Punch’s Cousin, Chapter 353

“Julian, you disgust me. Even in your own dreams, you disgust me!” The Duchess of Fallbridge spat at her son. To be more accurate, the image of the Duchess roared in Julian’s mind as he battled his way through his memories.


“I?” Julian rose with the assistance of the phantom of Prince Albert. “I disgust you? How is this? By being honest? By being kind? By wishing only to live in peace and without chaos? Yes, I suppose I would disgust you, then. You—you who thrive on the suffering of others.”

“I see you’ve found your voice.” The Duchess laughed. “Pity it’s such a weak one.”

“She has a point, Your Grace.” Prince Albert whispered. “Your voice is rather weak.”

“You are a creation of my own mind, Your Majesty.” Julian growled without turning around. “And since you are, I will thank you to be just a tad more supportive.”

“You can request all you wish,” Prince Albert smiled. “However, if you truly felt yourself worthy of respect and support, you’d have it without asking. As you say, I am your own creation. Isn’t it obvious that you have no affection for yourself? If you did, wouldn’t I be more of a comfort?”

“You hate yourself, Julian. Just as I hate you.” The Duchess howled cruelly. She turned over her shoulder and looked at the specter of a young Agnes Rittenhouse. “Nanny,” the Duchess began, “I fear the bathwater might be getting chilly. Have another kettle boiled. We must make the child clean.”

The vision of young Julian—still in the tub (which had not, by the way, cooled at all), began to whimper.

“Let him be!” Julian screamed.

“I don’t understand.” The Duchess sighed. “Let him be? How? This has already happened.”

“It need not continue to happen.” Julian urged.

“You’re the one who reviews the thought over and over again. If it continues, only you are to blame.”

“She’s quite correct.” Prince Albert coughed. “The things that have past only continue if we allow them to.”

“You’re no help,” Julian grumbled.

“If it’s help you want, you’ve conjured the wrong Prince.”

“Clearly,” Julian snorted.

“I’ll help you!” Mr. Punch called out through the hole in the fabric of the fantasy that he’d managed to create.

“Mr. Punch?” Julian shouted.

“Here!” Punch called out, wiggling a finger through the hole. “I’m coming!”

“Isn’t that sweet?” The Duchess roared with laughter. “My son will be protected by his puppet. Childish things, Julian. Childish things.”

The Duchess didn’t flinch as Mr. Punch burst into the scene nor did she show the slightest reaction when he rushed toward her. Instead, she turned and grinned as Punch approached—anger in his eyes.

“Do your worst, puppet.” The Duchess winked. “You won’t beat me.”





Did you miss Chapters 1-352? If so, you can read them here.