Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“Sophia!” I hollered, going two, three stairs at a time until I got to her.
She didn’t move, just stayed kneeling, sobbing.
“Are you all right—”
“Do not touch me!” she screamed, smacking away my hands, and I pulled back, not sure what to do. “How could you bring her here?”
“What?”
“How could you bring that woman here today! Today, was my—was our introduction day! Arthur and me. May eight! None of you remembered? No one spoke about him today! He hasn’t been gone a year!” she screamed in my face, and I could only stare at her in horror because I did forget. She pushed herself off the ground, wiping her eyes harshly. Lifting her head high and standing straighter, she composed herself.
“Arthur remembered everything about you. He would never speak of anything else if anything important were happening to you. Your birthdays, your graduations, your honors, your scandals, and stupid mistakes he spent days fixing! ‘Gale needs my help. Gale is more sensitive than you think. I have to be there for him. Yes, he did something stupid, Sophia, but what can I do? He is my brother. It is harder to be the spare than the heir’ is what he would say. Over and over again.”
The tears slipped from her eyes, and she did not bother stopping them.
“And now, here you are, the new heir, and you are still selfish! Because you are still Gale. And you have never thought or cared about helping Arthur! Now he is dead! He is gone forever, and the least you could bloody do is honor his damn memory! But still, you refuse! It has to still be about you! Your fiancée is here, so we must all leap for joy with you. If Arthur was going to die young, he should have at least been given a better brother than you so he could have spent more of his time enjoying his life!”
I said nothing.
I could not even breathe.
It was only when she marched past me that I took air in again, lifting my eyes to keep the tears from falling. But I could feel myself losing that battle quickly. I tried to escape the openness of the hall, the view of the cameras. I kept walking until I made it to my room, slamming the door behind me and falling back against it. My throat was on fire. I tried to calm myself, but air came in short, deep gasps as I slid onto the floor. I covered my face in shame because she was right.
Arthur deserved a much better brother than me.
I was selfish, and I never did help him.
Not once.
In fact, I tried to give him more to do. The small responsibilities I had, I’d neglected, and he would cover up and do them for me.
Now, I was in his shoes, the Adelaar, barely able to keep my neck up, wondering how the hell he managed to do this.
And who the hell was I for even trying?
If I could trade my life for his, I would, for the sake of the country, the House of Monterey, and for him. I would have happily taken his place in that.
It was better than everyone knowing the wrong prince had died.
Her yells were loud enough that we had all heard them—Elspeth, Eliza, the doormen, the butlers, and me. I guess that was one of the downsides to the centuries-old palaces; voices echoed, especially when empty at night.
All of them hung their heads, all on the verge of tears. Yes, even the butlers’ eyes were glazed over. I was not sure if it was because they loved Arthur, too, or if it was because Sophia’s pain was so heavy and raw, it tore at their hearts. I had only had one conversation with Arthur. I did not know him beyond Gale’s stories and memories of him. But even my eyes ached, and I felt shame. I was not trying to trample over her grief or their mourning. I was just trying to...I don’t know, get them to like me? Be happy? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was if I felt this bad, then Gale must have been in hell. The memory of him in the airport came to mind, the sound of him wailing in my arms, begging me to tell him it was not real. But it was. And he came back to others mourning—his mother, his sister, his ill father who was searching for Gale’s brother. He was forced to take over, to manage this. How could any twenty-eight-year-old do that? No wonder he never thought to call me. Did he even have time to think?
The more I realized and came to understand what the last six months had been like for him, the more I wished I had come sooner so he wouldn’t have been alone. Rising from the bench, I turned to Elspeth, who still sat frozen in place, staring at one spot on the carpet.