Chapter 46 - Ball Conflict Part 2

Belvane's attack on Theresa was swift and brutal, but she refused to become a victim. As he lunged for her, she reacted instinctively, bringing her heel down sharply onto his foot with all her force. Belvane cried out in pain, momentarily distracted. Seizing the opportunity, Theresa grabbed a heavy vase from a nearby table and, in a surge of adrenaline, smashed it over his head. The vase shattered, showering him with fragments.

Stunned and disoriented, Belvane stumbled backward, his foot catching on the edge of the table. In his flailing attempt to regain his balance, he knocked over several more vases that adorned the table's surface. They crashed to the floor in a cacophony of shattering pottery, sending sharp shards flying in all directions. The spilled water from the broken vases created a slick, treacherous surface.

Belvane, still reeling from the blow to his head and the pain in his foot, lost his footing completely. He fell heavily onto the floor, landing directly on the jagged pieces of the broken vases. The sharp shards pierced his skin, some cutting into his face and others embedding themselves in his knees. Tragically, one large, particularly sharp piece of pottery found its mark, piercing his heart.

Theresa stood frozen, still reeling from the sudden violence. She was in shock, her feet rooted to the spot, her eyes fixed on Belvane's unmoving body on the floor. The world seemed to spin. Then, she noticed it – a dark, spreading stain on the floor. Blood. The metallic scent of it filled the air, snapping her back to reality. Theresa gasped, a wave of disbelief washing over her. She couldn't believe what had just happened. "Sir Belvane?" she whispered, her voice trembling. There was no response.

Hesitantly, she took a few steps closer. The sight was even more horrifying up close. Sharp pieces of broken vase were embedded in Belvane's body. One large shard protruded from his chest, right over his heart. Theresa knelt beside him, her hand shaking as she reached out to check his pulse. There was nothing. No heartbeat. No breath. 'He's dead', the thought echoed in her mind, making her head spin. She looked down at her trembling hand, now stained with blood. Panic began to set in. Her thoughts raced to her child, Madeline. Oh no! she thought frantically. 'What am I going to do?'

Meanwhile, at the ball, the people crowding the doorway suddenly got quiet and moved aside. Princess Vivienne walked in, holding hands with her husband, Sir Roland Claudio. Everyone was amazed by how beautiful the princess was, even though she was older. They thought the princess and Sir Roland looked wonderful together, and they admired how important and powerful they were. People whispered to each other about how great they looked and how much influence they had. Lots of people noticed the beautiful necklace the princess was wearing.

Just after Princess Vivienne made her grand entrance, with everyone admiring her and Sir Roland, King Alexander of Carthage walked in. Young Prince Sebastian, looking very serious, was with him. Everyone knew the king was a powerful and important man, and seeing the young prince there too made it clear that this party was a really big deal. The room buzzed with excitement.

"Your necklace is so pretty, Princess!" a noblewoman exclaimed, approaching her. She admired the delicate craftsmanship and the way the gems shimmered in the light. "It's truly stunning. Where did you find such a treasure?"

Another lady, who clearly held a higher social standing, joined the conversation. "I remember hearing about the caravan that recently arrived from the Verdantia Empire," she said, her voice laced with curiosity. "They were said to have brought many wonderful goods. Exquisite things, I believe they called them. Did your necklace perhaps come from there?" she asked the princess, her eyes sparkling with interest.

King Alexander, who was nearby, overheard the exchange. He glanced at his sister, but her hand hid the necklace from view, so he couldn't see it clearly.

However, Prince Sebastian, who was also present, noticed something that Alexander missed. He saw the chain of the necklace peeking out from Vivienne's hand. His eyes narrowed. 'I can't be mistaken,' he thought to himself. 'Mother's necklace had a very unique design, even the chain was special. I remember asking my tutor from Verdantia about it once, and even they didn't know where it came from. And even my own attendant, who searched everywhere, couldn't find where Mother had bought it.' A troubling suspicion began to form in the kid's mind. 

