Chapter forty-five
Monica staggered some more and placed a hand on her stomach. As if she did not expect it, she gawked at the blood that bathed her palm just before she crumpled down to sit upon the grass.
As though that was not enough trouble, she suddenly felt a knife to her throat. At that instant, she knew who to expect.
"I've always wished for a dual with you after all the stories," Olivia rasped to her ear, "but it's not so relishing when it has to be this easy."
Monica gave a dramatic gasp as though offended at the remark. Angrily, she clutched the Countess by her shoulders and pulled her over. When the woman's back violently landed on the ground, the Scottish climbed upon her with a painful groan.
She sent the first fist to her jaw, "How did you get married to that man?!" Second fist,"It isn't so easy to fight me now, is it?" Third fist.
Olivia had had enough of the torture. She reached out for the knife that had fallen to the grass. Her hands clawed around the dirt for the weapon as more hits fell on her face. Luckily, her fingers tapped on the tip of the blade and she pulled it closer. Desperate enough, the Countess gripped the knife and pushed it into Monica's arm.
Abruptly, the Scott rolled over to Olivia's side and yelled in agony. With both her stomach and arm badly wounded, she knew she was at a disadvantage.
A grin plastered on her opponent's lips as she got up to her feet and wiped her bleeding nose. Things were not going so well.
Olivia looked down at her as she rolled from side to side sulking in anger, "You think because you're a tad above weak you could get the world upon your shoulders." She sent a kick to Monica's side and let out a scream of victory, then kicks, and even more kicks.
Monica had begun crying silently now, completely giving up on ever winning this. When the wave of kicks had stopped, she opened her eyes and looked around the scene as soldiers upon soldiers fell dead around her.
All because of Kilmarnock?
Ignoring the physical pain she felt, guilt chewed her organs slowly, one by one, forcing her to recall what this so called revenge was all about.
She closed her eyes, waiting for her life to end. The others were so soaked in the clash with the soldiers that they barely noticed. And in the darkness, her one time joy was the first thing she saw.
The entire family all lived in a mansion once. And even with her mother acting like an outsider, they were peaceful. And happy. Just until Forland came into the story.
Monica opened her eyes and found Philip who was on the verge of slicing Fergus in pieces. And he'd eyes narrowed in anger. His father caused this…all of it!
And if she could only make one promise to herself, it would be to retrieve her home while teaching them all a big lesson. Her peace would return after that, she was sure.
It was then she heard a barrel gun cluck. Slowly, she looked above and found Olivia aiming at her, her finger rubbing the trigger hungrily. Time to end this!
With teeth clenched, Monica rolled away from the spot and pulled the Countess at her legs so she fell.
Despite the biting pain in her entire body, she mounted the woman once more and pulled on the knife fixed into her arm.
With a loud groan, the blade came through and was a bloody eyesore. Before Olivia knew what to do, Monica tossed the knife away and grabbed the lady's head in both hands.
Olivia's words of plea were half said before Monica twisted her neck in one, desperate go. A crack sound escaped with the action as the head of the Countess turned beyond its hinges, breaking bones until the woman stopped moving.
As Monica let go of her, her head dropped limply with her eyes still open. The Scottish panted in and out tiredly, realising what she'd done a little too late to rectify it.
Suddenly, she found herself gawking at the lifeless woman under her and got up to her feet slowly.
When she finally tore her gaze from her victim and looked around, the war had stopped and all eyes now fell on her. Apart from Fergus, the rest watched in surprise at this part of her that they'd never seen.
Earl of Garia however, stared at her helplessly, his lips parted and shivering with no words coming through. He began to stagger towards her weakly.
Just when she thought he came for her, Fergus fell down to his wife and pulled her into arms slowly. It was then he began jerking as his tears came pouring out. He sobbed bitterly, screaming no's now and then.
At some point, Monica thought she should apologize. But then, Fergus bounced back up to his feet suddenly and raised a dagger to her.
She could not have avoided it even if she tried; but then, he stopped.
Two shots were released from a gun and went into his back.
Monica shook at the sound and watched him. With his blade still raised in the air, Fergus widened his eyes as the pain spread through his entire body, a regretful look on his face. Maybe he shouldn't have come here in the first place.
He remained in that position shortly just before he came crumpling down before her, giving her full view of who the shooter had been.
Elizabeth…
After giving her cousin a nod of appreciation, she felt her knees weaken for some reason, and at that moment, her legs failed to support her weight.
The entire stress of the evening fell on her, and she surrendered, dropping to the grass. She was weaker than she'd ever felt in her life. Too weak to move.
While she struggled to keep her eyes open, the last thing she saw was the image of her friends rushing over and hovering around her. But then their faces all became a blur and she realized she was losing consciousness…or her life.