Chapter- 15

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A/N: Long, unedited chapter ahead. Do point out any typos :)

The oil lamp placed at the corner of the nightstand cast a soft glow on Lady Kiara's face. She was lying on the bed with her brown eyes trained up at the ceiling, biting her lips as she contemplated the present situation.

Three days have passed since the passing away of her knights. Not a clue about the perpetrator. Not a clue of her missing knights. As if this was not enough, the two guards who had been murdered two days ago— the mansion guards could not find anything about that either.

Lady Kiara knew it was not her place to interfere with the last incident, but she could feel it in her bones; there was some connection. The spots of blood on Ada's door prodded her.

Maybe she struggled?

Groaning, she rubbed her face. So many questions, none of them answered.

She wished to do nothing but sleep in today, feeling feverish for the past two days but Lea came in early in the morning. She announced that a guard had come to inform her that the Lady has been called upon by the Countess for morning tea.

"Take a seat and be comfortable, dear." The Countess had gestured towards the chair across hers. Up above their heads, the sky was bright. Birds were chirping, perched in the branches of the tree surrounding the private estate. Bees were dancing merrily around the flowers bloomed prettily in the well maintained garden.

Kiara had nodded obediently, reciprocating the small smile on the Countess' face, hoping it didn't look as fake as the old vampiress'. Five maids stood with the large umbrella over the Countess head.

Lady Kiara wondered why bother sitting in the sun if it is such a pain.

"How are you feeling, now?" Countess Rose Monroe's slender fingers had slowly wrapped around the goblet. Lifting it up, she had brought it closer to her red painted lips. "I heard you caught fever?"

Kiara's lips had managed to curve up in a convincingly polite smile. "Thank you for your consideration, My Lady." She had picked up a cup of tea for herself, eyeing the plate filled with biscuits. She would have had tasted at least one, if it were not for the nauseating swirls that made her restless as she remembered the blood splashed across the wall.

Blood.

Oh, my innocent guards.

Ralph, William, Benedict— all of them.

They did no wrong except following me here, trusting me with their lives.

As her nose tinged sharply and tears threatened to brim her eyes, she had quickly looked up at the Countess with a smile. "I feel better now. It happens to me a lot during this particular season, ever since I was but a small babe."

"Ah, that explains watery eyes." The Countess had nodded, seeming convinced.

A session of small talk had commenced after that, most of which Kiara could not be bothered to remember. Being born an aristocrat, she had been putting up the facade of deference ever since she remembers. It was a skill that needed no efforts to put in from her side.

Masks.

Masks of chivalry.

Masks of gentility.

That is all they wore to hide their fiendish selves.

Passing gentle smiles and nodding her head at this and that, Lady Kiara had hoped the time to pass sooner. She had felt exhaustion creeping in.

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