Chapter 25 Demanding the Keepsake
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Brielle consumed the serpent-vine without hesitation, chewing it thoroughly before swallowing it down.
“Lady Brielle, how do you feel? Is it helping?” Violet asked, her voice tight with worry.
The piercing ache in Brielle’s stomach began to dull. She could sense she wasn’t on the brink of death
anymore.
“Stay strong, my lady. I’ll make your father send for another healer,” Juliet said, taking a seat beside the bed and clasping Brielle’s hand. “Even if it costs me my old life, I won’t let you die.”
Brielle gave a grateful nod. “Thank you, Juliet.”
Juliet wiped her eyes and rose to leave.
“Violet, Juliet’s steps are unsteady-please help her,” Brielle said, now lying flat against the pillows. The pain throughout her body had eased considerably, and speaking no longer took such effort.
“Of course. Lady Brielle, rest now-we won’t be long.”
Violet followed Juliet out, pulling the chamber door shut behind her.
Alone, Brielle wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth. Her gaze was icy. She let her eyes fall closed.
Serpent-vine required cultivated seeds to grow-something no ordinary person could manage. Only those trained in healing arts could properly cultivate such a plant.
She was convinced both the serpent-vine and the carved griffin statue had been created by the same person: Brielle’s mother.
Someone knowledgeable in medicinal herbs and also versed in the old arts of placement and symbolism. Just who had Brielle’s mother really been?
Frowning, she felt a pang of longing. There weren’t many in Persandria skilled in both healing and the symbolic arts. Her own master had been one of those rare talents-she’d learned all she knew from her master. It was a pity her master’d been gone for so many years now.
A bold notion suddenly crossed her mind. Could Brielle’s mother actually have been her master?
But the more she considered it, the less plausible it seemned. Her master had been immensely capable-how could such a person have died so young?
It appeared that if she wanted to uncover Brielle’s mother’s true identity, she would first need to retrieve the keepsake she’d left behind.
Vincent grew irritated by Juliet’s pleading. Eventually, and with clear reluctance, he sent a servant to summon another healer. No one truly believed this healer could surpass Bruce of Clarke Estate, nor did anyone think Brielle still had any chance of survival.
Yet, when the healer arrived at the Luminary Chamber, he promptly prepared a tonic of antidotal herbs. After Brielle drank the mixture, the poison’s effects were temporarily subdued. Though weak, she was able to rise from her bed.
By then, night had fallen. Whitmore Manor was alive with activity. Vincent was playing the gracious host to Daniel, entertaining him with great enthusiasm. Daniel gently placed choice morsels onto Donna’s plate,
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Chapter 25 Demanding the Keepsake
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and Donna responded with a soft, blushing smile-a scene of warmth and contentment.
Just then, Brielle pushed the hall doors open and appeared before them.
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The glow of the candles illuminated her bloodstained gown. Her face was deathly pale, devoid of all color. The night wind stirred her unbound hair, giving her the eerie presence of a spectre. Her lips curled into a chill, unsettling smile. “Celebrating my death, are you?”
Donna went white with fright and shrank into Daniel’s embrace. “Are you… a spirit or a living soul?”
“What do I look like to you?” Brielle replied with a cold laugh.
Vincent was stunned. Was Brielle truly unharmed? Hadn’t Bruce declared there was no hope? With all the blood she’d been coughing up, she should have been dead-and yet, here she stood before them.
“Brielle, please… stop frightening everyone,” Donna said adopting a tremulous expression as she pressed closer to Daniel.
Daniel watched Brielle with a complex gaze. Even Bruce had pronounced her doomed-how could she still be alive? Perhaps this was merely a final rally before the end.
Seeing Donna so alarmed, Vincent rose, his temper flaring. He shot Brielle a sharp look. “So you’ve survived. How fortunate. Instead of resting, you come here playing the ghost and frightening your sister. Is this how an elder sister should behave?”
No matter the situation, Brielle always seemed to be the one at fault.
She let out a cold, mirthless laugh. “Don’t you all wish me dead? I’ve only come to show you I’m still here. My apologies for disappointing you.”
Vincent’s face darkened with displeasure. “Look at you-neither properly dressed nor decently composed. Wandering about in such a state-is this how a lady of your standing should act? You’ve already brought shame upon House Whitmore; you’ve stripped me of my dignity. And if you embarrass the Clarke family as well, I swear I will not be lenient.”
“Ha…” Brielle tipped her head back and laughed-a clear bell-like sound that, in the hushed night, seemed to carry a frosty edge.
“Who was it that made me into this… this half-living creature?” she asked, laughing until tears welled in her eyes.
First the family punishment, then poison to deliver the final blow.
What grave sins had she committed in a past life to deserve such a fate?
Vincent’s expression turned stormy. He hadn’t anticipated such a transformation in Brielle. Not only did she openly defy him now, but she also dared to make thinly veiled accusations before Daniel.
“You’ve clearly been driven mad by illness! You need to rest-now!” Vincent called out. “Guards!”
“I can leave on my own,” Brielle interrupted, her voice cold and steady.
“But before I go-Donna must return my mother’s keepsake to me.” Brielle’s eyes fixed on Donna like sharpened blades.
Donna’s heart gave a nervous flutter. She put on an air of innocent confusion and spoke timidly, “I truly
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Chapter 25 Demanding the Keepsake
know nothing of any keepsake. Why would I have any belongings of the late lady?”
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Fate Binds Me to Lord Clarke
