Chapter 8

"Vincent Lucius Moore! Where were you last night?" Camille demanded the next morning.

Vincent flinched at her tone. He had arrived late the next morning and was still in his suit.

"U-uh, the queen had called me, and so I had to leave…?" he sputtered.

"Do you know the state you're in?", she yelled.

He did. The bandage has mostly fallen off and was torn, he was covered in cuts and scratches, was bleeding a little, his eyepatch was lost and his suit was torn in many places.

"But it was on the queen's orders…", he said in a small voice.

Camille sighed. "Did you at least present yourself well to the queen?"

Vincent nodded.

"Like an adult?"

Another nod.

"Then I assume it is -", she began again as Vincent started to walk backward to his room.

"-BUT."

Vincent groaned. There's always a 'but'.

"You are meant to stay in bed for a week and then you go for the ball with lady Margaret and lord Edward."

She then grabbed the earl's shoulders and steered him to the bathroom.

A week went by very slowly and the maximum Camille allowed Vincent to do was read.

"Why does Camille always do this?" Vincent muttered irritant to himself as he tried to sign the forms for the building of a dam for the stream nearby, while still sitting on his bed.

Just then Camille entered and sat on a chair next to the bed. "Are you tired of this, master?"

Vincent gave her a blank look. He was trying to sign papers by taking support of a book instead of sitting at his desk ten inches away from his bed.

"No Camille, I'm perfectly fine," he replied sarcastically.

Camille raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"S-sorry Camille. I'm just tired of this," Vincent said hurriedly. The whole household was run by Camille, even Robert avoids crossing paths with her.

"Just one more day, master," she said rising. "Then the lady Margaret and lord Edward will arrive. Your clothes have been prepared."

"Thank you, Camille," Vincent sighed.

Why does she act like she's my mother, he wondered, as she left. I mean, I can take care of myself, he thought stubbornly.

He reached over to his desk and picked up one of his drawings. Tears fell over the faces that smiled back at him, drawn by his own hand.

"I miss you"