1706, Le Prince Manor, Fiorio
"Come and sit with your grandmother, ma belle," the old woman called out softly. Even though the Old Countess was approaching her seventies, she still made sure that her dresses and jewelry would rival that of any young lady.
The Old Countess's dresses were made from the finest brocade, and her neck and wrists were always bedecked with jewels. She had married into House le Prince as a young girl at the very height of their prosperity, and she knew no way of living other than the extremely lavish one she enjoyed right now.
Marguerite lit up at the sight of her grandmother, and she immediately rushed to her side, taking a seat on the blue velvet chaise.
"Grand-mère!" she beamed. "Did you know that a new music store just opened up in Kestramore City? Nathaniel and I went there and had a look yesterday, and there it was! The most beautiful pianoforte I've ever seen in my life, Grand-mère!"
The Old Countess chuckled. "Is that so, mon bijou? What did it look like?"
"Oh Grand-mère, I cannot describe its beauty with words! The cover is polished white and inlaid with crystals and mother of pearl, and the keys are made of pure marble!"
Marguerite's eyes were vibrant and full of life as she spoke, and this little fourteen-year-old girl bore no resemblance at all to the monster that she would become one day.
"If you like it so much, then we'll go and buy it for you," the Old Countess declared resolutely.
The young girl let out a gasp. "Is this true, Grand-mère?"
The Old Countess let out a laugh as she fondly stroked Marguerite's soft golden hair. "Of course, ma belle. I will buy the entire store for you if you want it!"
"Oh, Grand-mère!" Marguerite exclaimed as she snuggled against her grandmother, beaming with delight. "I'm so happy right now!"
"You are truly the apple of my eye, mon coeur. Not only are you beautiful on the outside, but you are also beautiful on the inside too! Your beauty is as soft and delicate as a daisy, and your heart is as pure as a white rose. Believe me, Marguerite, no one in this kingdom can compare to you," the Old Countess praised.
"You're exaggerating, Grand-mère," Marguerite countered sheepishly, though she was already smiling from ear to ear.
"I am not exaggerating. You truly are the most esteemed lady in this kingdom, and I do not expect you to settle for any less than a royal. Do you understand, mon coeur?"
Marguerite's smile grew wider. This is exactly why amongst all her family members, she favoured Grand-mère the most.
1711, Aethiel Palace, Kestramore City
A heart as pure as a white rose. Beauty that is as soft and delicate as a daisy.
According to the Old Countess, those are the makings of an esteemed lady. If she saw her granddaughter now, would she still utter the same words, or would she die again from shock?
Marguerite looked down at her hands, stained with sticky red blood. And as for her heart, needless to say, it is most certainly black.
The gurgling sound from Miriam's throat had stopped, she noted. From afar, she could see Miriam's eyes, a stark grey colour, still staring at her.
Her gaze was full of fear and mortification, befitting someone who had just been murdered, but it lacked the admiration and adoration that Marguerite often expected from others.
Marguerite did not like that.
She knelt down on the ground and effortlessly pulled out the knife that had been plunged into Miriam's neck. Then there was the eerie sound of the blade slicing against flesh, like what you would hear at the butcher.
"Oh, don't look at me like that," Marguerite whined. "If you hadn't forced me, then I wouldn't have to do this. You made me do this to you."
Needless to say, Miriam's corpse did not answer. It would be quite a shock if she did.
Marguerite had not planned to kill Miriam at all, oh no. But when Miriam threatened to report her to the authorities, Marguerite saw nothing but red. The next thing she knew, her knife was already embedded in Miriam's neck.
Now, the deed was done. Miriam Breckenridge lay dead on the grass, blood still flowing from the gaping wound on her throat. Another question quickly arose. What was she going to do with the corpse?
Needless to say, she couldn't just abandon Miriam out here and risk her being discovered. Marguerite contemplated digging a grave, but that would be too cumbersome. Throw her in a well? Someone will definitely find her. Chop her up and feed her to the wolves? As poetic as that may sound, there aren't any wolves in Ravaeryn.
Then, she noticed the sound of gushing water from nearby. The river! How did she not notice this before?
During the drier months, the river was nothing more than a lazy stream, but after weeks of non-stop raining, the stream had swelled up considerably, and no one could tell how deep the river was due to how murky and muddy the waters were.
Marguerite smiled. If she threw Miriam's dead body in there, no one will ever find her!
