Chapter 3 #2
The voice took advantage of her heightened emotions, but the voice was wrong. She had to remember not to kill him too quickly. Her revenge would happen, but answers would come first.
With a deep breath to gain some control, she reared back and slammed the heel of her boot forward. The force of the doors whipping open sent a thrilling jolt up her leg.
The bedchamber was overflowing with luxuries to the point of gaudiness. In its hoarded suffocation, the lord lay upon the central canopied bed.
Lord Haworth sprang naked out of his bed, his limp dick dangling as he reached for his pants. When Calypso spotted the young maid who’d been underneath him, she almost forgot her earlier goal.
“What is the meaning of this?!” Lord Haworth shouted as he sloppily buttoned his pants. “Where is my guard?”
He marched toward them, indignation marking his ruddy face.
The idea of his alcohol-laced breath near her made Calypso’s skin crawl, and she kicked his soft middle before he could get any closer.
The force sent him crashing into the bedside table, and the maidservant’s screams pierced through the room.
“Your guards will not disturb us this evening.” Calypso smirked at how he gaped at her while holding his belly.
Behind her, Nyx ushered the maidservant out of the room, leaving them alone with the lord.
Despite his intake of alcohol this evening, he recovered his senses quickly and scrambled to stand.
Lord Howarth kept his eyes on Calypso as he stepped backward toward his fireplace.
The kick must not have made her message clear because when his back hit the fireplace, he turned and drew out a sword that was mounted on the wall.
He pointed it toward her and charged forward like a bull. Calypso laughed as flames encircled her arms. Whips of fire struck out, wrapping around the lord’s feet and tripping him. He screamed as the burns set in.
Too impatient to wait until he recovered, she approached him, reached down, and grabbed him by his hair. Mercilessly, she hauled him up until he was on his knees, forcing his head back so that he looked at her.
With eyes flooded in gold, she said, “Save your screams for later. You will need your voice.”
“What do you want?! Money?” Lord Haworth sputtered when she released his hair, but kept him kneeling.
“Oh, I will take your money. But a confession would be nice too.”
“Confession?” He had the gall to look genuinely confused, as if his wealth hadn’t been gained by lies.
“I know there is a lot to choose from. But I am referring to your testimony at Seraphina Galanis’s trial.”
“I spoke only the truth about that witch. She burned the royal couple alive.”
“It seems your memory is faulty. I will help correct that.” Flames erupted from her right hand as she ran her nails against his cheek.
There was something mesmerizing about how his skin couldn’t decide whether to blister or bleed more.
Do it again.
The dark voice lulled her into leaving another mark on his other side. She felt like an artist with a living canvas.
“Calypso,” Nyx warned behind her.
Trance broken, she stepped away from the lord, pacing to clear her head. Her hand ached to hurt him again. For all his screams, it was nothing compared to what her mother went through in the dungeon.
“You are Seraphina’s bastard daughter, aren’t you? Everyone thinks you’re dead.”
There was no denying the relationship. In the past ten years, she’d grown to resemble her mother closely.
She had the same tall and broad frame with striking copper red hair.
They both carried the alchemical signs of fire, though her mother never made a show of it publicly.
That is where the similarities ended. Her mother’s heart had been gentle and hopeful, while Calypso’s had grown cold and unforgiving.
“I don’t care what everyone thinks. I want to hear only your confession.”
“What does it matter? No one will believe you,” he said. “You are just a raving mad witch.”
“For once, you actually said something truthful.” Having cleared her mind, she returned to where he was kneeling. “Joseph Collier also feigned ignorance, but by the end he was begging for death.”
“Joseph? He’s at his home in Lacra.”
“Parts of him are, yes. He was quite talkative about the gambling debts you owed.” Joseph Collier had served as treasurer for the Crown, often overlooking the illegal purchases among the nobility.
Most interestingly, he had told her of how a certain northern district lord had his debts completely cleared right after her mother’s trial.
Calypso didn’t regret killing Joseph. Nor did she regret using his blood for black magic afterward to increase her power. “Now, answer my question. What did you do in exchange for having your debts cleared by the Crown?”
He must’ve seen the truth in her eyes because his face went pale. “I was told to testify against Seraphina Galanis. To say I’d seen her enter the chambers of the royal couple and set their room ablaze.”
Hearing him confirm her suspicions calmed something in her. It wasn’t all just in her head; there truly had been a coordinated attack against her mother.
“Who asked you to do this?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head vehemently. “It was done through notes passed by a messenger.”
“The thing is, I don’t believe you.” She circled him slowly. “I think you know something more.”
“I don’t, I swear.”
“A man like you wouldn’t take such a risky deal. You would want a guarantee.”
His hesitation was all the confirmation she needed. “If I tell you, will you let me go?”
“I will set you free,” she promised.
He latched onto her words. “Like I said, I never spoke with anyone except a messenger. I was being asked to do a lot. I wanted to know I wouldn’t get betrayed. After our last exchange, I followed the messenger. I wanted to know with whom I dealt.”
“Go on. Who was it?”
“I don’t know. The messenger entered a guarded building, but never came out.”
Calypso was done with the scheming lord holding back information. She gripped him around the throat and pulled him to his feet before slamming him back into the wall.
“Who paid you off?” she repeated through gritted teeth.
When he wouldn’t speak, she squeezed his throat, letting the flames dance on her skin before allowing him to breathe once more.
“I said I don’t know!” Lord Haworth coughed as he caught his breath. “But the building was owned by Hugh Davinger.”
There it was—another piece of the conspiracy.
Hugh Davinger deserved to die for his decree against the witches of the realm.
At first, Calypso had thought it a brutal political move to appease the nobility when he grabbed power.
Throughout the years, she began to suspect he was involved in what had happened to her mother.
The evidence was never strong enough to know for certain.
Just like the information Haworth now provided, it was merely enough to raise suspicions.
“Seraphina Galanis deserved what she got.”
Calypso glanced back at Lord Haworth to see him staring at her with vitriol despite the sweat dripping down his ashen face.
“All she ever did was try to better the realm. She never hurt anyone. She was an innocent witch who burned because of your lies.” There was no sense in wasting breath trying to convince him of reality.
It didn’t matter that her mother had strived to build a connection between the magical races and humans.
In the minds of the Purists, those who held the marks of magic would always be a threat to the prosperity of the unmarked.
“The truth is your mother killed the king and queen.” He cleared his raspy voice with a deep cough. “If it wasn’t ten years ago, it would’ve been later. King Torin was too lenient and listened to her advice too often. Ridding our realm of witchcraft was the only way forward.”
He paused, and a look of pure disgust went over his features before gritting out, “Because, you abomination, there are no innocent witches.”
There was a crunch, followed by an uneven gurgle, and finally silence.
Calypso’s stare didn’t leave his face until death glazed over Thomas Haworth. Then she allowed herself to look down at her hand, which was wrist deep in his chest. With a jerk, she pulled out his dark heart.