This is dedicated to @HuntersofSkittles because, they are just so awesome :)
The Betrayal
“There are three green bottles sitting on the wall, and if one should ‘accidently’ fall, there will be two green bottles sitting on the wall.”
“Why do men get all the chances?” she thought angrily, while sitting and doing her sewing whilst her two brothers were in maths. If only she could find a way. A way to be ... appreciated. She was the firstborn after all.
“Firstborns always get everything. Don’t they?” she muttered sarcastically to herself while jabbing the embroidery needle into the material, imagining that it was her brothers’ head. “As long as they are boys anyway.”
Her eyes suddenly lit up like Christmas lights, as an idea formed in her pretty little head. Perching the, now ruined, bird on top of the Victorian style desk, she got up. Her full skirt sweeping the floor as she hurried towards the exit door.
“Madam!” a startled voice called, “You cannot leave! Your father gave strict instructions as to your morning plans!”
Evelyn turned on the heel of her, very expensive, shoes to face a very timid looking maid. A look of fury swept across Evelyn’s face. The grey of her eyes seemed darker, almost black, whenever she became angry. She often became angry.
“Well, I am so VERY sorry! I did not know that I had to listen to a simple parlour maid!” she all but shrieked at the top of her lungs while flailing her arms around to emphasise her point. With that she turned and stormed out of the room leaving an angry air in her wake.
An hour later, Evelyn was now at the door of her father’s study. The angry flush on her face refused to leave. Before knocking, she took a deep breath to calm herself.
Timidly, she knocked on the door. No answer. This time she knocked even harder. Still no answer! Curiosity led her to open the door. Opening it only a crack, she heard the chatter of her two brothers and her father. Shifting the door another crack, Evelyn could see that they were gathered around the table... talking about her younger brother who had been killed in an ‘accident’.
She edged her head around the doo, making sure that the velvet statement curtain obscured her from their view.
“Well, we cannot let mother or Evelyn find out! They are women. Weak and frail women!” her oldest brother Thomas said in almost disgust. Evelyn clenched her fist, her freshly forced manicured nails bit into the skin of her palm. From her earlier outburst, it showed that she was neither weak nor frail.
“Father, I must agree with Thomas, Evelyn and mother would never be able to bear the fact that we were the ones who had accidently shot James! Father, we cannot afford for this to be our downfall.” Her other brother, Michael, stressed.
She gasped. Astonished. Shocked. Confused. So many questions and such little time.
A ghost of a smirk touched Evelyn’s soft face.
“Does anyone need ever know?” she whispered to herself.
Looking past the curtain, she saw that they had gone back to talking about the civil war in Venice. Evelyn slithered out of the study door with a full blown smirk on her face. This was her payback. For James.
Thirty minutes later, Evelyn was strolling into the kitchen with a tiny vial, clutched lovingly to her chest. In it was a clear liquid. The light glinted off the crystaled vial, almost majestically.
All the maids turned their heads sharply as Evelyn made her appearance. The looks of surprise and astonishment all came at Evelyn like a car speeding down the lane.
