One thing Annette had noticed about Beth was her tendency to speak far too quickly, as though her thoughts were racing ahead of her words. Annette could barely recall what she had said five minutes ago—too much information poured out before the previous sentence was even fully processed.
Regardless, she enjoyed listening to Beth complain about trivial matters—her cats (three of them), her constantly nagging mother, dresses, shoes, and everything in between.
How fortunate she was, Annette thought, to be untouched by real burdens. Beth had been sheltered her entire life, and it showed.
Annette couldn't help but wonder what her own life would have been like if her family had never been killed. Would she have been as soft and naive as Beth? It would have been nice—to worry about things like weddings and dresses instead of the man who destroyed her family and the revenge she now lived for.
She drew in a quiet breath. Life truly was unfair. Unfortunately, this path had been chosen for her, and she would have to walk it to the end. There was no other option.
"...and can you believe it, she wanted five hundred guests at the wedding?" Beth gestured animatedly as she spoke.
Annette chuckled softly. It never ceased to amuse her. "I think five hundred is a perfectly reasonable number for a wedding. You must remember your father is a lord, and you are to wed the mighty Viscount, son of a councilor. You cannot escape a large ceremony, my dear."
Beth sighed dramatically. "I suppose you're right. My parents are likely using it as an opportunity to impress their acquaintances. Marrying into the Salvador household is a very big deal."
"Of course it is."
Beth reached out and took Annette's hand. "You must be my bridesmaid. My sisters are too chaotic—they would ruin everything if I gave them any responsibility beyond being family."
Annette blinked in surprise. "Beth... forgive me, I don't think I—"
"Oh please, Annette," Beth interrupted quickly. "You're so organized and calm. I'm certain everything will go smoothly with you by my side."
Her heart softened. How could she refuse those pleading eyes and gentle words? She smiled. "It is an honor. I will not disappoint you, my friend."
Beth sighed in relief. "Thank you. That's one less thing for me to worry about." She gave Annette's hands two light pats before resting them back in her lap.
"Tomorrow, we'll begin shopping with my mother. She wants to look at dresses and choose flowers for the main hall." Beth turned to her. "I hope you don't mind if my mother joins us."
"Not at all," Annette replied.
"Very well. That's good to know." She toyed with the edge of her hair for a few seconds before looking back at Annette. "I would like to make a few things clear. I understand that you and the Viscount have… certain arrangements. I honestly do not mind if we share him."
Annette frowned before she could stop herself. "Whatever do you mean?"
She cleared her throat, shifting slightly closer. "What I mean is that I do not mind if you share a bed with the Viscount."
"What? I..."
"I know you said nothing is going on between you two at the moment. But it certainly won't remain that way. Even in the future, if it changes, I just want you to know I will not cause any trouble. I doubt I could handle the Viscount all by myself," she added with an awkward laugh.
Annette could only laugh in response. "Oh my goodness, Beth! You are something else. The Viscount and I would never share anything now or in the future. I would never share his bed. I couldn't even think of it without feeling repulsed."
The gods forbid that ever happens, she added silently.
Beth narrowed her eyes at her. "I... don't know how to respond to that. You must really dislike the Viscount."
Dislike was a generous word. Bitter hatred was far more accurate—but Annette would not say that aloud.
She pressed her lips together. "Something like that. Don't think too much about it. He is all yours; I want no part of him. I swear to you."
"Oh... alright," Beth whispered, reaching for a biscuit. She had only taken two bites when she began to cough harshly.
"Oh my dear!" Annette quickly reached for the cups beside them, but both were empty. "I'll go get you some water. Hold on."
She rubbed Beth's back briefly before hurrying toward the kitchen. To her surprise, there were no maids in sight as she made her way through the corridor.
After filling a tumbler with water, she rushed back. The coughing had stopped.
It must have subsided already, Annette thought to herself.
She twisted the handle and stepped back into the room.
Her entire body froze. Her eyes widened as the cup slipped from her grasp and crashed to the floor with a loud thud, water splashing across the tiles.
Her mind struggled to process what she was seeing. Without hesitation, she rushed to Beth, who lay crumpled on the floor in an unnatural position, her lips opening and closing as though she were trying to speak but no sound came.
Annette's hands trembled violently. Tears blurred her vision. Blood was everywhere, spilled across the floor, soaking into their dresses, a small pocket knife lodged deep at the base of Beth's neck.
"No... no, no..." Annette whispered, horror tightening her throat.
She reached for the knife with shaking fingers, yanking it free and flinging it across the room before pressing both hands hard against the wound, as if sheer will alone could stop the bleeding.
"You're going to be fine," she choked out, voice breaking. "Help is coming... you're going to be fine."
But even as she said it, the lie tasted bitter. Beth's skin was already cooling. Her pupils trembled, unfocused. Her lips had turned pale, tinged with blue.
"Help!" Annette screamed suddenly, raw panic ripping through her voice. "Someone—please! Gabriel! Grace! Guards!"
Her voice echoed down the halls, swallowed by the mansion's silence.
Beth's fingers twitched weakly, finding Annette's hand and holding on with the last of her strength. A fragile, desperate grip.
"I..." Beth tried to speak, but the words dissolved into a wet, broken breath. Tears slid down her cheeks.
Annette bent closer, sobs rising in her chest. "Stay with me… please, just stay with me—"
Another scream tore from her throat. "GUARDS!"
Tears fell freely now, unchecked. She squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment, as if that alone could hold the world together, then forced them open again.
A broken sob caught in her throat as she stared into Beth's lifeless eyes. She had seen death too many times to mistake it now, there was nothing left there. The girl was gone.
"Oh my God… no. No, no…" she whispered, her voice splintering. "How… why? Please… not you too."
Silence swallowed the room for a heartbeat.
Then came the sound of footsteps, close and fast.
The door burst open, and with it came a flood of gasps, frantic voices, and rising panic that tore through the air.
Annette didn't move.
She couldn't even lift her head.
"She... she murdered the future viscountess!"
"Call the guards!"
She stayed kneeling in the blood, hands still pressed to Beth as the world around her shattered.