Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 170 - Hundred And Seventy

The throne room echoed with the primal scream of a father watching his child die. Lord Grayson, held back by two guards, thrashed against their grip, his eyes bulging as he watched the sword pierce his daughter’s chest.

"Jane! No!" he wailed, his voice cracking. "My child!"

Brooke, Liam’s silent shadow, stepped forward. He signaled the guards with a sharp flick of his wrist. "Take him away. To the dungeon."

The guards dragged the sobbing, broken lord from the room, his screams fading down the long corridor until only silence remained.

King Alistair stood by his throne, his face pale and drawn. He looked at his son, at the blood spreading on the marble floor. He sighed, a sound of deep, weary resignation.

"Why does he have to take matters into his own hands like this?" the King thought, rubbing his temple. "Why this brutality? Why here?"

But he said nothing to Liam.

"Court dismissed," the King announced, his voice hollow.

He stood up, his royal robes heavy on his shoulders, and walked out the side door, his entourage following in a hurried, frightened procession.

The other council members didn’t wait. They fled. They gathered their papers and rushed out of the main doors, not daring to look back at the scene on the steps. They had seen enough. They knew the message: Cross the Prince, and you die.

The heavy doors slammed shut.

Liam was alone with Jane.

He started to laugh.

It was a low, chilling sound that bounced off the high ceiling. He looked down at the woman impaled on his sword.

Jane was gasping, her breath coming in short, wet rattles. Blood bubbled at the corner of her mouth, staining her chin red. Her hands clutched the blade, trying to pull it out, but she was too weak. The pain was a blinding white fire in her chest.

"Why?" she asked, her voice a gurgling whisper. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with betrayal and confusion. "Why... me?"

Liam stopped laughing. His face went cold.

He twisted the sword.

Jane cried out, a strangled sound of agony as the steel turned in her wound. More blood spilled from her mouth, dripping onto his boots.

"You took away something I want," Liam said simply. "You tried to kill Marissa. You tried to destroy the only thing that interests me."

He leaned closer, watching the life fade from her eyes.

"I have to return the favor," he whispered. "A life for a life. You took my toy, so I take your life."

Jane shook her head weakly.

"But..." she gasped. "I didn’t... betray the King. I didn’t... write those letters."

Liam smiled. He leaned down until his lips were brushing her ear.

"Actually," he whispered, "I did."

Jane’s eyes widened in shock. The physical pain was momentarily forgotten, replaced by the shock of his confession.

"You... what?" she wheezed. "Why?"

"You don’t possess the privilege to know," Liam said, straightening up slightly. "My plans are beyond you, Jane. You were just a tool."

Jane looked at him. She saw the cold calculation in his eyes. She realized the truth. He had sacrificed her. He had framed her and her father to cover his own tracks, to hide his own dealings with the West.

She smiled then. It was a sad, bloody smile. She knew she was going to die. There was no escape.

"Then..." she whispered. "You knew it was me... who hired the assassin... all along, right?"

Liam nodded.

He reached out with his free hand. He gently pushed a strand of hair that was clinging to her tear-stained cheek, tucking it behind her ear. It was a tender gesture, grotesque in the context of the murder.

"I knew from the day Marissa was brought to that cell," Liam said. "I have spies everywhere, Jane. Even in your bedchamber."

He looked at her with a strange, performative sadness.

"I sent Brooke to take my letters," Liam explained softly. "I had him forge your handwriting. It was easy. You write so simply."

He touched her cheek, his thumb smearing a drop of blood.

"I gave you a chance to repent," Liam said. "I warned you to stay away. But you stepped on the chance I so generously gave. You killed her in my own dungeon." 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

He shook his head, looking disappointed.

"You caused all of this," he said. "Your death. Your father’s execution. Your family’s ruin. It is all because you couldn’t control your jealousy."

Jane’s strength was failing. Her vision was blurring. But she had one last thought. Her mother. Her sisters and her little brother.

She reached up and held his hand, her grip weak.

"Please," she begged, her voice barely audible. "Spare my family. My mother... my siblings... they are innocent. Think of the times I have helped you. Think of... of us. Please."

Liam looked at her hand on his. He remembered the nights she had warmed his bed. He remembered her loyalty and how she helped him acquire some informations that were useful to him.

He stroked her cheek one last time.

"Okay," Liam said. "I will spare your family. Your mother and siblings will live."

Jane let out a breath of relief.

"But your father," Liam added, his voice hard. "He will be executed. The King has given his decree. And I need a scapegoat for the treason."

Jane nodded. It was enough.

"Goodbye, Jane," Liam whispered.

He kissed her forehead. His lips were cold.

Then, he stood up. He planted his foot on her chest for leverage.

With a forceful yank, he pulled the blade out.

SHLINK.

The sound was wet and sickening. Jane gasped one last time, her body arching off the steps, and then she collapsed. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling, unseeing. She died in some seconds, her blood pooling around her like a crimson gown.

Liam stood over her. He looked at the blood on his sword. He looked at the dead woman who had loved him. He felt nothing but a mild annoyance at the mess.

"Brooke," he called out.

The side door opened instantly. Brooke walked in, his face impassive as always. He looked at the body, then at the Prince.

"Have this mess cleaned," Liam said.

He turned and walked away, his heavy boots leaving bloody footprints on the marble floor. He held his sword at his side, the steel dripping red, a trail of death following him out of the room.