Anthony took a deep breath, his heart racing as he prepared to read the next entry. He glanced at Edward, Anya, and Zenith, their faces still twisted in disgust from the previous passages. "Listen to this one," he said, his voice steady but urgent. "It might give us insight into one part of the Duke's horrific past."
He began to read, the words flowing from the page as he immersed himself in the Duke's chilling account.
Duke Alistair's Diary Entry
Date: September 5, 2023
Earlier today, Rosaline came to me, her face streaked with tears, a sight that would have been amusing had it not been so pathetic. She confessed to me, trembling and fearful, that she was pregnant with my child. The audacity of her claim was almost laughable. I leaned back in my chair, feigning concern, and asked her how this concerned me.
Her eyes widened in shock, and she stammered, pleading for my help. In a moment of desperation, she asked me to marry her. I couldn't help but laugh at her naivety. A nobleman such as myself could never marry a woman who had the misfortune of becoming pregnant before marriage. The very thought was absurd.
I grabbed her arms, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my fingers, and told her in no uncertain terms that she needed to take care of her condition without her father or anyone else knowing. If word got out, I would destroy them all—her, her father, and anyone who dared to cross me. The power I held over her was intoxicating, and I reveled in it.
Rosaline cried, her pleas echoing in the empty room as she begged for my help. I sighed, feigning reluctance, but deep down, I knew I had to resolve this issue before someone found out. I can handle them but the headache is not worth it. I told her I would take her to a quack tomorrow, someone who could 'fix' her predicament. The thought of her desperation was almost delightful, and I couldn't wait to see how this little drama would unfold."
As Anthony finished reading, a heavy silence fell over the room. Edward's face was pale, Anya looked horrified, and Zenith clenched her fists in anger.
"This is beyond cruel," Anya whispered, her voice trembling. "He's playing with her life."
"There's more," Anthony muttered, his eyes darkening," This man was beyond evil."
Date: September 6, 2023
Today, I took Rosaline to a dingy clinic on the far side of town, a place that reeked of desperation and decay. As we arrived, I could see the fear etched on her face; she hugged herself tightly as if trying to shield her very soul from the horrors that awaited her. She wore a tighter gown than the day before, and I couldn't help but notice the slight curve of her belly, a reminder of the burden she carried.
The quack, a disheveled man with a crooked smile and eyes that gleamed with a disturbing eagerness, quickly beckoned Rosaline to enter his clinic. She hesitated, glancing back at me, searching for reassurance. I merely pushed her inside, my expression cold and unyielding, and took my place outside the door, waiting for the inevitable.
Moments stretched into what felt like an eternity, and then I heard it—a piercing scream that echoed through the dark hallways. My heart raced, but I remained rooted in place, a silent observer of the chaos I had orchestrated. After what felt like half an hour, the quack finally emerged, his face pale and shaken.
"She bled out... The girl and her baby have passed on to a better place" he stammered, his voice trembling.
I nodded, a sense of detachment washing over me. "Dispose of her body. Throw it off a cliff where no one will find it."
YOU ARE READING
Threads Of Fate
Historical Fiction"How could this happen?" Anya wondered, her fingers pressing against her temples in a desperate attempt to quell the throbbing headache that mirrored the turmoil in her mind. She cast a wary glance around the dismal prison cell, where the other inma...
