Rose slowly opened her eyes to the sweet melody of birds chirping in the palace garden, surrounded by vibrant roses that seemed to stretch on forever. The garden was a tapestry of colors, with velvety red roses, delicate pink petals, and pure white blooms swaying gently in the breeze. The air was filled with the intoxicating scent of roses, and the warm sunlight danced across her face, casting a golden glow on the lush greenery. The soft breeze rustled her hair, carrying the whispers of the past. But the serenity of the moment was short-lived.
A memory of that fateful night flashed through her mind, and Rose''s eyes widened in alarm. She instinctively clutched her shoulder, where the White Lady''s bite still throbbed with pain. "That woman," Rose hissed, her voice trembling with rage.
Her fingers brushed against the necklace the White Lady had given her. Rose''s gaze fell upon the exquisite red ruby, oval in shape, with an intricate drawing of a bird inside. The symbol seemed to mock her, fueling her desire for vengeance. Rose''s fists clenched, her nails digging deep into her palms.
"I promise, Father, I will avenge you," she whispered, her voice laced with a deep-seated anger. The words seemed to echo through the garden, a solemn vow to the father she had lost.
Just then, a soft voice called out to her. "Lady Rose!" Rose''s head jerked up, her eyes scanning the garden until they landed on a figure rushing toward her.
But as the person approached, Rose''s expression froze. "I—It''s your father," the person stammered, confusion etched on their face.
Rose''s eyes widened in shock, her mind reeling with the impossibility of it all. ''So this is the day where you let me live again,'' she thought, her voice caught in her throat. She rose to her feet, her gaze fixed on the person before her.
***
Rose sat on the ground, grief-stricken, in front of her father''s coffin. She slightly opened the casket, stealing one last glance at her father''s lifeless face. Eight years had passed since his death, yet the wounds still felt fresh.
"Why didn''t she let my consciousness transfer when you were about to go to war, Father?" Rose whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "I might have been able to convince you not to go, and you might still be here with me."
Just then, someone placed a hand on her shoulder. Rose turned to see Nicolas Wright standing beside her. "My condolences, my love," he said, his voice laced with insincerity.
Rose''s eyes flashed with anger as she slapped Nicolas''s hand away. "Don''t touch me," she warned, her voice low and menacing. She stood up, her gaze locked on Nicolas with a fierce hatred.
"It was you," she spat. "You forced him to go to war. You forced him to lead your army."
Nicolas''s expression stiffened, but he maintained a calm demeanor. "I didn''t force him. It was his decision."
Rose''s anger boiled over. "It should''ve been you!!!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the garden. "I know your deals with him. You threatened him that if he wouldn''t go to war, you''d find a new suitable woman."
Nicolas smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. "And what will you do about that, then?" he taunted, his hand flashing out to slap Rose''s cheek.
Rose stumbled, falling to the ground. Nicolas sneered at her. "You''re just a woman. Your purpose in life is just to gave me an heir, take care of the children, and represent me at banquets. You don''t have the guts to kill me, Rose. You''re just a woman, after all."
Nicolas''s words ignited a fire within Rose. For eight years, she had fantasized about killing him, about making him pay for her father''s death.
Rose''s gaze locked onto Nicolas''s sword, and a plan began to form in her mind. Nicolas noticed her gaze and smiled, pulling out his sword. "I dare you, Rose, to kill the Crown Prince."
Rose''s eyes flashed with anger as she stood up, accepting the sword. It was heavy, but she gripped it firmly, pointing it at Nicolas.
Nicolas smirked, confident in his own superiority. "You know your stance."
Rose''s eyes narrowed, her mind racing back to the days she spent training for the Rebellion. She had learned to wield a sword, to fight and kill.
With a swift motion, Rose pressed the sword against Nicolas''s throat, drawing a thin line of blood. Nicolas''s smirk faltered, and for a moment, he looked taken aback.
But Rose hesitated, her grip on the sword wavering. This wasn''t the right time.
Just as Nicolas opened his mouth to speak, the Empress appeared, her voice shrill with anger. "What are you doing?!!"
The guards, who had been hesitating in the background, finally sprang into action, seizing Rose and binding her wrists with rope.
Nicolas''s smirk returned, and he sneered at Rose. "Just what I thought."
But Rose''s gaze never wavered, her eyes burning with a murderous intensity that made Nicolas take a step back. It was the first time he had seen her look at him like that.
***
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Rose''s eyes adjusted to the dim light of the palace dungeon, a place where the Emperor''s darkest secrets lurked. The air reeked of mold, decay, and something eerily unnatural. She had heard whispers about the Emperor''s fascination with exotic collections, creatures bought from black markets, and beings experimented upon. Mythical creatures, hybrids, and anything that could be exploited for war.
"Do you think these mere beings will scare me, Nicolas?" Rose muttered to herself, surveying the cells. Each one held a different creature, some of which defied explanation.
"You''re new here," a voice said from the shadows.
Rose turned to face the speaker, but her gaze was drawn to the adjacent cell. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of a child his malnourished frame was evident, with sunken cheeks and eyes that seemed too large for his face. His skin was grimy, and his matted hair stuck to his scalp, giving off a strong stench. He wore tattered, ragged clothes that seemed to be held together by threads, and his bare feet were dirty and bruised but what distinct about him was his ocean-blue eyes, and a scar above his left eyebrow seemed to confirm his identity.
''This is definitely Matthew,'' Rose thought, her mind racing. ''But how? Matthew should''ve at least 28 years of age. Maybe it''s Matthew''s son?'' She approached the child, her heart pounding with a mix of emotions.