Sebastian walked directly over to his aunt, intending to question her, when...BANG! A huge, loud noise came from one of the rooms in the castle. It was so sudden and unexpected that everyone jumped. The happy chatter stopped, and a hush fell over the crowd. King Alexander looked around, his face a little worried. "What was that?" he asked one of his guards, looking for answers. Princess Vivienne, who had been enjoying the attention, frowned. Her eyes became narrow, and she looked annoyed. 'Who would dare to make such a ruckus and spoil my party?' she thought to herself, clearly not happy about the interruption. She was determined to find out what had happened and who was responsible for ruining her perfect evening.

At one of the palace rooms, Theresa's mind raced, filled with terrifying images of the palace's harsh justice. She remembered the recent executions of other maids, the brutal punishments they had suffered. Her thoughts were consumed by fear for Madeline. 'I have to find Madeline', she thought desperately. 'We have to get out of here. We have to escape'. As she tried to rise, she heard voices approaching the chamber. The commotion had attracted attention. 

The heavy oak door slammed inward with a resounding thud, the sound echoing through the grand hall and cutting short the music that had been playing just moments before. A flurry of servants, their faces etched with concern, rushed into the room, led by Emilia, the head of the household staff. Right behind Emilia, her face pale and drawn, stood Lady Beatrice.

She took a tentative step inside, her gaze drawn to the center of the room. And there, sprawled on the polished floor, was the lifeless body of her husband. A dark, crimson pool spread around him, staining the rich carpet. Beatrice gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. A strangled sob escaped her lips, quickly escalating into a piercing scream of pure, unadulterated horror. 

The sound, raw and filled with anguish, ripped through the air, carrying far beyond the open doorway and startling all the guests who were gathered just outside in the ballroom, enjoying the festivities. The joyous atmosphere shattered, replaced by a stunned silence punctuated only by Beatrice's continued cries.

The trickle of servants quickly swelled into a flood as curious partygoers, drawn by the commotion, pressed into the room. A wave of gasps rippled through the crowd, each person reacting to the gruesome scene before them. Theresa, still reeling from Beatrice's anguished cry, stammered, her voice barely a whisper, "It was an accident... an accident." The words hung in the air, swallowed by the sudden, thick silence that descended upon the room. All eyes were fixed on the tense Theresa. 

In the doorway, a figure stood observing the unfolding drama. Princess Vivienne entered the room and paused, her gaze sweeping across the room. Her sharp eyes missed nothing, taking in every detail of the scene – the body on the floor, the bloodstains, the faces of those present. Her own expression, however, remained an enigma, giving away nothing of what she was thinking.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, her commanding voice cutting through the murmurs. "You!" she shouted pointing her finger at Theresa, "What did you do?". Theresa became mute with the accusation she heard from the princess tone. Beatrice straightened, adopting an air of wounded dignity. "Your Highness, this woman killed my husband. A mere servant killed a Lord. Look at her hands and clothes!".

Vivienne's gaze shifted to Theresa, who stood tall despite the tears threatening to spill. "Is this true, servant?" "No, Your Highness," Theresa said firmly. "He lured me here under false pretenses and tried to take advantage of me. I only acted in self-defense."

The Princess looked carefully at both Theresa and Lady Beatrice, her mind racing. She knew Belvane's reputation – everyone did. Finally, she spoke. "Alright," she announced. "This isn't something we can solve here. Guards, please clean up this room. And someone, please help Lady Beatrice to a guest room. She needs to rest. I need to talk to my brother about this." Then, turning to Theresa, Vivienne said sharply, "You're coming with me."

The guards, showing no emotion, moved forward and gently escorted the weeping Lady Beatrice out of the room. "Come on," Vivienne repeated, giving Theresa a hard look. Theresa nodded, her eyes darting around the room, clearly worried. She spotted Emily, who looked like she was about to burst into tears herself, and mouthed the words, "Where's Madeline?" Emily, however, didn't get a chance to answer.

As the night went on, the ball did continue, but the happy mood was gone. Instead, whispers about what had happened spread like wildfire through the remaining guests. Everyone was talking about the scene in the other room, wondering what had really happened.