Page 1 of Hawthorne

1

Camilla White

After my own mother’s death at the age of fifteen, I never thought I’d be in this position again. At least, not this soon. Especially not regarding the only other person closest to me.

Elizabeth Hawthorne was like a second mother to me. Despite being part of a renowned and influential noble family, she never made me feel less than her, with me being nothing but the daughter of the old manor’s housekeeper.

At first, right after my mum died, I thought I was done for and would be going into the system until I turned eighteen, but no. Aunt Lizzie, as she kindly allowed me to address her, took me in and allowed me to stay, working part-time while I finished my studies.

She never imposed limits on my presence, letting me grow up comfortable within this manor’s walls as if it weremychildhood home—it certainly became it.

Aunt Lizzie also made an effort to connect with me. From being adamant about asking for my company in her tea time to always seeming interested in my news, asking about schoolor what interesting things I was learning. As the years went by, our bond became so strong that she became the closest I had to family.

She also taught me etiquette and how to deal with people from her background, which was extremely important because when her health first started to deteriorate, I was the one accompanying her everywhere.

It was when I graduated with my biology degree that Aunt Lizzie’s health started to deteriorate. It’s not like it was a hard choice to make…Instead of looking for a job in the area I studied for and giving my degree some use, I decided to stay and fully take over my mother’s old job.

It was only fair I’d give Aunt Lizzie back everything she gave me.

She gave me a family when I had lost mine, a home when I was left with nothing, and helped me become the woman I am today.

But now that she’s gone? I truly am alone in this world.

“Camilla, where do I put this?” a young property worker asks me while holding a huge Crown of white lilies.

This shows how much Aunt Lizzie treated everyone with respect. It’s not only the maids taking care of the service; every single worker in this property has shown up to help. Even the ones on their days off.

“Outside in the garden,” I tell him. “Right next to Mrs Hawthorne’s picture. There’s an altar there for all tributes.”

He nods and scurries off.

All preparations are in full swing for when the elite starts showing up. While Elizabeth Hawthorne had no official title due to her marriage to the late king’s bastard son, she is still part of the Hawthorne family—the most important Ducal family in the Kingdom of Monera.

While the smallest and most remote still-standing Monarchy in Europe, right in the middle of the Mediterranean, Monera is still one of the most influential governments in the world. Why?

The fact the country has the biggest stocks of nutmeg in the world, turning us into the main supplier, makes us the most unassuming economic power.

While the country excels in that and other matters…the inner political issues are…a mess. The fact that Aunt Lizzie’s late husband was the current king’s half-brother does not make them exactly welcome in court. This is especially true because the Constitution does not exclude illegitimate children from inheritance, and a lot of noble people still disagree with that rule because it means normalising adultery. Thus, I reckon many important characters won’t be present.

King Charles certainly won’t.

Even with her family’s well-renowned ancestry. This marriage was a failed attempt to clean Joseph Gotta’s bloodline, which had been stained with adultery from his birth. Even if it wasn’t his fault, he was always the one paying the consequences.They both did.

So, if neither was accepted in life, I doubt she would be in death, even if she was technically the king’s sister-in-law. Some have family and throw it away like it’s nothing, and others, like myself? They’d sell their soul to the Devil just to bring them back.

“Camilla, the first guests are arriving,” one of the maids exclaims, catching my attention.

With a mental shake of my head, attempting to send away all my thoughts, I straighten my back and dust off my clothes. The walk to the main door only takes me a minute, and as soon as I open it, the first couple of people show up.

And, so it begins…

We exchange all the necessary formal and frivolous greetings. These people will have nothing less than the maximum that is theirs by birthright, whether you agree or not.

Once the arrivals finally slow down, I walk around the main hall to make sure food and beverages are being served properly and everything is up to standard.

Her direct family members haven’t arrived yet, but I reckon it’s a matter of time until they show up. As the younger sister of the late Duke John Hawthorne, her nephews and their mother will certainly be present.

“Thank you, Camilla,” Viscount Sacromonti mutters once I bring him a glass of champagne.

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