Diamonds In The Sky [ON HOLD - Editing In Process]

Diamonds In The Sky - What Secrets Do The Blackmores Have (Chapter 39)

What Secrets Do The Blackmores Have

RoseMarie Blackmore’s P.O.V.

For hevean’s sakes, if it was possible for me to die, I would probably have died for boredom already. The walls of the fancy hotel room contrasted the sheets of the large, king-sized bed in all the wrong ways. This room was horrid, the colors all wrong. The tiny, over-expensive clock on the wall read 7:30pm. Alexandre was supposed to be back at 7pm so we could go out for dinner, but that meeting of his must've held him up.

He wouldn’t tell me what the meeting was about, which is absurd since I am the Queen so I would know eventually. I didn’t hound him into telling me about the meeting though, I wanted some time to myself - some time to just breathe.

My thoughts drifted off into oblivion. Soon I started thinking about Maxwell, my first child. Maxwell Blackmore, my beloved son. Why do bad things happen to good people? Why does disaster strike those who would rather do without?

There’s no point in me wondering why. I’ve always tortured myself with these questions, what if I could have saved my son. The past is the past, there is no way of changing it, yet, I can’t let it go. I can’t let my son go.

The prophecy said the first son of the one-hundred and sixth male in the Blackmore bloodline would become all, become a god. Alexandre was the one-hundred and sixth male, and Maxwell his first son. Why? Was the prophecy wrong? No, It couldn’t be, it was written from the Pythia herself on Greece lands.

The Pythia’s prophecies all became truth.

After Maxwell’s death, Alexandre cursed at the name of the Pythia. He yelled and screamed that this so-called prophecy was false, never to be true, that it was absurd. After all, it isn’t that hard to dismiss a prophecy, even one who has been in your family since the beginning of time, because how can you believe something that says your dead son will mate with that of another species, and he will become the best that has ever lived?

It isn’t possible.

But what if...Claude...?

It isn’t possible.

Right?


Viola’s P.O.V.

Nothing. No nightmares, not even dreams. My sleep was free, no interruptions from monsters hiding in the dark corners of my mind, just peaceful sleep.

A smile perched itself on my face as I stretched my muscles under the blankets in my bed. It was Monday now, 4 days until the ball. Four days is all I had left with Claude. Suddenly, my smile was replaced with a small frown. Only four days, I thought to myself.

I jumped out of bed, shaking myself out of those melancholy thoughts. My hair was in a messy bun, my body covered by my pajamas, as I walked down to the kitchen to get something to eat. I didn’t feel the need to be dolled up around Claude. I was comfortable with him - completely comfortable. And I loved that.

As I approached the kitchen, I eyed someone who stood at the stove with curiosity.

“Stop drooling,” Claude chuckled, his back still turned towards me.

“Oh you wish,” I rolled my eyes playfully and headed to sit down on one of the stools by the countertop across from Claude.

“Where do you think you're going?” Claude stated in a playful tone as he flashed in front of me and snaked his arms around me.

I stared into his blues eyes while the corners of my lips turned up. “I’m going to sit down, ya’know,” I stated in a “duh” tone.

“Not even a morning kiss?” Claude questioned as he pouted.