Taste of Poison

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Taste of Poison

Prelude.

i. epigraph

❝ her rebirth was stunning,

she lifted herself up from

the depths of despair,

grasped her dreams,

embedded them in her heart,

and walked forward into

a future that only her will

and vision could control. ❞

-yung pueblo

ii. introduction.

Everyone was out to get her.

Roseanne felt her body shiver, as if aware that she was in grave danger.

Every eye that glance at her, even bodies that would collide with hers. Everyone is suspicious in her eyes. Nobody here knew of her—at least, in a good light. Not anyone of these people would believe that she was only here to save her son. She did not want a crown or riches, nor anything that they all thought she would.

Nobody knew her enough here.

She just wanted to save him.

Through the years that the woman had suffered all on her own, she had never thought that this would be the night where her fears spiked larger than most. She had nightmares about what she had run away from, but not once did she think that it would happen this soon. From the news that she had been gathering about the royal family’s assassination, everything seemed ridiculous.

Alistair, the new King and the one who had slayed the Royal Family—is her son. Her small bundle of joy, that child who always offered her kind smiles, had killed someone?

She almost did not want to believe it.

But she had seen it happen. From the rise of Alistair’s own knights and the hanging head of the late King outside the palace walls—it was obvious that Alistair had harmed someone. Not just anyone, but the Royal Family.

“Everyone spread out and look for her, quickly!”

Roseanne paused as she heard the commanding voice of the commander, lowering herself down as she held her mouth quite tightly, quivering at the pacing of the knights that passed her. With the hope to stop her son, she had made the grave mistake of coming to the palace.

Almost too quickly, she was spotted by the Knights.

And before she was aware, she had become number one on the wanted list.

“Rose? Are you here?” She heard a call, trembling as she walked to the side of her friend. Relief passed through her shoulder as she hugged her; the weight of her heart had grown light now that she was with someone she knew would be there for her. Magenta had always been by her side after she was banished, and to have her rely on times like this was giving her something to hold on to. “You look terrible. What had happened to you?” Magenta whispered, tucking her loose hair to the back of her ear.

Rose shook her head, terrified of what is happening before her. “We needed to get out of here, Magenta.”

The panic in her voice was apparent as she wanted to do nothing but escape from the very place she had hidden. But, even if it had provided her solace in those small minutes, it was not that reliable in long hours. The knights would surely spot her soon enough. What struck her as weird was that Magenta seemed recalcitrant, like she was unwilling to bring her to any other place. The look on her face was still kind of like always, but the tears fall from Roseanne’s eyes.

“No…” she sobbed, shaking her head as she tried to get away from her grasp.

Like Magenta wanted to prove something, she had securely grasped the arm of Roseanne. The fear in her body was enormous, as she knew that her friend had ratted her out. She was shaking, wanting to pull herself from the woman, but Magenta was built larger than her. For years and ends, she had worked for this woman. All the support she had offered her was immense, and Magenta was looking at her as if she was nothing.

“How could you?” Roseanne cried, feeling weak through every betrayal that she had faced.

Magenta did not even blink as she replied. “They offered a lot of gold for you, Roseanne. You must know that this is something that I can never look away from.”

Again, she was swapped all because of gold.

How can people think like this?

She could feel her knees trembling, but she never had the luxury to continue her plan to escape from this place that haunted her since she was young. Instead, her body shuddered in fear, dreading nothing most that it was her kindness that had put her in this position.

Not too long, synchronized steps had gathered before her. She could no longer escape, as she was covered with high-level knights. Magenta stood there in triumph, holding out her hand to grab her own piece of gold. From the second it was given to her hand, Roseanne was disposed of like normal.

Used and treated like nothing.

As she always has.

“You there,” She heard a call and looked back to see a familiar knight.

Dressed in that same black attire, she was greeted by the same knight that was assigned to look after her. But that was back then. When she still resides in the Grand Duke’s mansion. Knowing that she had nowhere to run, she offered her hand to them, admitting her defeat. There was no use pretending like she could have another chance in her life. From the second she was born, it felt like people wanted to ruin her.

Walking back to the palace, people were whispering about her.

Nasty things were always in her ears from the second she was banished. Now that she no longer has the Grand Duke to protect her, people would always have everything to say to her. Everyone was horrified by how she had become, but her appearance was the least of her worries.

Back then, she had heard whispers of gossip about her. However, it did not take long for her to realize that everything she told about herself was lies spread by her own sister. People believed that Roseanne had the power to control Alistair, that she would be the very demise of the Kingdom, but she had rarely spent any time with the kid.

Besides that, she was shunned in the mansion because she was framed for assassinating him.

There was no way that she would be the child’s weakness.

She was being killed, nothing more.

“Your majesty.” The knight called; her head was still bowed.

Tears were leaking from her eyes as they called to who she was before the very person who had blindly killed the King. Her mind was begging the heavens to save her, but she knew that they never had to listen to her cries. Finally, pushed back down, she was forced to kneel to her son—the one holding her life by this point.

Alistair stand from his throne, and she could see the blood that still stains his shirt. Crimson covered his clothes like accessories, as his sword had never left his side. His eyes were dead, and the man didn’t look like the child that used to smile at her. Stopping next to her, his hand gently hold a section of her hair, as if checking.

“This is not my mother,” he says, and she flinched with the coldness of his voice. The hold that was once gentle grew rough, making her squeak. “So what are you useless mutts blabbering about?”

His voice was now thick, not the same one who had affectionately called her. Then, using his feet, he lifted the woman’s face. It seemed like he never wanted even an inch of his skin touching hers.

Roseanne did not even recognize the man before her. While he looked like a complete image of his father, his face looked haunted rather than his father’s cold demeanor. Was this all because of her flaw in providing him with the care that he needed?

“For the count of being a fraud, I should kill you before everyone else. The King should never have a weakness, after all.” Alistair muttered, dead in the eyes.

She knew what he wanted, but she was too dead to give them that. Roseanne was unwilling to beg for forgiveness and cry as she normally does; she closed her eyes. For the years of her explaining herself, nobody had ever believed her. More than anything else, she was ready to die.

Alistar grinned, wielding his sword and effectively killing the woman. She had fallen from the ground and still has a few seconds before she was pronounced dead. Roseanne looked over the light before her eyes, wondering why she had to suffer all her life.

But now, she was finally happy.

—for she was dead.