“Yes, Mathias.”I nodded as though I were truly honored.“I will ensure the masquerade is a masterpiece of fear.”
Father leaned forward, interest piqued.
“Tell me, Elizabeth, how is the poison coming along?”
I did not hesitate.
“Very well!It will destroy our prisoner,” I said, my voice clear, betraying not a single crack.“His suffering will be talked about for years.”
Their satisfaction was palpable.
As I turned to leave, I could feel their expectant gazes on my back, my departure a final act of obedience to their vile plans.
But once I stepped into the night, back into the cool silence of the forest, the mask cracked.
I ran.
Not in fear—but in desperation.
When I reached my alchemist’s cottage, the weight of deception no longer suffocated me—it fueled me.
In the dim candlelight, my fingers found the velvety petals of the Noctyss bloom.
Lethal.Unforgiving.
“I’m going to make the most powerful poison.”
The words slipped from my lips, not a whisper, but a promise.
I would orchestrate this masquerade.
I would be the unseen hand, guiding them toward their demise.
I closed my eyes and pictured Amir—walking free from his chains, his strength restored, his enemies crumbling around him.
And then I pictured my father.
Lord Winston.
Their lips parted, gasps of agony spilling forth as their bodies succumbed to the venom I would slip into their veins.
A masterpiece of ruin.
I exhaled, slowly, my resolve hardening into something unbreakable.
“I will be the one pulling the strings.”
ChapterNineteen
ELIZABETH
Aweek had trickled away like sand through my fingers, each grain a moment stolen from me—a moment I hadn’t spent with Amir.
The herbs I had left him—a desperate concoction of comfrey and willow bark—were nothing more than a feeble balm, a temporary salve for wounds that demanded something far darker to heal.
I knew the truth.
I had always known it.
