A week earlier, during the tea party at the Earl’s estate, everything had gone mayhem. Noble women fanned their faces with sleek movements of their slender hands, as their servants struggled to keep up with the growing demands of the men, who eagerly complained about the ingrate peasant girl, culprit of such a treacherous act. Once the royal guards arrived, followed by a large carriage to carry the prisoner, gossip flew through the air at an unprecedented pace. All members present made their own assumptions behind the maid’s insanity - for she had to be utterly lost to threaten the life of a noble in broad daylight. But then silence ensued and all the cautious glares shifted to the one who had been accused of being the puppeteer, the one ruthless enough to murder its own blood.
“Father...? What, what’s happening...?” Amanda woke up just to see all the haughty glares of the nobles falling upon her, judging her from afar with their prideful stances. Her gaze then fell on her father’s frame, whose disgusted expression twisted as he observed something from afar, something that her senses couldn’t yet capture.
Feeling movements in his arms, Alvin’s attention rapidly shifted to his daughter, a warm smile slicing his cheeks. “My child...! We must leave at once, but you have to keep your eyes closed, alright?”
“But what happened? Why do I have to...?” Before she could finish her sentence and settling her thoughts straight, the Duke placed his hand under the girl’s torso, unwillingly raising her up with a harsh movement. She groaned, feeling her body sore and hurtful from laying on the ground for far too long.
“We shall take our leave, Earl.” Without saying anything else, Alvin walked towards the front gates, hoping to reach their carriage as rapidly as possible. Without the maid serving as the center of attention, all would befall on him and his daughter - something he couldn’t allow as it was common knowledge that certainties couldn’t be changed, yet doubts and questions could still be twisted to the will of the richest.
Suddenly Amanda’s body froze, feeling her heel had stepped on something rather squishy, causing her balance to falter. A squirting sound rung through and moments after, her head turned back. Maybe it was mere curiosity, but maybe, just maybe, fate wanted her to see the actual truth behind her father’s greed.
A squeal followed by a loud scream echoed through the garden, causing all the nobles to sneer at such unsightly behavior. Mimicking a ghost’s, Amanda’s cheeks paled and her heart aggressively pounded in her ears, like an iron hammer sinking its being into the wood with all the strength it held, all because of the thing surrounded by a pond of vivid crimson. Alvin pulled his daughter’s body from her waist, forcing her to walk instead of standing in the middle of the garden, where all the gazes befell on her, blaming her.
“What happened...?” Was the only thing Amanda could ask when they entered the carriage, feeling her insides twist, eating themselves alive. The vivid image of the tongue on the grass, of the way it felt as her heel dug into it was rooted in her mind like a sickening loop, repeating itself every second.
At that moment, Amanda’s face turned, forcing her to face the window as the horses galloped, pulling the carriage forward. Her once pale cheek turned beet red, a stinging pain piercing the nerves under her skin. With a trembling hand and a fearful glance, she cupped the pain, hiding it from the sun, shielding it from the anger of her father.
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“Everything is ruined, Amanda! God! Who knew my own child could be so useless!” His voice was loud, causing everyone to hear, from the coachmen to the servants who followed behind on a cheaper, uncomfortable ride.
“I don’t know what got into me, Father... I am sorry...” Not knowing what to say, or how to even react, the girl’s self-esteem slowly turned into an empty ball, void of any confidence. Certainly, her earlier actions were condemnable, but were they truly the instigators of such rage? He also hated Ophelia, so why was he being so drastic towards her?
“Why did you try to kill your sister!? Everyone there saw you, you foolish girl! There’s no way you won’t be punished for it...” Alvin’s fingers clenched on his knees strongly enough to pull his trousers slightly upwards.
“Punishment...? Don’t tell me I’ll...” Amanda’s eyes teared up once again, already picturing her head flying on the public square in the middle of her execution, like most common criminals. Her trembling slender fingers wrapped themselves around her neck, faintly feeling the sharpness of an invisible blade against it.
“Of course not. You are still a noble and I will do whatever is possible to lighten the consequences, but you mustn’t, under any circumstances, leave the house. Do you understand? No parties, no balls, nothing!”
Keeping a low profile for the weeks to come was certainly the best route to be taken, preventing rumors and unknown stories from shifting like the coldness of the winds during the irrational Hunting weather. Her social presence would undoubtedly take a strong hit, as she’d lack the means to defend herself, but seeing her father’s eyes without any shimmer, Amanda knew there was no other choice.
“What about Ophelia? Did I...?” Everything had happened so quickly, too rapidly for her mind to cope with. All she remembered was pointing the knife at the girl’s throat and then seeing blood, nothing else. “Was it hers?”
“Unfortunately, no. That brat fucked everything...” Alvin’s jaw clenched, his veins resolutely raising their status on the temples of his head. “She knew the tea was poisoned, so everything was a total catastrophe!”
Poisoned...!? Amanda’s eyes turned into two round almonds, completely taken aback by the words coming out of him. She knew her father was plotting something - he always did - but how could he consider such an extreme solution? How could he bring himself to actually poison his own daughter’s tea?
Yes, she had little morale to judge him as in her dreams the corpse of her sister had always been her doing, but when faced with the possibility and opportunity, her soul couldn’t bring itself to commit such an act. She was still her little sister, after all.
“Actually... everything is perfectly fine.” At that moment, a wide grin spread across the Duke’s face, understanding his concern was useless as he’d ultimately won the war. The poison inserted in the girl’s system was harvested in foreign lands, weeks by carriage or boats - it was impossible for anyone here to have the antidote. She was bound to die, meaning the only problem left was to fix his daughter’s reputation, which was a rather easy feat considering his wealth and status.
Even feeling slightly relieved from seeing her father’s mood improve, her chest clenched, anxiety roaming within. Amanda was confused, not understanding what had come to pass yet, from all the doubts roaring in her mind, the one with the strongest impact was none other than the fact that Alvin could easily discard his own flesh and blood as if it was nothing but bumps in the road. And if he could do it to Ophelia, what stopped him from doing it to her?