She dragged Miriam to the river edge by her foot, and that had proven to be quite a difficult feat. Sweat formed all over Marguerite's face and soaked through her clothes. When she saw a droplet of water splatter on the ground below, she thought that it was her own sweat.
But then, many more came. One, then two, then three. Marguerite gazed up at the grey sky, and in an instant, her face was pelted by raindrops.
The heavens must be on my side, Marguerite thought. Cackling with glee, she dragged Miriam with all the strength that she could, then roughly kicked her into the river, where she quickly sank and vanished. Marguerite hoped that Miriam would never see the light of day again.
She then sat down by the water, allowing the rain to drizzle down on her. It chilled her to the bone, but she liked it. The rainwater had washed away the blood that had stuck onto her skin and clothes, and now Marguerite felt clean and pure, as if she had just been reborn.
She took off Aspen's bonnet, allowing her long golden hair to unravel. Then, she lay down on the soft grass, watching the grey sky in adoration as the raindrops pelted her face.
"Oh, Grand-mère. Even now, is my heart still as pure as a white rose?"
"Mina!" Catarina called out urgently. "Mina, where have you gone?"
Moments prior, Cosmina had been frantically searching for her mother in the palace gardens. Catarina tried to aid her in the search for Miriam Breckenridge, but it was all for naught.
It was as if Miriam had vanished into thin air.
Just as it began to rain, Cosmina too vanished to god knows where, leaving Catarina alone in an unrecognisable part of the garden. At least it was not the maze, so she could probably find her way out.
All around her were lovely rose bushes, some even taller than her. There were yellow roses, pink roses, even blue roses. But as the rain came down, they were all destroyed, their lovely petals scattered down on the ground.
Catarina let out a sigh. How tragic it is for something so beautiful to have such a short life.
But if she remained here in the rain any longer, then she would become the beauty with the short life herself. Catarina let out a sneeze, and it was only then that she noticed how cold it was.
"Mina!" she called out again. "Cosmina Breckenridge!"
There was still no reply. Catarina huffed indignantly, now deciding to return to her chambers and wait for Cosmina to turn up. How could she just leave Catarina behind like that?
She trudged along the dim path, her skirt several inches deep in mud.
"I swear, when I find her, she will wish that she had never been born," Catarina mumbled under her breath as she tried to wring the sleeves of her gown, only for them to become wet again in almost an instant. "Atishoo!"
She had hoped that she would come across someone, but it seemed as if the entire place was deserted.
But then, she saw him. Several yards away from her was the figure of a man, though his face was obscured by a white umbrella.
There he was. Her saviour.
She picked up her pace and rushed towards the man, not caring how unseemly she might have looked. However, Catarina did not seem to realise how slippery the ground had become, and as she grew closer to the stranger, she discovered that she could not regain her footing.
She clenched her eyes and braced for the impact, and the next thing she knew, she was already sprawled down on the ground, while the man she had bumped into was still standing. Catarina was sure that he must be staring at her in disbelief.
The day really cannot get any worst, Catarina thought as she hid her face, too embarrassed to show her face to the world. Perhaps she should just return to her father's manor and live as a recluse from now on.
But what if she could pay this man into forgetting what had happened? Catarina immediately straightened her back and turned around, one of her hands already reaching for the purse in her pocket.
"Good sir, I did not notice you standing there," she began, still rummaging through her pocket. Oh, who are you lying to? You clearly saw him standing right there!
"Ahem, you must've sustained quite a few injuries earlier. But don't worry, I will compensate you!" Catarina added shakily while opening her purse. "How much do you want? Five gold coins? Ten? Fifteen?"
"Lady de Fontaine," the man called out.
"Yes? Do you want fifteen gold coins? I can give you fifteen..."
Catarina's voice died in her throat when she finally looked up at the man she had bumped into. Though only the lower half of his face could be seen, Catarina could already tell who it was.
"What are you doing here, Lady de Fontaine?" Julian asked as he knelt down to Catarina's level. He drew dangerously close to her, and Catarina's heart almost leapt out of her throat. His lips were so close to hers, and their faces were only mere inches from each other.
Catarina inhaled sharply, unable to comprehend the situation she had just gotten herself in. Then, she noticed that she was no longer being pelted by rainwater. She looked up, finally seeing the white umbrella that sheltered her from the rain.
"Come with me," Julian said firmly. "I will escort you back to the palace."