Spices and sweet pastries filled the air, the leftovers from the banquet, I assumed.

"Ophelia, what happened?" Mallory asked upon looking at me.

I pictured what I looked like: dishevelled hair, blood running down my right arm and back, bruised arms and face, torn dress, rose thorns and a few petals on my hair and in my skin.

I was a mess, to say the least.

"I–" My mouth opened, but she wrapped her arms around me.

I turned stiff at her touch. I hadn't been hugged since my mother had died. And my skin hadn't been touched since Hael had died.

Abruptly, I pulled away from her. "Don't worry about it. But for now, I need food and a bag." I avoided her gaze the whole time.

"But why–"

"Please, Aunty Mallory. I'm begging you." A tear slid down my face. "They'll start to search for me soon."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she nodded her head like she knew. "You sit here and wash up, I'll get them." She moved to peck a kiss to my forehead, but I leaned away from her.

I swore I saw her wince before she left.

Servants stared at me, whispering to each other. I looked like I'd just come out of a brawl. Which, I had. But the daughter of a noble fighting? That was like saying Alaric had a heart.

I trudged through the counters full of chopped vegetables and flour, aiming for the sinks. Servants and chefs whispered as I passed by. They stared, muttering, "God, she looks awful." Or they came up to me. "Are you okay?" They would ask, their voices filled with worry or concern.

Do I look okay to you?

I would politely say no.

Others blatantly stated their feelings. "A girl should've known better than to get into a brawl. That was entirely on the girl."

Of course they would blame the dumb girl and not the boys who had done it to her with no provocation.

I ignored them all, or tried to. For now, my only goal was to get to the sinks. My feet dragged on the wood floor. They felt like lead. The adrenaline had worn off, and now the pain of my wounds hit me in full force. My muscles ached, headache increasing with the whispers. But the prize of the most painful went to... My back. God, my back ached so much. Every brush of air seemed to send tiny streaks of lightning, wiring and frying my brain.

I pulled up a chair and sat in front of the sink.

My arms grasped the brass knob of the large sink, straining to turn it while sitting down. But, after a few tries, my fingers slipped up. In turn, turning the knob. Water splashed onto my blood stained hands. The cold penetrated my skin as swiftly as the thorns had, and a soft hiss left my mouth.

I leaned forward to stare at my hands. The back of my right hand was torn and bleeding, with invisible blood coating the fronts and backs of both my hands. I used those hands to kill someone.

The water turned red, dripping into the drain like blood. Be it, the water was pale and not as deep as the colour of the blood, but it still felt like it.

I sat on the stool, letting the water run through my fingers. It was a welcome distraction. The cold froze me enough that it was more difficult for my mind to wander back to Hael.

I was younger than Alaric by two years, yet I was twice the monster he ever was.

I didn't realise I was crying again until a hand tapped on my shoulder. "ALARIC, LEAVE—" I spun in my seat. Only to find Mallory standing there, with a bag in hand.

"Ophelia, what happened?" She set the bag down and took a step closer to me.

"Mallory, don't." I pushed my back against the sink, clutching the inside of it with my arms. My eyes squeezed shut, face angled as far away from her as humanly possible.

God, I must've looked so stupid.

"Honey," She took another step, and I let out a scream.

"DON'T. PLEASE DON'T COME CLOSER." Tears fell down my cheeks, tickling my jaw and then falling. I wouldn't touch another person again. I couldn't trust myself not to kill them.

It was so easy to kill Hael. All I had to do was push a knife to his heart, and then his eyes had turned glassy, body crumpling to the floor like he was just a piece of paper.

"Honey, you're not okay. Let me help." She extended her arms like she wanted me to rush into them and hug her hard enough to bruise.

My knuckles were still white as I gripped the sink, not moving an inch.

Her eyes flickered, and she took a step back. "I got your food and supplies ready," She said.

I felt guilty for letting relief flow through my body. But I still couldn't bear to let her touch me.

"Thank you." I said quietly, reaching out for the rucksack she'd packed, careful to not let my skin touch hers. The leather was worn, but felt soft as my thumbs slipped through the straps and the weight of it fell onto my back.

"I'll miss you." I avoided her eyes.

"Me too, honey. Now," She grabbed me shoulders and held me in place. My skin burned at the touch of her skin, and I screamed as she gripped my shoulders tight—so tight—that I felt myself gag against the way her fingers pressed against them. My body screamed to get away, and I might've screamed too had Mallory not spoken. "Listen to me closely, Ophelia. Run east. Go past the Bone Lakes and the River Styx. Once you reach the end of the river, make a circle on the dirt and draw a line through the circle. Shout, 'Mavla Keest' and follow them." She squeezed my shoulders once more.

What was happening?

During one of my history lessons, we learned about the two languages of our world. Vernania and Yerpensengh. Vernania was a banned language, but our teacher taught it to us either way.

