The Blood Heiress They Sent to Her Death Chapter 06
“The records show Old Marta had a daughter who vanished six years ago and Mira entered the House’s service six years ago”
Mira’s face went bloodless. She opened her mouth. My cold stare stopped her.
“Mira,” I said, my voice quiet and deadly. “You told this assembly you had no connection whatsoever to that woman.”
She crashed to her knees, grabbing at the hem of the Elder’s robe. “Father! I only hid it because I was afraid!
Yes, we share the same village, but so do ten thousand others! How does sharing a birthplace prove I am her daughter?!”
“Seraphina threw the accusation first, and I was terrified she would twist it against me -that is why I saidnothing! Father, I am your blood-truly!”
Old Marta joined her on the floor, old tears and old lies running together. “Yes, my Lord! My daughter was
lost six years ago. I have wept myself half-blind searching for her. Seraphina is a cornered beast -she would drag us both into the pit with her!”
She lifted her head and fixed me with venom. “Seraphina -do you not fear what the ancestors will do to you?!”
“Ancestors?” I could not stop the laugh that broke from me. “If the ancestors are watching, the first souls they strike down will be you two-serpents who ate at my table and sold my blood for silver.”
I turned back to the Elder. “Father.” Each word, hammered into stone. “Sharing a birthplace proves little. But there is a simpler way to prove they are mother and daughter.”
I lifted my arm and pointed at the two women cowering on the stone floor. My voice carried to every corner.
“No need to shed your sacred blood again, Father. Let THEM perform the Blood Rite. Let us see if the maidservant’s blood merges with the old nurse’s.”
Silence -absolute, ringing -crashed down on the hall. Every pair of eyes swung toward the two figures on the floor.
Mira’s face drained to dead gray. She swayed, nearly toppling. Old Marta shook like a leaf in a tempest -all her righteous fury withered into nothing. Corvin’s face had turned the color of old bone. He took one involuntary step forward, lips parting, then closing, then parting again. Nothing came out. Sweat streamed down his temples and soaked his collar.
The Blood Memory flooded with triumph. I watched them tremble and found it almost beautiful.
“Father.” I spoke again, clear and steady. “I ask you to command the Blood Rite between Mira and Old Marta. If their blood does not merge, I will walk to the Silver Cells myself, without a word. But if it DOES merge…” My gaze swept across three ashen faces. “Then everything today every charge, every accusation, every tear -is revealed as conspiracy. And the penalty for deceiving the Blood is the Final Death.”