Let’s just say I never had a good upbringing. My father, the Duke of Corneth was as corrupt as he was an alcoholic, constantly ignoring the pleas of his people for his lavish and over the top parties held in his private island.

My mother was no better; she was abusive and hypocritical. She often called me a whore and yet I caught her with multiple men while father was out partying. She threatened that if i spoke a word about what I had seen she would beat me within an inch of my life.

They made a great pair.

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And they make a great pair with knives in their backs.

My mother must have put on a few pounds since I had last seen her; she took longer to haul out of the manor and into the woods. The wolves would be eating well tonight. As I made my trek back to the manor, I looked up at the night sky. Thousands of white pinpricks dotted the deep blues and purples of the night sky. I let out a sigh of relief. I had done it. I had done what I promised myself I would do since I was a little girl. but now that I had gotten a taste of what it felt like to spill blood, I wanted more.

As I sat in my study writing invitation letters to relatives, family friends, and old friends, I couldn't help but think how fun the next Island party was going to be. Too bad Father won't be attending. Or… maybe not. I don’t think he would be very happy if his precious marble tiles were stained with blood.