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"Excuse me?" I croaked, looking back at my friends, who all nodded solemnly, confirming what she'd said.
"We're engaged. To be married." Clara repeated, a smug smile curling her lips.
"You - You're - I have to go." I felt the tears burning my eyes, as I fled the ballroom.
What had I been thinking? That the King would wait an entire year for me to return, and we'd go on happily as though nothing had changed? He'd likely thought I would never come back, that I'd left him forever. That I didn't love him. And who could blame him? I'd never told him how I truly felt. And what was worse, with Clara being here, I would have to leave. I couldn't live in the castle if the King had a wife. The truth stung me, and I felt nauseous. I would have to leave. Again. Marie... Maybe if I'd read your letter sooner, things wouldn't have ended like this.
As I left the palace, I was met with a clear blue sky, slowly fading into purple. I took in a shaky breath, as I trudged along the city streets, and at length, found myself inside a tavern, as the sun finally dipped out of sight. If I'd learned anything at all from the men I'd fought with, it was that alcohol was your best friend in a time like this one. Cheery music played on the other end of the room, and men chatted merrily amongst themselves. I wearily surveyed the people in the bar, as the alcohol began to affect me, sending a slight buzz through my body.
I frowned, as a cloaked man entered through the tavern, his hood drawn over his head. He approached another man, similarly cloaked, causing my frown to deepen. They were undoubtedly up to something. I cautiously neared the two men, taking a seat at a nearby table, and straining my ears to hear their conversation.
"Baron." one man nodded to the other, causing him to scoff.
"Well, what's the use in wearing a cloak, if you insist on shouting my name out for all to hear?" he spat, taking off his hood to reveal that he was, in fact, Baron Collins.
"Do you have the money I am owed?" the other man, still hooded, asked.
"I have some of the money you are owed." the Baron said, tossing a bag of coins across the table, "You'll receive the rest when the deed is done."
"And for my partner?" he demanded.
"You can split what I've given you."
"This is ridiculous! We were promised ten times this amount each!" the man shouted, slamming a hand on the table.
"Lower your voice, you fool." the Baron quieted him.
"Look, we're likely the only two you'll find who are willing to do what you're asking for." his voice was now a hoarse whisper, "No one wants the King dead more than Jerome and I."
My eyes widened as he said this. What was going on between these two? Were they plotting to kill the King? And why would the Baron be in on it? He'd gotten what he wanted, his daughter was to marry the King. Then it dawned on me. He would wait for the wedding to be over, Clara would be Queen, and then he would kill the King, leaving the Collins to rule. My heart rate accelerated. I had to warn the King before it was too late.
"Fine," the Baron pulled out a handful of coins, tossing them to the other man, "Will this satisfy you?"
"It will do for now. Have you chosen when we will do it?" he asked.
"At the end of this week, after the wedding at the ball." the Baron said, "It's the perfect time for an assassin to sneak in of their own accord."
"And so, you are blameless. But if Jerome and I are caught..?" he trailed off.
"Just make sure the King is dead before that, and I shall see to it that you are freed." the Baron said, drawing his hood up once more.
"Well, it is always a pleasure doing business, Baron." the man extended his arm, shaking hands with the Baron.
At last, the Baron left the tavern, and I was left to contemplate what I would do. Of course, the easiest option would be to take out the assassins and have them confess to the King. And so, that's what I'd do. I lingered behind in the tavern until very late in the evening, when the man finally got up to leave. I waited for only a few moments before following him, so as to not draw suspicion.
I stayed in the shadows, making sure to tread lightly. He turned into an alleyway after only a few minutes, stopping to draw back his hood, and count his coins. His back was facing me as I crept forward, before knocking him down with a kick to the back of the knee. He cringed, rolling over to face me.
"Rosalie?" he asked, incredulous.
"C-Christain?" I stuttered, unsure if it really was him.
"What in the hell are you doing here?" he asked, making his way to his feet.
"I could ask the same of you." I pulled out a pocket knife, "I heard what you and the Baron were talking about."
"You did, did you?" he laughed, before revealing a brick he'd hidden behind his back.
Before I could do anything, he smashed my arm with the brick, causing the knife to fall from my grasp. I gasped at the pain, holding my arm, as he pushed me to the ground with his free hand. He then picked up my small pocket knife, holding it to my throat with a maniac look in his eyes.
"That is incredibly unfortunate for you. Now I'll be forced to kill you." Christain pressed the tip of the blade into my neck, causing me to shrink back.
"Stop!" another man shouted, racing to Christain's side, "Use your head, Christain. She's Rosalie Alcott, yeah? Well, you said yourself how much the King loved her, we can use her as leverage."
"This bitch ruined my life, Jerome. I'm going to kill her like I should have when I had the chance."
"You can kill her as soon as we've done away with the King, Christian. Think about it. If either of us were to be caught, we would have her as a way to blackmail the King into freeing us." Jerome said, earning a sigh from Christian, "Besides, I said you can't kill her. Never said you can't hurt her."
Christain laughed with his accomplice, as he pulled me to my feet, never lowering the blade. He pushed me along the secluded streets, and finally into an abandoned looking building. We descended several flights of stairs, at last reaching a musty basement. Jermome immediately broke away, searching for a moment through some cupboards, pulling out some rope. He bound my wrists and ankles, before tying me to a post in the corner of the room. As he left me to my thoughts, all I could feel was a tremendous amount of pressure, pushing down on me. The King's life was in my hands.
I admit it, my plan could have been thought out better, but that was not to say that I was going to give up. The King's life was on the line, and I was the only one who was able to stop it. No matter what happened, I would save him, as he would've done for me. I felt a sinking feeling in my chest, knowing that it was my actions that indirectly caused everything that was happening. If I had never left, the King would not be engaged to a family of psychotic killers. I cringed, as I felt my pocket knife's blade being pushed into my neck.
"Feeling a sense of deja-vu, prisoner?" Christain chuckled.
"Fuck off." I spat.
"You're as impudent as ever, I see." he traced a thin line along my throat before continuing, "This is what's going to happen, Rosalie. You're going to stay here, and make no trouble for us. Unless that is, you wish for one of your friends at the palace to die with the King. What was her name? The one at Ivywood?"
"How do you know about Ivywood?" I asked, my pulse racing at the mention of Alice.
"Does the name Sebastien sound familiar to you?"
"You bastard." I scoffed.
"If you value the lives of your friends at the palace, you won't try to escape, or warn the King. You'll stay here, until it comes time for us to kill you." Christain warned, before stalking over to Jerome.
I felt a sense of utter hopelessness as I watched them go over their maps, their voices mere whispers. How was I to warn the King if it meant that my friends would die? I wish I'd have known how my departure would impact all those dear to me. I never would have left if only I'd known. My ignorance was once again about to lead to the death of another person, maybe many people, that I loved. Why couldn't I just love someone without hurting them?
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