Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 167 - Hundred And Sixty Seven

Derek looked at the assassin one last time. The man was slumped against the wall, weeping with relief.

"You are free," Derek said. "Once your son is treated, you will leave the city. Never return."

The Shadow guard stepped forward. "I will handle it, Your Grace."

Derek nodded. "Get a dead body to replace him. Clear every information about him and take his son to the estate infirmary. Treat the boy. And," he added, "get me a cooling ointment. Fast."

The Shadow bowed and vanished into the darkness to execute the orders.

Derek walked out of the cell. The dungeon corridor was dim, lit only by a few sputtering torches. Marissa was waiting for him, leaning against the cold stone wall. She looked exhausted. Her dress was rumpled, her hair a mess, and the angry red mark on her neck was a stark reminder of how close she had come to death.

But she was alive.

Derek walked up to her. He took her hand, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles.

"I’m done with him," Derek said, his voice quiet.

"Did he talk?" Marissa asked, looking up at him.

"Yes," Derek said. His expression was grim. "He told me everything."

He looked at her neck, at the bruises beginning to form where the rope had dug in. His jaw tightened with anger, not at her, but for her.

"It was Senna," Derek said.

Marissa’s eyes widened slightly, then narrowed. She didn’t look surprised. She looked resigned.

"Of course," she whispered. "It had to be."

A few minutes later, the Shadow returned with a small jar of ointment. Derek took it and dismissed the guard.

"Sit," Derek said, guiding Marissa to a small wooden bench in the hallway.

Marissa sat. Derek opened the jar. The smell of mint and aloe filled the air. He dipped his fingers in and began applying it to her neck.

He was gentle. Incredibly gentle. His calloused fingers moved with a tenderness that belied his size. He rubbed the cool gel into the red line, then leaned in.

He blew air onto her skin, creating a cooling effect.

Marissa closed her eyes, savoring the relief. Her mind, however, was still working.

"She used disguise art," Marissa murmured, analyzing the clues while Derek tended to her. "I never thought she would be a magic wielder. That explains the perfect imitation. The voice. The face."

She opened her eyes, looking at the stone ceiling.

"That means she is from the West," Marissa said. "And they still have magic wielders there. It wasn’t a myth."

Derek continued applying the ointment, his brow furrowed. "I guess so," he replied. "It seems my father didn’t completely wipe them out. Or their abilities were inherited by the next generation. It is a dangerous legacy."

He finished applying the last coat. He wiped his hands on a cloth and looked at her, his eyes full of regret.

"I apologize again," He said, his voice thick with guilt. "It’s all my fault. I brought her into our lives. I protected her. I let a viper into our home."

Marissa shook her head. She reached out and touched his hand, stopping his self-recrimination. She smiled.

"Don’t blame yourself," she said softly. "Her schemes would fool anyone. She played on your honor. She played on my pride."

She sighed, looking down the dark hallway.

"But with magic," Marissa said, "if she hides, finding her would be hard. She could be anyone. She could be anywhere."

Derek’s expression hardened. He stood up, looking like the Grand Duke again.

"Leave it to me," Derek promised. "Magic leaves traces. I will find her. I have a plan."

Marissa nodded.

~ ••••• ~

The next morning, the sun streamed through the windows of Lady Jane’s opulent bedchamber.

Jane was smiling so beautifully. She sat at her vanity table, surrounded by pots of rouge and bottles of perfume. Her maid was brushing her hair, preparing her for the day.

Jane felt light. She felt victorious.

She had heard the best news ever that morning. A whisper from a guard. A rumor from the kitchen.

Marissa was dead.

Captain Odis had declared it. The official report said the Grand Duchess had committed suicide in her cell, overcome with shame and despair.

"Finally," Jane whispered to her reflection. "She is gone."

She picked up a ruby necklace. She imagined Liam’s reaction. He would be sad, of course. But he would get over it. And then, he would turn to her. He would see that she was the one who remained. The strong one.

She was about to stand up from her vanity, ready to go and comfort the Prince.

BANG!

The door to her room burst open. It slammed against the wall with such force that a picture frame fell and shattered.

Jane jumped, spinning around.

Prince Liam stood in the doorway.

He was not sad. He was not grieving.

He was in a rage.

His face was twisted in fury. His eyes were cold fire. He stormed into the room, kicking a chair out of his way.

"Your Highness?" Jane gasped, clutching her chest. "What is it?"

Liam marched up to her. He loomed over her, his presence terrifying.

"How dare you?" Liam shouted. His voice shook the room.

"How dare you defile me?" he roared.

Jane stared at him, confused and terrified. "Defile you? I don’t understand."

Liam grabbed her by the throat. He dug his fingers into her skin.

"Marissa!" Liam yelled. "You touched Marissa!"

"She... she committed suicide!" Jane stammered. "The Captain said..."

"Lies!" Liam screamed. "She was attacked! An assassin was in her cell! My guards found his body! Derek killed him when he found out!"

He pushed Jane away. She stumbled back, hitting her arm against the vanity.

"You sent him!" Liam accused. "You hired a killer to strangle her! You tried to steal what I wanted!"

Jane’s blood ran cold. He knew. Or he suspected.

"No!" Jane cried. "I didn’t! It wasn’t me!"

"Do not lie to me!" Liam snarled. "I warned you! I told you to stay away! I told you she was mine!"

He looked at her with pure disgust.

"You are a jealous, petty, murderous fool," Liam spat. "You thought you could remove her? You thought you could take her place?"

He laughed, a harsh, cruel sound.

"You are nothing compared to her," Liam said. "And now, because of you, she is lost to me. And I... I am left with you."

He looked at her one last time, his eyes filled with hate.

"You will be punished for disobedience," Liam whispered. "And you will pay for her death."