Chapter 81

Ruby

When I get back to the castle, I quickly grab a few slices of toast from the kitchen before retreating to my room to read the letters.

Thankfully, the letters are still stashed safely away underneath my mattress. As I sit down on my bed and take a bite of my breakfast before untying the bundle of letters, I’m glad that Edith didn’t find them last night when she was in my room.

The letters are old and yellowed, some wrinkled with water damage; but they’re still readable.

I unfold the first letter and begin to read.

“To M:

I’ve fallen ill. The doctor doesn’t understand my symptoms. I’ve lost contact with my wolf, and I feel weak and vulnerable. Every day my fever grows worse, and my body aches. I can barely hold my pen as I write this…

I don’t think this is any ordinary sickness. The Queen warned me of a curse last night. Could this be the curse that befell the Lycan King’s wife during the final summit when she ate the berries?

Please let me know if you have any information that pertains to this. I’m physically unfit to make the trek to your home, and the Queen and her minions are keeping a close eye on me; if it weren’t for a small handful of servants who are truly loyal to me, this letter would no doubt be intercepted.

-V”

The next letter is merely a detailed description of symptoms; nothing that I haven’t learned already.

In fact, as I read the letters, I quickly realize that they’re not presenting any new information because they’re all from Vivian’s point of view. Cursing, I toss them into the fire to destroy any evidence and start to pace around my room, chewing my lip as I think.

If Vivian destroyed the letters that Marisa sent her, then I’ll be at a loss as to what to do next; it would even possibly be a dead end. But if she saved them…

I’ll have to break into her room again to do some more searching.

Later tonight, when everyone else has gone to bed, I quietly climb out of bed and throw on my house coat. I slip my phone into my pocket to use as a flashlight when I need it, then warily crack my door open to check to make sure that the coast is clear.

The hallway outside my room is empty right now, so I take that as an opportunity to quietly shut the door behind me and quickly jog down the corridor toward Vivian’s room.

Just as I suspected, there is a guard posted at Vivian’s door. After everything that’s happened, Atwood is still keeping the room under close watch like this?

Fortunately, I recognize the guard that’s posted there right now as Mark, who is known for sleeping on duty; which is exactly what he’s doing right now. He’s sitting on a chair alongside the door with his chin resting on his chest, snoring softly.

I sneak past him on my tiptoes, holding my breath so as not to make any sound. Unfortunately, when I try the door, it’s locked.

Cursing underneath my breath, I bite my lip and look over at Mark, who snorts loudly and bobs his head up. It practically makes me jump out of my skin, but then I can relax when I realize that he hasn’t awoken yet.

“No, Sir, I don’t have the cheesecake,” he mutters in his sleep.

I have to clap my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing at the guard’s sleep-talking. Mark mutters something else as I crouch down next to him and slowly reach out for the keyring on his belt. I grasp the keyring as quietly as possible, pausing with bated breath as he moves slightly, then unhook it from his belt and stand back up.

It takes a few tries to figure out which key goes to the door, but eventually I find the right one. As a last thought, before I enter, I decide to put the keyring back on Mark’s best in case he wakes up and realizes that it’s gone.

I then quietly click the door open, slipping in and shutting it softly behind me.

Taking a sigh of relief, I pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight so I can see.

The room looks entirely untouched, aside from the sheet on Vivian’s painting, which has been put back in its place.

Starting in one corner, I slowly make my way around the room, quietly opening drawers and cupboards and checking under furniture to find nothing except for random knick-knacks and more dust bunnies. Eventually, I’ve checked around the entire room to no avail.

“Help me, Vivian,” I whisper, feeling defeated.

Just then, a gentle breeze blows into the room and ruffles the sheet on her painting. It almost feels as though she’s trying to send a message.

Checking over my shoulder one last time to make sure that Mark hasn’t woken and isn’t standing and staring angrily at me through the window, I hesitantly walk over to the painting and grasp the sheet.

With a light tug, the sheet comes loose and falls to the floor to reveal Vivian’s stoic expression staring back at me.

For a moment, I just stand there, staring back as though she’ll simply move and point to wherever the letters may be stashed… but she doesn’t, because that’s impossible.

In some strange way, however, it feels as though Vivian is trying to communicate; like her soul is trapped in the painting. I know it’s silly, but it feels real, and it feels like she’s telling me to move the painting.

I do exactly that.

I grab a chair to stand on and gently lift the painting from the wall.

Maybe I was right. Maybe Vivian is trying to communicate.

Because behind the painting, there is a hole in the wall.

And when I reach my shaking hand into that hole, my fingers brush what feels like a piece of paper. I pull it out and unfold it, and nearly jump with joy when I see that it is a letter from Marisa.

“To V:

After extensive research, I don’t believe that your symptoms are a result of any curse. The ‘curse’ that befell the Lycan King’s wife on the day of the last summit was never a curse, but rather a lethal dose of a very dangerous herb known as ‘toxic ashroot’.

The berries that the Lycan Queen ate that day were coated in an extract from this herb, with a dose so high that it killed her almost instantly.

I believe that you are being dosed with this herb in small amounts, so as to kill you slowly. I am afraid, from the sound of your symptoms, that there is already too much of the herb in your body to cure you.

I’m truly sorry for being the bearer of such bad news. If need be, I will provide you with a tincture that will help to aid in your passing. A death caused by toxic ashroot will only be full of agony.

-M”

My eyes widen with shock after reading the letter from Marisa. There was never a curse. The Bear King poisoned the Lycan Queen on the day of the last summit, and now someone was poisoning Vivian… but who?

I hear a sound come from outside the door, so I quickly place the painting back on the wall, throw the sheet over it, and shut off my flashlight just in time to see Mark stand from his chair.

Another guard walks past the door, smiling.

“Sleepin’ again, eh Mark?” the other guard says with a chuckle.

“Ah, you know,” Mark says, patting his round belly. “Had a heavy dinner.”

“You always have a heavy dinner.”

Mark and the other guard laugh and disappear from view.

Keeping low, I quickly run over to the door and peek through the window. It looks like they’ve walked off, which means that I likely have a minute or two to get far away from here before the next guard comes.

Slipping the letter into my pocket, I quietly creep out of the room and run down the hall.

As I round the last corner to my room, however, I’m met with the last person I would want to see right now: Atwood.

“Ruby? What are you doing awake?” he asks. He’s still in his work clothes, and is holding a peanut butter sandwich. He must be working late again.

My heart pounds.

“I… I couldn’t sleep,” I say nervously. “So I decided to go on a walk around the castle to tire myself out.”

Atwood takes a bite of his sandwich and chews slowly, looking at me with an expression that I can’t quite read. Does he know that I’m lying?

Suddenly, realization dawns on me as I watch him chewing his sandwich. What if Atwood was the one who was poisoning Vivian? What if he was putting the toxic ashroot in her food, and what if he’s already been doing that to me? The sandwiches that he brought to my room after Nancy and I went to Marisa’s hut could have been laced with the herb. What if he knew that we were digging around?

“Well, try to get to sleep soon,” he says with a smile. “I’ll be in my study if you need me.”

I watch Atwood walk down the corridor, my mind racing with a million thoughts.

I don’t know who I should trust in this castle.