Gilded Vendettas • James M. Beaufort.

Chapter 5 • The Apple didn't fall far from the tree.

Have you ever come across the concept of attachment theory? It delves into the dynamics of relationships and long-term bonds, particularly between parents and children. It's quite revealing how our upbringing shapes our sense of attachment and influences our interactions with others.

As for my own past, it's not particularly noteworthy or significant compared to who I am now. Status seems to be a pervasive force in shaping our lives, whether we like it or not.

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"You've got to be kidding." It's 3 AM — I can't tell if it's another day or same day as welcome party, but Margot's voice cut through the air as she caught sight of me clutching a glass of wine and leaning against a pillar, fresh from receiving punishment from Grandpa. It felt like he had taken away my right to access the new collection, despite me being the one who designed it.

Margot was clearly annoyed by what she saw, but I was too caught up in my own world to care at the moment. I heard her take a deep breath, followed by the sensation of cold towels being placed on my head.

"You're such a lightweight, yet here you are, still wanting to drink," she muttered, her frustration evident. "You're more of an idiot than when you fought for Ruby Bell or talked with Beaufort."

She sighed and gently wiped my forehead, but I could still feel the lingering effects of the hangover.

I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the pounding in my head and the weight of everything that had transpired. Margot's presence was a comfort, even in her scolding, reminding me that I wasn't alone in this mess.

"I know, I messed up," I muttered, my voice barely audible over the throbbing in my temples. "But it just... happened."

Margot let out a sigh, her frustration evident but tinged with concern. "You've got to get it together, Vi," she said softly, her tone more gentle now. "You can't keep going down this path."

I nodded, acknowledging her words even as I struggled to find the strength to lift myself out of the haze of regret and self-pity.

"I don't even know what I did yesterday, I just felt angry," I muttered.

Margot placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, offering silent support. "It's okay, Vi," she said softly. "We all have those moments. What matters now is how you choose to move forward."

"I know you always had a bad temper, and what you did for your friends, it's quite bold and good."

"But still— it might have tarnished your reputation. Maybe we should just ignore everything."

It's not that easy, I don't want to act like a saint. I did everything just for my favor." I said. "And my favor is protect everyone I love."

Margot looked like she is done with me, but still understand me. "I would wake you up at 6:30 a.m. Now sleep a bit. And prepare to school."

Margot's words echoed in my mind as I drifted off to sleep, her unwavering support offering a glimmer of hope amidst the turmoil. Despite her frustration, she understood me in a way that few others did, and for that, I was grateful.

As I lay there, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered beneath the surface. Ignoring everything wasn't an option for me—I couldn't simply brush aside the consequences of my actions. But finding a way to move forward, to mitigate the damage and salvage what I could, that was something I could strive for.

The next hours; morning, I awoke to the soft sound of Margot gently shaking my shoulder. Groaning, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sat up, feeling the weight of the previous night's events settling heavily upon me.