so this is love

Augusta,

I hope it’s alright that I’m writing you. I know you’re upset with me. Everyone is rather upset with me. Rightfully so, perhaps. I don’t regret making the choices I’ve made, these past few weeks. They’re the only ones I can look back on and say, with certainty, that they belonged to me.

I do regret how much stress this has caused for other people, though. I feel terribly for Candy, who will come back to the U.K. to find that her friend has lied to her and betrayed her and is in prison now. And for Ollie, whom I’ve already spoken with. That was my housemate. He did so much for me, and I lied to him, too. And Pacifica, who really did try to help me. And Rose...

I don’t know what else there is to say about Rose. When I saw Eric die, I thought I would never know any pain like it. I was wrong. I think there is something wrong with me, there is a tendency in me to take people for granted until I lose them. I never realized how much Rose meant to me until I thought I had lost her for good. I’d always known she was one of my best friends, but there are other things now that I think I was afraid of before. I wish I hadn’t waited so long. 

She’s going to visit, though, once she is feeling better. I don’t know if I really want her to see me this way, but I miss her, so I am admittedly really looking forward to it. I think I might love her, Augusta. I really do.

Sorry for all of this melodramatic rubbish. I haven’t told anyone else any of this. I am trying not to make friends because I don’t want to make any enemies. So I just keep to myself. I think the other inmates know what I’ve done. It was all in the papers-- the whole trial. The hunting, the killings, the fires. How I pled guilty and admitted to everything. Some of them have bothered me about it, taunting me and calling me names. I’ve done a good job I think, so far, of trying to ignore this. 

There are other things I could tell you about, but I don’t really want you to worry about me. I’m getting through it. They say if I stay on good behavior, I could get out early. That’s the thought that gets me through the harder days.

I started doing yoga with some of the older men. Most of them are quiet people, too. I like to think we understand each other. I don’t know if that’s really true. I just want it to be, because it’s lonely here. I stood on my head for the first time the other day, for a whole ten minutes. It’s actually rather nice once you get used to it. I’ve never spent so much time just breathing. 

I had a hard time sleeping when I first got here. I think it’s getting better, though.

Have you heard from Mum and Dad and Jacqueline at all? I wonder what they’re doing right now. It’s almost sort of funny to me, the differences between all of our lives. I’ve done a lot of thinking about it, and I think I’m angry at them. I’ve never really admitted that to myself before. Because I loved them so much, I still do, but I think I’m angry at them and I love them and I also hate everything they represent to me. Carl (he’s the one who leads yoga) says that we have to let go of that which does not serve us, and usually he means negative emotions like guilt and regret and anger. But I think anger is serving me right now. It reminds me that I don’t have to be like them. 

I’m trying to stop being so angry with myself, though. I don’t think that is serving me. I’m starting to think it’s rather selfish, and maybe not very good for me, to think about myself this much. 

I’ve been thinking about you instead. I miss you. I hope you’re happy, and that you and Mo are still together, and that you like your new job at the bank. 

Send everyone my love. That is what I hold onto, when all feels lost. Love. All the wonderful people in my life. It’s different from what I first thought it was, did you know that, Augusta? I used to think that love was about devotion, about proving yourself. I thought that love only counted if someone else saw it. Love was like a religion to me, a rubbish one where nobody ever answers your prayers and suffering somehow makes you a good person. 

But now I understand that it’s not like that at all. It’s warmth that lives inside of you, and it reminds you that there are these people in this world, people who were in your life once (however briefly) and you can still love them, even if you never see them again. It’s not painful or tragic or heartbreaking. It’s just warmth. Does that make sense?

I’m sorry if it doesn’t. As I’ve said, I’ve spent a lot of time in my own head lately.

Maybe I’ll see you soon. If you want to come and visit. I’ve put you on my list, so you’re welcome to. But maybe we both need some time.

Be well. Take care of yourself. I love you.

Your brother,

HENRY

Henry zoned out once they left the house, feeling as though he wasn’t really there, this wasn’t really happening. It was happening to someone else, maybe, or it was another one of Ashleigh’s highly visceral nightmares. Henry Charming was supposed to be the type of man these things didn’t happen to. Not because he wouldn’t do anything wrong, but because he wouldn’t get caught.

But he had determined, himself, to change that. He would be the first to face consequences– and, hopefully, he wouldn’t be the last.

He kept to himself, not talking to anyone unless necessary. Henry knew that if the others found out what he had done, they would probably look down on him. And he also knew that, when provoked, he was bad at controlling his own temper. So it was better not to risk that.

