CHAPTER 119: CHAPTER HUNDRED AND NINETEEN

The room was heavy with the scent of burnt lamp oil.

Beatrice, the Dowager Duchess, stood by the bed for a moment longer. She looked down at Ashlyn, her face etched with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. She reached out a trembling hand and patted Ashlyn’s foot through the thick quilt.

"Rest now," Beatrice whispered, her voice frail. "You have given us a great scare, but also a great blessing. Do not move."

Ashlyn nodded weakly against the pillows. Her face was pale, her hair damp with sweat. She looked small and defenseless.

Carlos stepped forward. He offered his arm to his grandmother. He looked at his wife one last time, his eyes filled with a renewed pride.

"I will walk Grandmother back to her chambers," Carlos said softly to Ashlyn. "I will return shortly. Sleep, my love."

Ashlyn forced a small smile. "Thank you, Carlos."

Carlos led Beatrice toward the heavy oak door. The old woman leaned heavily on him, her cane tapping rhythmically against the floorboards. They exited the room, their footsteps fading down the hallway.

The door clicked shut.

The silence that followed was sudden and absolute. The warmth seemed to leave the room with them.

Ashlyn let out a long breath, closing her eyes. She expected to hear the sound of Marissa leaving as well. She waited for the door to open and close again.

But it didn’t.

Instead, she heard the rustle of silk. She heard the soft tap-tap of footsteps moving across the rug.

Ashlyn opened her eyes.

Marissa was not leaving. She had walked to the large, velvet armchair near the foot of the bed—the chair Carlos had been sitting in earlier.

Marissa sat down. She did it slowly, with immense grace. She smoothed her skirts and crossed her legs, settling back as if she were prepared to stay for a long time. She rested her hands on the armrests and looked directly at Ashlyn.

Ashlyn stared back. A cold knot of unease tightened in her stomach. She pulled the covers higher, up to her chin, trying to create a barrier between them.

"Why are you still here?" Ashlyn asked. Her voice was hoarse from crying. It lacked the venom she usually had; she was too tired, too confused by the day’s events.

Marissa didn’t answer immediately. She studied Ashlyn’s face, looking for the cracks in her mask.

"Because we need to talk about the truth," Marissa said calmly.

"The truth?" Ashlyn scoffed weakly. "The truth is I almost lost my baby because of you."

Marissa shook her head. Tsk...tsk...tsk.

A small, pitying smile played on her lips.

"Ashlyn," Marissa said. "You and I both know that isn’t what happened."

Marissa leaned forward slightly. Her eyes were sharp, dissecting Ashlyn’s reactions.

"Since you are truly pregnant," Marissa stated, her voice logical and cold, "you would never have risked a fall down those stone steps just to frame me. You want that child. You want the power it brings. You wouldn’t throw yourself off a pavilion if you knew a life was inside you."

Ashlyn froze. Her eyes darted away, looking at the curtains, the lamp, anywhere but Marissa.

"So," Marissa continued, "that means you didn’t know. You thought you were empty. You thought it was safe to play the victim."

Marissa paused. She lowered her voice, making it sound dangerous.

"But you bled," she said. "You bled before you even hit the ground. I saw the stain. It started instantly."

Ashlyn’s breath hitched. She remembered the pill. The small red pill Senna had given her.

"That drug you took," Marissa said, watching Ashlyn’s pupils dilate. "It was a bleeding-inducing drug. It is not a simple prop. It is a poison."

Marissa stood up and walked to the side of the bed. She looked down at her sister.

"It is very dangerous," Marissa explained. "It causes severe contractions. It damages the womb. It forces the body to expel whatever is inside. I met with the Royal physician when you three were playing family. He told me everything about the drug and if he hadn’t given you the antidote and the stabilizing medicine... your child wouldn’t still be in that womb of yours, it won’t even this night."

Ashlyn’s hand flew to her stomach under the sheets. Horror washed over her. She had taken it willingly. She had swallowed the poison thinking it was a harmless trick.

"Who gave it to you?" Marissa asked.

The question hung in the air.

