Chapter 1 #2
“He liked Phil. He knew him since we were kids. It’s…
fuck, Ced, I just don’t know how to deal with all this crap,” I stammer out, trying to put my thoughts into words.
“I mean, Phil was always there. He was… no, he IS my conscience. How am I supposed to do this without him? Damn it, how am I ever supposed to fill his shoes?”
The pressure and the weight my brother left behind for me to bear are immense. I’ll never be able to live up to it. Never.
“By just doing it, Nic. You know the rules. You know what matters. You know what Phil would’ve liked to change. You just have to pull yourself together. And if anyone can do it, it’s you.”
I glance at Cedric, who’s looking at me seriously, and I swallow hard.
“Yeah, I just need to pull myself together. Hmm…” I laugh bitterly. “And yet, it still won’t be enough for my father. I’m not Philipp.” The truth still tastes like ash. I will always be the rebellious son who doesn’t want to conform, no matter how hard I try.
“When you’re king, none of that will matter. Until then, you’ll just have to suck it up and get through it. He can only get to you if you let him. Show him you’re not the same Nicolas you used to be.” Cedric looks at me, knowingly, almost admonishing.
He keeps telling me to take a step toward my father, but it’s not that simple. And I fear that after Philipp’s death, it’s only going to get harder.
“We’ll see. What do we do with him now?” Not wanting to dwell on the topic any further, I nod toward Damien, who’s still sitting apathetically on the ground.
“Let him sober up and take him home, as usual. He’ll get through it. He has to. We all have to.” Cedric looks pensively at the city lights again, and I can hear the sadness in his voice.
He gives my shoulder a brief squeeze and then settles down next to Damien, while I continue staring out at the city and my country.
Even though I want to be alone, having them here gives me the support I need.
And they know it.
An annoying beeping sound reaches my ear as I groan and roll onto my side to see what’s bothering me. My head is pounding hard, and when I open my eyes, a sharp pain shoots through my skull.
Oh, fuck.
But the beeping doesn’t stop, and I vaguely realize that it’s my phone.
“Damn it, man, turn that off,” comes an irritated voice from the other side of the room, and I grope around on my nightstand for the noisy culprit.
Get your ass here, or you’re going to have a huge problem. I can’t stall them any longer.
Oh, damn it!
I’m instantly sitting upright in bed, even though my brain doesn’t appreciate it one bit.
My father. I overslept.
Fuck.
On my way. Sorry. Thanks.
In my mind I thank my little sister Lizzy for this, and immediately I feel a stab in my chest again.
She lost her brother too, and I haven’t spared a single thought for her.
I neglected her over the past few months, too, all because I’m a selfish jerk.
Exhausted, I haul myself out of bed and actually manage to be standing outside my father’s study fifteen minutes later.
Lizzy walks toward me, and I can’t help but feel sick.
My stomach churns as I see her red-rimmed eyes, the deep shadows beneath them, and the pain in her gaze. Without hesitation, I pull her into my arms and hold her tightly. Her small hands cling to my sweater, and her body shakes with silent sobs.
“Nic…” Her voice breaks, and I gently rub her back in comfort. Guilt crushes me, knowing that I was so absent the past two weeks. She had to face it all alone because I was too selfish.
Damn it.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here,” I try to soothe her, realizing how empty my voice sounds.
What good is it to Lizzy that I’m here now, when I wasn’t there when she needed me the most?
“He… Lia, she… Oh God.” My little sister pulls away from me, and in her eyes, I see so much sorrow but also fear.
“Lia?” I ask, unable to place the name. Only when a cautious expression creeps onto Lizzy’s face does it dawn on me who she means.
Lia. Amelia.
Immediately, a storm brews within me again. She’s still alive. She’s still here. Philipp is not.
Lizzy notices the shift in my posture and looks at me with alarm.
“Nic… it’s not her fault. Not in the slightest. She…” My sister doesn’t get to finish, because the heavy door behind me opens, and a deep, cold voice speaks.
“Elisabeth! Go, your mother needs you.” A clear warning not to continue. Lizzy lowers her gaze in sadness and despair, nods, and gives my hand a gentle squeeze before slipping away.
My anger grows and grows, twisting into a massive knot in my stomach. My hands clench into fists at my sides, and I breathe in and out through my nose, tense.
Don’t lose it.
Don’t lose it.
“You’re late. But given the unusual circumstances, I’ll be a bit more lenient today. Come in.”
I turn slowly to face my father, his face a rigid mask. No emotion can be seen, and even his voice gives nothing away. Cold, calculating, businesslike. As if it hadn’t been his eldest son who was buried yesterday.
“Father,” I force out with strained control, moving stiffly past him into his study, only to freeze.
Because the Duke of Perlington and his sister are already present.