Chapter 497:
“You want this?” Aurora asked, holding it up.
“Yes! Give it to me!”
Aurora snapped the ampoule in half. The liquid dripped onto the floor, hissing as it reacted with the wood.
“Oops,” Aurora said, deadpan. “Clumsy me.”
She turned to the shopkeeper, who was peeking out from behind the register with wide eyes.
“I need Capsaicin concentrate and synthesized Aconite. And I’ll pay for the damages.” She slapped a black credit card on the counter—Elias’s card. He wouldn’t mind.
The shopkeeper hurriedly retrieved a small red vial. “Take it. Just take it and go. Please.”
Aurora took the vial. She leaned close to Zelda, who was trembling with rage and fear.
“Tell the Dowager I’m coming,” Aurora whispered. “And tell her to keep the bed warm in prison.”
Aurora walked out, the bell chiming cheerfully behind her.
Zelda returned to the Ziegler Estate in a fury. She stormed through the main hall, ignoring the servants who scattered like frightened birds.
She went straight to the basement.
The air was cold. Seraphina lay on a cot in the corner, staring at the wall. The drugs made her mind feel like it was wading through molasses.
Zelda kicked the cot.
“Wake up, you useless cow!” Zelda screamed. She needed to hurt someone. She needed to feel powerful again after being humiliated in the shop.
Seraphina curled into a ball, protecting her head. It was a reflex honed over twenty years.
𝗧𝗿𝘂𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 gⱯ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝗍𝖊𝗅𝘀．ⅽ𝗼𝗺
“Your little savior,” Zelda panted, grabbing a riding crop from the wall. “That girl. Aurora. She thinks she’s so tough.”
Whack. The crop hit Seraphina’s shoulder.
“Aurora,” Seraphina whispered. The pain sharpened her focus.
“Yes! Aurora!” Zelda hit her again. “That trash from America. She destroyed my serum! She thinks she can take you? She’s going to die. Just like you should have!”
Whack.
“My… daughter,” Seraphina mumbled. The word felt foreign, yet right.
Zelda stopped mid-swing. She laughed. A cruel, high-pitched sound.
“Daughter? You think you have a daughter? You’re a barren, crazy mule!” Zelda leaned down, her face twisted. “But yes. She is your daughter. And do you know what we’re going to do to her? We’re going to feed her to the garden. Just like we did to your husband’s letters.”
Seraphina’s eyes snapped open. The fog lifted, just for a second.
Husband. Letters. Sebastian.
“Sebastian wrote?” Seraphina asked, her voice clear.
Zelda realized she had said too much. But she didn’t care.
“Every month for five years. We burned them all. Watching the ashes was the highlight of my childhood.”
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