Hawthorne

37 - Beginning of the end

***

"Ready, brother?" Edgar's voice sounds in the far back.

I kept drinking all day long. Controlling the amount just enough to not be drunk during this party, and yet buzzed enough to bear through it.

"Go pick Camilla up and don't leave her to side the entire party," I order him.

"Oh, afraid handsome men will approach her?" He smirks.

My body slouches on the chair, with a defeated sigh, making Edgar frown. I usually bite back whenever he taunts me, but this time around...

"What's wrong?" He comes closer, a concerned look on his face.

"Mother." My answer comes out clipped. "Just promise me you'll be with her and won't leave her side."

"Brother, whatever it is-"

"Please, Ed," I beg. "Do as I say."

The words come out strained as I struggle to say them. I am still the same jealous bastard, but if having my brother helping her is the price I have to pay to have her go through this, I will bear it.

The green monster has to stay chained inside its cage this time around, it's not the time or the place to give in to my primitive impulses.

He nods, but I can see it in his expression. He is weary of this, wanting to know what happened. And probably worried about both, me and Camilla. They've grown close these last few months and, even though, I can be quite possessive, I enjoy the fact that they are friends.

Hopefully, it'll be helpful in the long run.

Edgar leaves silently, leaving me with my thoughts. From here on out the time drags while rushing at the same time. Agonizing torture, rotting me from the inside out.

The dread of what my mother's plan is tonight is bringing me to dark places in my brain, constantly thinking about her and how she'll be after this. The rest of the day is a blurred haze, only until the moment, she enters the hall.

Just like when we first saw each other after years of distance, at my aunt's funeral. Our eyes lock instantly. She's uncertain, and weary but masks it to perfection with a dazzling smile. For just a maid, as my mother and many others think, Camilla holds the grace and gentleness of a true noblewoman. Aunt Elizabeth certainly did a stunt on her education.

Not only mine, but everyone else's eyes are on her. Just like when she enters any other venue. Even without wanting, she attracts all attention to her, her pose, beauty and kind eyes do the trick, every time.

They're slightly late, and I bet it was Edgar's courtesy, wanting to make them stand out tonight. Probably just to irk our mother.

That makes me steal a glance at the old witch, watching her eyes burn with fury before a smug smirk paints her face.

Fuck. She certainly has one up her sleeve.

My eyes bring me back to her, the only place I'd rather be. It's not like I could go and be attached to her every second of the event, but watching her being taken to the dancefloor by my brother does make something unpleasant stir inside of me.

They dance, and she keeps up with his guidance effortlessly, never missing a step. Her stretched lips and semiclosed eyes show how carefree she looks in his arms, enhancing her beauty and outshining every other woman in here. The elegance of her body movements combined with her low laugh makes the green jealousy bubble to the surface.

It should be me. But I fucked it up before I could get a chance.

And here I am. Powerless and watching while she slips right through my fingers.

The golden fabric perfectly covers her skin, enhancing all her exquisite curves. Edges I'd much rather be caressing right now, than standing here and waiting for mayhem to start.

Too soon, the song stops and someone steps onto the make-shift stage. I can't help but wince when the microphone's screech fills the silence for a second too long before the dreaded voice of the night decides to speak.

"I'd like to have everyone's attention, please."

My mother's voice is sickly sweet but still demanding enough to catch everyone's attention.

Ignoring her, I search Camilla through the crows once again. Still siding with Edgar, they're both looking at my mother. She's confused, probably wondering why things are happening off-script and my brother looks concerned and angry. Has he realized just what's about to happen?

Just then, he looks at me and glares, letting me know he probably does.

"I want to thank everyone for their presence. It has been an amazing birthday." Of course, it has, she's about to get what she wants. "But the reason for my true happiness and what has made this birthday of mine so special this year, lies with my older son, Vincent, who I'd like to call up to the stage."

Fuck, no.

But do I even have another choice?

When I hesitate, she glares at me, tilting her head. Just a small reminder of the consequences if I don't play my part properly. Begrudgingly, I slowly climb up the steps, positioning myself to her side, lightly behind. Dozens of eyes are on us, with a few members of the press who are used to being allowed into official events start snapping photos. The perfect trap.

"My son has been officially declared heir to the throne." She pauses, looking directly into my eyes and I swear I see an evil smile making its way onto her face. "Not only that but he's given me the best birthday present I could ask for..."

Pause for dramatics, as everyone's eyes focus on us. Except, mine are just on one person. Expectant and hopeful. Maybe she'll understand, or maybe she won't believe this is true and forgive me.

"I am so thrilled to announce to the world, the engagement of my son, Vincent Hawthorne, with Elleanor Courtenay."

Everything stops. No. Everything spins around, fast.

My heart is raging at me, for letting this happen. Demanding a better solution, ordering me to do something, to protect her heart. My brain is fighting back, trying to tell it that this is exactly what I am doing. Am I?

Her face contorts as she processes the news. I love you, is what I want to shout out instead. It's like someone is yelling and trashing inside a body of stone. A trembling hand settles on Edgar's forearm and I can't help the clench in my jaw.

My body is hitching to meet hers. The need to comfort her and tell her this is all just bullshit is big, but not as big as my need to protect her from the sea of sharks that there would be out there if she was exposed this way.

Her eyes rise and shame overtakes me. There isn't an ounce of courage in me that'll let me look into them. I am not even man enough to see her shatter as a consequence of my actions. Of my selfishness.

The low ambience music stops, as a few gasps sound, followed by some lost cheers. There might have been someone, somewhere who had expected this engagement. For years, I thought too that it was inevitable but for the last six months I had hope.

Hope that I could find something more. That I could be happy too, but no.

What does it for me, is the moment Edgar embraces Camilla and almost drags her out of the room, with her face buried in his chest. There's a burn inside me, letting me know it's going to stay around for a long time.

It's the guilt.