Chapter 8 Dreaded Memories

• Chapter eight
• Anna Forland watched Elizabeth helplessly.
• The aura of the room was tense and confusing. Her shock kept her still, not even able to console Elizabeth who was crying an ocean before her.
• How could the Viscount of Mareda die so suddenly?
• Carol Garlesh however had the blonde wrapped in her arms, consoling her slowly with pity in her eyes and voice, "It's alright my love. Stop crying."
• The lady in her arms looked up at her, her eyes sore from tears. Her voice came out as a faint whisper, "He was my father," she stated, as though nobody knew that.
• The Duchess just stood there as well. Mother and daughter seemed confused, unaware of something befitting to do. Somehow they wanted to cry too but the news was as good as unbelievable.
• Elizabeth had barged into the empire like a runaway bride, with her ankle length dress hovering above her feet, tears pouring from her eyes.
• Her Coachman followed afterwards when he noticed the lady was too broken to say a word to the Forlands.
• He had explained to Rebecca, "Lord Aflong is dead."
• That was the point Anna and her mother lost their speech, gazing from the man before them to Elizabeth who had fallen into the cook's arms.
• Without waiting for them to react, the Coachman had continued, "No injury. No sign of ill health. We however traced some venom in his coffee. I daresay the Viscount was poisoned."
• Coming back to the present, Rebecca swallowed her fear, realising the description of his death was the same as her husband's.
• Murder!
• And that was when she realized what really made her shocked. Her husband was murdered!
• ***
• The seven walked through the dense forest, pulling branches and tall grasses aside.
• "What was your reason again for using this route back to the empire?" Monica inquired from the Duke.
• Philip looked straight ahead at his path, fighting with the twigs trapping his boots. He was excited for some reason he didn't quite understand. And if he was sure, it all started after the smackdown between the lady and the Monarchs. To him, he really had to try her himself.
• Back to her question, he gave the most unexpected reply, "I am hungry."
• At his words, Monica paused in her tracks. The glare she sent to all of them betrayed the urge she had to strangle them, "Would you like to feed on the branches then?"
• The Duke chuckled softly, facing her with a sweet smile, "No my dear. I would really love to fight with you of course. But I'd rather you get us some food."
• She didn't stop glaring, an obvious sign she didn't still understand. Like how did his sentence even relate to her question?
• Sensing her confusion, Earl explained further, "Well we really crave for a fat animal's arse tied to a stick, roasting over a splendid fire. Aren't I right Earl of Vetcom?"
• He immediately sent Jason a teasing smile, one which spoke many languages of his defeat earlier.
• Still, he answered, "Right."
• When they had cleared the thick woods, the men seemed to stop walking for some reason, watching the long stretch of rolling land dance its way to the empire. A deer grazed quietly far away, a few hundred metres before the mansion. With that in sight, Jason pointed out at it, "That is your target animal. Philip…Monica," he made sure to pour out all his displeasure as he said her name. Something she found amusing.
• He continued the rules, "First to bring it back dead wins…and gets the head for dinner. Walk along."
• They continued closer to the animal, well all except the lady. She had other plans.
• "Why don't we arch at it from this distance," Monica said in a way that made the men turn to look at her.
• Just for reasons of confirmation, Timothy studied the distance from the animal again, shaking his head because it was well over a hundred feet. He faced her again with a frown that displayed she was irrational, "I bet my brother's life you won't. How absurd."
• Raymond gave his brother a glare without actually needing to say anything.
• However Monica laughed, "Well Raymond you are coming home with me tonight." She then turned to Jason, faking pleading eyes, "Can I borrow your arrows my Lord?"
• He hesitated for an annoyingly long time, debating because he was sure the arrows cost more than she did. However, he did not say it. Slowly, he pulled the case over his head and handed it to her, "Do well not to steal them afterwards."
• She frowned just slightly before she forced herself to ignore him. Yanking the bow from his hand, she looked straight ahead.
• All breathing ceased in suspense.
• And for some very dark reason, the Earl of Vetcom felt it was somehow possible for a woman like her. And then he watched her with genuine attention.
• And finally, the Duke at his right had a smile on, half sure she was going to get the deer.
• Monica closed an eye while she fixed an arrow to the bow, delaying moments after with something that looked like calculation.
• Afterwards, she shot…
• The men's eyes travelled with the weapon which formed a high parabola and launched down at the target. At some point though, they lost sight of it due to distance. But they were darn sure it had landed somewhere. The question now was… Did it prick the deer?
