The Aftermath

The duchess took advantage of the momentary freedom and slapped Beatrice across the face. "Don't you dare touch me with your filthy hands, you lying bitch!" she spat, her eyes flashing with anger.

"You're the one who's been spreading rumors about us, and now you're trying to attack me? You're sick, Beatrice."

Beatrice's chest heaved as her anger boiled over, igniting a fiery rage that burned through her veins. Her hands shook with fury, and she struggled to contain the overwhelming urge to lash out. How could her mother do this to her?

Beatrice was ready to strike back with all the pent-up anger and frustration because of her mother's blaming and delusion. But Richard's cold voice cut through the tension like a knife. 

"Enough of all of this," Richard said, his voice firm but icy. "Let's end this here. Beatrice and Arthur, both of you go back to your room."

"What the hell, brother? Are you taking her side?!" Beatrice exploded. She wouldn't let this go until she found out the truth about her mother's affairs. She was tired of being mocked by her own mother.

"Richard, surely you can see that she's lost it," Arthur chimed in, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Do you think we're insane too?" His eyes were bloodshot, full of anger and dissatisfaction.

Duchess Alicia, meanwhile, looked smug and self-righteous. "I am a devout believer in God. I'm never lying, let alone having an affair," she declared, her words laced with indignation. "You're all insane for not seeing that."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Following your delusions blindly is so much better," he said, his words laced with sarcasm.

"You insolent little--" She was furious, but Richard cut her off.

"Enough!" he thundered, his voice commanding and authoritative. He turned to the butler who had been standing in the corner. "Take Edward to one of the rooms and call the priest to heal him," he ordered. 

Then he turned to face her, his eyes pierced. "And you, mother, should be ashamed of yourself," he said, his voice filled with disappointment and disgust. With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving the rest of them in stunned silence. 

Beatrice clenched her fists in frustration, her mind racing with a thousand different emotions. She was torn between anger at her mother's betrayal, sadness at the fractured relationships within her family, and a deep sense of despair at the possibility of ever finding peace and happiness again in this family. But as she thinks again, has she ever been happy with her family? 

Arthur, meanwhile, let out a bitter laugh. "Well, that was certainly a lovely family reunion," he said, his words dripping with sarcasm. "I hope we can do this again sometime."

The duchess bristled with indignation, her cheeks flushed with anger. "How dare you speak to me like that?" she snapped at Arthur. "You have no right–"

"Save it, mother," Beatrice cut in, her voice sharp and cutting. "We're done here." With that, she turned and stormed out of the room, leaving her mother and brother standing alone in the aftermath of their explosive argument and Edward's torture.

. . . 

As the sun rose, its warm rays penetrated the large windows, filling the room with a serene glow. But for Edward, it brought no comfort, no solace. It only reminded him of the horrors of the previous night. He sat up, clutching the sheets tightly, his mind racing with thoughts of the torture he had endured.

Arthur, that twisted sadist, had been tormenting him without mercy. His body felt numb, yet the emotional trauma was still fresh, the pain was still present. He could barely breathe, his heart pounding with anxiety and fear. His mind replayed the sound of his own voice screaming in agony as Alicia cried out in unison with him.

The room was filled with the eerie echoes of opera music, its high notes piercing the air like thunder and sending shivers down Edward's spine. He could still feel the whip lashing against his skin, each strike digging deeper and deeper until his flesh and blood scattered all over the place.

The memories were overwhelming, causing his breath to become ragged and his stomach to knot in agony. He felt as though he might be sick at any moment. The trauma was too much to bear.

He hugged himself tightly, shivering in fear of the door opening, and Arthur returning to continue his torture. The anxiety was overwhelming, making him feel nauseous and dizzy. But to his surprise, it wasn't Arthur–

Edward's heart raced as he stared at Richard, his fury building with each passing moment. "What are you doing?" Richard's baritone voice cut through the tension in the room, causing Edward to tense up even more. "Get a grip of yourself," his voice was firm and commanding.

Edward's eyes widened in disbelief at Richard's words. Was he serious? Did he not see the trauma and pain he had suffered at the hands of his siblings?

"What do you mean, Richard!? Your brother and sister were crazy!" Edward's voice rumbled with anger as he spoke. "Look at what they did to me!" his voice rising in fury. "How dare you and your family treat me, a royal, like this!" His bloodshot eyes glared at Richard, furious that he seemed so relaxed and unapologetic. This family was truly insane.

