Tears brimmed at her eyes, as her hands shivered. The room surrounding was deprived and lonely, and she had the feeling it was mocking her.
“Please, please…” Eliza whispered, “Let it be a nightmare, a bad dream. I can’t have done this.”.
As her vision blurred, she could swear the blood on her hands was there, that stains of crimson were lining her palms. It was her doing. Richard’s dead body lay beyond the window, and it would only be a matter of time before it was found.
Eliza reached for the brim of her hood, pulling it over her head. Taking a sorrowful, shaky breath, she decided to do the only thing she knew how.
She had to run.
Turning on her feet, Eliza ran across the room and gripped onto the doorframe. Bloodied tears ran down her face, as she refused to turn back, hurrying down the stairs.
Skipping down the steps, she spun around and ran across the hallway. No sword for protection, her hood down, and covered in blood. If anyone saw her now, she would be killed.
‘That’s what you deserve,’ The voice returned, ‘You’re just as bad as him now, you both have blood on your hands.’.
“Stop…” Eliza whispered, clenching her eyes shut.
Shooting her head from left to right, she noticed yet another staircase ahead of her, one she had not noticed before. Eliza darted for that, wiping her pained tears away. A smudge of dried blood showed on her hand, and she quickly rubbed it off against her skirt.
Stepping out, she sprinted down the stairs through aching legs. It was a painful experience, while she had bleeding skin and sprained bones.
‘It’s all over now,’ The voice continued, ‘What good have you done, Elizabeth?’.
“It wasn’t my f-fault,” Eliza winced, gritting her teeth. “I never meant to kill him, I didn’t—".
‘Of course, you meant to,’ The voice never ceased, ‘It was destined to happen all along.’.
“If I could take it all back, I would,” Eliza cried, “It was a mistake, it was.”.
‘Convince yourself that, if you wish,’ The voice replied, ‘You’re truly a witch, after all.’.
“I’m not a WITCH!” Eliza screamed, slamming her fists into the brick. She sobbed and held herself in her arms, wishing for her mind to ease.
Her crooked feet urged her down the staircase, as she realised how long it was. There was a faint light at the bottom, as she peered inside. The room gave her a wave of déjà vu, but not a good one.
The dungeons, grim as ever, sat ahead. The grisly chains hung down from the walls, and the cells were locked shut, but no guards in sight.
“Oi!”.
Two mucky, fleshy hands gripped onto a chain and rattled it, causing the sound to echo across the hall. Eliza glanced over, stumbling out into the dungeon hall. The man gave her a toothless grin.
“Aye, I’ve seen you…” The man growled, one she faintly remembered.
His face could be recalled from anywhere. The King’s sidekick for snooping, James Willberry.
Turning to move on, Eliza took a step away. The man’s chains rattled again, as she sighed before glaring back.
“What?” Eliza spat, narrowing her eyes.
Willberry smirked, reaching out a hand. His cheap grin was foolish, and any reasonable person would have moved on. Reviewing all she had done, Eliza felt anything but reasonable.
“Care to keep me company, witchy-witch?” Willberry chuckled, wiggling his fingers through the air. Eliza ignored his hand, sinking against the wall. She felt defeated and had no motives to continue.
Satisfied, Willberry sat in the cell, relaxing onto his knees. The two sat in silence, avoiding one another’s gaze.
“Why’s you covered in the sticky stuff?” Willberry drawled.
“…Sticky stuff?”.
James giggled, playing with his fingers. The chains restraining him covered half of his face.
“I won’t blame you if you did kill somebody, it’d be a spoof if I said I haven’t done it.” He laughed, a strong accent from his voice.
“I don’t deserve your pity.” Eliza lamented, murmuring under her breath.
“Wasn’t offering it, witchy.” Willberry laughed again, throwing his head backwards, cruelly. She glared at the reckless man, who jokingly pouted in response.
“Hero’s guilt, is it?” Willberry sighed, “Never does be the same, after your first kill. If you are willing to do it once, it’ll never be your last.”.
“It was an accident.”.
Willberry’s eyes squinted at her, as he let out an exhausted groan. “You don’t kill by accident, that’s only what you tell yourself.”.
Eliza pressed her hand to her forehead, taking long breaths. Tears were freely running down her face, as the truth hit her in slow thoughts.
“If it were the new royal bride, I’d congratulate ye,” Willberry joked, “Pardon my mouth, but she sounded like a whiny—”.
“It was The King.” Eliza whispered, barely audible.
She watched as his face turned pale, his jaw drooling against the bar. Willberry’s eyes sparked, as he sat up straight.
“You—” The man lowered his voice, “You truly killed him? He’s dead?”.
“I didn’t want to, I told you it was a mistake.”.
Eliza sobbed into her arm, burying her face. Willberry’s expression turned neutral. He held one hand up to his mouth, pretending to whisper.
“Tell you the truth, kid,” Willberry shrugged, “It was bound to happen, although I never would have guessed it’d be you to do it.”.
“Neither did I.”.
Willberry grunted in response, as his eyes scanned the blood on her hands and face.
