Since the moment she arrived back at the capital, it had been raining heavily. Just a few minutes ago, as she walked through the hallway up to the side room she had been told to wait in, she had heard two of the servants complaining that she sky was so dark all the time that if it wasn’t for the clocks they wouldn’t be able to tell if it was night or day. The Royal Meteorological Observatory had sent a report to the press just the previous day, warning that it could easily be the storm of the century, and although it didn’t seem to be raining enough to cause flooding, it could happen if it kept going for more than another week, which was likely, so government officers were already taking precautions.

  It wasn’t the greatest time to celebrate a ball.

  A shiver went down Rose’s spine as she looked through one of the palace’s windows, down towards the garden. She knew for a fact that the lights outside had to be on, but it was so dark and it rained so heavily that she couldn’t see it. Of course, thatharic current being so weak at that wing didn’t help. Someone had mentioned that they’d soon replace the current installation with a more modern one. Rose sighed. She had realized that she was thinking about anything that she was seeing to avoid having to think about what would be happening in a matter of hours.

  It felt surreal that, after those two months of unwarranted suffering she could just be exonerated of everything she hadn’t done and then just be normal about it. But surprisingly enough, she couldn’t bring herself to hate neither the prince nor Miss Rabineau at all. She didn’t understand her explanation, but they both had seemed so honest that she couldn’t help but genuinely believe that they had done it for the greater good so even if she did, in fact, have some reservation about it, deep within her, she wanted to and had already decided to fully forgive both of them, specially Rull.

  They had barely only talked once since she returned from home and was housed for some time at the Rabineau residence, which was more luxurious than anything she was really accustomed to, but he had asked, in his own way, for her forgiveness. She turned him down, just slightly, at that point, but wouldn’t do when he asked again. After what happened, she wanted to make him beg a bit for it, at least to quell her inner issues with it. She thought of it as a payment of sorts, and when she had commented as much to Miss Rabineau she had agreed with her.

  She hadn’t heard any knocking when one of the doors of the room opened, letting in a curious mustached man who was wearing his top hat inside, and followed by a shorter brunette girl who seemed to have the aspect of someone who is in alert the entire time but also exhausted. In close examination, the man also seemed to be tired. He appeared to be fairly young, not that much older than the prince, but both the mustache, his broad shoulders, and the general expression of his face made him seem at least a decade older than he probably was. He was wearing a three piece suit, in blue, with a frock coat of a darker tone and a light pink tie, in a very dandyish fashion. The girl, however, although it took a moment for Rose to really place it, was wearing a formal police uniform.

  She flinched. Something in her mind rattled about the exoneration and the long buried idea that she may have been tricked in some nightmarish way.

  “Pardon me.” The man began, he sounded polite, but his voice was slightly hoarse as if he had been screaming just moments ago. “Am I in the presence of the much esteemed Lady Rose Wynthart?”

  Rose nodded and briefly glanced down at her dress, it was simpler than any other ballgown she had ever worn, seeming more like a nightgown than anything else, and it was in pure white. Rabineau had insisted, but she still felt like it was inadequate for such an event, the meaning behind it notwithstanding. A small blush of embarrassment appeared in her face.

  “My. I must say, milady, you have put us in a bit of a grinder for the past two months. Not that it is really your fault, of course, the saints know what may be going on inside his Highness’ head…” He sighed, his voice softening a little. “That said, where are my manners? I am Ludis de Crato, perhaps regrettably I hold the office of being the Eyes of the King.”

  Rose blinked, she had heard that name before. “Oh… um… Are you perhaps related to Lord Crato, the minister of Public Works?”

  “My father.” He answered, the tone of his voice seemed to be one of almost disdain. “Although I am also, by Privilege of Office, also Lord Crato.” Then he took a single, small, step back and gestured towards the girl who accompanied him. “This is Clarissa, who was assigned to them when the constabulary decided to dig their noses into this business around you, milady.”

  The constable, Clarissa, shot him a dirty look, muttering something that Rose was unable to hear, then she made a bow. “At your service, milady.”

  She seemed quite polite. But one thing rung an alarm in Rose’s mind. “Lord Crato, if I may ask the question. I understand that this whole event was, in a way to call it, not real. I would have assumed that I was not actually prosecuted, so why did the constabulary enter into this?”

  His expression changed into a more grave one. He removed the top hat and seemed ready to begin to explain when Clarissa intervened. “Because of the mass vanishing, milady. As it happens one of the deceased, allegedly, reported the presence of a strange person standing in front of your residence. We are still not entirely sure of any of the details, and are working on theories, but we assume you’re related in some way to these events.”

  He shot her a dirty look and muttered something that Rose could hear about whether there is or isn’t a gag order on the case. But Rose couldn’t quite process any of it. She had read the news of such a disturbing case, of course, but she was not aware of the proximity of a probable killer to her townhouse. Her hands trembled before she forced them to stay still.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Is…” Her voice was shaky. She couldn’t mentally assume it yet, but she was afraid. “Lord Crato, is that why upon my return to the capital I was not allowed to return to my residence?”

  He nodded. “Yes, the Rabineau estate is rather well-guarded. For a lifetime noble, that old man really knows how to get loyal security.”

