Later that evening, Sir James's conversation with Victoria, in the presence of Baroness Lehzen and Prime Minister Melbourne, caused the Queen and the whole Buckingham palace to believe in the rumours wholeheartedly. Victoria even ended up writing a full page about her speculations in her diary. She wrote: Never have I come across an affair as twisted as this one. Never have I questioned someone's character with such force as I find myself doing now. the odious Lady Flora and my mother's favourite have crossed all lines of derogation, they dared to test us and now I am not sure if they deserve our assistance.

The next day, the duchess met with Flora. Exhilarated, she told Flora that Sir John had been talked to and also declared him 'innocent'. She then hinted to Flora, to reconsider the truth and reveal what she might be hiding. To this, Flora felt relieved, distressed and then betrayed, all in the span of a fly's flight. She realized that unlike before, when everyone except for two people in the world blamed her; now even Ann and the duchess shall question her character. That evening, Flora had cried her dark circles to prominence, when Sir John came to her room. Arrogant as he was, he handed out a gift wrapped in a parchment paper, saying: "Bravo! You almost successfully tricked everyone into believing your dirty lies." As his vicious gaze forced Flora to accept his gift, her extended arm was clenched with a ferocious force. "Your fantasies cannot change who you are....... just a pathetic whore."

When sir John left, Flora overheard the Duchess whispering from the other side of the door. The gift must've been her idea, Sir John was too vile of a being to even consider making amends. 

Finger-like blanched patches soon turned gory. Sir James' medicines had worked amazingly, obliterating every bodily pain.

Yet, Flora experienced a strange pain. Her head felt heavy and desolate thoughts surrounded it, it was as if her brain were submerged in blood from internal bleeding.

A lady with a protrusion, spiralling down a flight of physical stairs might look concerning to some, but a fall down a mental abyss becomes invisible. That was where she was headed, a baseless crevice, full of darkness.

The next day she woke up in her own room, feeling different. She felt light headed after fathoming that she had unconsciously chosen to reject a part of the truth.

"You've come to the right place, my dear." She heard a voice in an Irish accent, which seemed to originate from behind her. "Welcome!"

"Who is this?" Flora said gasping.

"I am Siobhan. Why don't you look at me? Come peep through this window, I am right here, in the next room."

She turned around and sat at her dressing table. looking into the mirror, Flora asked "Why are you here?"

"Why am I here? You've come to me. Why don't you answer that question?" asked her reflection, which seemed so different from Flora, through her eyes.

"I am going mad."

"No, but that's surely what they are trying to do to you........ Sir John and the Duchess."

"How would you know anything? Even those who saw him that night, cannot be sure."

"I don't need to be here to witness what happens within these walls, dear." Saying this, the reflection took off the locket from around her neck and opened it. In the place where a cross made out of her mother's hair once existed, Flora could now see her worst nightmare.

The Duchess and Sir John sat across from each other on the duchess' bed, she didn't look distressed by his confession. Rather, she decided to cover up for him, laying an elaborate plan to show Flora in the light of indignity.

 It was surreal to see an apparition of the truth. "What do I do?" asked Flora.

"Here, take this. Rub it on your abdomen, it's a potion, it shall terminate your misery; it shall change the course of events." Said her gypsy shadow, handing out Sir John's gift: a lavender scented perfume.

At this point, Flora had no recollections of receiving the gift or her conversation with Sir John from the day before. The perfume held only one meaning: a murderous escape.