Chapter Eight - Part Two

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Maxwell

I ponder on what just went down. Did I ruin things even further than they already were with her? Or did I help her understand me, where I came from? How far I came and how far I'm willing to go. That journal, though. Do I wish that she didn't come across it? Yes. But only because I should have been there to explain things. Now she has this image in her head that contradicts what I'm trying so hard to prove.

That book has traveled many miles and several cities, but I don't exactly know why I keep it. It doesn't tell a version I'm particularly fond of. An old friend of mine repeatedly told me to burn it and never look back. The day I refused will come back to haunt me. Today is that day.

A knock on the door breaks my concentration. The constant knock forces me to move even though I don't want to. There's only one person I want to speak with right now, but let's face it, she wouldn't knock.

I slip a pair of pants on since I'm still in my undergarments. Looking at the ground with sheer determination, I answer the door.

"I'm not intruding, am I?"

"No. Not at all. It's nice to see you again, Eugene. Come in." Stepping aside, I wave him in.

"Hum." His skepticism is portrayed in his voice. Instead of prying on the subject of my tiredness, he hands me an envelope and waits for my response.

The blood red stationary brings back memories, memories I wish not to be dug up. There's no need to ask what it is since I already know, but I do anyways for the sake of politeness. "What's this for?"

"I'm needed back and can no longer wait to see your bride. Therefore, the council has set a date for the presentation of her. I know you claim you're not ready and I won't question you, but this simple task has to be completed. It's the week after your friend Grace's party."

"Very well," I say reluctantly. I shouldn't be surprised that The High Council will put their grubby hands where they don't belong.

"Don't be so glum, Maxwell, if she's as great as you describe her to be, she'll be fine with the change of plans." He squeezes my shoulder before he exits the suite, leaving me in silence.

The door closes and when I sense Eugene is out of earshot, I grumble to myself, unable to hold back my words. They have to be said, otherwise they'll repeat in my head over and over, claiming all of my attention. "Oh, Charlie will be perfectly fine with the change of plans...since she never knew anything about the initial plans to start with," I mock.

I sit on the couch and debate how to carry out the final task that has to be completed before The High Council meeting. All I know is Charlie is not going to be happy, because blood is going to have to be shed.

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