A Witch's Game | ✓

29 | A Gift For Spouse

Hudson sought for the simplest, unadorned clothes he had, but he couldn't find one. The only plain clothes he owned were his white shirt and khaki pants. And for once, he was appreciative for being a prince. Had he been the king, it wouldn't be so effortless to visit a commoner.

He had demanded Andrew to escort him from the back of the palace in his car so it would be less patent that a prince was out and free.

The water sprang out and glided down in the lap of the fountain, the small, leaping waves fell and fused in the water itself.

Josephine hoisted a cup of tea to her lips. "My dear son has always been the reserved kid." The Queen had suddenly wished to speak about her son's childhood and Priscilla was no one to deny. "Albeit he's scarcely impish."

The wind swirled a tree, and the leaves slackened, plummeting into the pool below. Priscilla tittered, moving her fingers across the soft skin of the gleaming strawberries on the platter. Had Marilyn ever discussed of her past with Priscilla, the situation would've been much sane than disowning her child in such a puerile manner.

She was cognizant of the fact that she was an unfortunate lady.

"Do you yearn for Mrs. Anderson?" Josephine slid a hand down the back of Priscilla's head. "I do yearn," Priscilla whispered, gazing at the lush grass tickling her bare feet as she picked a single fruit and the strawberry appeared elated only with the group. "For everything."

The two hours were completed and Josephine was finished with her son's request. "Abigail, escort Her Highness to her chamber." Josephine smiled at Priscilla, abandoning her seat. She had work, and she had to write a letter to a kingdom.

"Mom." Priscilla murmured, touching her forehead so that the sight of her glossy eyes was hidden, allowing her handmaids to do as told.

~~~

Viola hadn't gone to the palace for a few days, as Marilyn's health was worsening. The old lady had destroyed every antique in her house since Priscilla confessed her crime.

A doctor had visited them, as Marilyn had a high fever. First, he treated it mildly, causing them to call him again. He now suggested a certain tea and nice fragrance and atmosphere of the house.

She soaked a towel in warm water and wiped Marilyn's face, and Gem joined them with a tray of tea. The restaurant owner was taking care of the mother of her lover's killer. "Why did not you tell me about Terry, aunt?"

"You didn't believe Viola and her." Marilyn refrained from saying her daughter's name. "Why would you believe me?"

Gem removed the lid from the cup and blew across the steam. She hadn't apprised her that the Prince had demanded her presence at the palace. She did not wish to, as she yearned for Priscilla to suffer. Though Terry was immortal, she could've still lived a few years with him.

Viola ignored Gem, surging to her feet with the bowl and towel as she went to the kitchen. Viola had clarified that their long, false, and weak friendship had ended on that day as somewhere in her heart, a hatred had developed for Gem.

They could never be the same again.

In the chaos of events, Viola was the only true friend and relation Priscilla had, and she desired to inform her friend of her mother's health.

Is it so easy for a mother to disown her child? If so, then Viola was better with a single father.

Viola ambled out of the kitchen as she hunted for a cloth to wipe her hand when the doorbell rang. Marilyn twirled her head towards the door. She wanted Priscilla to visit her and say that everything that she advised them that day was false and it was one of her many lies.