Never allowed to leave the castle and surrounded by the evil that seeped from her father, Edana could sense her soul begin to warp, her thinking begin to change as suddenly the people who had been her childhood friends seemed unworthy of her attention. For she was a Kinnaird, and there were few worthy of her.
Tonight she felt differently. As she passed the candlelit windows, she wished she could join the people behind them. To live a simple life free from the ghosts of her father was a dream Edana had long since stopped allowing herself to hope for.
But perhaps Tormod was right and once Arran was gone, she would be free. Together she and Tormod could create the simple life she longed for. He had to be right. Her trust in him was the only thing that kept her moving closer to the castle, even as a small voice in the back of her mind told her to smash the bottle onto the ground and flee from her life here.
Arran spoke the truth when he told her that she was easily angered, but it pained her to have it stated so plainly before her. She wished she could change, but she knew she could not. Her father’s grip was tight inside her still, and words of anger and hate slipped off her tongue when words of kindness would not.
She was tired of not being the person she wanted to be. As she entered the castle and climbed the steps to her bedchamber, she vowed to herself that once Arran was gone she would put all of the past behind her and start anew.
Her bedchamber was empty as she knew it would be, but she felt uncomfortable at the unease she felt at finding it so. If Arran had somehow decided to wait for her there to speak with her, she would have been unable to take the herbal solution.
She sat the bottle down next to her bed as she undressed herself and donned her nightgown. Crawling into the bed, she propped the feather pillows up so that she could be sitting up partially in the bed. It would appear that she’d been in pain and forced to endure an early labor on her own.
Edana knew she would have to drink the contents of the bottle quickly so that she could stash it away, out of sight, before she began to bleed. Once she’d bled enough to raise alarm, she would scream for someone to come to her aide. She only hoped that it wouldn’t be too painful.
Shaking, she reached for the glass bottle, wiggling the top off so that she could smell the contents. The smell was potent, and it made her stomach churn. It smelled nothing like any herbs she’d been around, but she was uneducated in such matters. There was no reason for her to believe that the mixture was anything other than what Tormod had told her.
Pinching her nose, she touched the bottle to her lips and quickly tilted it upward. She had to swallow hard and fast to keep from immediately retching out onto the bed. Once she’d drained its contents, she bent over to place the small bottle under the bed and resumed her position, legs spread wide apart, waiting for the bleeding to begin.
At first nothing happened and, other than the foul taste in her mouth, she thought perhaps that the process would be a painless one. But just as quickly as she’d begun to hope, a pain settled deep in her belly. She opened her mouth to scream only to find that nothing would come out.
The pain spread fast. Fire seared through every inch of her body. Holes burned through every vital organ. Sounds coming out of her mouth were inhuman, quiet as if her vocal chords melted from the touch of the poison.
She glanced down between her thighs to see blood draining out of her and knew. Poison. Not the herbal mixture Tormod had promised her.
Just as quickly as the pain had begun, it stopped. Her heart beat slowly in her ears. Her limbs hung lifeless and cold. Blood drained from her as she realized the mistakes she had made.
Her father’s spirit never coaxed her to seek revenge on the Conalls. His spirit rooted for her own demise. The same black presence he’d been in her life, cheerfully led her to her death.
What a fool she’d been to believe Tormod. To believe that a man could love her and want to care for her. A man no better than her father.
The one soul who could give her all she needed was the one she was about to hurt the most.
Arran would not know that she’d done this to herself. That she’d lied. Once he found her, Edana knew Arran would blame himself and live with the guilt always. ’Twas no what he deserved. She’d been too foolish to see that before.
She took her last breath, praying that Arran would one day learn the truth.
Her prayer didn’t include herself. She got no less than she deserved. Casting aside her hopes for a new life, Edana shut her eyes as death took her.
Chapter 34
Conall Castle
We’d all expected that Baodan was going to gather me for our outing sometime in the morning, but as the day passed with no sign of him, we quickly learned that we were no as sure of his plans as we thought.