45. Bonus Chapter: Simon's POV Part 4

Simon's P.O.V.- (dream Simon had after the Father's Day brunch at the palace)

I was standing in the middle of my father's old room; somewhere I hadn't ventured since he died. This was soon after I broke off my friendship with Daphne. My mood had been admittedly down and depressed since then, and nothing I did made me feel any better. For some bizarre reason, I got it into my head to come see Father's room this morning. The place felt like nothing more than a crypt now, a tomb. There was no life, no flicker of light, no hope, and no dreams. Heh, sounds like the perfect kind of room he would have liked in life. Standing there, I kept my hands buried deep inside my pockets as I stared blankly at his vacant, untouched bed. Funny that a dead man can still have such an effect on me. But then, Daphne must know what that's like…..

I heard gentle, tender footsteps approach the room from down the hall. My head turned slowly when they stopped underneath the door's threshold. There she stood, looking just the same, just as fresh as in my dream back in Edinburgh. She was even wearing the same outfit, with the same bandage on her palm resting on the doorframe. She stared right back at me, wearing a solemn, sad expression. Not wanting to mirror her dejected face, I gave an empty grin in return. Of course it was not the real Daphne standing there just now; this was all a manifestation of my mind, though it usually only happened when I was asleep or just on the verge of waking up.

Dream Daphne's lips opened ever so slightly. "You're in pain," she said matter-o-factly, in the same voice she had in my dream not so long ago. My eyes lowered a tad, my posture relaxing sadly. "Didn't we have this conversation already?" This twinge of regret filled me when she only responded with a deeply pained frown. I sighed and gently shut my eyes. "Yes…. Yes, I'm pain- so, so much pain. And it hurts all the more knowing you're suffering too. I wish there was something I could do for you….." Her bandaged hand rose up to rest on her heart; her fingers drawn in. "Then let me in, for both our sakes." Another sigh left my lips. "You know I can't do that. Look around, look at this room; he's here. He's still here; I can still feel him watching me and disapproving of everything I do. I can't give him the satisfaction he craves….. Not after he emotionally abused me for so long," our eyes met once more. Daphne's head lowered a bit. "Then I will suffer; we shall suffer together, until you can learn to love me more than you hate him."

Hearing these words again struck a chord with me- a bad chord. Another frown reappeared on my lips, though it was angrier this time. "Hate- what would you possibly know of "hate"? You've never hated anyone. You had the luxury of a father's love; he loved you more than anyone else, even your own siblings. My father's disposition toward me couldn't have been more different. You say men want to control you, and perhaps the men in your family did- to some degree- but they still loved you. You have no idea what it's like for me; to never be loved or cherished by the only parent you've ever known. How dare you tell me to let go of my hatred? Hate is the only thing I feel for that man, that corpus now. If I forgo that now, I'll have nothing left but apathy, and he's hurt me too much for me to simply be apathic toward him now. No, I want him to suffer the way I suffered; to know what it is like to be truly despised by the one person who's supposed to love you in the world. That's the least he deserves."

All the while, dream Daphne said nothing but merely continuing to stare at me. Her lips were a flat, thin, suffering line. It was honestly heart-breaking to see, and then it came to me that I'd never been so honest with anyone in my life before. That shook me, even if I did open up so freely to a manifestation of the Bridgerton heiress and not Daphne herself. Soon enough, her gorgeous mouth opened again. "No matter what you do now, going forward…. know that I can't stop- not anymore. I've fallen in love, Simon Basset. You can't rely on time to heal the wounds you will inflict; it will not mend my broken heart. Time stands still when we're apart…." My heart skipped a beat as my jaw dropped. Yes, she loves me; she really loves me….. That is something I could never forget, no matter how long I lived. My lips opened, then shut for a second, then re-opened again. "I know. I love you too, Daphne. I love you…"

"Obviously not enough," that voice was one I was not expecting. My feet spun around in a rapid turn to see a smirking Prince Friederich on the other side of the room, leaning up against the wall with his arms folded. He was someone I did not want to see, unlike Daphne. His smirk grew as our gazes met straight on. "Oh well, all the easier for me. You're not the only one who's looked Daphne's way and found her beautiful." "I think you and I are looking at her in very different ways, your "majesty". You stay away from her; she's not yours!" The tone of my voice escalated quickly. The bastard was still smirking when yet another new voice came from the opposite of the bedroom. My eyes widened to see Anthony step out of the shadows. "But she is mine for the time being. As Daphne's older brother and head of the Bidgerton household, it is up to me to look out for her." "Anthony….." My lips sputtered a little.

