779 Riches to rag- Part 2

"He must have lied. Every person is involved with Calhoun. Do you see why I told you cannot go to the castle? This is what he wants, he wants us to suffer."

"But I didn't do anything!" whined Sophie. The humiliation she felt right now with people who were much lower than her in position, staring at her as if she were beneath them annoyed her.

Rosamund pulled Sophie to the other side of the market to sit where there was less crowd so that she could tend to her daughter's lip. "I will try to fix this, Sophie," she assured the young vampiress. "I will make this wrong right."

Sophie shook her head, closing her eyes before looking up at her mother, "No, it won't. It has been weeks, but it feels like years have passed. This was not how I grew up! Markus was the one who created treason, and you didn't do anything either. Did you mother?" she questioned.

Rosamund didn't reply to her daughter, and she stared at the ground that was covered in dust. She had been desperate to get hold of the throne, so desperate that she didn't see the path that had been waiting for her.

Years ago, when Constance had entered her brother's life, she had gone to visit a soothsayer to know her future, if she would be able to get the throne and how to get it.

The soothsayer had used his seven sticks that had engraved markings on them, throwing them in the bowl before giving her a read. He had said,

'Be careful with the girl who has entered the castle. She will be the reason for your downfall. If there is anyone who will stop you from holding the throne and the crown, it is her.'

She had questioned, 'Do you think she will be less of a problem, if I send her away from my brother?'

'It is hard to say. Her magnetic power is high and your brother seems to have fallen too hard for her. I see that she will play an important role in your life and she will be the reason that will keep you away from what you want,' stated the soothsayer while staring at the bowl.

Rosamund had thought hard about it before saying, 'Do you know anything that might reduce the magnetic power and also kill her without being caught?' All she had cared about was the crown on her head. She was born for it, and her brother was doing a terrible job with it when she could do much better.

'There's a cursed jewel that once belonged to a cursed Queen. You must have heard the story of Queen Hanima. Offer her one of the jewels and see to it that she wears it, the process is slow but the result will be fruitful,' the soothsayer had shown her a way to get rid of the girl who had bewitched her brother.

The marketplace she was in was familiar to her. She had been here before when she had pushed Constance into a corner, making her beg for food and sending people to trouble and thrash her.

'Please stop it!' Constance had pleaded with one of the women who caught hold of the back of her head. 'Please!'

'You pushed me and behaved as if you didn't do anything. You think we don't know who you are?!' the woman next to Constance glared before pushing her towards one of the front shops to only be scolded.

'I didn't mean to, forgive me!' Constance bowed her head while holding both her hands together.

One of her men had come to stand next to her and asked, 'Lady Rosamund, what else would you like us to do?'

'Make sure she doesn't come anywhere near the castle and see to it that no one offers her any work. People who offer her work will have to face the King's wrath,' said Rosamund. 'I want to see how she will survive.'

historical

As the memory passed by her mind, at that time, Rosamund didn't know Constance had already conceived Calhoun. She had no idea, which was why twenty years ago, when her brother had brought Calhoun to the castle, seeing the boy exist had been a slap to her face.

'I asked you to keep me reported! When was he born?! This can't be true,' Rosamund had glared at the person who worked for her and her mother.

'It might be another man's child, Rosa. You worry for nothing. Laurence is only trying to cling to anything possible that will keep the throne safe to himself,' her mother, the then Queen, had tried to calm herself.

The minister in the room bowed his head and said, 'Milady, Calhoun is King Laurence and Constance's son. I have verified it. He was born seven or eight months after she left the castle.'

Rosamund couldn't believe that the soothsayers' words had come to be true. She had worked so hard to keep her position in the court, to overthrow her brother so that she could be the Queen. Instead, time had stopped favouring her. It was as if the time of her bad luck had started to tick the moment she had met Constance in the castle for the first time.

She and her daughter had been placed in a place where they had never imagined it to be. And suddenly, a carriage that was moving from one side to another, its wheel hit the puddle of water to splash it on her and Sophie.

"Can't you see where you are going!" Sophie yelled in irritation, but when the carriage started to pull over, Rosamund cursed under her breath.

She caught hold of her daughter's hand and pulled her in the opposite direction so that they didn't have to deal with the coachman.

"How many times did I tell you that you cannot go yelling at people! There's no one to save us, get that in your empty brain!" Rosamund scolded her daughter while continuing to drag her away from there.

"I am hungry, mother. I haven't eaten anything since the last two days. I am thirsty and with the guards who follow us wherever we go, it doesn't make it easy," complained Sophie.

Sophie's fangs ached in need to want to have some blood in her body, but the last time she had tried to drink blood from a human on finding the person alone, she had not only been caught by people but also slapped for nearly killing the person.

"I will find a way for it tonight," Rosamund assured Sophie, placing her hand on her daughter's back to comfort her.

"Mama, look there," whispered Sophie, staring straight ahead. When Rosamund turned, she noticed it was her niece Lucy and Madeline, who were walking on the other side of the village road.