Page 165 of Hawthorne

“So early?” he gasps. “What kind of queen are you?”The nerve!

“I will not stay here and put up with this,” I grumble, picking up another biscuit. “Take good care of my princess.” I tilt my chin, nodding at Primrose.

With that, I head for the door. Though, he follows.

“Has he arrived?” he casually asks as we cross the long corridor to the party.

“Shut up.”

“He’ll be here,” he states as if he knows something I don’t.

“No, he won’t.”

My hand reaches the doorknob, with a couple of guards right next to us. By now, they know of Edgar’s free range around the palace. It’s unusual, as they claim. But he’s everything I have left. He’s family.

Edgar cuts my thought by leaning into my ear, “Believe me,little Milla,” he taunts, his voice so similar to Vincent’s. It almost makes me shiver. Almost. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but I can bet you a title as the next Duke of Hawthorne that by the end of the night, my brother will slam that door open, storm inside the hall, and haul you onto his shoulder so he can claim you as his.”

“What are we? In a romance story?” I mock. “Your imagination goes wild sometimes.”

The door opens, and everyone swirls, looking at us. Again, the centre of attention. Ugh, I hate this.

“Your Majesty,” someone calls, and I turn to them. Another man, a count...I can’t remember any more than that at this point.“Could we—”

Bang!

The entrance doors that lead to the staircase through which all guests enter, slam open, revealing a dark-haired, fit, tall man.He’s dressed in a dark green classic three-piece suit with a long tail, giving those late 1800s vibes.

The man by my side disappears as I focus on the one on the opposite side of the room. Everyone quiets down—even the music stops playing. There’s no resistance to him. The guards know him, and he’s on the inside list. He gets free range as well.

Vincent.He’s here.

With the weight of the silence surrounding everyone, his steps echo through the room. Strong. Rhythmic. Confident.

A silent gasp escapes my mouth as I remember Edgar’s words.No.

Stealing a glance at my best friend, he smirks. Surely, he wouldn’t.Of course, he bloody did!

Two guards rush to him as they notice him approach me without hesitation but just a move of my hand freezes them in place, letting him continue.

“Wha—” I am cut off by his hand, grabbing my jaw while pressing our bodies together. His nose touches mine, sending little electric shocks through the touch.

His hot breath mixes with my ragged one as he whispers to me, “I’m miserable. My life’s not worth living without you in it.”

It’s visible. One, because I feel the same. Two, because his otherwise shiny eyes are dulled, and the dark bags underneath his eyes show me how much he has been struggling. As much as me. The difference between the both of us? Make-up.

“Vince-”

“I love you.” His voice comes out strained, pained. “I regret it all. Everything. But what I regret the most is not fighting harder for you.”

“No,” I yelp. “I was too harsh on you...I messed up, too. I–”

“Marry me,” he whispers, his dark brown eyes staring right into my soul.

“What?”

“What?”he mimics me with a scoff. “Are you going to marry any of these wankers?” He cocks his eyebrow before smirking. “Look at them.” He chuckles sarcastically. “They don’t stand a chance.”

He’s not wrong, but...I still have a part to play.

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