Chapter 9

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I was sharpening my Uncle's dagger as I sat on the edge of my bed. The steel of the dagger scraped against the whetstone in my other hand. It was lunch, I should've been up there but according to Evan, I wasn't myself.

I was angry. That was why I wasn't myself. My body was consumed with rage targeted at one person -- Cian Cox.

The half-burnt letter was beside me on the deep green duvet.

I couldn't bear reading it again – I wasn't sure whether I'd weep or kill him.

They believed my mother had killed herself, thrown herself into River Thames and let the current sweep her out to the open ocean. But my mother hated the River Thames. She would not throw herself in there and she would not succumb to such a horrible fate.

She finally got out, at least. She managed to fake her death and escape my father's grasp without me. My father had only tightened his grasp on me. With her name dead, my father would remarry.

And no time was wasted choosing which one of his whores he'd wed. May Greengrass.

Invitations had already been sent out and I was to be a bridesmaid at the wedding. And my betrothal to Regulus would also be announced.

Good thing Regulus's invitation was in my grasp. He'd asked me to collect his mail that morning and when Evan and Lucius received their invitations to the ceremony, I knew that I would get my hands on Regulus's.

I was not marrying Regulus. I was not marrying anyone.

I would not be some simple housewife whose only purpose is to bear children. I was Lillian Cox. The serpent was in my blood. I would not succumb to a child bearer. I would not become Lillian Black and I would not become Regulus Black's feeble wife.

So, I sliced Regulus's invitation with my dagger before I dropped the whetstone and tucked my dagger into my skirt.

Potions was droning on as I tried to figure out how to keep the wedding hidden from Regulus. My plan was to show up alone, claim Regulus was ill then ruin everyone's fucking night. My father really thought he could just go marry someone else and expect me not to be angry.

A woman doesn't let rage consume her, he would tell me, no suitor will ever want to marry you if you are vengeful.

Good thing I had no intention of becoming someone's wife.

"Cox," Sirius snapped at me, pulling me out of my haze in a quick moment.

He stood opposite me as a large cauldron sat between us. "What?" I folded my arms over my chest,

"Focus," He hissed.

Those were the first words he'd said to me in the past fortnight. He'd been refusing to even look at me since that argument after Defence Against the Dark Arts.

I turned back to my parchment, reading aloud the ingredients while Sirius chopped them up and the rest of the class laughed and enjoyed their potions lesson. "You're extra miserable today," Black commented as he sliced the gilly weed,

"That's rich coming from you," I muttered, refusing to look up at him,

"Extra jealous today, Lillian?"

I turned to him, glaring at him furiously while he had a mockingly sympathetic face.

"You're not the only one, don't worry."

I ground my jaw, refusing to answer the self-absorbed cunt as I turned back to my papers,

"Half of Hogwarts envies me, you have nothing to be ashamed of—"

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