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CHAPTER NINE. BLOOD THAT'S BEEN SPILLED
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There is a killer among them.
The guests are huddled around the body, fear is coursing through their veins. They don't know who could've done this. It happened near the end of the revel, most of the guests had already left. At least that narrowed down the suspects.
The castle's doctor is hunched over the victim, she was his wife. Antonia.
Antonia sits limp against the wall, like a doll out of place. Her throat had been slashed, blood was slicked all over her neck, drenching her dress—not only that but there was a trail of blood going down the wall from where she had slid to the floor. It was a gruesome scene, really.
Before everyone came running to the scene, there had been but one person present. Rhiannon Mikaelson.
She hadn't been the one to kill her, but she had called for help, claiming to have seen the murderer.
Moments later, the people remaining from the revel had gathered here. There had been a wave of gasps going around the hall.
Antonia's closest friend — Maria — kneels in front of her, her arm swiping away at the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her entire body quavers with grief. Only a monster could've done this.
Rhiannon keeps her distance, stands a few feet away from Antonia and pretends to be still with shock. It's a scene she's played out before.
Though she lacks sympathy for the victim, Rhiannon tends to avoid the killing of innocents. But this morality does not extend to her family, absolved from being the one with the knife, she finds it rather easy to cover up her family's crimes.
