Beatrice was surprised by how easily it was to be pulled into Roman's path. It was like naturally falling into step next to him.
He resembled a whirlpool, sucking people in and trapping them.
For one of the first time, Beatrice felt as close to happiness as she could get. She felt like her life meant something for once. Something other than a scapegoat or a doll. She felt in control.
"You seem distracted lately."
Ephraim had recently returned to the monastery. She glanced up from her teacup. Beatrice knew he knew that she was looking into his assets, but he hadn't mentioned a word to her. She wondered if he had told the archbishop.
Ephraim didn't seem like the loyal dog type, but Beatrice had never been a great judge of character. She had trusted the wrong people time and time again. Beatrice lowered her teacup, it landed against it's saucer louder than she had intended.
She put on her most pleasant smile. Ephraim had been avoiding her since the moment he returned. He hadn't slept in her bedroom since the last horrible night when she finally obeyed Karin's demands.
But here he is, saying that she was distracted.
Beatrice knew that he was trying to figure out what exactly she was doing. She grinned. He would never be able to guess what she had planned.
"Isn't it about time you give me my budget?" Beatrice decided to change the subject.
"Budget? What budget?"
"The budget due to me as your wife."
Ephraim laughed icily. "Did no one tell you? It goes directly to the church and the holy father."
Beatrice clenched her jaw and rolled her shoulders back. "Perhaps you are actually married to the archbishop then."
Ephraim's lips thinned into a hard line.
"You make it all so impossible, Asaemia."
Beatrice bit the inside of her mouth hard. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to tell him that Asaemia wasn't her name. She wanted to tell him that Karin was just using him. That he wasn't anymore important than herself.
But she didn't. She smiled and left the room.
Beatrice went straight for her office. She was running out of time. She needed to figure out what it was that Karin wanted from her husband.
She spent the rest of her day locked away with the records.
Her brother came when the sun was beginning to set with tea. Beatrice pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling another headache coming on. It seemed ever since she decided to be active in her own destiny she was plagued with headaches everyday. Like the gods were warning her to remember her place.
She gratefully accepted the tea her brother offered her. The heat from the cup spread into her palms and through her body.
"Tell me something," Beatrice watched her brother carefully. "Are there any uses for the Asaemia flower?"
Torin's eyebrows shot up momentarily. "Asaemia flowers? Why on earth would you ask something like that?"
Beatrice steeled her face. She didn't want to give away any emotion, even to her dear brother. If he knew what she had planned, he would try to talk her out of it. And Beatrice knew he would be able to convince her.
She shrugged her shoulders lightly, lowering her eyes to her hands. "I was just thinking lately."
"It's poison. It can kill someone in only a few seconds."
Beatrice considered this, drumming her fingertips on her lips. "What would someone want with a large quantity?"
"How big are we talking?"
"At least three farms."
Torin pursed his lips, leaning back in his seat. "I guess you could weaponize it."
Ah.. It was like the sun breaking through the sky at dawn. Pieces in Beatrice's mind began to move. The chess game was reset.
"Weaponize how?"
"Poison arrows, poison swords.." He hesitated. Beatrice leaned forward. "I've heard they even found a way to poison the air."
The air. It was an interesting concept, one that Beatrice would've never thought of in a million years. How was it even possible? Could even the gods manage a feat like that?
And if someone could, how long would it be before they destroyed the entire world?
The thought scared Beatrice and fascinated her at the same time.
'You take and you take,' her gods smeared. 'When will you be happy with what you have?'
'When will you stop coveting our power?'
'When will you be satisfied?'
Beatrice wondered if there was a point when she would ever be satisfied. If she one day overthrew Karin's power, would she be happy? Or would she return to the emptiness she had been her entire life before she realized she could do something?
Sometimes, usually late at night, Beatrice would be struck with this sudden fear. It wasn't the threat of her death that scared her. She had resigned herself to death the moment the mark was carved into her face.
It was the uncertainty that scared her. The thought that once they seized the power for the people, they wouldn't even want it.
What would she do then? How would she react when everything she worked so hard for proved to be all for nothing?
Would she cry? Would she scream? Would she completely fall apart?
'You're weak,' her gods sneered.
'You should give up now.'
'You will never be able to follow through.'
'A useless child.'
She scratched her mark, her fingers catching over the scarred skin. The skin weeped at the sensation, blood burrowing its way under her nails.
Beatrice tried to push the thoughts from her mind as she hurriedly scribbled her notes. She had not noticed her brother leave. She hadn't noticed Ilya enter.
Her entire world had darkened around her. There was no sight, no smells, no sounds. There was only her, her writing, and her thoughts. The rest was just a blissful silence.