Painted Roses

Requests of Enchantment

"Where is Braydon?"

Rosalia took three steps backwards and looked around. There were doors out to balconies from this room but the balconies didn't go anywhere. She was trapped so long as Lucinda was between her and the door.

She could call for help, Beldon was across the hall but Luka needed him at that moment and he might not hear anything over the noise of the party.

"Rosalia!" Lucinda snarled. "Where is Braydon?"

"Gone!" Rosalia snarled back, "He's gone. And I do not know if he is coming back."

"What have you done?" Lucinda cried, "You said before he could die! How? Why?! What did you do?"

"Me?" Rosalia said, outraged, "I did nothing. Braydon made his choice and you were the cause."

"How dare you!"

Rosalia stared at her. "Do you really not understand what you've put him through? All these years of torment, before and after he became cursed, and you are surprised to discover he wants to die? How long do you expect a man to desire life when he has already missed a lifetime?"

"Braydon would not do such a thing! Not to me!"

"Lucinda!" Rosalia snapped and Lucinda looked at her. "I fear Braydon would do far worse to you if he were a crueller man. One should perhaps be grateful that he is choosing to end his own life over yours!"

"But this isn't my fault!"

Rosalia gaped at Lucinda, stepped back against the arm of one chairs and sitting back against it, staring at her. "Not your fault?" she whispered, "Not your fault? You, who placed the curse upon Braydon, you claim it is not your fault? You, who has driven him into this corner, you claim it is not your fault?"

"Do not talk as if you know everything," Lucinda snarled, taking a step forwards, "You understand nothing!"

"You took everything from him," Rosalia said, "His first fiancée, his crown, kingdom, family, pride – even his own body – you took everything with no way out other then by your leave and you... you say it is not your fault."

"I told you, you don't understand," Lucinda growled, walking around Rosalia and taking a seat on one of the armchairs.

Rosalia shot to her feet, turning to the door and a pain stopped her.

No, more then just stopped her.

It crippled her.

In a single second, she was on the floor, gripping her head, pain greater then anything she had ever felt before exploding through her mind, shattering her thoughts, her understanding, her very ability to think. It went beyond anything natural. She couldn't even form the mental connections needed to start screaming. Her throat closed up, her stomach reeled. Her blood turned cold and her mind felt like it was being ripped apart strand by strand.

And then it was gone.

It faded, nothing more then a phantom of a memory then nothing at all.

It didn't even last five seconds but she collapsed, gasping for breath, trembling violently, eyes wide, tears streaming into the carpet.

"I'm not finished talking, Rosalia," Lucinda said from where she remained seated.

"Is that what you did to him?" Rosalia choked out, eyes flicking to the side as she looked across at Lucinda. "Is that what you put him through, day after day? That kind of torment? And you are surprised to learn that he does not want to be with you?"