence is deafening, making it seem like my heart’s fast-paced, thumping sounds are reverberating through the entire hall.

The woman before me has stolen everyone’s attention,including mine.

The dancefloor that was full of couples dancing just a few moments ago is now empty. We’re both in the middle of it, standing in front of each other.

Camilla’s positioning herself to dance, slowly coming closer to me. With each step towards me, my heart races faster, pumping blood quickly through my body and making me feel feverish.

The proximity is overwhelming, even if we’re not as close as I’d wish.

Once we’re a few steps apart, she curtseys, and I bow.

Each movement requires a lot more energy than usual, with the anxiety and despair of having her this close yelling at me to do something about it. In the deepest, darkest part of me, anything would be fair game to win her back.

But what is that anything? What could make her forgive me?

We both straighten at the same time, and her arms rise in position. I take a step closer, grabbing one of her hands and allowing the other to settle on my shoulder. In return, I snake mine around her, placing it in the middle of her back, holding her elbow up with mine.

I knew my aunt had taught her well, but I never knew the extent of what her education entailed. It’s like she was born for this.

She was.

Her back stiffens upon my touch, and I can’t help but look at her. From her shoulders, I notice her strained neck, keeping her chin up. The plump pink lips are pressed in a thin line and her eyes are focused somewhere close to the side of my head, avoiding mine at all costs.

She refuses to look at me.

At this point, I don’t know what hurts more, seeing it all from a distance or witnessing it up close. All because I am this close to her, but it’s the furthest away I have ever been.

Beggars can’t be choosers, and I’d rather have her in my arms one last time. One dance is more than I ever expected,more than I surely deserve.

If it weren’t for Edgar, I’d still be in that office, wallowing in my misery. Torn between being happy for her and all she’s accomplished—for having found her place in the world—and miserable for having lost her in the process.

I take the first step, and she follows as I guide us both through the dancefloor. We glide with grace, and the only thing that can be heard is the music being played by the small orchestra in the far corner.

That and my frantic heart.

Everything else is a blurry background around us.

Everything is happening in slow motion, with my attention solely on her. On her beauty and grace.

The strong notes from the violoncello take over the melody, giving it that classic tone this kind of event always aims for.

“I am happy for you,” I whisper.

She shivers. It’s barely there, but the hand on her bare back allows me to feel it perfectly. Her eyes slide to mine for just a split second, and the pain emanating from her brown irises is so like mine that it feels like lightning hitting me straight in the chest. Except, out of the both of us, she is the only one with the right to feel this way, whereas I don’t.

I deserve everything that has come my way.

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