Chapter forty-three
"It is the feeling of guilt Monica," she said to the lady by her side, "I think it's my sins coming back haunt me."
The moon was right above them while they strode through the Palace gate. The silence around them was almost intimidating, surrounding the Scottish with a familiar feeling of caution.
She raised her dress above the grass, noticing the music from the orchestra die down behind them while they went deeper into the woods.
Back to Elizabeth's statement, Monica sighed and replied, "So you want to…repent." She turned her and raised a brow, "Is that the word?"
Elizabeth almost laughed. Stopping in her tracks, she turned to the red haired lass, "It's the feeling you get when you have a hand in your father's death, that of your brother's and of the man who gave birth to your betrothed."
The damsel nodded in understanding, "I'm glad you've realized your wrong." Monica took one look around the darkness surrounding them. At some point, she thought she saw something move. "What triggered this thought though," she continued with the dialogue, ignoring the hunch she felt to leave the woods and return to the party.
Elizabeth shrugged, "Apart from you and Anna, there's absolutely no one else I consider a friend. I hurt the ones who loved me Monica and failed to make new ones because wonderful people like Earl and Jason hate me at first sight."
Monica frowned. Did she just call Jason wonderful?
But that was not important now. If Elizabeth wanted contrition, she swore to help her get it. But the woods was the worst choice of venue for that. The hairs on her neck were standing in anxiety. Normally the dark never scared her, making Monica sure they were people lurking beneath the shadows. It was the feeling of being watched without knowing where the eyes were.
"Let's return to the palace," she told Elizabeth while her eyes began to search the surrounding.
The blonde did not quite understand why but she obeyed. With a frown on, she let Monica nudge her back towards the gates. And just when Monica was about to sigh of relief, she heard Elizabeth scream from her side.
With a gasp, the Scottish turned to notice an arrow fixed deep into the skin above her cousin's shoulder blade. Before she could analyse where exactly from the darkness it had come from, another one surged towards her, digging straight into her torso.
Automatically, she fell to Elizabeth's side, looking up at the moon while a groan escaped her lips. She knew she was right…something was lurking in the dark.
With pain, she made a fist around the arrow in her and pulled in one, painful go.
Elizabeth was sulking with tears in her eyes, her body curled up in one, protective knot. From the looks of it, it seemed like her first time to feel pain.
Without sitting up, Monica turned over to her cousin and felt her back for the point the arrow had sunk into, "I'll need you to be strong Elizabeth."
Without words, the blonde nodded and sulked some more. She felt Monica put a hand around the arrow and hesitate. After a look of assurance, the Scottish began to pull slowly.
Elizabeth wailed painfully, loud enough for their attackers to surely hear. At that, they released one more arrow.
With both ladies on the grass, the weapon missed them by a far chance, and at the same time, Monica had spotted its source. When she was through with Elizabeth, she ripped the hem of her dress and placed it over the bleeding hole. She was more tolerant…so hers could wait.
Quietly, she placed a hand over cousin's mouth while using her other to slip out a dagger from beneath her chemise. Stuffing weapons in her clothes was a habit she was never going to stop, given the number of enemies she had.
Her eyes searched the darkness again and waited patiently for an archer to shoot again. Seven seconds later, an arrow was released.
Just as before, it passed over them. But this time, Monica traced the source perfectly and flung her dagger to the part of the darkness the weapon had emerged from.
That action of hers brought a sudden pain to the wound in her torso, forcing her back to the grass. But she was certain her dagger had gotten one person at least. The proof came as a male shriek from the front.
Well that angered the others, and they received a sudden order to abandon their hiding places.
One by one, they hopped out of the dark like skilled assassins, forming a semicircle right in front of the ladies.
Monica studied the black clothed soldiers before her, cursing under her breath because the number was a total scare itself. Who were they?
Elizabeth had managed to turn around now and face the men. While both ladies analysed the small army from where they lay, an aura of defeat and helplessness befell them.
Monica would have had a little less despair if she was not wounded. While they still gawked, the army divided into two at the centre of them, seemingly giving way for someone to walk through. Or people…
A wealthy looking man came forth with a slender, beautiful woman by his side. Now their pain had turned into confusion. As much as Monica knew she had many enemies, she also knew she knew them one by one. But this… this had to be some sort of a mistake.
"Monica Maitland," The man said with a wicked grin.
And then the Scottish realized this attack was no mistake.
***
He looked up as Jason returned to their company. As far as he was concerned, the party was over for him, or them all.
The six were gathered on one of the many battlements of the King's estate, far away from the party as they could manage. With Monica and Elizabeth disappearing for that long, they couldn't help but wonder why.
Philip had hope in his eyes when he gawked at the Earl, praying he had tangible information on the ladies. The look the other man returned though shattered all that hope.
"They are not outside either," he told them all.
The Duke closed his eyes, breathing slowly so he wouldn't snap. After a moment of keeping his calm, he gave Jason a reassuring face, "The surrounding is massive. You must have missed them."
"It's also possible they're simply having one of those bloody feminine chitchats again," the Marquess added from the back.
Philip almost smiled at the possibility…but stopped when the King's butler made his way to Timothy and seemed to whisper something disturbing to the Prince.
With immediate effect, Timothy announced, "They went through the gates!"
"Through the gates!" Philip inquired in a pitch that almost scared them, "Why did you let them through the gates?"
Without waiting for an answer, he stumped out in a half run.
Earl frowned, still convinced the ladies were having a spicy gossip somewhere in the woods. Although reluctantly, he finally left the battlement after the others.