The Sixty-Fifth Chapter

“It was a pity for a person…” Rozelyn spoke, eyes fixed on the blazing body of Grainne Perkins, “…to die, while knowing that you did everything to live—including the fact that you exchange your freedom for immortality granted by the Blood Rose only to be murdered by a psychotic witch that, heaven knows, how the hell she did that.”

Cyrill patted her back, “The Heathens are hiding something, a secret weapon I suppose.”

“Grainne was a cancer patient, and had lived for a decade more thanks to the blood rose.”

She wiped her face, and then fixed her hair.

“Just like Rosette,” said Cyrill.

“Yes. Just like Rosette Richards…”

“You have done everything you could to protect us, Roz. If only we’ve known earlier about Rom—”

“I don’t want to hear her name again.”

He nodded, entirely agreeing with her. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry for me,” Rozelyn then smiled at him, in a bland manner.