Finally, he saw that the phone wasn’t being used, and Henry jumped at the opportunity. There were so many people to call… but one in particular did deserve an explanation. Henry punched in Ollie’s number.

OLLIE

Ollie was still sort of in shock by the time the call came in. He was looking after Vivi and Mason since he couldn’t cancel on that. But all he wanted to do was look up everything he had heard. He knew there was a bad fire in London but he didn’t understand how it was all connected.

It wasn’t hard to then assume Ollie accepted the charges and answered the call.

“What the fuck man.”

HENRY

It was a fair question. Maybe not the way Henry would have phrased it, but he understood where Ollie was coming from. What the fuck, man, indeed. Henry wasn’t sure he knew himself.

He sighed, knowing he didn’t have much time on the phone. “I’m sorry, Ollie. I didn’t mean to drag you into all of this,” he replied. He wanted to explain, but it was hard to know even where to begin. Or how much he should say. “I owe you an explanation. I imagine you’re going to see it in the papers before long, but I still owe you an explanation. Do you want the short version of it or the long version?” 

He wasn’t sure what would be harder— telling Ollie everything, or trying to find a way to condense everything while it still made sense. Henry was starting to understand it better. He’d had a lot of time to think, being in jail. But that didn’t make it any easier to explain it to Ollie. 

OLLIE

Did Ollie want the long or short version. Probably the short for times sake but it wasn’t about time. It was about knowing what had happened. Who his friend’s friend was. Who was the guy living beside him. 

And if Ollie should be helping. He wanted to help. He did.

But he had a pit in his stomach that said it was a free for all.

“Whatever you have time for. I want to hear it with your full explanation before I get another side of it.”

HENRY

Henry had to be careful with what he said. Like everything he said and did awaiting trial (and… for the foreseeable future…) this call was being monitored, and Henry was sure it could come up in court. And while he planned on telling the truth, he didn’t want to say anything now that could make things worse, for himself or anyone else.

Ollie had a good point, though. The truth would come out eventually. It was better to hear it from him. 

Henry took a deep breath. “I was raised in a secret organization called the Order of the Prince,” he started, knowing it already sounded crazy, but he had to stay calm, and hopefully Ollie would see that he was serious. “Their purpose is to… protect England from dangerous Magicks.” In the past, Henry had said that with pride, but now it left a sour taste in his mouth. 

“My whole life, up to this point, was about doing that. Training. Hunting. I never questioned it. And then something happened, a few months ago…” Henry wasn’t sure he could talk about this part. Not just for legal reasons. “And all of that changed. I joined some others in taking down the organization, and we won, but… I’ve done a lot of really bad things, Ollie. And now I’ve got to pay for them. I’m sorry I never told you this before. I thought I could be better and change and this wouldn’t catch up with me. But now I see that I don’t really have a choice. I’ve got to face the consequences.”

OLLIE

Okay, Dangerous Magicks. Sure so like things with Demons that attacked towns or anyone that hurt people? A specialized force. Now that wouldn’t be a terrible thing would it?

Hunting though put a bad taste in Ollie’s mouth as well. “Was Eric part of it. Is that what happened to him? He was trying to fix it too?” Ollie had a lot to research for it, if the police knew there had to be things on the internet by now. 

But Ollie needed to know about his friend. He needed to know what happened.

HENRY

Henry inhaled sharply. Ollie deserved to know the truth. But the truth was so complicated. Henry had no problem, at this point, admitting what he’d done. Any pain that came from that was deserved. But there were other people he wanted to protect, still. And every confession could implicate someone.

Eric was dead, but if Henry told Ollie about his Order involvement, that could taint his memory. Henry thought it was the most admirable thing about Eric, still, that he had gone against the world he was raised in simply because he realized it was wrong. But other people might not understand that. They might only see the person he used to be.

Henry couldn’t do that to Eric’s memory.

So he told a half-truth. 

“No. But he knew I was. And he tried to stop me,” Henry said with some difficulty. “I’m not telling you this because I want you in any way involved, Ollie. These are dark and dangerous people, and if you involve yourself, you will get hurt. So please, if I can ask you one thing— don’t mess around with this. Don’t go investigating. Take my word for it. I don’t want you getting hurt, too. They’re still out there, some of them, and they could come for you, too. I’m only telling you because you deserve the truth.”

Henry took a deep breath. “This is what I mean, Ollie, when I say I’ve done bad things. They came after him. And I didn’t stop them. It’s what opened my eyes. It’s my greatest regret. And now I’ve got to face the consequences, and I’ve got to make things right.”

