The Atonement of a Writer

5. Trust and Betrayal

"I should've trusted you." He ducked his head. "I'm sorry."

"You were not under the obligation to do so," she answered. "I understand."

"I...am glad I chose to believe you, in the end."

That surprised a laugh out of her. "Of course you did," she answered brightly, "I always knew you would."

"How?" He looked at her in amazement.

She stared straight at him with her vibrant, smiling eyes. She wished she could save this moment--the setting sun behind him, his whole body glowing ethereally, the intensity of his gaze.

"Because it's what I admire about you. You always see the best in people." She leaned in, their noses almost touching. "You will make a great king one day."

~*~

Colette Lamoreux left the party feeling satisfied.

She, of course, hadn't expected the poison attempt to work. Especially since it was his drink that was poisoned, and not his food. It was but a toe in the water. A test.

It was after much deliberation that she decided to use the Dumont girl as a scapegoat. Honestly, it wasn't so much as the fact that her purple eyes disturbed her. She had heard whispers within the royal palace walls--about the family that had always produced high-tiered mages. From what she gathered in overheard lessons she was never allowed to partake in, plus a little research herself, the Dumonts were nothing but a wild card. She hated unpredictability the most among all things.

The servant had, under her orders, pinned the blame on Dumont. Of course, that didn't mean Colette's work was done; she had to get rid of him, the puppet master cutting the string. Without the string, the puppet would not be able to move on its own, and with so many puppet masters and hanging strings in the palace, no one would be able to tell from where the string was cut. In other words, it was untraceable. The Dumont still had a chance to reverse the situation, but that servant had none.

Life in the royal palace was nothing but a tangle of strings. The servant was just one of the many puppets on this stage--the factions, the existence that was openly denied but bound them all, grabbed all the strings by hand and fisted them like a toddler would, until nothing but a clean cut could untangle them.

Her thoughts drifted to her brother. Her stupid, naive older brother. She had played her part as the attentive, kind and caring younger sister, the demure woman who would do anything for her brother.

At last, it was bearing fruit.

She would be the last person anyone suspected, because everyone thought they had the best sibling relationship, including Clovis. Nobody would ever know, until the last possible moment, that she hated him with every fiber of her being.

That hate was what kept Colette going. She lived and breathed it; without it, she was nothing. The fiery hate inside her simmered beneath her bones, and helped her continue playing her part in this corrupted, misogynistic society hidden under the lies about power. She hated that everything went so well for Clovis--but for her, she would forever be stuck as a princess. There was no easy way forward, or even backwards for her. She had mana--more than Clovis, even, but she was always put second. She knew she was smarter than him, but brains in a woman hardly mattered, no matter what people might preach.

No matter what people said, Clovis was not fit to be king. He trusted too easily, and he lacked the wisdom to lead a country. With that dense brain of his, he would most likely bring the country to ruin. She was the one with more mana. She was the one with fire. She was the one with brains. So why was he always the one put above her by the merits of being born different?

The close-minded, superstitious old men were even willing to break the tradition of having a fire elementalist ruler for him.

Thinking of those innocent eyes made her want to crush him even more. Her veins thrummed with anticipation at the thought of the look on his face when he finally realized it'd been her all along.

Colette would not deny that Clovis had his heart in the right place. But she had learned that the heart had no place in the royal palace a long time ago.

His heart would be his undoing.

Turning a corner, Colette arrived at her destination: her brother's room. Steeling herself, mask sliding back into place, she knocked.

"Come in."

She opened the door to find not only Clovis, but also Killian Soule inside. She was not the least bit surprised--everybody knew he and Dumont were childhood friends.

In the end, he was just another lovesick fool.

"Brother. Killian," she greeted.

Soule quickly rose to his feet and bowed. "Your Highness. I shall not disturb Your Highnesses and take my leave, then."

Clovis nodded in his direction. Colette didn't speak until he was out of range. Something about Soule had always rubbed her the wrong way, but she couldn't quite tell what it was.

"Colette," Clovis rose to his feet. "How are you feeling?"

She gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, of course. What about you?"

He just sighed. "Killian..."

"What was he doing?"

"He wants me to release her."

"They are childhood friends," she touched him gently on the shoulder. "It is natural."

He plopped back into his seat and put his head in his hands with a groan. She sat down next to him and waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts. Honestly, he was acting like this was the first time someone tried to assassinate him. All those other times, she was not directly involved, but subtly encouraged the assassinations. And all those other times, he had quickly gotten rid of the perpetrators--the puppets. Slightly irritated, she wondered what it was that kept him from doing it now.

"What do you think?" He finally asked. He turned to her with pleading eyes. "Help me. Who do I believe?"

"That's up to you, I'm afraid," she answered. "What's stopping you from prosecuting the girl like you did everyone else?"

"I trust Killian," he answered simply. Colette almost rolled her eyes. Why didn't they just marry each other already? Actually, if they married, she wouldn't have to go through the trouble of killing him on her way to the throne. He would be getting rid of himself.

"How much do you trust him?" She asked. Really, he was making this easy for her. "Remember, the foundation of betrayal is trust."

Clovis looked even more confused. Oh well. It actually didn't really matter to her whether the Dumont girl died or not--she had plenty more ways to get rid of her when the time needed. Dumont might actually turn out to be useful later.

Leaning towards him, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Think about it. I'm going to retire for now."

"Rest well," he replied absent-mindedly.

"You too." She closed the door with a thud. She had done her part of the caring sister. Rather than wasting more time here, she needed to plan. Plans that didn't involve the old geezers who used the same methods over and over again trying to kill a prince who rarely used his head.

Now that Colette had dipped a finger in, she wanted more. This was exhilarating, she thought. Now that she'd had a taste, she wanted more.

She was so done with the flimsy attempts at poisoning and mediocre assassins. She had to plan something big--she'd bided her time for long enough. Now was the perfect time to act. Him reaching the marriageable age would only complicate things for her in the future. Her parents were getting old, and would die soon without any interference from her. If Clovis died now, they wouldn't be able to have another child anyway.

After everything was done, she would show them. She would show them all.