“Noooo! I have nothing to do with this at all! Please, spare me!” Bernard wailed.
“Sorry, but I’m not here to make judgments. If you maintain your innocence, then that is further reason to come with us quietly. A warning, though…” Aaron put his sword back in its sheath. “The taxpayer money embezzled to support your lifestyle is roughly equal to the total earnings obtained by the entire region. Some of that money is from peasant children being sold into slavery. From the people’s point of view, you will likely come across as an obvious coconspirator in their suffering.”
Aaron left the room, letting his troops take care of the rest. After retracing his steps, he pivoted down one of the hallways and entered the room at the end. Inside stood a group of confused troops surrounding a noblewoman.
“What’s going on here?” Aaron asked one of the men.
“Are you the commander of these troops?” the noblewoman asked.
“I am,” Aaron replied.
“I see. My name is Enola. Through an unfortunate string of events, I wound up married to that vile man, Bernard Beckford.”
“Thank you for your cooperation. I am Aaron, commander of the Kingdom’s Army.”
“Ah, so you’re the celebrated commander,” she said. “If you would, good sir, please take a look at this.” She stood up, picked several papers off of her desk, and handed them over to Aaron.
“This is…!”
“Hard evidence of our bureaucrats’ involvement in financial corruption, as well as proof of involvement in the assassination of the king and queen eleven years ago. Be sure Her Majesty receives these, would you?”
“Why would you…?” Aaron trailed off.
“It would do my heart well to know that my husband will meet a miserable end.” Her soft smile was terrifying when juxtaposed with such venomous words.
“Perhaps it is strange of me to ask, but why do you want House Beckford to fall?”
“Sorry for responding to your question with another, but why would I wish for that vile man to continue living?” Enola’s smile was sly and almost sickening. “I’ve been little more than window dressing in this house. I was never granted the status or the prestige of being the marquess’s wife. He has been slowly and silently killing me for years.”
“Ah. It must be awful to have that other woman around.”
“Oh, that Cherry girl or whatever her name is?” Enola scoffed, then burst into laughter. “Ha ha ha! Ahhh, how funny!”
Her laughter died as quickly as it came. Azure flames of hatred burned in her eyes.
“Our marriage was political,” she said. “I did not care if he had any affection for me. What I couldn’t accept was being denied the privileges that come with marriage. Did you know that he bends over backward to over-tax the peasants, yet he never allowed me to use even the tiniest bit of his money? I’ve been surviving off my dowry for ages now.”
Her words blended into one another, sounding almost melodic.
“The servants over there? They listen to Cherry, not me. To them, I may as well not exist. How pathetic a wife I must be for even the servants to ignore me at every step. My children passed away from neglect one after another, yet that woman’s children are doted on. Was that his idea? The servants’? Perhaps it came from the woman herself? Regardless, I’ve been treated as less than human in this house.”
Enola stood completely still, changing the subject in a heartbeat.
“The heir and the girls escaped, along with Karl,” she said. “You will catch them, won’t you?”
“We will,” Aaron promised her. “We have many allies working to ensure that.”
“Good. And worry not, the other children are in the next room. They’re sound asleep.”
Some of the soldiers were shocked to hear this, immediately scrambling to search the next room over. The soldiers who stayed put were a bit sickened by Enola’s toxic aura.
“Oh, I do apologize for wasting so much of your precious time,” Enola said. “I’ll see myself out.”
In a flash, she picked up a full glass she’d been staring at. The men watched her, unsure of her intentions. Aaron was the only one to move; he flew over and tried to wrest the glass from her hand. But he was too late. She gulped down the contents and collapsed to the floor.
“Lady Enola!” Aaron cried. He picked her up from the floor and turned to shout an order at his troops. “Call a medic! Now!”
“Lady Enola. Ha ha. That’s the first time anyone has called me that,” she whispered, already in a great deal of pain. “I refuse to be executed alongside that man and his mistress. Please, don’t try to save me.” She smiled gently, as though the poison wasn’t hurting her in the slightest. “It’s too late to ask for help now. Oh, don’t frown like that. I’m finally free…”
With those words, she breathed her last.
A soldier approached Aaron, his expression solemn. “Commander, the children in the other room… They’re dead, sir.”
“Is that so?” Aaron mumbled. “A truly regrettable end, but our mission is complete. Collect Enola and the children, and please be respectful about it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I will check on the team currently watching over the servants,” Aaron said.
“Wait, Commander!”
“What is it?”
“Forgive me for asking, but should we gather evidence from the servants to corroborate the lady’s testimony? As it stands, she’s destined to be remembered as the same kind of scum as her husband.”
“True. And even if she were lying, she would still end up posthumously associated with him and his crimes,” Aaron mused.
“It breaks my heart, Commander. Shouldn’t we honor her desire to be free? Lord Beckford never once acknowledged her as his wife, anyway.”
“We should. At the very least, she should be buried in the same grave as her children.”
With that statement hanging in the air, Aaron left the room.