"Who used you against me?" Marissa leaned in closer, her shadow falling over Ashlyn’s face. "I am sure you know who I am talking about. You are not smart enough to find such a rare Western poison on your own."

Ashlyn’s heart pounded. Senna. It had to be Senna. Senna had given her the pill. Senna had told her it would just mimic a miscarriage. But Senna hadn’t told her it would kill a real baby and her health would be in danger. Senna hadn’t told her it was dangerous.

Did she know? Ashlyn thought. Did Senna know I was actually pregnant? No, she couldn’t have. I didn’t even know.

Ashlyn gritted her teeth. She couldn’t admit it. If she admitted she took a pill, she admitted to the plot. She admitted to trying to frame the Grand Duchess. Beatrice would kick her out.

"It was an accident," Ashlyn lied, her voice trembling. She forced herself to look at Marissa. "I fell. That is all. Stop sowing discord. Stop trying to make me doubt innocent people."

Marissa straightened up. She looked disappointed, but not surprised.

"Innocent?" Marissa repeated. "You call a woman who feeds you poison innocent?"

"I don’t understand you," Ashlyn said, feigning ignorance. "I took nothing. I just fell."

Marissa laughed. It was a dry, humorless sound.

"You are stubborn," Marissa said. "But I expected that."

Just then, the door opened quietly.

Lily slipped into the room. She moved quickly to Marissa’s side. She curtsied briefly, then leaned up to whisper in Marissa’s ear.

"Your Grace," Lily whispered. "We caught him at the back gate. He was trying to leave the estate with a bag of gold."

Marissa nodded. Her eyes lit up with a cold satisfaction.

She looked back at Ashlyn.

"You don’t believe me?" Marissa asked. "You think I am making this up to scare you?"

She turned toward the door. Her voice hardened into a command.

"Drag him in."

The door was pushed open violently. Two of the household guards marched into the room. Between them, they dragged a man.

It was Dr. Aris.

The physician Ashlyn had hired. The man who had confirmed the "miscarriage" earlier. He looked terrified. His coat was torn, his leather bag was gone, and he was sweating profusely. He wasn’t walking; his legs were dragging on the carpet as the guards hauled him forward.

Ashlyn gasped. She sat up, forgetting her pain. "Dr. Aris?"

The guards tossed him onto the floor in front of the bed. He landed on his knees, scrambling to stay upright. He kept his head bowed low, his hands shaking violently.

"He was trying to run away," Marissa said casually. "Carrying a very heavy bag of gold coins. Coins that I suspect came from your dowry, Ashlyn."

Dr. Aris looked up at Ashlyn, his eyes pleading. "My Lady... I... I tried to leave..."

"He knows what you took," Marissa said. "He knew the dangers of the pill. He knows you were pregnant and still told you to take it."

Marissa looked at Dr. Aris.

"Isn’t that right, Doctor?" she asked.

"Yes!" Dr. Aris cried out, his courage breaking instantly. "Yes! She paid me! She told me not to say a word about the pregnancy! She told me to proceed as planned! I just wanted the money!"

Ashlyn stared at him. Marissa simply stood there, looking down at the mess Ashlyn had created.

"Dr. Aris is your trusted man," Marissa said to Ashlyn. "He is the one you chose over the Royal Physician. Question him yourself."

Marissa turned away. She had done enough. Ashlyn now knew she had been used. She knew her "ally" Senna had given her a poison that nearly killed her miracle child and put her life in danger. And she knew her paid doctor was a coward.

Marissa smoothed her dress. She felt tired. It had been a long day of winning.

"Let’s go, Lily," Marissa said. "Help me prepare for bed. I am exhausted."

Lily beamed. Her face was glowing with admiration. She loved these moments. She loved seeing her mistress stand tall while her enemies crumbled in fear and confusion.

"Yes, Your Grace," Lily said, her voice bright and cheerful.

Lily cast one last, smug look at Ashlyn, who was sitting frozen on the bed, staring at the weeping doctor.

Marissa walked to the door. She didn’t look back. She left Ashlyn alone with her paid liar, her pain, and the terrifying realization that she was played.

The door closed, leaving Ashlyn in the dim light to face her own reflection in the doctor’s terrified eyes.