49. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
SEBASTIAN
My mother sits alone in the dining hall. She holds a porcelain cup between her palms, staring at the tea inside. I know she hears me coming, the doors slam open without announcement, but she doesn’t startle. It’s as if she expected this, me.
The cup is set down on the matching saucer, her hands finding refuge under the solid, stained oak table.
A royal blue runner lines the length, gold tassels dangling over the side from each end.
My mother sits in her usual seat, to the right of the head chair that belongs to my father.
I cross the distance between us, the sound of my boots echoing through the ominous silence of the hall.
Only when I drag the chair across the floor before her does she lift her gaze.
Her eyes are filled with guilt, anguish.
For a moment, I’m taken aback. My mother has never shown me anything but what was necessary. She never held me just because. There was never any warmth, any love. She may be my mother, but she will never be my mom. That title has always been held by Georgina.
“Sebastian.” My mother starts, I hold my palm up to stop her.
“The beginning,” I say, forcing the anger still gripping my chest to calm, “start at the beginning.” My eyes lock with hers as I settle into the chair. “I am out of patience, so I do recommend you tell me the truth.”
She lifts the cup to her lips, taking a small sip of the tea before it clicks against the saucer once again. Her shoulders slump, breaking the perfect facade of the queen. I wish I could say her falling from power feels satisfying, but I can’t.
I won’t be satiated, not until every last person who had their hand in Veronica’s demise is slaughtered.
Including my mother.
SLAM.
My palm smacks against the finished wood of the table, the sliver of patience gone from my body. “Now.”
“I knew Veronica was going to be a problem the day she arrived with Thomas.” My mother says, her eyes drifting back to the tea in her cup.
“She was… so different from any other child you had ever been around.” Her eyes close.
“We needed Thomas, he was the best in Hawthorn and your father wasn’t going to settle for anything less. ”
I shift, pressing my back against the wooden chair.
“The two of you were inseparable from the moment she arrived. She took you out of the sheltered mindset your father demanded we keep you in.” My mother’s voice wavers, and her attention lifts back to me.
“When Thomas came to me, explaining his condition, I knew he wasn’t going to make it.
The growth in his chest was far too large. ”
My lips press into a thin line as I cross my arms over my chest. Michael was my only other friend growing up, he was from a proper family that knew my father well.
Veronica hated him, going as far as packing his new dress shoes with mud and worms from the garden.
After that, Michael didn’t come around much.
“If he died inside the palace, your father would have gotten rid of Veronica.” My mother says slowly, almost hesitantly. “I went behind his back, gave Thomas an out that would at least keep her alive for the time being.”
“You didn’t want her blood on your hands,” I say, staring at my mother with revulsion. “You selfish cunt.”
The widening of my mothers eyes is impossible to miss, her lips parting in shock. Taken aback by my words, the color in her face fades as if she is going to be sick.
“I didn–” I shake my head, cutting her off.
“I don’t want to hear your reasoning, not when I know it is of selfish gain.” I sneer.
Her chair scrapes against the floor, the elegant dress flowing around her hips. “You may be upset Sebastian but I am still your mother, you will speak to me with respect.”
I clear my throat, sliding the chair back as I rise. Tears fall down her paling cheeks; I dismiss them easily.
“Let me be clear,” I begin, leaning forward to press my palms against the table top.
“You have given me life, but that doesn’t give you the title of my mother.
” Her bottom lip trembles, and she steps backwards.
Calmly, I settle back into the chair. “Now, I’d advise you to sit back down and finish the story. ”
The banishment was planned.
Thomas Beverly was charged with theft and running, along with his niece, Veronica.
That was what Hawthorn knew, what they were told and what was written in the chronicles.
They were made out to be traitors of the kingdom and by some stroke of fucking luck, Veronica made it all those years without being killed.
She defied the odds my mother bet against her.
Only to come back to me ten years later.
I stare out the window of my office, watching flashes of lightning ignite the dark night sky every fifteen or so seconds.
Everything is a lie. You are a lie.
Veronica is right. All of it. A fucking lie. Her life was planned out for her the moment she stepped foot onto palace soil.
My mother baited her into coming back. No village girl has ever been a handmaid before.
She planted the seed, delivering the ad and Veronica took it without a lick of hesitation.
Mary’s infertility? Already fucking considered, Veronica’s loyalty to me being the key to success.
Only one woman in all of Hawthorn would go along with this plan willingly.
Veronica… she hadn’t even hesitated when it was asked of her.
How could I have been so fucking naive?
A single cube of ice sits suspended in the amber liquid, melting slowly as condensation beads along the shallow glass.
I trace my finger over the rim, willing the unbearable ache in my chest to ease.
The bourbon sloshes as I tip the glass back, the liquid to trickling down my throat.
It burns, warming my chest almost immediately. I welcome it.
On my desk is a single piece of parchment, the word Salpingectomy glaring up at me.
Once I had enough of my mother’s tears, I quickly found Dr. Moore.
He handed me the parchment without question, explaining that Mary brought it to him once she received it from me.
The signature is messy, passing for my own if only glanced at.
There was no reason for him to not trust Mary.
He even tried to reason with her, but she declared my decision was final.
I tilt the glass back, finishing the liquid off before winding my arm back.
Glass shatters against one of the bookcases, shards coating the ground in front of it.
My elbows press against the top of the desk, dropping my head into my palms. This pain that fills me burrows deep into my bones, setting my nerves on fire with no plan of extinguishing.
I didn’t want this. I didn’t want any of this.
I should have done more, gotten Veronica out of here the moment I knew who she truly was.
I should have…
“Sebastian.” Georgina’s soft voice fills the drowning silence. Her flats crunch against the broken glass as she crosses the room. I lift my head, watching as she extends her hand. “Come on, sweet boy, let’s go meet the twins.”