• Still, they watched the animal with narrow eyes. Moments after, it began to gallop uncontrollably like the grass became suddenly hot under its feet. It wasn't long after and the animal fell forcefully to the ground. The arrow had gotten its neck!
• At that realisation, Monica lowered her arms, smirking proudly with her gaze still on the fallen deer, "You're coming home with me my Prince."
• She was the only one still capable of moving her body parts. The rest looked frozen, agape. No matter how obvious it looked, they refused to digest it. But no matter how much of a show it looked, she had shot a deer a hundred feet away.
• ***
• Noises came from outside the double doors, making it evident people were close by. The footman didn't need much of a problem to guess who were coming through.
• Dutifully, he pushed the doors open, making the noise become even louder.
• Somebody less ignorant would have thought it was an angry mob. But it was the Duke and his friends, which now included Monica of course. And the argument was particularly childish.
• "I'd say it's a gazelle," Timothy rasped with the thick English accent in his voice, "Before I killed my first, my sister got her first tooth."
• "It's buffalos," Monica said in a half shriek, "It took me the first fifteen years of my life to get that one."
• The massive piece of fat animal's arse, as the Marquess had put it, was being dragged by Tiffany behind them.
• Their voices seemed to echo unusually. But they were too busy throwing words at each other to realize how quiet the whole mansion was.
• Philip admired the deer with great pleasure before he faced the lady again, "You did well in this one my love. Do well to join us for dinner."
• Monica opened her mouth in shock, doing a curtsy so suddenly she almost fell over, "With pleasure Your Grace."
• But then, they walked deeper into the Duke's home and noticed the emptiness within. The hallway branching from the ante chamber was just as void… and quiet.
• With a small, fearful gasp, Philip asked a footman at the corner, "Where is my mother? Why is it so quiet?"
• The man he spoke to hesitated for a while before he answered, "Well they are all gathered in the living room Your Grace."
• Jason came forward, realising something was wrong. And just before Philip asked, he pitched in, "What is the matter?"
• The man bowed his head in a respectful manner, however scaring the Monarchs even more, "We have just lost the Viscount of Mareda. He died earlier today."
• Philip's eyes widened in an expression of shock and worry, staring the man up and down as if he was the killer. He turned away and passed by, taking quick strides towards the hallway leading to the living room, his friends behind him.
• Monica hesitated though, with arms crossed. Her eyes narrowed into a skeptical frown just before she decided to join them. The Duke was lost, now the Viscount. She did not think that was a coincidence. Silently, she groaned, making up her mind Elizabeth was behind it.
• Rebecca turned when the doors flung open, her son barging in with a look of confusion.
• Eagerly, he searched the room until his eyes landed on Elizabeth by the corner, "Elizabeth…"
• She glanced up at him. It seemed his presence seemed to change the mood. Quickly, she ran to the Duke, looking up at him with wet eyes, "Your Grace… my father…he,"
• When she realized it was not possible to make reasonable words, Elizabeth gave up and buried her head in the curve of his shoulder.
• Out of reflex, he put his arms around her, patting her head without a single word.
• It was then that the Scottish stepped in. The sight of that did not seem to please her. To her, he was her bait and hers only. Along with many others reasons she despised Elizabeth.
• Philip finally broke out of the hug much to Monica's relief. But almost immediately, he cupped the blonde's cheeks and stared right to her prim, grey eyes, "What happened?"
• Elizabeth avoided his gaze cautiously. Slowly,she sniffed and swallowed, "I got into his chamber and found him like that. I feel… I feel he was poisoned. I mean there was a cup of tea at his side, blood seeping from his mouth."
• Philip frowned slightly before he closed her in a hug again, confusion and fear clearly on his face. His father had died just like that too and that made him darn sure it was the same person behind it. Why would someone be after them?
• Passively, he studied all the faces in the room, immediately doubting there was a slight chance it could be any of them.
• Monica huffed and turned away, fully away she could lose her mind anytime soon if she stayed, "Your Grace. I do not think this is a nice time for me to dine with you. You need your family time."
• The Duke nodded slowly with his arms still around the lady. He watched her walk away with a slight feeling of regret.
• However Monica strode angrily, a clear sign she was disgusted by Elizabeth's con.
• Somehow, it reminded her of herself. She was just as cunning, willing to play the Duke to fall for her so he could give their duchy back. And at that point came the tiniest spark of judgement from her conscience.