Death of a Prince | ✓

EP 09: BLUE BLOOD SPILLS THICKER

EPISODE 09

'blue blood spills thicker'

THE CAVENDISH MANOR was outside of London. We took our necessary preparations, getting the address from Cordelia and getting dressed in items suspiciously close to my taste but one check at the tag told me that it was more than what I usually pay for clothes.

It was a nice thick dress in a tan sort of checkers, with a collar and thick long sleeves. With black tights and heeled boots, it was me, my style, but an upgrade.

I hauled my bag and nervously fixed my curls. "Alright. Alright, Wendy. You're fine. This is fine."

Cordelia wasn't there to set us off, so we numbly went down the parked garage and left London. At the drive through a more familiar setting - expanse of green and grass, an odd cow or two passing by, I tapped my fingers on my lap. "His first message. It's been bugging me."

"Hm?"

"In accordance to our agreement - what's that about? What kind of loony agreement did you both sign up that has you meddling in deaths?"

"It was actually a little crack up," he said. "I never thought he'd take it seriously. We were drunk in a pub in Scotland, there were conversations, an overflow of beer. As most drunken conversations, we went to the lane of morality. He took out a paper and a pen and told me, 'if I am ever to die, know that I won't go down peacefully. Know that as much as possible, my death will be important. Not just to me, or to you, but the world. If I am to die, I want you to investigate it.' I told him, for that to happen he had to be murdered."

Leon swallowed, his grip on the wheel tightening. "I remember now. Just after I signed the paper - he was smiling. I don't remember if it was a joking smile or a sad one. I just remembered he was smiling."

At the silence, the expanse of the countryside before us, the oncoming storm that darkened the skies, I spoke.

"You can call him many things, but Dominic Prince keeps his promises."

Leon smiled. Even for just a small one. "That he does."

- - -

The Cavendish Manor was not at all what I expected it to be. It was bright and airy, with more cream tones to masterfully project the darker colours of the room in a cleaner atmosphere. It was all deep greens and blues, in wallpapers of lush peacock with a lining of gold. The flowers and plants abundantly present were fresh and real, and the staffs were simply dressed in black but cheery.

One look at Leon from the maid who opened the door, her eyes sparkled in recognition. "You must be that missus' brotha! She said you were comin'!" Her northern accent, plus bright presence was a total contrast of the weather and our current predicament that it was a little shocking.

"Don't harass the guests, Myrna, my apologies sir and lady," said a dutiful butler who sidestepped the maid and shooed her on with a sharp look. She gave us a lasting look even as she walked back. He wasn't much older than us, that was a shocking revelation. Maybe a good ten years - looks to be in his later twenties with blond hair and a serene face. Not so much as stoic as Leon's own manservant.

"Young master Cavendish is waiting in the sun room. Please. After me."

As he led forward, my eyes adjusting to such a well-lit manor, much more than Leon's that felt warmer in a way that it was traditional with teak wood and buttered reds. This was pale white in bones and coloured like a lush forest. The potted plants bloomed in bright oranges and pinks now again.