  Rose sighed. “Then, if I may ask, would it be possible to know when I will be able to return to my townhouse?”

  Lord Crato crossed his arms, briefly in thought. “I cannot say yet. The problem, milady, is that we do not know why you were targeted to begin with. I have been told that this Miss Rabineau has investigated even in your home province and there is nothing that indicates why anyone would do any of this.”

  Clarissa shot him a look, he looked confused for a moment but then Rose asked the obvious question: “Target me?”

  Rose’s mind seemed to come to a halt, filling with questions. The idea that someone could commit a mass murder specifically to target her sounded absurd, but she had seen whatever that was back at the prince’s villa, she had so much security around her, she had… She felt her breathing become difficult, her sight became blurry. When she came back to her senses she was in a seat, on one of the room’s corners. Lord Crato holding her hand. Clarissa was nowhere to be seen.

  “I must apologize, Lady Wynthart, but I am unaware of how much you know of this case and to be honest, being so deeply involved in such an unpleasant matter for months have made me loose in my words in ways that I can see can be quite regrettable.” He spoke to her in a high manner, and yet, condescendingly, in the way one might talk to a child just to make them not ask any more questions. She wasn’t going to just take that.

  “That has an easy solution, does it not?” She said, arching an eyebrow a bit.

  Lord Crato blinked and took in some air. “And let you, milady, pass out again?”

  Rose’s lips trembled and she exhaled. She wasn’t in the mood to fight and it wouldn’t be easy to convince this man, but she would try, even if it was for the sake of her own pride. Honestly, she was quite a fair bit tired of being treated like she was so fragile since they, all of these people around her, caused trouble for her.

  “Lord Crato, if that is the case, you may wait until I wake up back and then keep telling me. If you have gone through two months of investigation, it would not be too much to assume that you have built up the patience to inform someone who clearly needs it, have you not?” There was acid in her voice and she was relishing it.

  The mustached man grimaced and was about to speak when Rabineau entered the room. She was in a dress much like the one she wore at the terrible ball that started this all, if significantly simpler, far less opulent. It looked great on her.

  “Lord Ludis de Crato?” She asked, crossing her arms.

  He turned around and looked at her, Rose couldn’t see his expression but something inside of her told her he was smiling. “Ah, Miss Rabineau, is it time already for the exoneration? I was having a hopefully productive little chatter with Lady Wynthart.”

  “It starts two hours from now. But his Highness wants to see you, personally. So you can give him the evidence.” She said. Maran briefly glanced towards Rose, a small smile appeared in her face.

  Lord Crato arched an eyebrow. “The evidence? If he means the one regarding Lady Wynthart’s case, I do not have any of it, nor I was asked to hold it.”

  Maran shook her head. “No, I mean those from the constabulary regarding the groups potentially involved in the case, so protective protocols can be developed following the exoneration.”

  They began arguing, but Rose was no longer listening to any of them. Her head was banging, as if there was a loud noise that had inundated the room. Like the great drums at some of the older ceremonies she had sometimes been to, such as the Soulswear, which her father had insisted in bringing her to in the Holy City, in which they did it in such an ancient, yet enchanting way. However there was no sound, only pain inside her ears. She rose up and let out a small scream for help. Both noticed it and tried to help her, maybe they were asking about what had happened, she could read it on their lips, but she was completely unable to hear any of their voices. She was sweating, terrified. She tried to shut it down, telling her brain that it was just a panic attack, but her body was beginning to get limp.

  She saw Crato run away, probably to fetch a doctor. She could see Miss Rabineau screaming at her, she also seemed to be terrified. Her vision went black.

  Rose was awake, she could feel everything around her, but couldn’t talk, or move or hear. She could tell she was alive, but it felt like she wasn’t. And then, at a distance, behind her, she could feel someone else.

  “Lady Wynthart” What spoke wasn’t so much a voice as a direct message beamed to her mind. “It is a shame that we have spoken so little, but alas, the party is to begin very soon and you will be the leading lady of it.”

  “Who are you? What is this?” Rose thought, panicking.

  A sensation of amusement came in her mind. It was such an strange sensation that it gave her even more terror than what she was already feeling. She couldn’t see anything, but she could sense what was talking to her.

  She suddenly gasped, and light inundated her vision, she was back. Next to her, next to Miss Rabineau was an older woman in a maid uniform, she was holding a bottle of some transparent liquid and a bit of cotton. Her mouth tasted like mint, but in an overwhelming and disgusting way. She saw his Highness prince Rull at the door, rushing towards her as if in slow motion.

  The following moments were a blur, they were all talking to her, trying to confirm if she was well, if she could talk, what had happened to her, everything. According to the maid, tho may have been middle aged, and was apparently a nurse to the court’s physician, it had all the signs of a severe panic attack. And that she was likely to be normal again if the ball was put back for a few minutes. After all, it was just an excuse for the exoneration anyway.

  Rose couldn’t simply refute it, even if it didn’t feel at all like a panic attack, but she decided, or at least something within her decided, to keep quiet about her experience in the dark. Lest any of it ruins what is supposed to happen. Even if she was still very scared about it. And yet, there was one thing that she couldn’t get her out of her mind as she was escorted by the prince to a washroom so she could get the sweat out of her face and arms.

  What she felt that was talking to her, was not a human being.