The Villainess Doesn't Want to Deal With This Shit

Chapter 7- The Malicious Marquis and the Ruthless Child

"Cole, where is the Marquis?" My mother asked as she led all of us in a brisk march to my father's office. Marcus was left with Aunt Alexandra, still blissfully asleep.

My father looked up, surprised by the use of his name, before taking in all of our expressions with confusion. "He stepped out to use the restroom. Why?"

"Find him." I whispered to Ruger, a sense of unease boiling low in my stomach. The dog darted off at top speed, while I stayed with the group of adults, safe and insulated while they talked over my head. My mother explained my... slight fib to my father. I had told them that Marcus had confided in me that the Marquis (whose name I never actually bothered to catch, now that I think about it) had told him about the trafficking ring and that Marcus was expected to take over the 'family business' someday.

My grandmother was fuming, but was gently petting my hair in a comforting manner even as she demanded answers from my father.

He was adamant that the Marquis had never talked to him about the ring, and if he had, my father would have blown the whistle immediately, possible damage to our family be damned.

I had some plans knocking around as to how to keep the backlash from affecting us, even though we had close ties with the Marquis due to marriage. I had no idea how to pose them to my father in a way he would take me seriously, though. Who takes political advice from a 6 year old?

I sighed, and my grandmother looked down at me with concern.

"Why don't you go rest in your room, Lessy? This must all be very tiring for you." She said. I nodded, and slipped away from the commotion.

Walking along the halls of the house, it occurred to me Ruger hadn't returned. I passed the bathroom closest to the office and noted with growing panic that it was empty.

Did the Marquis somehow learn that he had been found out?

The bottom of my stomach dropped even as I felt a pull on the bond that Ruger and I shared. In the direction of my mother's parlor.

Marcus.

Running in a skirt was not easy.

As I ran up to the door that led to my mother's parlour, I could hear yelling. Ruger stood outside the closed door, his hackles raised menacingly.

"-What did you tell them, you stupid slut?!" That was the Marquis' voice.

"Stay away from us! Get back!" Aunt Alexandra was screaming even as I threw open the door. They weren't in the main parlour, but the table was upended and the treats mother had set up were scattered in a mess of shards from the tea set. I moved carefully over the mess to the side door.

The Marquis had his back turned towards from the door, moving with slow menace towards the opposite corner. Beyond his bulk I could see Aunt Alexandra and Marcus cowering there, the woman covering the boy with her body. Her dress was torn, and there was blood coming from a wound on her face.

Her expression held nothing but defiance, though.

The Marquis raised his hand, but he could not bring it down on them. It was caught roughly by a thorny vine. Blizzard's eyes glowed yellow as I called for Control.

"What?!" The Marquis shouted, even as a mass of vines sprouted from the carpet beneath his feet to wrap around his thick ankles, rooting him to the place.

"You dare raise a hand to my family?!" I roared at him as he struggled in my hold. He craned his neck to see me standing in the doorway.

"This has nothing to do with you, insolent brat!" He growled, his struggles getting stronger. He cried out in pain when the thorns on the vines grew longer, digging their hold deeper into his skin. Blood began dripping from some of the wounds they created.