Verona was getting tended to by a hoard of maids whose skin glistened under the shining sunlight.
They spoke no words and all simply worked in unison to dress her wounds scarred by the ropes. She felt pampered but at the same time conflicted; her nausea was coming to the surface which is a clear premonition that something was about to happen.
She thought that maybe this time it would amount to nothing but her perceptiveness proved itself when the bell began to ring somewhere announcing an imminent danger.
People were screaming at the courtyard and the three serpents immediately stood firm ready for whatever was to come.
"Let's go out and see" Farah suggested and everyone trooped out of the room in haste only to meet the hallways clouded in smoke.
It had no effect on the four women but the wolves were a different story. Everyone was coughing and their eyes red like someone who's been sniffing opium for years.
"What do you think it's all about?" the frazzled voice was Sophiet.
"Who knows…wolves have a reputation for starting a scene" Gal grumbled as she pushed aside people who were running for safety.
The inner courtyard was filled with hysteria as snarls and growls eluded the area. Some people were touched by the fire and their screams rented the air.
Verona stood at the railing with the women as they starred down at the pandemonium ensuing, but when the smoke cleared a bit their eyes came upon a scene that twisted their hearts.
"Oh Atalla!" Sophiet whispered as her two hands covered her mouth. A lone tear cascaded down her face as she couldn't bear to tear her eyes away from the wickedness before them.
"Is…tha..t what…I think it…is?" Gal stumbled on her words and that's when to know that it was serious. Anything that would cause the dreadful snake to stutter was indeed evil.
Verona kept looking down at the scene without once blinking, and across from her at the opposite side was Queen Ygrette who also gazed down at the same direction. Beside the strict looking woman were three other people, an older woman of the same age, a younger looking female with striking resemblance and a young man. They were all clad in regal garments proving their relation with the King.
But that wasn't the bone of contention, rather Verona was spellbound to the abomination that was at the center of the courtyard.
Seven decapitated heads of newborns barely a day old were put on long spikes and placed around the large tree. The tree whose branches were big enough to almost reach the both ends of the courtyard had been set on fire while the heads were positioned as watchmen.
A white piece of cloth was tied to two of the spikes and a foreign inscription was written on it with what looked and smelled like blood. Verona couldn't make any meaning of the words but when her gaze met that of the enraged eyes of Ygrette, she knew that the woman understood.
"onye ga anwu ga anwu; one who shall die must die" a lone voice muttered beside her. The redhead immediately turned to her side to see one of the maids who had been tending to her. For whatever reason the young girl spoke the language of the Lycans.
Verona didn't ask, neither did she probe for details. All she could wonder was how anyone would dare to do this in Razhal's abode. She felt pity for the innocent babies but her sympathy wasn't enough to stop her from getting curious about who was responsible. It was obvious this act was committed as a warning to the King, but why?
Who owns the babies, and where exactly was Razhal amidst all these?
She wanted to meet the mastermind, wanted to somehow hear their story. Because she knew that an act of this kind must have been done after one may have cut off from their conscience and humanity.
Such a thing was brazenly carried out in broad daylight while everyone was up and about, proving the assailant to be someone close who also bears unimaginable grudge against the King…but who? Who was sneaky and audacious enough to do it and why?
"Wolves are terrible" Farah spoke almost to herself but Verona heard it and couldn't agree more. Their kind were animals parading as humans; she learned that lesson few years ago.
As if he heard her thoughts, the King made his presence known. He dripped of sweat and had a robe hanging loosely on his wide shoulders. Razhal had his eyes cast on the dreadful scene and Verona could see his jaws working overtime.
He was pissed.
The tree burned but surprisingly the fire only burnt off all the green leaves and left behind the body, almost like it was deliberately done as if to strip away its strength and beauty.
No one needed to be told it was a message aimed at a particular person, and the fellow knew it was meant for him.
"This is a bad omen! We have been given a vision…a vision I tell you. The Goddess have warned us, oh yes she has. She will bring doom upon us if we fail to listen. The goddess will tear away our wolves and leaves us a mere shadow of ourselves…an omen is bad. The King must tell us what he has done"
It was the voice of a random man screaming in the sea of crowd that gathered around the so-called omen. A middle aged wolf who seem not to be a guard nor a warrior. His voice was guttural as he spoke like someone feared by death.
"Refrain from making wild accusations before you meet your end" a warrior wearing the palace sigil stepped toward the manic fellow who even got more enraged.
"All of you are fools…fools and cowards who fear a man. A wolf like yourself. We have only known strife for decades, and it's only right for us to get our senses in order. We must revolt against this hellish authority. We must reclaim our land from plundering beasts!"
As the man screamed over his own voice everyone could only look towards the King who still hadn't made a move nor spoken a word.
Farah chuckled deeply while shaking her head. "Who then are the fools, they or him who is nearing his final moments…?"
"How do you know so…? I thought the pact had assured all offenses to be put to trial, surely Razhal is reasonable enough to know that" Verona responded but even she doubted her own words.
"Yes, the man was the father to the former warden of crimson village, a key factor in uniting the displaced wolves down south. His death would only restart the cold war that has recently been mended, hence the reason he speaks with such temerity." Sophiet agreed with the Queen but Gal and Farah only looked at them and smiled.
"It's a wonder how both of you are oblivious to the ways of the man Razhal Ozell. Treaties, pacts, agreements all happen because he allows it to. He is the judge and also the chief executioner, nothing bounds him and war is only but a favorite pastime. This madman you see won't make it past the dawn of noon"
"A message has been given and it's left for us to do with it as we wish. A curse ravages the borders and like a plague it slowly moves towards us. We need to put a stop to this ball of doom headed our way…and what better way to do it than to---"
His head was sent flying even before the sentence could be completed. No one had seen it coming, of the moment the Lycan warrior made the first step towards the rambling man, of when his gigantic razor claws elongated and of when it slashed away the man's neck severing bone and muscle.
Not even the sharp eyes of the mudines had seen it. A trickle of blood sat on Verona's left cheek with warmth still in them showing the futility of life. One moment the man was bursting with vigor and the next his head had found itself flying away from him.
The courtyard stilled like a gravesite as people swallowed back their sobs. Not even the crows perched on the high walls would make their normal sounds. The action was symbolic and put an answer to the question the dead man had been asking.
"I guess that also answers your question too my Queen…?" Gal mocked and trailed back into the room.
Sophiet was in shock and her lips trembled slightly begging for reassurance, but the redhead knew not how to go about it.
Her eyes looked upon the giant who had done it and immediately recognized him as one of Omar's assailants. This one was different from the one she had seen in that secret passage. He was a killer in every ramification and, somehow she knew he had acted exactly in line with the desires of his master the King.
As her uri lined eyes trailed after the man she found herself seeking out Razhal's gaze, and like moth drawn to a flame he also was staring at her.