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As we hurried after my mother, I knew this was it. The moment of choice was upon me.

Save Ophelia, kill her, or let fate take its course.

Whatever I decided, I knew nothing would be the same after today.

We reached Lady Ophelia’s room to find chaos awaiting.

Servants rushed in and out, carrying towels and basins of water.

Nivel stood guard at the door with his face grim.

"What happened?"

My mother shook her head as her eyes were almost ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

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Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

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