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A night of rebellion

Historical / Thriller novel. The story is set in England around the early 1700s. A special, beautiful girl is born within the walls of Warwick Castle. But nobody really knows about the mask of falsehood with which this perfect girl manages to hide a much sadistic and mysterious character. A series of cold-blooded murders begin to become the norm at court, or at least until .... Book suitable for thriller lovers and for people not easily impressionable Suited to an adult or 14+ public

Smiley_Lux · Historia
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164 Chs

Princes and princesses

It was now five o'clock in the morning, as the warm spring sun came out from behind the high hills and with its weak heat warmed and illuminated everything with a rosy color.

At that moment Gilbert was standing in front of the heavy door that hid every secret that the princess could keep.

He stood there, in front of the mighty door and he was sweating cold.

The general was terrified that something could go wrong, but the man's curiosity and ambitions pushed him to commit the acts that his father had ordered.

Gilbert would have had to verify every document signed by the princess in regency time, every future planning and order for the country, even compromising evidence would have been enough. Everything to demonstrate loyalty to his house.

He was a Stanley and they weren't afraid, but if that were true, it was inexplicable to him why he was shaking.

He had perhaps inherited more from his mother than he thought.

He was afraid of Isabelle, of betraying her trust especially after sleeping with her for so many nights.

Gilbert was afraid of everything and everyone, something that a Stanley can't allow.

And so, without wasting any more time, with the iron point stolen from his room he tried as fast as possible to force the lock on the door.

The guards weren't there: this was suspicious, but it wasn't important.

It took fifteen minutes for the lock to break and let the door open followed by a slight creak.

The room was huge with white walls and a very clean marble floor.

Every object inside was neat and clean, almost as if that room had never been used by anyone, even knowing that generations of kings and queens had signed some of the most important deeds there.

But he couldn't waste time like that, he had to forcibly extract that information for his father as soon as possible.

The cold and dull light of the first sun appeared from one of the arched windows of the structure, illuminating the precious and large oak desk.

Gilbert began to inspect the table, analysing all the contours and even every crack or imperfection with his fingers.

Everything was in place, perfectly ordered.

He thus moved on to opening drawers, finding himself in front of an infinite number of documents with the signature of his young wife.

The general had finally found what he was looking for: compromising documents and traces which could lead to future plans for wars or alliances.

He hurriedly began to scroll through each sheet, read it, being just as careful to put everything back in its place.

Nothing, he couldn't find anything he was looking for.

That was the moment when the man was sure his life would end that day.

Once he raised his deep grey eyes from the many documents he noticed the small and angelic body of the princess herself.

Isabelle was staring at him with her big eyes, she had a strangely calm look which still let a certain disappointment shine through.

At that sight, the documents that the man held in his hands fell to the ground, scattering in a disorderly manner on the floor.

He had no way out.

The princess closed the door slowly behind her and with her lightning gaze returned to look at Gilbert.

-So you are a spy ...- she commented placing one of her small and soft hands on the chair next to her body.

Gilbert from his side was sweating cold, he was amazed and terrified by her presence, but he would not cry, he would not give her such satisfaction.

So pale in the face he could not help but remain silent and let his body fall back on the prized chair of the large desk.

He was ready for everything to happen but what followed was a gentle laugh from his future wife.

-Do you really think I didn't know that you would come here? - asked the young woman mockingly, sitting on the soft armchair nearby - I suspected everything from the beginning, this was in fact only a trap to test your fidelity ...-.

At those words Gilbert paled more, his thoughts were in that moment not about how the young woman knew all this but rather that it was stupid from him to ignore the lack of guards protecting the room.

-All this was a trap, but you failed miserably ...- Isabelle repeated getting up and slowly approaching the body of the man who awaiting his end lay hopelessly on the padded armchair.

-The marriage with you will no longer be of much use ...- the princess said ironically -in fact all these nights I have been with you not because I liked you or else- she continued moving one of the locks of her hair on her back -it was all a farce played by me during my fertile period just to let you get me pregnant-.

The young woman slowly moved her body behind the chair where the man was sitting, she gently brushed it's woody surface with her fingers and finally placed both her hands to massage the shoulders of her husband.

-But now everything is done Gilbert, now you are no longer needed, neither to me nor to my court- commented the young woman lowering a hand up to the edge of her gown and thus raising it.

-I'm sorry, please excuse me if I have come so far but you made a big mistake- the princess admitted promptly removing her hidden dagger planting it in her husband's chest.

Gilbert's eyes widened in a strong grip of pain, it hurt so bad ...

She had not planted it directly in the heart, but near to it so that the man's death was longer and full of pain.

Gilbert was no longer breathing, he could not make it, he was breathing heavily, he was afraid of death.

Something came up on his mouth, it was blood which directly and almost in sprays came out of the man's lips, wetting them with a lively and fresh red.

He knew his heart wouldn't last long, he knew he had to die.

Isabelle stood there, in the middle of the room, in front of him, she smiled, she didn't want to help him.

-I'm sorry Gilbert- she commented looking into the eyes of the man her dagger was killing -excuse me, but I cannot allow anyone to spread the secrets that in this castle will die with you-.

The man no longer felt like pulling the dagger out of his chest, as more of his own blood would come out, so in his last moments he stretched out his hand towards his wife and died.

The general died without saying anything, without a complaint but with many regrets.

He would never see the light again, never again would he be able to hug his loved ones.

He would not have been able to see his son be born or grow up, he would have never been able to say a last goodbye to this world or apologise to those who had done harm.

Gilbert died there, drowned in regrets and never thinking that one day his life would have to find an end.

He died pale in the face and with a single tear streaming down his gaunt cheeks.

Gilbert was dead.

Isabelle smiled again, another spy and potential enemy of her was over.

She had taken his life.

But she knew what to do, she knew she couldn't admit what she had done so she started screaming in fear.

The guards arrived there as soon as possible, but finding the desperate princess, none of their suspicions fell on her, but instead the attention fell on Gilbert who was lying dead on the chair.

There great rulers and sovereigns had been seated, and there the life of Gilbert, prince consort, had ended proving loyalty.