I stood before the mirror, the soft rustle of silk accompanying every movement as the maid fastened the last ribbon of my gown. The light outside was growing golden, a prelude to the evening's splendor. The prince's dinner invitation had arrived sealed with his crest, accompanied by a bouquet of black lilies.
The door creaked open.
"I was wondering when you'd make an appearance," I said, not turning to look at Lisbeth.
I expected a retort, but she remained silent. Instead, she crossed the room to the ornate cabinet and opened its carved doors. The sound of clinking glass filled the room.
I turned slowly, fingers crossed behind my back. How did I forget to empty them?
Lisbeth turned around with a small tray in her hands, lined with vials—some glowing faintly, others dark as ink.
"You haven't been drinking them," she said, her voice low and accusing.
I waved for the maid to leave. "My eyes and hair haven't turned. I don't need them."
"What if you turn during dinner?" she snapped, placing the tray on the vanity with more force than necessary. "You've been acting recklessly since the accident. Do you want to go back to being mediocre and ugly?"
Is this what fueled Iris' villainy? A mother who blackmailed her against herself and her siblings… because she thought her ugly?
"Yes, I do," I yelled.
Her eyes widened. She scoffed.
"What? Now that your sister is probably dead, you no longer feel inferior or squirming?" she sneered. "Did you forget you asked for those vials?"
"I don't need them. Or your help anymore," I muttered.
Her hand twitched. "You've really changed. I could almost mistake you for Rebekah. And what is this caring facade you're putting on? Didn't you wish her dead?"
A chill swept the room. My hands were shaking now. My heart thundered in my chest. Did Iris really kill Rebekah?
"There she is," Lisbeth whispered, placing a finger beneath my chin. "My pretty little girl."
I swatted her hand away.
A smirk lit her face. "I am your mother. Everything I do is for your own good."
"What about Rebekah?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Was what you did to her good for her too?"
Her gaze hardened, but then she laughed.
"Guilty conscience? Iris, you stole her face. You ruined her confidence. You made her life hell. You broke your sister long before I did," she said, turning to leave.
At the door, she paused. "You killed her."
And then she was gone.
I stared at the reflection of the lady in the mirror. Her hair was neatly bundled, soft curls falling loose around her face. But her eyes told another story—fear, guilt and confusion.
A sharp knock rattled the door before it burst open.
"My lady," a maid stood there breathless her cheeks flushed. "The count and Lord Cedric have returned!"
My heart leaped.
Rebekah.
Without thinking, I lifted my skirt and ran the sole of my shoes thudding against the marble floor as I raced down the grand hallway. Servants blinked in surprise as I passed, their murmurs fading behind me.
She was here. She had to be.
I reached the grand staircase, barely catching the edge of the polished banister as I descended. I stopped mid step,my hands tightening on the banister.
Where was she?
Cedric looked up before quickly looking away his jaw tight, the count's stare was icy cold.
"Where's Rebekah?" I asked my voice thinner than I expected.
The count answered low and informal," I should be asking you that where is she?"
What did they find out there? And how would I know where she was? Fear crept, choking me. Hot tears were stinging my eyes. Iris really did something, didn't she?
"What are you accusing her of?" Lisbeth who appeared from wherever she appeared from countered. "What would she gain from having her twin sister kidnapped or killed?"
Cedric stepped forward his voice rough," We have a witness."
I couldn't breathe. My legs threatened to give out beneath me.
"She's not gone," I whispered. "She's not."
Rebekah lived till the end of the book. She was an extra who served as fuel for her sisters motivation. Her presence was mostly forgotten in the entirety of the book. But death? Her story was never written for this.
The count gave a single nod to the guard, he left and seconds later he dragged a man in, the witness.
Lisbeth breathed out loudly behind me. She knew him.
"Rebekah isn't the only one missing, they are five cases from Marin and Clovenshire. No traces, no signs of struggle," Cedric said.
"Told you, Iris had nothing to do with this," Lisbeth said.
The air in the room had become a bit colder and tension was thick in the air.
"Until we found this man, an acquittance of yours I suppose Iris," The count's jaw flexed as heis icy orbs stared at me.
"I ... I don't," I stammered not meaning to.
"You paid him to murder your own blood, and leaving your handkerchief with him?" He roared raising a lilac handkerchief with a crest in the middle.
"I couldn't have," I said. " This is a misunderstanding." The edited book wouldn't have changed the plot that badly. She did do some touches but she couldn't have rewritten the whole book. Elena was no writer.
"I can prove it," I finally interjected. Silence lingered after my words, all eyes turned to me.
"And how will you do that? The man confessed and brought an item that belongs to you," the count said. " Lock the man and her...." He pointed at me"have her locked in her room."