Once she was dressed, Evelyn made her way to the garden with the assistance of the maids. The fresh air invigorated her, filling her with a sense of renewed purpose. She sat down at a beautifully set table, the sun casting a warm glow over the delicate tea set. Amelia arrived shortly, carrying a tray with a steaming teapot and a selection of pastries.
Evelyn regarded Amelia coolly. "Pour the tea."
Amelia, her hands shaking slightly with suppressed anger, did as she was told. Evelyn sipped her tea thoughtfully, savoring the taste before glaring at Amelia.
"Amelia," she began, her voice calm but firm, "Come here."
"What is it?" Amelia raised her brow, standing in front of Evelyn.
Evelyn stood up, grabbed the teacup, and without hesitation, poured the hot tea over Amelia's head. Amelia screamed in pain and agony, clutching her face and crying out.
"Were you trying to burn me?" Evelyn said coldly before looking at the maids. "Take her away; she is ruining my mood." She ordered, walking off as the maids hurriedly dragged the wailing Amelia away.1
"Duke!" The butler barged into the Duke's study. The Duke raised his brow and stared at him coldly. "Have you forgotten your manners?"
"Your wife has crossed all limits!" the butler shouted.
"What do you mean?" the Duke asked, uninterested.
"She burned my daughter's face! I want justice!" the butler demanded loudly.
"That's it?" The Duke laughed. "Just use a healing potion."
"How can you be so calm about this matter?! The Duchess needs to be punished for her actions!" the butler insisted.
"Leave," the Duke said coldly, resuming his paperwork.
"If you continue to support that woman, soon no one will be loyal to you," the butler warned before storming out.1
The castle echoed with Amelia's screams of pain and anger as the doctors tended to her wounds.
"How is she doing?" the butler asked.
"The wound is deep and might leave a scar," the doctor replied.
"Tsk, useless. Leave," the butler commanded, dismissing the doctors.
"Father! I want revenge!" Amelia glared at her father.
"We shall, my dear child," he said, looking at her. "Tomorrow, mix this herb in her tea. Normal people can't detect it unless they are trained in poisons." He handed her a small pouch. "It's a slow poison that will make her miscarry and won't leave any trace in the body. As soon as she miscarries, the Duke will become vulnerable, and we will take this chance to overthrow him and claim the Sable Dukedom as ours." He smirked.
"I will do as you told me," Amelia said, clutching the pouch in her hand.
1
As the sun began to rise, Evelyn woke up with a sense of purpose. She knew she had to protect herself and her unborn child. In the silence of the early morning, she made a decision. She would confront the Duke, demand answers, and take control of her destiny. She couldn't afford to be a pawn in someone else's game any longer.
Amelia, on the other hand, prepared for her own dark mission. She steeled herself, determined to carry out her father's plan. She would see to it that Evelyn would suffer, and in doing so, secure her own place of power.
Lucian, still tormented by the events surrounding Isolde and the mysterious woman in the glass coffin, prepared to take Isolde to the capital. His mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, but he knew he had to proceed with his plans.
And far away, Isolde, confined and watched, gathered her strength. She needed to find a way to escape, to uncover the truth, and to survive the storm that was rapidly approaching.
Each step they took, each decision they made, brought them closer to a convergence of destinies, where the lines between ally and enemy, love and hate, truth and deception would blur, leading to an inevitable clash that would change their lives forever.
To be continued....