“I’d wash the sticky-stuff off if I were you, witchy,” He pointed out. “Get a bucket, dunk your head in, solves everything.”.
Eliza scoffed, soothing her aching hands. The clinking of the man’s chains was the only sound in the hall, and the rest was abandoned.
“Why are you the only one here?” She asked, her voice quieter than a mouse. Each cell was deserted, except his. He shrugged, tilting his head to the end of the corridor.
“I’m last to go, I’ve been preparing myself for execution,” Willberry explained. “After doing nought to deserve it, mind you.”.
“I know the feeling.”.
The man sighed, sniffling to the floor. The energy drained from his face, and his hands hung from the bars.
“By killing him, you’ve saved me from kicking the bucket,” Willberry shrugged, “I owe you, kid.”.
Eliza shrugged, taking a breath against the wall. She knew she deserved no praise, or even sympathy.
‘How did I get from a lavish lifestyle to this?’ She thought, ‘A murderer, lying in a stinking dungeon with a toothless fool.’.
Willberry fidgeted with the bars, barely offering her a side-glance. His eyes brightened up, as he excitedly turned back.
“Might that mean you’ll let me out of here, witchy-witch?” He asked, showing her a rotten grin.
Eliza crawled up to her feet, adjusting her hood over her face. She turned to walk, unsure of where she was headed.
“I could do that,” Eliza replied, watching the hope in his eyes. Memories flashed back of the past year, how the man had stalked her and gave all information he could find. Her face turned cold, “But I’m not.”.
His face sunk. Eliza could not help it, after all; it was tit for tat.
“Fair, I’m only testing my luck after all,” Willberry sighed, “Silly old me.”.
She gave a final glance, before quickly moving on.
Even she could not say why she chose to sit with him, but it was a moment of peace among the havoc.
“’Till our paths cross again, witchy!” Willberry called out, waving her a solemn goodbye. “If I’m still standing to tell the tale!”.
Reaching the end of the corridor, Eliza crossed the exit. It began at the bottom of another stone staircase; one she knew well.
Skipping up the steps, she took a breath. Her
emotion had built up, leading to her wondering if she could feel at all.
The stairs lead to the main hall, the one she had entered at the beginning. The large doors were spread open wide, and the people still gathered around the town centre.
Eliza blankly crossed the hall, taking one glance at the throne. A vision of Richard sitting there, overruling citizens flashed before her.
Then, his ghostlike body slowly morphed into a female, wearing a royal gown and the same crown he had.
It took her a moment to realise; it was herself she was imagining, but older and fairer than she was.
Stunned, she took a step back. Her eyes turned to her hands, the hallucinations of blood, more than there already was, returning through her eyes.
‘Is that what I am to become?’.
The thought frightened her more than any other, as she clenched her fists together. It all seemed too real, too terrible to be true.
‘Perhaps it runs in the family, it’s been in my blood all along.’ Eliza thought, vigorously shaking the thought away. ‘Not if I can help it; I never want to be like he was.’.
Clearing her head, Eliza shook herself awake, quickly headed for the doors. She stared out, watching the same crowds from before.
Fear, the genuine feeling, was distant. Instead, she felt nothing at all. The people who had made her life miserable, her disloyal ex-companion, all of them. Why did they deserve her pity, and for what?
“Eliza!”.
She paused, spinning her head around. Edward marched across the hall, coming from the side of the castle.
“No,” Eliza said, pushing her hands out. “Please, don’t come near me.”.
Edward did not comply, walking straight up to her. She flinched away, clutching her bloodied hands. It did not take him long to notice.
“Listen, it’s me.” Edward whispered, taking her hand in his. “You can talk to me.”.
She stumbled over words, staring at his face. He barely noticed how tightly he held her hand, instead focused on her.
“Edward, I—” Eliza paused, “I killed him, I’m sorry.”.
Her eyes fell, landing on his chest. She could not bear looking at him after that. Slowly, Edward knelt. His eyes looked up at her.
“I know.” He said. “We heard the thud, and I tried to come find you.”.
He did not look surprised, in fact, his eyes were understanding. Edward lifted her other hand, warming both inside his fists.
“Why aren’t you mad?” Eliza whispered. “You shouldn’t forgive me.”.
“Did you mean to kill him?”.
“No, he was trying to push me from the window, and I shoved him away. He stumbled backwards and fell, there was nothing I could do.” Eliza cried, shaking her head.
Edward nodded, with a comforting smile. He was calm, voicing gentle reassurance, while she was on the edge of a breakdown.
“That was self-defence, Eliza.” Edward murmured, “It’s alright.”.
She struggled to breathe, burying her tears. A flush of embarrassment came over her, for letting him see her so weak.
“That’s not all,” Eliza winced, preparing herself for what she would say. “I’m his niece, Edward.”.
The captain’s eyes went large. He mumbled underneath his breath, nervously laughing.
“You’re what?”.
“Princess Ruelle was my mother.” Eliza said softly. “She never disappeared; she ran off to marry my father.”.
Edward’s eyes drifted away, as he thought. He mumbled under his breath, before turning back.
