The Blood Heiress They Sent to Her Death Chapter 03
The assembly detonated. “Treason? The Blood Heiress?”
“What is impossible about it? She is not even true blood. She could be a Thornfield sleeper agent.”
“A crime of this magnitude -the Final Death would be mercy.”
My face burned scarlet, my teeth nearly cracking. “You insolent creature! You dare slander your lady? Where is your proof of this so-called treason?”
Old Marta’s body seized. She glared at me with venom and pulled a sheaf of letters from her robes, thrusting them toward the Elder. “Proof enough, my lady!”
“Seraphina has been passing intelligence to House Thornfield -troop positions, guard rotations, the very
layout of our sanctuary. She writes to their heir in her own hand. Have the scribes compare the script if you doubt it.”
The Elder’s face turned to iron as he read. The more he read, the darker it became.
“Father, I- Before I could finish, his hand cracked across my face.
“Wretched girl! This script matches yours perfectly! What words can you possibly have left?!”
I was thrown to the ground, my ears ri Auto-added to the Library link by link, that it left no seam, no crac.. e way -a trap laid with such precision,
They knew that even if they proved I was no true Bloodline, the Elder’s love for me might stay his hand. Only by adding treason to the charge could they guarantee he would destroy me completely. They wanted my death, and they wanted it absolute.
Mira watched the Elder’s fury unfold, and the triumph flickering at the corner of her mouth could not be hidden. She shaped her face into noble outrage and clutched the Elder’s arm. “Father, you have seen it. She has corrupted our Bloodline AND served our enemies. Such crimes demand the Final Death!”
As the Elder’s silence stretched, Corvin stepped forward and dropped to one knee with the gravity of a loyal lord. “My Lord! House Thornfield has warred against us for centuries. Our dead number beyond counting. And this woman – he pointed at me with theatrical fury -“has sold us to them. I, your sworn servant, beg you -for the survival of the Night Court -grant her the Final Death.”
“Corvin…” My body shook. My nails carved crescents into my palms. “What have I ever done to you, that you would stop at nothing to see me dead?!”
He gazed at me with the serenity of a saint. “Offense? None. I am merely a servant of the Blood, loyal to my Lord, delivering justice to traitors.”
The Blood Memory exploded. [he has coveted the Night Court for years -he plans to raise Mira as his puppet heir and slaughter the entire Blackthorn bloodline!]
I wiped the blood from my lip and forced the fire in my chest down to embers. “Father…” My voice was raw. “Let me speak one more word. Everything today the Blood Rite, the treason letters -it is all a construct. Look closer and you will see the cracks.”
Corvin’s brow furrowed. He moved to cut me off, but the Elder raised one hand -silence. He gestured for me to continue.
“Does it not feel… too smooth?” I kept my voice level. “Mira accuses. The Rite fails. Old Marta suddenly produces treason letters. Each link clicks into place like a rehearsed ritual. As though someone wrote the script before I ever walked in?”
The Elder paused. The wildfire in his eyes dimmed -just slightly -and something colder, more calculating, flickered beneath.
I pressed harder. “And those letters -the Night Court holds countless scribes and forgers. Anyone with the skill could copy my hand. How can we know Old Marta did not commission those forgeries herself to destroy me?”
Old Marta opened her mouth, her face twisting with panic. I spun and struck her across the face before she could speak. “SILENCE! When the true blood speaks, the servant holds her tongue!”
She crumpled with a shriek, temporarily silenced. I turned back to the Elder. “Father -I swear on my mother’s
memory: I am your blood. I have never committed treason against this House. Give me one more Rite, with fresh water drawn by your own hand, and I will prove it. If the blood still fails to merge -I will walk to the Final
Death myself, without complaint.”
As the Blood Memory predicted, Corvin’s composure cracked. His eyes darted. Sweat beaded at his temple.
The Elder, whose nature was caution and suspicion above all, would grant me this.
He drew breath to speak. “Very well. I will trust you once more. Summon-
“HOLD!”
Corvin could contain himself no longer. He surged forward. “My Lord, you cannot! Your blood is the sacred
life-force of this House -you have already shed it twice for this impostor! She is stalling for time -you must see it -she means to slip free in the delay!”