OLLIE

Ollie took a deep breath at the thought of it, he wished Eric had let him into that side of everything. Ollie could have helped. Ollie would have helped. In anyway. Maybe he would still be alive. Maybe Ollie could have made a difference.

None of them would know now.

Mason made his way over to him wrapping his arms around his brother’s legs and Ollie messed with his hair.

“How long are they talking about you going away for?”

HENRY

Henry was surprised Ollie didn’t have more questions, but he was relieved. It was starting to give him a headache, all of this tiptoeing around to try to protect his friends. And he didn’t have much time left on this call, anyway. 

“Depends on how this trial goes. The lawyers are working some stuff out, apparently since I’m pleading guilty and giving them information about how they can track down the rest of the Order, it might be shortened. I don’t really care. Whatever they decide,” Henry said, the exhaustion creeping into his tone. “I don’t know how much I can say about it at this point, though. Hey– I don’t think there’s a lot of time left, so before I go– how are they doing? Rose and Pacifica and everyone?”

OLLIE

Ollie felt gross, just because he wasn’t asking questions didn’t mean he didn’t have anymore to ask. It was just he planned on doing his own research. He planned on searching for more information. Things you couldn’t get on a call.

Henry couldn’t give while he was on a recorded line.

Ollie had his own job to do.

“Good, I think Paz is a little confused, Rose I’m sure is going to try getting ahold of you somehow.” Ollie stated simply with a shrug. “Anything I should tell them?”

HENRY

Henry hesitated. This felt important. He didn’t have a lot of opportunities to talk to his friends right now, so he had to make them count. But he appreciated Ollie taking on the job of passing a message along.

“Just… tell them I’m sorry about all of this. And that I don’t want them to get involved in any of it, it’s messy and they’ve got their own futures to think about. But… I hope they can understand why this had to happen” Henry said finally.

The warning beep sounded, signaling Henry was almost out of time. “Ollie, I’ve got to go– but thank you. Seriously. I would understand if you wanted nothing to do with me, after all this.”

OLLIE

“I don’t know.” Ollie didn’t really. Henry had a part of Eric’s death. Somehow, someway. And that was something Ollie would have to deal with. He needed to know more. He wasn’t here to be tricked again.

“We’ll see, just try not to get killed in there or something. That defeats the purpose of owning up to your actions.”

HENRY

Henry nodded. He knew that just because Ollie was talking to him now did not mean he forgave him. In fact, he might hang up now and never speak to Henry again. But he was still grateful to have someone to call. And that Ollie said he would pass on what Henry said.

“Okay,” Henry said. “Bye, Ol–”

Living on a yacht was not all it was cracked up to be. 

Jacqueline was sunburned, seasick, and absolutely done with her family. She barely had any cell service, which was intentional, she imagined, so that they couldn’t be tracked. All of her entertainment consisted of rereading the same five historical romance novels she’d packed and fighting Granny for the portable DVD player to watch, in rotation, series four of EastEnders, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and a grainy recording of Phantom of the Opera. 

She was twenty-six years old, for Christ’s sake! She had better places to be! Part of Jacqueline wondered if she should have done what the rest of her siblings had done, staying behind in England and ratting out the family. Sure, she might have to serve some time, but at least she’d have a social life afterwards.

Plus, did she mention there was no bloody Internet out here on a boat?

When they arrived at a port, Jacqueline was the first to volunteer to run to the mainland for supplies. Maybe she could get her phone to connect for a brief moment, and for a precious few minutes, she could go on TikTok again and feel a semblance of normalcy.

Jacqueline’s phone did not, however, connect when she reached the mainland. Damn it. Her parents had cancelled the family plan, hadn’t they? She had to wander for ages (it felt like) to find an Internet cafe, which was the sort of place Jacqueline wouldn’t have been caught dead normally. Internet cafes were for tourists! Regular people! Not people who vacationed the way the Charmings did!

But desperate times called for desperate measures, she thought, paying for her thirty minutes of access and setting herself up in front of a monitor. And this was no vacation. She wasted no time typing her name into Google, though she then had to wait (what felt like) an eternity for the page to load. (It was only a few seconds).

It popped up in an article from a local Wiltshire paper:

Jacqueline Knightley, Christopher Charming, and Shannon Charming are also considered to be persons of interest in this case, as they have been identified by the Charming siblings as participants in the illicit activities of The Order of the Prince.

She didn’t read any further than that. 