“Yes, that makes sense.” He whispered. “That is why he put you in the tower, isn’t it?”.
She nodded, watching as the penny dropped. Edward’s eyes gave a bright spark, as he squeezed her hands.
“That means…”.
“I am next to the throne.” Eliza whispered, wiping the tears away.
Immediately, he pulled her hand to his chin. Edward kissed it gently, bowing his head to the floor.
“Your Highness.” Edward said, in disbelief.
She softly laughed, pulling her hand away. Even if he knew her, his first instinct upon knowing she was a royal, was to greet her like one.
“Please, stand.” Eliza giggled, as he stood to his feet. “Edward, I don’t want the throne.”.
Edward’s chin fell, in worse shock than before. He looked from her to the throne, gesturing toward it.
“Eliza, the castle needs an heir.” Edward said, “You would make a fine ruler, better than he was.”.
“I’m sorry.” She replied, “I just need time away. I need to flee this town, it’s not right for me to take the throne.”.
He looked disheartened, staring off into the open town. No one had spotted them yet, still stuck in their own worlds.
“I understand.” He mumbled, and his eyes shone in the light. She saw his hurt, the pain in his eye. It was clear, how he suffered from the night’s events; the ones he had and had not seen.
Eliza, before she could help herself, placed her hand on his cheek. She brushed his tear away with her thumb.
“I want you to take it, Edward.”.
His eyes shot to her. He could never truly take the throne, but he could protect it.
“Me?” Edward whispered. “I’m not an heir, I cannot.”.
“You have my consent, to maintain order in town, for now.” Eliza whispered. “And I know you will make a fine ruler; I trust you to be.”.
He solemnly nodded, raising a hand. Sadly smiling, he saluted her. No emotion was clear, but she could sense his pride.
“As you wish, Lady Elizabeth.”.
She scoffed, rubbing at her eyes. Her heart still felt strange, like a slow-sinking ship. Yet, she clung to the comfort, that it was not her fault.
“One last thing,” She smiled to herself. “Lady Cynthia shall remain here, in court. She’s being forced to marry a rotten man, and I want to use my title to help others, like my mother would have wanted.”.
“I will do,” Edward said, “And your trust will not go to waste. I swore my oath to the monarchy, and now we finally have a ruler worthy of that promise.”.
She nodded, smiling up to him. The two shared a look, living in the peace of another’s company, amidst the chaos.
“Thank you for everything, Edward.” Eliza whispered, “You are a king without a crown.”.
Eliza stood on her tiptoes. She left a light kiss on his cheek, holding onto his shoulders. The captain flushed pink, smiling.
“Eliza, there’s something I---” He was cut off by a bang from the town. The people were shouting, arguing amongst themselves.
She took that as her cue, to flee while they were distracted. They scattered with the noise, and that meant it was time, for Eliza.
“Yes?” Eliza asked, turning back to him. “What was it?”.
The knight gulped, rubbing the back of his neck. With a sad laugh, he shook himself straight.
“Nothing.” Edward sighed, “Be safe, wherever you go.”.
Eliza smiled, walking away. It felt like there should be more said, that she should have pushed him to speak. Yet, some things were better left unsaid.
“You will return, won’t you?” Edward asked, staring after her. He looked tempted to run after her, to not let her go. “I will see you again?”.
“You will.” Eliza smiled. “I hope that then, times will be better.”.
She reached the doors, stepping into the frosted air. Her hood blew back, revealing her pale face.
The people’s eyes darted to her, standing tall at the entrance to the castle. Smears of blood marked her face, crumbling specks of it on her hands, torn clothing.
The image of fear itself, but not her own, no longer her own.
She could read their faces; wide-eyed and fallen jaws. A blast of frostbitten air blew across the scene, and the sky shadowed like a thousand nights combined.
Eliza stepped down from the entrance, a sharp gleam in her eyes. Not the good kind, not one that ref
lected joy and satisfaction.
Rather, the opposite; one that brought fear and discomfort, one that made you rethink who you were and why.
Her loose hair blew past her face, and she scanned the faces of the distraught people. A woman stood ahead of her, but bowed her head instantly, when their gaze was shared.
As she began to walk forward, the villagers parted like a scarce ocean. People pulled their families and friends out of her path, mumbling apologies. Thomas’ body was gone, and tension struck the town.
She was unsure where she was headed. That did not matter, none of it did.
Watching the expressions, the fearful glimmer in the eyes of all those who wronged her; it was thrilling.
Eliza stood in the centre, surrounded by a circle of people. Their grim, blank faces gave her an uncertain look. One individual caught her eye.
Lucie Benson, the newly wed widow, stared back at her.
Her hair was a mess, sticking out at all ends. Her makeup was smudged and dirtied, and her glamourous wedding dress had been split open at the hem. Lucie locked eyes with her, as the girl opened her mouth to speak, wordlessly.
Eliza stepped out towards her, watching the young bride’s eyes fill with fear. The closer she got; the more Lucie trembled. Inches away, Eliza opened her mouth to speak.
Bewitched Page 26