Forbidden Freedom

Chapter 19

Nowadays

England

Wearily, I turn another page of the book, accompanied by my own yawn. My head is swimming with the overload of information, and my pen slips out of my tired fingers once again.

I rub my eyes with the backs of my wrists and squeeze them shut to try and relax the muscles. It barely helps, only adds even more unpleasant sensations in the form of black floating dots obstructing my view of the text and architectural plans I'm studying.

I slap my cheeks lightly, take a sip of my now cold coffee, and wrinkle at the bitter taste. Checking my phone, I realize with horror that it's already half past ten at night. I've been stuck in the library for over half the day. My butt is numb, my brain is starting to shut down, my eyes feel like they're about to fall out, and I haven't even finished half of my term paper.

I absolutely need to finish it before the Christmas break, or I can kiss my grant goodbye. I've worked too hard to get it. I spent days and nights drawing while lying in a mental hospital to prepare for the entrance exam. I swallowed my pride and agreed with my dad to hire a tutor to prep me for the master's program.

"Sweetie," Selina's soft voice wraps around my eardrums, and her hand gently touches my shoulder. "Do you know there's no one else in the library?"

I want to rest my head on her hand, but I restrain myself. Ethan is always lurking, and he mustn't see any sign of affection towards her. It would be easier if Selina knew everything and pretended we were just good friends in public. But I can't do that. She would cause a scene and use her connections, leading to the worst possible outcome. At the very least, I wouldn't finish my master's, and they would probably expel me from the university. At worst, both Selina and I would be in danger because who knows what Ethan Blake is capable of.

We haven't seen each other since that night in his office. Thankfully, he only teaches once a week, and we don't run into each other in the main campus. His office is far from the lecture halls where I usually have classes.

"I know," I whisper, even though the library is empty. "But I have to finish. There's not much time left before Christmas."

Selina sits on the bulky chair next to me and takes my hand, gently stroking my fingers. Her eyes shine with sympathy.

"There's still about a month left, you can do it," she assures me, squeezing my hand. "And if you can't, I can help you."

"How? Are you going to write my paper for me?" A hysterical laugh bursts from my chest. Of all people, Selina would never write term papers, not even for royalty. She writes her own work at the last minute and half-heartedly. She has that privilege, but I don't.

"I could ask my parents to help you," she suggests, pursing her lips when she sees my immediate reaction. "They wouldn't mind. It's nothing for them."

I snap my book shut and start packing my things into my roomy Louis Vuitton Neverfull bag. This isn't the first time Selina has offered me this kind of help. It always makes me feel like I'm her poor boyfriend that she's trying to pull into high society.

"Selina," I turn to her, throwing my bag on the floor with a loud thud, raising centuries-old dust. "I don't need financial help. I worked hard for that grant, and I'm not giving up that easily."

I rise from the table and push the heavy chair back into place. Selina looks up at me, but this time without her trademark ducal sympathy. Instead, she's irritated and even a little angry.

"I just don't understand why it's so hard for you to ask your dad to pay for your education and live comfortably? He doesn't need to sell everything he has. He's a very wealthy man," she snaps, not caring about the library rules. I want to shush her like the local bookworm did a few days ago.

"Exactly. You don't understand," I lean down and grab my bag by the handles. "Because for you," I gesture around the room, "none of these matters. Because it's easier for you to do everything half-heartedly, knowing everyone are more loyal to you. But I don't want to depend on anyone, especially my father. I want to gain the knowledge to build a career. You don't care about any of this because you'll get your degree, settle into your ancestral estate, and spend money that's belonged to your family for centuries. But I don't want that."

Selina recoils as if I've slapped her hard. She looks at me as if we've never known each other. I've been harsh with her before, but I've never hurt her as deeply as I have now. And, unfortunately, I feel no remorse for doing so.

Ethan's unexpected arrival, Selina's lectures—it seems everyone is trying to shake my already fragile world lately.

"You know what?" Selina blurts out, then falls silent. Her fists clench and unclench, her jaw tight enough to grind, and her eyes blaze with anger. "Go to hell!"

She turns and storms out of the library. I'm sure she would've loved to slam the door with all her might, but it's massive and oak, twice my height.

I sigh wearily and pinch the bridge of my nose. I'll have to apologize again, feigning remorse for what I've done. I'm good at hiding insincerity, so this shouldn't be a problem.

I exit the library into a dim, empty corridor. It feels like a horror movie. Everyone has already gone to their rooms and is probably fast asleep. Every creak of the floorboards, every howl of the wind makes me jump. I should have argued with Selina in my own dorm. It would've been less eerie. Then again, I survived a whole year in a loony bin. I can handle a short walk to my room.

But just as I reach the exit to the courtyard, I'm greeted by a surprise in the form of a horned devil with a familiar voice. It's not hard to guess his name.

"Trouble in paradise?" Ethan smirks, taking a drag from that cherry cigarillo. Its aroma pulls me into nostalgia, flashing images from the past before my eyes.