The noise of someone suddenly yawning caught me off guard. I looked so quick to the chair by the fireplace, it'd make your head spin. There sat a man I had not met before; or maybe I had, some years ago. He was a scruffy, rugged-looking guy with messy hair and stubble all along his chin. It took me a few seconds to remember who he was, this man. "Actually, I'm the head of the Bridgerton family there, son, and that precious little girl belongs to me." "You…..? Are you…..? Viscount Edmund Bridgerton?" My lips sputtered. He appeared to be in his late fifties and had this laid-back aura about him, though you could tell with one glance that he'd get violent if need be. That was obvious whenever he looked at Daphne and imagined any harm coming to her.

Viscount Edmund stood up, taking a few steps towards me and gazing all around the room. "What a gloomy cell- no wonder your old man felt so at home here. You wouldn't turn this creepy place into Daphne's room after you two got hitched, would you?" "I uh…. O-Of course not! I'd never make her live in here, sir," my back arched like a child suddenly defending themselves. Prince Friederich scoffed. "Well that's not going to happen anyway. He doesn't want to marry your daughter." Viscount Edmund frowned at this, glaring my way. "What? What's wrong with my baby girl? You think she's not good enough for you?" "My specific instructions were to marry Daphne off to the most eligible bachelor with the best title, Dad" Anthony immediately intervened. How he said this so casually just now also rubbed me the wrong way. Growing somewhat of a backbone, I scowled at all three men present in the room with me.

"What's wrong with all of you? Why do you insist on pushing Daphne into a marriage she clearly doesn't want to enter? All for some stupid statue boost? You do realize the weight you've put on her shoulders? Don't you care about what she wants? You're supposed to love Daphne; not sell her like a cow at auction. She's a person, with her own dreams and goals. No one "owns" her- she's not there for you to do whatever you wish. That's just sick! You hear me? She doesn't belong to any of you!"

"You're right. She belongs to me."

All our heads instantly spun around at the new and very low voice emanating through the room. There beside dream Daphne was yet another man; a very different sort of man. This guy I was sure I'd never seen before, but from the moment I saw him, I knew he wasn't someone you wanted to cross. Thin, bony build, with white hair around the rim of his head but not on top. His face was slender and had a long nose; he wore a long, white beard but no moustache. You could see the bones in his fingers, his hands were that thin. He reminded me of Ebenezer Scrooge if he was forty-precent more terrifying. There was something genuinely menacing about him, and I didn't like how close he was standing to Daphne right now. Not one bit.

The other men reacted with fear at his arrival as well; it was not just me who found him intimidating. I couldn't for the life of me think of who he might be, but it slowly dawned on me that there was one person Daphne- and even Anthony- never talked about. Someone who wasn't spoken of but left a clear imprint on them, each of the Bridgerton siblings; and not in a positive way. I didn't know his first name; not even my father mentioned him, or at least without the upmost due respect. I got the impression people treated him respectfully out of fear than admiration, and he seemed like the kind of man who'd be perfectly alright with that. So long as they feared and obeyed him without question, he was content. And clearly Daphne was not.

The man's toothy, scary mouth opened a crack. "If she is going to have my family name, then she'll do my bidding. I have what I need: two heirs, a son and a grandson. They are mine as well and they too, will obey me. But Daphne…. She can provide me with what I want. At first I thought a granddaughter utterly useless, but then I remembered…. I found a way to make her work. To make up for the soul-crushing disappointment that is her existence. I did not want her- I made that clear to Edmund time and time again. And yet, she is here, and so she will be of some use to me. Yes, boy; Daphne does not know of "hate", but she is well-acquainted with "fear". She is afraid of me, and she has continued to fear me even after my death, just like her father and brother. Edmund is afraid of me, Anthony is afraid of me. I hold them all in an iron grip, and there they shall stay." I let out this audible gasp when he actually put his bony hand on Daphne's shoulder. The way he held her was so dominating….. so controlling. One look at the two of them together and it suddenly made sense why Daphne viewed men the way she did. She could love men- Edmund and Anthony were proof of that- but above all else she feared them, and with good reason. My whole body squirmed viciously as he dug his fingernails into her skin- his eyes not breaking from mine as he did so. "You may hate that dead old man more than you love my granddaughter, Duke. But ask yourself this: Do you think Daphne can ever love you more than she fears me?

You've done little to diminish that valid fear so far."