But Richard remained calm and collected, his voice still as icy as ever. "Stop being so dramatic," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You're lucky I arrived in time to save you from Arthur's wrath. He's not exactly known for his patience," he said, his tone filled with disdain.

"You are in more trouble than all of us. Are you not ashamed of yourself? The royal family will certainly be proud of you," he chuckled, full of sarcasm.

Edward's temples began to sweat, as he realized the truth of Richard's words. If his affair with Alicia was revealed to society, all of his positions would be in jeopardy. As a captain of the Holy Knights, he would surely be mocked and ridiculed.

Richard's smile crooked as he continued to speak. "Third Prince, you understand perfectly well what I mean. All you need to do is take Beatrice's heart, offer her a sincere apology, and act as if nothing happened. It would make your life much easier, wouldn't it?"

With that, Richard stood up abruptly, towering over Edward with an intimidating presence. He leaned in close, his eyes locked onto Edward's, and whispered, "Remember this, you're on thin ice, and one misstep will be your downfall. Don't even think about crossing me and my family again, or you will regret it." With that, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving Edward feeling uneasy and unsure of his next move.

.. 

Beatrice had always been a darling of the Devonshire Dukedom, showered with love and attention from her father and brother. But for Richard, that was all just a means to an end. He had bigger plans for their family and saw Beatrice as a pawn to be used to gain political power.

He had worked tirelessly to secure her betrothal to the Crown Prince, knowing full well the political power that could bring to their dukedom. Yet, fate had dealt them a cruel hand and the King had chosen Edward, the third Prince, as her match instead. Richard seethed with anger and disappointment, feeling that all his efforts had been for naught.

While there were many ways to make one of the descendants of Devonshire Dukedom to be King. As much as he loathed to admit it, Edward's frail disposition made him an unfit candidate for such a grand ambition. He needed a pawn with a strong backbone, one that could withstand the weight of the crown and bring glory to the Devonshire name for generations to come. However, this affair would be his end to bring his family descendants as a royal

Richard sat across from Beatrice in the garden, the scent of roses in the air. He spoke with a commanding, cold tone, "Beatrice, you need to forget about what happened yesterday and get along with Edward."

They were basking in the peacefulness of tea time in the garden, where the fragrant roses had been carefully trimmed and the sun's warm rays gently caressed the ground.

However, the suddenness of Richard's statement startled Beatrice, causing her to almost drop her teacup. Her heart pounded with anger as she asked, "Excuse me?"

"Forgive Edward," Richard repeated, ready for her outburst.

Beatrice's fury burned like wildfire, her grip on the delicate teacup tightening until her knuckles turned white. She could feel the boiling anger seething within her, threatening to spill out in a torrent of words she wouldn't be able to control.

She slammed the cup down with a resounding crash. How dare he suggest such a thing! Does he not understand how humiliated she feels! This matter is not a joke! Her fiance cheated on her own mother!

She couldn't believe her own brother would ask her to forget and forgive so easily. How could she just sweep this under the rug and act as if nothing had happened? Her heart was broken, shattered into a million pieces that would take a lifetime to repair.

The mere thought of forgiving Edward made her blood boil even hotter. How could she forgive him for something so unforgivable? The hurt and betrayal he caused her was something she would never forget, something that would haunt her for the rest of her days.

"Are you mad? Has our mother's insanity influenced you?" she yelled.

Richard remained calm and collected, knowing it was futile to try and convince her with rational thought. "Listen to me, this affair will be disastrous not just for you, but for the whole family," he said. "If the royals know Arthur tortures him, what will Your Majesty think?"

"Screw the King! I don't want the two of them free from punishment!" Beatrice screamed, tears welling up in her eyes.

She was not just angry, but also deeply disappointed with her brother's statement. How could he be so cold and insensitive? Did he not care about her feelings at all? She couldn't believe that her own brother could be so callous in the face of her pain.

"So you wanted them dead? Wow, what a mature response to your family problems," Richard retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Beatrice's emotional outburst only made him more irritated. "Stop being childish and realize that you are at fault too for that affair and this is just an affair Beatrice, everyone does that at some point," he continued his tone icy cold. 

Beatrice's hands trembled with furry as she slammed the table and stood up. "How dare you say that to me!" she shouted, her voice full of rage and her eyes full of tears. "I'm not at fault and I didn't do anything wrong! Why would you blame me?"

"Because clearly, Mother is irresistible, and who wouldn't want a taste of that?" he retorted with heavy sarcasm, rolling his eyes at Beatrice's comment. "And you, Beatrice, are just a pathetic excuse for a woman who can only throw a tantrum like a spoiled brat."