Vincent Hawthorne
By now, hell surely has a spot reserved for me because there is no way I can take my brother for a second longer.
"How are you feeling?"
My only answer is a nod and a grunt. Never mind his voice being annoying, he's irking me up just for breathing in the same room I am.
"Have you seen her today?"
He knows damn well l fucking haven't. She avoids me like the plague.
"She's gorgeous, as usual." He smirks. Wanker.
"Fuck off!"
It's been two weeks since I got shot. According to the doctors, I was lucky. A few inches below ad it could have caught an artery--or the heart who knows. It was the blood loss that made it worse. For one week and a half, I was wasting away in that damned hospital. Now, I am wasting away in this stupid Palace.
At least in the hospital, some people would talk to me without fear or disdain. Here--besides my annoying brother--I always find one or the other.
My mother was allowed to visit once a week, with the supervision of the Royal Guard at all times. It was funny, to see the show she created a scene in the hospital until she got threatened to either behave and visit me or not see me again while I am in treatment.
It may seem cruel but I felt relieved. It meant the choice of telling her to leave was being made for me.
There's a voice inside that keeps telling me she is behind this. I just don't know how to prove it. And while I know I wasn't the target, knowing she'd be willing to kill Camilla just to see me take that crown makes it even worse for me.
It's probably down too late for this but I want to cut off ties with her. She may be my mother but that's it. Even Edgar is living here now, hopping on the Manor now and then just to make sure everything's alright. Which it is. Mariah has been doing an exceptional job as the new Housekeeper. So he says...
"It's almost time for your daily walk," Edgar informs me.
As if I don't know. There has been this strict schedule of meals--and meal plans--physiotherapy and walks around the Palace's private gardens. Daily, I see from ten to fifteen different people and none of them is her.
Just as expected, a knock sounds and one of the maids peeks in.
"Your Grace---"
"Yeah, yeah," I grumble, cutting her off. "I'm going."
Edgar helps me stand up, and when we both turn to her, she stammers a little bit, "He-her Majesty requested both of you at the Audience Hall.
What?
"Come on brother, I think our Queen has found the perpetrator."
My stomach sinks in. This dread slithers underneath my skin ad my brain anticipates what's about to happen. I think I know what is about to go down and as much as I think it's necessary... I am not prepared for it.
My brother walks by my side, looking now and then, just to make sure I don't need help. I am still fully immobilised on my left side, up until the stitches are to come out, that area has to be very well tucked in. But it seems as if everyone thinks that it has affected the rest of my body. When it surely hasn't.
"Stop worrying about me," I grit out in a low tone so the maid ahead of us doesn't listen.
He scoffs. "You may be an asshole but I still love you."
YOU ARE READING
Hawthorne
רומנטיקהCamila has lived and worked all her life in Hawthorne Manorhouse. It's all she's ever known along with the kindness shown by her boss after her mom's death. But now she's gone too and her future is uncertain. The Manorhouse is to be inherited by som...