"What''s your name?" Rose asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
The child looked up at her with an unsettling intensity. "I—I don''t have a name," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. A sweet smile spread across his face. "I''m not alone anymore."
Rose''s heart melted at the child''s words, and she reached out to touch him. But before she could make contact, the child grasped her arm and sank his teeth into her wrist.
Rose cried out in pain and horror as the child continued to drink her blood. "L-Let me go!" she pleaded, trying to shake him off.
Just as she thought she couldn''t bear it anymore, the guards arrived, hitting the child on the head with a stick to release his grip. Rose stumbled back, her wrist throbbing in agony.
As the guards helped her out of the cell, Rose glanced back at the child. His teary, red-rimmed eyes met hers, and she saw the bloodstained lips and clothes. The child mouthed "I''m sorry" toward her, but Rose turned away, her mind reeling.
''That kid...it is definitely Matthew,'' she thought, a chill running down her spine.
***
Rose knelt before the Emperor, Empress, and Crown Prince in the grand, dimly lit throne room. The air was thick with tension, and the scent of old parchment and dust wafted through the air. The Crown Prince''s bandaged neck seemed to gleam with malevolence as he spoke.
"You deserved it," Nicolas said, his gaze flicking to the bandage on Rose''s wrist. His voice dripped with condescension, and his eyes seemed to bore into her very soul.
The Empress''s face twisted in anger, her cheeks flushing with rage. "I want to sentence her to death, Your Highness. How dare she point a sword at the Crown Prince?" Her voice echoed off the stone walls, making Rose flinch.
"Pointing a sword at the Crown Prince means treason, Your Highness," the Empress pressed, her voice rising to a shrill pitch. "She should be punished accordingly."
The Emperor''s expression remained impassive, his face a mask of calm indifference. "I understand that the Crown Princess is upset about her father''s death, but her actions are invalid. So, I denounce that you will no longer be the Crown Princess. You will return to your estate; no penalties will be given to you. However, you must leave the capital by midnight, without any assistance or carriage provided by the palace. If you hire someone or accept help, I will sentence you both to death. You are banned from returning to the capital unless I summon you."
Rose''s eyes widened in shock, her mind reeling with the implications. She felt a cold sweat trickle down her spine as she realized the gravity of her situation.
"But, Your Highness, the woods are treacherous at night," Rose protested, her voice shaking slightly. "Bandits and wild beasts roam freely. It''s not safe for me to travel alone."
The Emperor smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Then you''d best begin packing. I''m sure your father''s sword will serve you well on your journey." His voice dripped with sarcasm, and Rose felt a surge of anger at his callousness.
As Rose left the throne room, she caught the Empress and Crown Prince exchanging a sinister glance. The Empress''s eyes seemed to bore into her very soul, filled with a malevolent glee. Rose felt a shiver run down her spine as she realized the depth of their hatred for her.
***
Rose stepped out of the capital gates as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the landscape. The air was crisp and cool, ahe took a deep breath, feeling a sense of freedom wash over her.
"You''re out," a familiar voice called out.
She turned to see Nicolas standing beside a burly man, his face twisted in a cruel smile. "What do you want?" Rose asked, her tone wary.
Nicolas smiled. "I merely wanted to ensure you''d left the capital." He paused, his eyes glinting with amusement. "And to bid you farewell, of course."
Rose''s gaze locked onto Nicolas''s. "Can I ask you something?" she said, her voice laced with a mix of emotions.
"Proceed," Nicolas replied, his expression curious.
"Since we were children, we were promised to each other. We shared moments together...have you ever loved—or even liked—me?" Rose asked, her eyes searching for any hint of sincerity.
Nicolas''s smirk returned. "I enjoyed your company, especially in bed," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "But as time passed, I realized I''m the Crown Prince. I can have any woman I desire. I shouldn''t settle for less."
He turned to leave, but not before casting Rose a dismissive glance. "Good luck. We won''t see each other again."
Rose''s gaze drifted toward the path, where a stately carriage adorned with the familiar Thorn Rose sigil came into view. The carriage''s black lacquer glistened in the sunlight, and its wheels creaked softly as it rolled along the winding path. Behind the carriage, a somber wagon borne by four majestic black horses followed, carrying a polished wooden coffin draped in black velvet.
Inside the coffin, her father, the man she loved and admired, lay still and silent, his lifeless body a stark reminder of the tragedy that had befallen their family. Rose''s heart ached with grief as she gazed upon the coffin, her mind flooded with memories of her father''s warm smile, his guiding wisdom, and his unwavering love.
As the procession passed by, Rose felt a cold breeze caress her cheek, carrying the sweet scent of the roses and the faint hint of wood polish from the coffin. She closed her eyes, a sense of resignation washing over her.
"Let''s go home, Father," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft creaking of the wagon''s wheels.
As Rose stood there, lost in her grief, a figure emerged from the shadows, shattering the serenity of the moment. The malnourished child from the dungeon stood behind a tree, his ocean-blue eyes fixed intently on Rose. His gaze was unnervingly intense, as if he could see right through her.
''I didn''t expect her to taste so sweet and warm,'' the child thought, his fangs bared as he licked his lips. A blush spread across his cheeks, and his eyes gleamed with an unnatural hunger. He seemed to be savoring the memory of Rose''s blood, his mind consumed by the desire to taste her again. His presence seeping into her consciousness like a chill on a winter''s night.