He died soon after.

But why was Mallory asking me to speak Vernania? Better yet, why was she telling me all this? Was she in some sort of secret group, and was telling me where to run to?

"Mallory, what are you doing?" I managed to ask, even as the acrid taste of vomit filled my throat.

"Listen carefully, Ophelia. Remember, shout Mavla Keest once you reach the end of the Styx. Don't forget it, Ophelia." She squeezed my shoulders. Her fingers pressed gently against my skin, pushing it. I shivered against the touch. But I remembered nonetheless.

Go east, past the Bone Lake and the River Styx. Reach the end of the river and shout Mavla Keest and draw a random symbol.

"But why?" I pulled back from her. Her skin left mine, and I immediately reeled. My eyes burned as I vomited onto the wooden floors, stomach heaving the minimal food I'd eaten right back to where it'd come from.

One of her hands patted my back while the other one pulled my hair, but the touch just made me vomit harder.

"It's okay, Ophelia." She continued to press on my back. My throat stung, hands reaching up to my neck as I continued to retch onto the floor. I staggered a step forward, away from Mallory.

"I told you not to touch me." I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, bracing an arm on one of the counters to keep it from trembling too much.

I glared at her, watching as a tear slid down her face, glinting gold in the candlelight. She reached a hand out and tilted my chin up. "You sweet, sweet girl, you have no idea what's about to happen." She whispered.

"Aunty Mallory, what are you–" I wasn't interrupted by Mallory.

Metal clanked on metal, the thump of wood on stone turning louder by the minute. "They're coming." I actually started to cry then. I choked on my sobs while my hand rose to my throat again.

"Hide." She threw the chair aside, thrust the cupboard doors under the sink open, and shoved me in.

My butt slammed into the wood, sliding until my back hit the end of the cupboard. Darkness was all that was there beneath the sink, with the occasional spiderweb here and there. The cool surface of the wood bit into my ear as I tried to listen to what was going on.

But I didn't need to place myself that close to the wood. Not when I could hear everything echo through the planks.

"Have any of you seen a girl with red hair? She has blue eyes, and is said to be aged around twelve or thirteen." A raspy voice boomed, just as an object thumped against the floor. Probably a spear. I sucked in a breath, I knew that voice. It was the captain of the Royal Guard, the same person who my father had bribed to keep an eye on me and my mother whenever we snuck out of the castle.

People muttered, not knowing what to say. For one horrid second, I thought they were going to tell them. What was stopping them from telling them, their lives were at risk if they didn't.

My hands started to tremble.

Oh god.

What if they did tell them?

"What are you hiding?" The same voice asked. To whom, I couldn't tell. I heard a pair of feet shuffle right next to my hiding spot.

"Nothing." Mallory's voice sounded warped through the wood. It sounded scared.

Boots thumped against the floor, growing louder by the second. Their weight fell against the floor, striking it like a drum. All the while I tucked my hands under my thighs, bringing my legs to my chest to try to contain my raging heart.

Please no, please no, please no.

The footsteps grew thunderous, marching closer and closer.

Please no.

"I saw a girl of that description run through the servant's passage." Mallory blurted.

The footsteps stopped. My breath hitched. The whole room went silent.

Thank you, Aunty Mallory.

"And you didn't think to tell us about this information until now?" The guard asked.

"I was refreshing my memory." Mallory's voice remained even as she replied. How she wasn't scared to death right now was something I could only begin to wonder.

"Which passage?" The guard growled. I brought one of my hands up to my chest, rubbing over my lungs as my breaths turned shallow.

"The one next to the ovens on the left of the stairwell you entered in." Mallory replied with that same calm.

I love you, Aunty Mallory.

"Men, leave." He called out. At his words, a stampede of spears on wood clattered through the room, along with the occasional murmuring.

Yet after they left, the room still remained silent.

One guard remained.

Feet pounded the floor once more, and Mallory spoke a single word: "Please."

Then she started to scream. She screamed and screamed and screamed. So loudly.

I covered my ears with my hands to stop them from hurting so much, squinting my eyes shut.

"Filthy liar." The soldier snarled before he left.

I sobbed, hands still covering my ears.

Her screams had stopped.

Her heart had probably stopped.

Probably.

I wanted to get out of the cupboard, wanted to see if she was still breathing. Afterall, I hadn't actually seen her die, had I? But if she was dead, then who was to say the guard wasn't still waiting to see if I was hiding here? Her death would've meant nothing.

I could just stay here. Stay until everyone was asleep and then leave.

Yes, it'd be nice to get some rest.

Maybe someone would've healed Mallory by the time I'd woken up?

Yes, that was fine.

I shifted on the wood, curling my legs to my chest and lying down on my uninjured arm.

Hael would torment me tomorrow.

Mallory would be alive.

And so would my mother.

And I dozed off once more.