Helena's Flight

The Duke's madness was without compromise. It was hot and cold. It was turbulent. No one knew what was happening to his mind. Surely he had lost himself, but what thread was he now functioning on.

After the wild laughter died down, the Duke told everyone to leave his room. When the pressing concerns were brought up again, he screamed at them.

"What is the reason for such stupid questions?! What do I pay you to do?! Have you suddenly turned into children who cannot manage without me?! Bury her! What else are you meant to do with a dead body?!"

His eyes were wide and blood shot.

"Take her to our cemetery and bury her! Get it over with this instant!"

Jeremiah spoke with caution. "What of her friends and family, should we -"

"I said get it over with this instant! Why does it need to be an occasion?! Do I look like I'm in the mood to attend another funeral? For what?! A bastard born whore I never cared for! Ha!"

There were gasps of shock. They had never heard the Duke speak that way about Duchess Tyren.

"Throw that bitch into ditch and leave her there! She's wasted enough of my time! Now get out and do not disturb me!" 

The Duke yanked at his hair again.

"Father!"

All eyes moved to the door as Helena's broken voice and equally broken expression came into view. She could not believe what the Duke had just said about her mother. Didn't he love her?

She flinched slightly when she saw the Duke's feral and glazed eyes.

Roelle started laughing again. "Oh, what do you want now you bothersome girl? Are you here to whine again? That is all you know how to do, isn't it? Pfft! Go whine to your dead mother. I'm not interested." 

Helena's jaw dropped in shock. Her eyes clouded with tears. She could not believe what she had just heard. This was the father who had loved her for nearly four years. She had done such a good job winning his heart that he even favored her over Felicia. How could he suddenly be so cruel? Wasn't he proud of her? She was the Saintess!

She immediately broke into a sob. "Father, how can you say that to me?!"

The Duke rolled his eyes. "Why are you always crying? Are you incapable of anything else?"

Helena grew angry. "How can you say that to me? At a time like this! When I have just lost my mother! I had to see her mutilated corpse! You are all I have left now! How can yo--I am in pain father! You should comfort me!"

"Oh, are you!? And you think you are the only one?! You think your pain is greater than mine?! Do you ever think about anyone apart from yourself, brat!?"

Helena stepped back and hugged herself. "That is not what I meant." Her tone grew softer. "I am not disregarding your---"

"Shut up, you bastard child!" The Duke roared, jumping off his bed. His face was flushed red and he panted like a hound.

The knights were alarmed and stepped in, shielding Helena from the Duke's line of sight. They feared he may attack his own daughter in his crazed state of mind. The butler walked over to Lady Helena. Some maids who were eavesdropping, were frozen in shock at what was unfolding between the Grand Duke and his precious adopted daughter. He had doted on her from the moment she arrived. The lack of blood tie meant nothing to him. He loved her as his own and that was all that was seen and heard. 

"Lady Helena, you must leave for your own safety. The Duke is not in a right state of mind." Jeremiah spoke to her in a hushed tone.

When she remained immobile, the butler nudged her towards her maids who immediately took each one of her arms and escorted her back to her chambers. They pitied their lady. She had only just woken up after fainting from the shock of seeing her mother's corpse and now she was insulted so severely by her own father.

What would become of the Del Montague family? 

Reaching her room, Helena threw herself face down on her bed and cried her heart out. She thought she had already cried herself dry after Alex's death, but now she had lost her mother and may lose her father as well. Her entire body shook from the force of her sobs. Only a month ago her life was perfect. Better than perfect. She was surrounded by people who loved her, she had removed her competition and she was going to marry the Crown Prince.

At that last thought, her head suddenly snapped up and she instructed her maids to prepare her a bath. They were confused by her sudden change in mood, but did as they were told.

An hour later, Helena was dressed in a beautiful black dress with a veil, on route to the palace. She hated to leave her mother like that, but she couldn't bear to go see her again. She was terrified of her mother's corpse. She was heartbroken by the Duke's treatment.

Is this how Felicia felt?

She quickly shook off the absurd thought and sat at the edge of her seat. Now more than ever she had to see her prince. She needed to be embraced in the arms of her lover and future husband. The Del Montague manor was no longer a home to her. She had to be with the people who still loved her and would show her sympathy.

Sadly, tragedy struck at the imperial palace too. Not crows, but an omen equally as daunting. 

Empress Eleanor was crying hysterically as she clutched her son's hand and sat at his bedside. Her beloved child had collapsed shortly after returning from Alexander's funeral.

And he had not woken up since.

He was sleeping like the dead. The palace physicians were unable to do anything. They could not even assess the nature of his sickness. It appeared the young prince's body had simply decided to stop working. He had a high fever that could not be lowered and all his muscles were taught. His expression was one of pain.

Both the Empress and Emperor were horrified as Constantine had explained to them in detail about the nature of Alexander's illness and now he was showing all the same symptoms. 

Eleanor was frantic, as she knew this meant her son would succumb in a month. Just as the Duke's son had! What could they do? How could they save him?

Prince Florentine was equally shocked and filled with pain. He was going to lose his big brother. The only family member who had always treated him well. 

I have to do something! What can I do?

He clenched his fists at the feeling of helplessness.

Neither the Pope or the Saintess had been able to save Alexander from the witch's curse. What hope was there for his brother?