Page 150 of Hawthorne

I explained myself, and she gave me a chance to do it. It’s all I could ask for. Now, at least, I can live with the fact that I did all I could to win her back.

The knob twists under my hand as I prepare to leave, but her steps, coming closer to me once again, stop me. With one foot out the door, I wait.

Oh, god. I wait for the words that will make me turn around and crash my lips onto hers.

Her voice drowns everything out as she says, “Thank you for being honest. Goodbye.”

Her last words pierce through me, so much so that I can’t answer. I just nod weakly. Finally ready to leave.Except…

Heavy breaths and rushed steps catch my attention, and everything blurs as my body moves in a flash, reaching out for her just as I hear, “Death to the fake queen!”

46

Camilla of Severna

It’s true when people say that one second can be enough to change one’s life.

One second was all it took to be told my mother had passed away. I was an orphan from then on.

The moment Vincent and I locked eyes in the manor during his aunt’s memorial was another moment.

Or even the one when I read Aunt Lizzie’s letter telling me about my biological father.

All those different moments were life-changing. But none of those were as impactful as this one. Right now. Right here.

A strong male roar echoes in my brain as everything turns into a daze, “Death to the fake queen!”

Vincent turns to look at me, eyes widened with horror, stunning me in place.

Confusion is my first reaction as he runs to me while calling my name, “Camilla!”

The shouting is immediately followed by a loud bang. A sweeping force takes me out, and gravity works against me asmy back and head hit the floor. Suddenly, the pressure on my chest is stifling. My ears ring as a searing pain shoots through my skull, forcing blotches of black to blur my vision.

My head is strained with the weight, keeping me in place, stuck to the floor. Everything happens too fast, and yet, it feels like I’m experiencing it in slow motion.

As my vision slowly returns to me, I can only watch the top part of the floor-to-ceiling shelves of this room.

My ears perk up at the commotion. Heavy and rushed footsteps—several of them—mix with the incomprehensible yelling of male voices. It creeps in, getting closer and closer.

Bang.

It sounds like a shot.No.

It sounds like–

“It’s him! Catch him!” someone yells.Joshua.

“What–” My mouth is covered by a big hand, and I finally realise who it is keeping me down.

“Don’t move,” Vincent hisses.

“Death to–ahhh!” The words are cut off abruptly as the person seems to cry out in pain.

That’s when the fires of hell seem to break free.

The yelling intensifies and mixes with other sounds, some awfully similar to fighting. Or at least struggling.

This time around, I do as Vincent instructed and keep still,waiting.The dreadful voice finally disappears into nothingness as I notice, from the corner of my eye, the guard who had just brought us here, being carried away.

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