Doubt

Rosé's POV

I couldn't believe she was one of them. What else could I expect from a human? They were all scum of the earth back then and even now. Why was I so gullible.

I pulled out and pointed my wand at her. It was low on energy but at least it would keep her at bay. I had already wasted it on her. She backed away immediately with her hands in front of her.

"I don't know what you are talking about," she whispered, eyes darting around. "A witch hunter?"

Goodness, she was a good actress. "And how am I supposed to believe you?" I narrowed my eyes on her. "What is it doing with you then?" I screamed. "You can't have it unless you kill a witch!"

"What?" She looked aghast as her hands started to shake. "I didn't do anything!" she wailed. She was not talking to me, she was only trying to convince herself. Now she had her hands covering her ears, her eyes closed and on her lips was a mantra.

"I didn't do anything!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"I didn't do anything!"

Wasn't she afraid of dying? Why was this act her first priority? I thought back for a brief second to the previous night. How she had reacted to me. How she had helped. It didn't make any sense how she could have allowed herself to be brutalized the way she had if she was a witch hunter. If she was she would have known how powerful what she had was. The cloak had immense power just judging by its pattern. The thunderbolts signified that the witch must have been one of high position. She could control the weather. It was one of the lost ones.

I glanced at the fabric I held and it all came back. The musty smell of the dungeon, the jingle of the shackles that held me to the wall, the hissing of acid as it corroded my skin and the purple cloaks. All hung on the wall to give me a taste of what awaited me. The monster had told me that after my death mine would join the lot. If I hadn't escaped...

By the time I was done reminiscing, Eva was still in the same trance and repeating the mantra. "I didn't do anything!"

I looked deeper into her. At least her aura would never lie. It was vibrant red with a gray melancholy at its center. But something had changed. The gloom at the center had spread. And like a plague was contaminating more and more of the red. That was bad.

I wasn't thinking straight because I was paranoid. That was what made me say what I said. Deep down I knew she wasn't what I had accused her of. She just didn't fit the profile of those demons. She had been physically abused and was so emotionally vulnerable that one indictment had her spiraling.

I dropped my hand limply by my side and looked on as she continued.

"Eva," I called out to her guilt-ridden but she didn't seem to hear me. Tears slipped through her closed eyelids. I walked close enough to her and hugged her. She was shivering a lot. She dropped her hands and kept them by her sides but didn't resist my embrace. She knew she needed it. We were quiet for a while. I caressed her damp, disheveled hair.

"I didn't do anything." She whispered, her voice hoarse and pleading.

"I know," I whispered back. "I am sorry."

She was quiet again, perhaps unsure of what to say. She pulled away and I nearly looked away from her tear-stained face and swollen red eyes. She looked like a wreck. I couldn't stand it. Partially it was my fault. I had called her what her family had called her. A murderer.

"I don't know how... when... why," she struggled to find the words.

"It's fine," I assured her before she started again. "We'll know what's going on soon enough." As I wiped her tears with my thumbs. I felt like we had a connection like sisters. Even though witches were the sworn enemies of humans. 

She was still shaking in my embrace so I pulled away from her and sat her down. "So what do you like to do?" I asked trying to relieve the tension and her bundled up nerves.

She looked blankly at me for a second not replying then she she wiped away the rest of her tears. She coughed twice to clear her throat. 

"Reading... I like reading." 

I looked around the room, surprise that I have not seen a single book lying around. 

Understanding my confusion she said: "I stopped a while back," she lowered her gaze. "After Thomas..."

"I am so sorry," I consoled truthfully. "That means we could have something in common," 

She looked up. "You like reading?" 

"I do... somewahat but not has much as singing but I don't anymore," 

"Why?" 

"My father...." 

At that Eva chuckled a bit. "We do have that in common, why are father's always doing that?" She joked. 

I laughed along. "It's been more than ten years since I sang a tune," 

"Wow! That long?" She asked, obviously stunned.

"Yes," 

"Then sing for me," Her eyes were lit with anticipation.

"Really?" 

"Of course, your father is not here, is he? I promise not to tell a soul." She winked. 

As Eva's request hung in the air, I felt a mixture of nervousness and nostalgia. It had been so long since I had sung for anyone, and the thought of sharing my voice with her made my heart race. 

Taking a deep breath, I cleared my throat and began to sing a soft, melodic tune that had always been one of my favorites. The words flowed effortlessly from my lips, carrying with them the emotions I had kept hidden for so long. As I sang, I could see Eva's eyes light up with surprise. She looked so stunned that had covered her mouth with her hand.

Her gaze remained fixed on me, and as the last note faded away, there was a moment of silence. Then, she broke into applause, her smile radiant. "That was beautiful," she said gushed. "You have most beautiful singing voice that I have ever heard." 

I blushed, feeling a warmth spread through me. "Thank you," I replied, genuinely touched by her reaction. "It's been a while since I've sung like that."

"It is so angelic, you can sing a thousand babies to sleep with a voice like that," she continued, her mood had lightened and I was glad.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

Xavier's POV

"My God it was gruesome!" The man lamented. "The rock tore through her stomach." He took off his hat. "She must have suffered."

"When did you discover her body?" I questioned.

"My wife was the one that found her," He gestured for his wife to come forward, which she did. In her arms was a baby with the brightest blue eyes playing with her red hair. "It was early in the morning on my way to the river, sire." She bowed but didn't look at all intimidated. Her sharp green eyes glared almost defiantly at me.

She didn't wait for another question before she began to speak again.

"She must have been killed yesterday night."

Killed?! The woman sounded too confident to dismiss. But I wouldn't lead her on. "How sure were you yesterday?"

"I walk through that path every morning and I didn't see her there before and not to mention there were fresh tracks that belonged to a carriage around the place I found her."

"How are you sure the carriage belonged to her or was there during her death?" I asked.

"The carriage was not there but the tracks left by the wheels are not those used by us, the commoners." She emphasized the last part a little too much.

"Its tracks were made by a wheel of a royal carriage."

"A Royal carriage?" I raised an eyebrow in question.

"Yes," She said, not wavering.

"Yes," One of my men, Felix, said. "You sure are an amazing carriage expert." He mocked.

"My father built carriages." She countered.

"And my great uncle made pots and pans. This is what happens when you allow peasants in here," Felix snorted when he turned to me. He turned back to the woman and her husband. "Leave now!" he said.

The woman looked at him with disdain and spat on the ground. Missing his shoe by less than an inch. She turned to her husband and gave him the child who immediately started to protest. She put her hand in her bosom and pulled out an emerald ring.

"I took this from her corpse."

I took it from the woman and looked closely at it trying to figure out where I had seen it before. There was no way a peasant could acquire such a ring.

"Goodness!" Felix exclaimed.

I looked at him. "You know who the owner is?" I asked.

"It's the Lady Juliet Lancaster ring!" He answered.

The dead woman was the king's mistress.