28. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
VERONICA
The day I watched my mother be placed in the ground was the first time I truly processed grief.
At the time, I was so little it hadn’t registered until I figured out she was never coming back.
No matter how many stars I stared at or wished upon, she never returned to me.
Things got better, when my Uncle Thomas gave me a new life, one with Sebastian in it.
All the sadness I held onto was lifted, healed.
Sure, I always missed her, and will never change, but at least I could smile again.
Sebastian gave me a reason.
When we were banished, those smiles turned quickly into frowns.
However, I was older. I was able to understand a lot of things more clearly, but I didn’t understand why we left.
Then Uncle Thomas died, and I was alone.
Again. I was eleven. Georgina was at his funeral, but Sebastian wasn’t.
She held me as I cried, and I begged her to bring me back with her. She left a few hours later.
Gareth came soon after.
He was the only family I had left, and he wasn’t even blood.
Even with all of the tragedy in my family, all of the grief I went through… nothing compares to the hole I managed to put myself in.
As Sebastian said, our arrangement is over. I’m no longer his handmaid. He’s made it a point to never be in the same area as me. A master at avoiding, which I already knew, but I never thought he’d hide from me. It’s everything I deserve.
How did I think I would get away with it? Life isn’t some fairytale out of a book my mother would read to me. My life especially. My life is a certified nightmare.
Now the reaper is coming for the rest of me. It was only a matter of time before someone else found out. Once the king and queen got news, I’d be executed. That is, of course, if I come up negative when I have to take another test.
Execution seemed less painful.
If I am pregnant… well, I don’t even want to think about that.
I can’t. I’m already spiraling because Sebastian won’t even give me a chance to explain why I did, what I did. Adding pregnancy to the mix sounds cruel. With my life’s track record, I don’t doubt for a second, I am.
God, why did I do this?
Gareth was right. Nothing good comes from me rushing headfirst into a bizarre idea. I saw an opportunity and I took it, without thinking of what could go wrong. In my head, I was naive. Sebastian would find out and we would run away together like we wanted to as children. Stupid. Stupid.
“Victoria.”
Addie’s voice is soft, wary. Everyone has been avoiding me like the plague, and I can’t blame them. She was in the room alongside Margaret when Sebastian found out. Thankfully, they are still under the illusion of me being Victoria. That will come to a screaming halt soon, I’m sure.
The towels I’m folding are neatly stacked on the table in front of me. I’m surprisingly good at folding towels, so at least something good has come out of this. If I make it out of Hawthorn palace alive, maybe there is some sort of towel folding job I can get. At least I won’t screw that up.
“Yeah?” I say. Addie takes another step into the laundry room, her gaze dropping to the towels before she looks back to me.
She’s not snarking or telling me I’m folding them wrong, despite knowing for a fact I’m not. What is going on now?
Her eyes hold mine, a flicker of unease wavering through the blue hues. A beat of anxiety rushes through me and I drop the towel to the table. Every valve in my heart is on overdrive, keeping me alive while my mind spins with every possible scenario.
Footsteps pull us out of the sad staring contest and I all but fall over when I see the head butler, Phillip, standing in the doorway. His lips are pressed in a firm line, creases lining the corners. The stoic man drops his gaze to Addie once before his attention is solely placed on me.
“Follow me, Ms. Pierce.” My heart sinks.
“Where are we going?” I ask quietly. My voice shakes despite my half-hearted attempt at controlling it.
Phillip narrows his eyes on me and the blood circulating throughout my body runs cold.
“You are in no place to ask questions. Now follow me.”
Addie stays behind as Phillip ushers me through the near silent hallways leading to the main wing of the palace.
This is the first time in days since anyone has called upon me to do anything.
Georgina was doing everything she could to keep it all under wraps, and from what I know, the king and queen were told Sebastian was tired of the ‘chore’ of fucking a handmaid.
It stung, but I knew the real reason behind it.
“That’s… wait, why are we headed for the king’s office?”
Phillip doesn’t turn, his silence overwhelming me completely.
It doesn’t matter how silent he is, because the closer we get, the louder the shouts from inside the office.
I immediately piece together it’s Sebastian shouting, and my anxiety spikes to an unhealthy level.
The butler doesn’t allow time to calm myself before his large palm presses to my lower back and I’m forced inside.
The room goes silent, ten pairs of eyes shoot over in my direction.
I’ve never been more thankful for Phillip, his hand keeps me from falling over completely.
He must understand, because his hand lingers firmly in place, to prevent me from making more of a fool of myself.
After a moment, he steps back, bows his head and leaves without a word.
Mary sits on a velvet lounge chair, her leg crossed elegantly over her knee.
The corner of her lip twitches subtly. She’s loving every minute of this.
I know she is. Georgina stands to the side, her arms behind her back, expression neutral.
I want to run to her like I did when I was a child. She always got me out of trouble.
“Ms. Pierce.” King Deacon’s deep voice echoes throughout the room. Seated at the mahogany desk, he exudes quiet composure. Queen Sophia stands at his side, her delicate hand settled on her husband's shoulder. “It seems we have run into a complication.”
Sebastian snorts angrily and I flinch, my shoulders tense.
“Have you not listened to a word I’ve said, father?” Sebastian’s voice is clipped, frustration and rage seeping into every word. “There is no complication. This is my choice and mine alone. If she isn’t pregnant by now, she never will be. How long did you expect me to continue to fuck the help?”
The… help?
Realization dawns on Sebastian's face, and for the first time in days, his gaze finds mine.
His brows furrow, guilt clouding the honey-colored depths of his eyes.
I blink rapidly, fighting back the tears threatening to spill over.
My stomach lurches and nausea seeps in, making its way up until the back of my throat burns.
Sebastian looks away, his own throat bobbing as if he is swallowing words better off silenced.
“Let’s settle it with a test,” Mary cuts in, amusement playing in her words. “Sebastian is right: if the maid isn’t pregnant by now, she never will be. Didn’t you say we are running out of time, My King?”
The chair Deacon sits in scrapes against the marbled floor, his gaze locked on Mary.
“Georgina, bring Ms. Pierce to take a test. Come back with it sealed.” Deacon’s demand is clear.
Georgina wastes no time ushering me out of the room.
Her arm slips through mine to stop the shaking from raking through me.
She’s silent, there is nothing she could say that could possibly calm me right now.
I can’t get his words out of my head.
The help.
Is that all I am to him? Even with Sebastian knowing who I truly am. My uncle was the help, and now… I am. Everything has been a lie.
All of it… all of it has been a fucking lie.
It takes a few minutes for the test to complete, though I won’t be the one reading the results.
Georgina gave me the test, watching me take it, before placing it in a plastic container.
She holds it carefully, making sure the strip stays flat as we make our way back to the king’s office.
Sebastian is sitting down now, his posture rigid as his dulled eyes stare out the large windows.
He’s furious; so am I. Every ounce of sadness I felt is replaced with burning rage after he spoke his true feelings.
I was never special.
I was never forever.
I was convenient, someone who could be used as a play mate while no other kid paid attention to him. I was the poor girl from the village with the uncle who just happened to also be nothing but the help.
“Pregnant.” Deacon declares.
I am pregnant.