Those dirty little traitors! Jacqueline thought as she scrolled to the top of the page and saw the faces of her brother and sister glaring back at her. Of course, when Augusta didn’t show up to the boat, Jacqueline had a feeling she might do this. And everyone knew that Henry was in the midst of a nervous breakdown. But it still made her feel sick-- like maybe she’d made the wrong choice here.

Had she made the wrong choice here? Jacqueline was miserable. She was sick of her parents, sick of Granny, and starting to wonder if any of this was really worth it. She’d avoided prison, but at what cost? 

There was one more thing Jacqueline really needed to know. She typed another name into Google: Paul Knightley, and slowly an image loaded on the front page...

A mugshot?!

Jacqueline had paid for more Internet time, but she didn’t care. Her chair squeaked against the floor as she smashed Ctrl-P and sent the page to the printer. “Thank you!” Jacqueline said harshly, slamming down an unknown amount of Euros and practically ripping the page from the printer before tearing off toward the harbor.

~~~~

“MUM! DAD!” Jacqueline shouted.

“Jacq, please take your shoes off before--”

She ignored her mother’s request, instead shoving the article in her face.

“LOOK AT THIS!” Jacqueline screeched. “What did I say? What did I bloody say?!”

“Jacqueline--”

“No! Don’t Jacqueline me.” The eldest Charming began pacing the boat frantically. “Paul’s been arrested! This is all your fault! If we had just let Paul come on the boat, this wouldn’t have happened, I would have had someone I actually bloody like on this boat, and my husband wouldn’t be a convicted felon!”

Shannon sighed a very long sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose like she was staving off a headache. Just then, Christopher appeared from the bow where he had been lounging. “What’s going on over here?”

“Read it!” Jacqueline flung the pages at her father, hmphing for emphasis. He examined them closely.

“...Paul’s been arrested?” he said finally, frowning.

“Yes! Paul’s been arrested, just like I fucking--”

“Language, Jacqueline!”

“Just like I fucking knew he would be, if we left him behind! My life is over! My husband’s going to be in prison forever! You can both say goodbye to grandchildren, you know!”

Shannon rolled her eyes. “As if there were going to be grandchildren anyway,” she grumbled. Jacqueline shot a sharp look at her.

Luckily, that particular conversation was interrupted by another set of footsteps emerging from the cabin. “Jacqueline, there you are. I was wondering if you had the next book in that series--”

“Granny!” Jacqueline squawked. “Why are you reading those?”

“There isn’t anything else to read, and besides, I rather like them--”

“Jacqueline, you brought books and didn’t tell me?” Shannon, who had also been battling boredom, whipped her head around.

Jacqueline felt like she was going to explode. And then she did. “Because some things are private!!”

“What is so private about a couple of books you brought? Do you not want me reading them or something?”

“Honestly, not really, mother!” Jacqueline was red in the face now.

Christopher sighed. “Jacqueline, I think you ought to eat something. You’re being rather erratic right now--”

“I’m being erratic because my bloody husband is in prison and my grandmother is stealing my only reading material which, by the way, I specifically did not want her reading!”

“Well, I really don’t think it’s fair of you to hoard those books for yourself,” Shannon hmphed. 

“Not the point!”

Christopher turned to return to where he had been lounging in the sun and Jacqueline let out a loud noise of frustration. “Not you, too!”

“Jacqueline, there are meals in the freezer--”

“I’m sick of bloody freezer meals,” she grumbled, plopping herself down on a seat and crossing her arms. 

She had done everything right. She had followed all of her parents’ advice, remained loyal to the people who were supposed to be powerful, used her head. And yet here she was, stranded in a foreign country that she couldn’t even place on a map eating a freezer meal and fighting her grandmother not only for her shows, but now her romance books, too! 

Where had she gone wrong?

She stomped down to the cabin to heat up a meal and almost slammed right into Granny.

“There was no need to be so defensive about those books. They’re quite interesting stories. I just skip past certain chapters, personally,” Granny sniffed.

Jacqueline rolled her eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, young lady.”

She couldn’t help but think of Paul. Was he having a better day than she was?

As Jacqueline settled in to dig into her pre-portioned meal, she glanced over at the pages she’d printed again. Wait a second...

Henry Charming is awaiting trial and is expected to plead guilty.

Jacqueline sighed loudly, pushing her food away. She didn’t know how she was supposed to feel about that. Henry was a traitor. He had turned on the family, abandoned everything he had been raised to believe. Jacqueline was never speaking to him again.

But he was still her brother. After all this, he was still her brother. 

“Ah, did you get to the part about the Duke’s twin?” Granny said, looking up from her crossword.