Hawthorne

32 - New Year's Ball

Camilla White 

"I don't know," I admit, dumbfounded.

In front of me lies a silvery sheath dress with a huge slit on the side. It's something worthy of a Duchess or a Queen, not a nobody like me. But I can't take my eyes off of it.

It's stunning.

"I need you to come with me tonight," he whines, slumping in the dressing table's chair. "I'll die without you to keep me entertained!"

Christmas has passed. Curiously, Rachel didn't come back until after Vincent dragged me back into the Manorhouse. I called her and she told me it'd be alright and that we'd set up a date to catch up. But what surprised me more was that neither the Duchess nor Edgar were there when we came back.

I still wonder where did they spend Christmas day since he spent it with me. Snuggling-in-bed-and-having-astronomical-amounts-of-sex kind of Christmas.

There's no point in fighting it anymore. I've fallen for him. I love him and I am fully aware that I'll come out of this situation wrecked but it's too late. Might as well be happy while I can.

"Oh, so I am just entertainment for you?" I cock my eyebrow and tilt my head, faking offence but knowing the amusement is present in my eyes.

"No," Edgar exclaims wide-eyed. "You're my best friend by now, but I am a nobody in an event like that one. Vincent is the star. At least this time around, I'll have someone who'll be there for me."

"I don't think it's a good idea, Your-" I am cut off by a glare. "Edgar," I sigh.

He's been adamant that I'd address him informally. It's still hard.

"Why?" He whines again, like a little boy.

"Because," I answer pointedly. "Your brother will be there and you know..."

Edgar tries to conceal the smirk that wants to slip. I believe in his good intentions, in wanting to spend time with me. But I also know he also wants to enjoy irking his brother up. He knows how jealous and possessive Vincent can be. In a place where he can't.

"But you'll be my date. Meaning, he'll be bound by etiquette, either way, he won't be able to throw a fit, even if he wanted it." There it is, suspicions confirmed.

"Edgar-"

"Please," he cuts me off. "Please, please, please. I'll behave I swear!"

Such a spoiled noble brat. I roll my eyes at his antics but then I steal the dress another glance and give in, "Fine."

It's not fine. Not at all.

I am not one to cuss but I could shit my pants right now. That's right. It wouldn't be pretty but it would describe all the dread I am feeling to be facing this stone monster. One of the most famous Royal residences in the world, Buckingham Palace is an eighteenth-century construction.

The old private residence was bought and enlarged by King George III to house his wife. However, the first one to live there was Queen Victoria, still nowadays' the Royal Family's residence.

"Here," Edgar's arm extends out for me to intertwine with mine.

The carriage has brought us to the Queen's Gallery, the side that gives us direct access to the State Ballroom, where the New Year's Eve Party is being held. As he leads us inside, I can't help but be awed at the lavish decoration surrounding it.

The King certainly hasn't spared expenses for this event.

When the double doors open in front of us, a loud trumpet sounds, followed by the announcer, "His Grace, Edgar of Hawthorne and his plus-one, Miss Camilla White, have arrived."