Henrietta's Self-saving

Chapter 17

Warning! Unedited.

‡‡‡‡‡

Despite the cool spring breeze flowing through the open windows of the room, Annie started to sweat profusely. She struggled to keep her features deceptively composed but the slight trembling of her hands and the building anxiety in her eyes could not escape my gaze.

"M-milady... H-how could I possibly do such a thing?" she asked, still feigning innocence.

I sighed. She's not much of an actress, is she?

I removed my gaze from her and put the teacup back on the table.

"Exactly. How could you?" I said. I placed my hands behind my back.

During times like these, what would Henrietta do? Would she punish Annie and throw her to a dungeon? Would she throw a fit? I pondered as I slowly walked past her.

The pointed heels of my shoes on the marble floor created clacking sounds with every step.

Did this happen in the original course of the story? If it did, Henrietta wouldn't die in Alaric's hand. Or maybe the thing Annie added to the tea wasn't meant to kill her?

All of these questions entered my mind and I tried to approach each logically as I made my way towards the door. The moment I reached the door, I came up with an answer.

I grabbed the doorknob and locked it.

It might not be a bad idea to approach it the situation in Henrietta's perspective.

"How could a mere servant like you harm your master?" I repeated but this time my tone came off as a warning. "Unless..."

I let go of the doorknob and slowly faced Annie. "You wanted revenge."

This time, Annie's fake composure started to crumble. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead as she desperately tried to avoid eye contact.

I crossed my arms across my chest. "After waking up from a vegetative state, I did become forbearing. But you must've thought I would turn a blind eye to every mistakes you did, didn't you?"

"No, I... I didn't-" Annie's hold on the tray tighten as she struggled to fight the growing anxiety.

I started walking around the room, pretending to examine every detail.

"Back in Hutchrene, it was still cold since it was the beginning of spring, yet you made me bathe in cold water," I said in a calm tone while examining the flowers in the vase with my finger.

"You served me bitter tea and inedible snacks then told me it was Giselle who prepared them and you were merely serving it to me," I continued. "Then, I woke up before sunset and was about to wash my face with the water in the basin. Yet because of Giselle's negligence, as you said, my hands were scalded."

From my peripheral vision, I saw how confusion and overwhelming anxiety surfaced on her features. Her brows were scrunched as if wondering how I was able to make these accusations and her eyes remained on the floor.

"You helped me get dressed the other day and then the others noticed a slit on the back of my skirt. I asked you and you said it was Giselle who prepared the dresses," I paused and turned to face her again while still wearing an aloof expression. "When it was your task to prepare all the things I need everyday and it was Giselle's job to re-inspect them. Yet, that day, you volunteered to help me in dressing up."