The Red Throne | TUQ Book Two

27 | façade

Red. All I see is red.

I had sunk my hand into the basin of warm water for hours now, and even with Lillianna and Argenta attempting to scrub off the red marks, it was to no avail.

"I don't understand," I murmured. "Why did this happen? And how?"

Lillianna shook her head in sympathy.
"I believe that there is some witchcraft at play. I do not know what spell she used, but I will search for it right now. Until then..."

The thick, garish red hue was spread all over my fingertips, slowly trailing down to my palm.

I looked like a feral animal who had carved out the heart of another creature, and judging on what I just did earlier, that hunch might not be too far off.

A soft sigh left my lips.

"Summon a seamstress to my chambers next morning. Someone that I can trust," I say to Argenta. "And Lillianna, send a letter to my father, the Prime Minister. I wish to see him."

Deep down, my heart was trembling with fear, but I managed to put on an unbothered façade. I had no idea of what to do, so now I turn to my father for assistance.

Though I do love my husband, I cannot deny that the most powerful man in the entire kingdom is not him.

Instead, it is my father, the patriarch of the supremely powerful House of Winterbourne.

The great Lord Cassian Winterbourne will know what to do, now that a situation has arisen.

He always does.

The sun had barely risen when I heard a knock on my door, and it opened to reveal father, travel-worn and half awake.

"Are you alright, Anne?" he inquired hastily, not wasting a single moment. "The letter said that something terrible had happened to you!"

Without skipping a beat, I revealed my hands to him, marred by the ugly red markings.
"My hands, Father, they have become like this! Look at them, red and dirty like a lowly murderer's! I can't go out looking like this!"

He then seized my hand, his periwinkle eyes, the same as mine, were narrowed as he inspected the marking on my hand.

"This is magic," he whispered. "Northeastern magic."

"By northeastern, do you mean..?"

My father tiredly sighed. "The Hasteburns openly condemn magic, but behind closed doors, they have a whole army of witches and shamans. They are hypocrites."

"Then I have been playing right into their hands," I chuckle sardonically. "What a fool I have been.."

"What have you done this time, Anne ?"

I smile bitterly. "Rooted out a mole," I drawled. "I might have been a bit too violent with her.."

He glanced around the room, searching for my ladies-in-waiting. Of course, the only one who was missing was Rosamund.

"You are saying that Lady Walrich is a traitor ?" he inquired, to which I nodded.

"It is her blood on my hands. If I knew this would happen, I would have finished her off there and then. Although the Marquis wouldn't like it that much.."

My father let out a soft chuckle. "I knew that he'd plant a mole within your circle. It is good that you managed to capture the mole and silenced it."

"I hope that was the case, but it isn't. The deed is already done, and I don't even know how much she had relayed to the Marquis. The matter of Lacey Rivers' death could definitely ruin me-- no, us."