The Marchioness' Rage

The following is a list of all topics in this story that may be disturbing. Paranoia, blood, gore, mutilation, religious delusions and torture. 

A scholar once wrote that love is destined by the Gods, a force that reshapes one's very essence. This rang true for me. My husband was made for me, my sole reason for existing.

After our marriage, I devoted myself to him. My only goal was to consume his thoughts, to intertwine my love so deeply into his soul that no space remained for another.

But he did not share my devotion.

‘Replace me? After all I’ve done?’ 

‘He will feel my love. But first, he will suffer.’

‘He must repent.’

I chuckle, strolling down the empty corridor as the wind howls like distant screams. The sound thrills me, making my heart race. I twirl, admiring the gilded paintings I had so carefully curated. 

Humming a nursery rhyme, I reach my destination. “Oh, there thou art!” I giggle, beaming at the man sprawled on the floor. “My dearest~”

He trembles, emerald eyes once fierce now brimming with terror. “W-why dost thou grip that knife tightly?” He crawls backward, dragging his wounded legs. “M-my love, why art thou doing this?”

I glance at the blood-soaked blade. “My dear!” I gasp. “I hadn’t noticed how deeply I had stabbed thou!” Watching the crimson drip, my shock melts into fascination. “Why were thou embracing that servant tightly, hmm?” I turn to him, finding him cowering behind the desk. 

“I-I know not what thou speak of!” He stammers, fumbling for cover. “Thou art the only one in my heart!”

My eye twitches. Falsified blabber. This great warrior now mewls like a lost kitten. The apothecary deserves high praise for such a fine poison.

“Is that right?” I trace the desk’s edge before slamming my palms down, his gasp, music to my ears. “Do thou remember swearing the world to me?”

“Of course! I have given thee everything—please, do not do something thou will regret!”

His pleas fade into white noise as my mind drifts back to that fateful day.

I am pulled from my thoughts as my husband scurries out of the office. "Oh? So thy legs do work. Interesting." I chuckle, following the trail of blood he leaves behind. "I should have added more paralytic to thy tea…"

Peeking into the corridor, I spot him limping toward the East Tower. "Oh no~ Thou mustn’t go that way. Thou will ruin thy surprise." I hum, granting him a head start—it’s only fair, considering I was the one who stabbed him at dinner. Skipping, I sigh. "Though, I should thank thee for sparing me the trouble of dragging thou up all those stairs. Ever so thoughtful, my love."

"Someone must be here!" His voice trembles against the stone walls. "I beg of thee—no more!"

"Hmm, but I thought thou did nothing wrong?" I tease, relishing the sound of his stumbling. A harsh thud follows. I lean against the banister, tracing the fresh blood staining the steps.

"Please." His voice is but a whimper now.

"Thou does know," I call, my voice curling through the stairwell. Lifting my dress, I tsk. "Alice had just cleansed these stairs. Sparkling, they were. Now look at them—so soon ruined." The knife scrapes against stone as I ascend, the shrill sound delighting me. "I do wonder, will she be honored to clean after the great Marquess of Costraria? The mighty lord who fought so bravely, ruled so justly, and treated his servants… Tenderly?"

At the tower's peak, I find only emptiness. The blood trail winds down the breezy corridor, beckoning me forward. Rain lashes against the windows, the storm howling through the estate. I pause, watching the trees thrash against the wind.

‘Even the Gods weep for thee, my love.’

As I open my eyes, I am gazing at the leaves of my grandfather’s great willow. My father told me it was a gift he gave his wife, declaring his undying love for her. He claimed that as the sapling grew, so did his desire for her. Decades later it still stands as a symbol of true love for the youths to come. At this time, I was lounging under it, as it created a massive shadow from its size. My head is nested on the young lord’s lap as I gaze up at him. His chocolate colored hair blew with the leaves as he looked at me with a saddened expression. As I reach up to comfort him, he grasps my hand in both of his. I raise my eyebrow in confusion.

“What seems to be the issue, my lord?” I ask as I place my hand gently on our intertwined fingers. “I have never seen thou with such a brooding expression.”

“I am afraid this will be the last time we see each other like this.” He sits there silently for a moment, only intensifying my concern. “The duke has summoned me to the battlefield.”

“Thou mustn’t go!” I yell as I sit up. I felt my emotions swell inside of me as he gazed back, responsibility fueling his resolve. “I will be left to my loneliness…” 

“Many men are dying on the battlefield as I lounge with thou.” He brings my hand to his lips and gives it a small peck. “Tis my duty as a knight.”

“What about me?” I yawped as the tears I was dueling with cloud my vision. “I thought thy duty was protecting me!” 

“Tis is, my dear!” He says as he pulls me close, rubbing the small of my back. “If I can end this war, I can prove myself to this Kingdom. After I achieve this great accomplishment, a part of this Kingdom will be ours.”

“I do not need my own Kingdom! I only need thou to be safe!” I bury my face into his chest. “I will be overtaken by grief if thou do not return.”

Suddenly he pulls out a small, pink flower from his pocket. “As is custom, I bestow upon thou a clipping of an alyssum I hand picked for thou.” He braids the stim into my hair. “Please wear this until I return. Let everyone know thou are mine.”

“Of course, my dear Leonard” I am overcome with joy as I throw myself into his arms. “I am thys and thys only.”

As lightning struck, I was pulled from my memories. Thunder rolled through the halls.

"Did thou know, that the alyssum is a symbol of madness?" I traced my blade along the brick as I strode forward, my voice laced with amusement. "Tis also known as madwort. Perhaps thou could predict the future?" I grinned as his gasp echoed. 'Ah, he found my surprise.' "If that were true, we wouldn't be here now," I mused, my steps slow, savoring the moment. I entered the chamber, where Leonard cowered on the floor, his eyes locked on my handiwork. Disgust twisted his features—so beautifully familiar.

"H-How could thou do something so devilish?"

I chuckled, admiring my masterpiece—a woman, her body carved with precision. "The devil works hard, my love," I whispered, kneeling behind him. He stiffened as I wrapped my arms around his neck. "But I work harder…” My lips brushed his ear, my teeth grazing his skin. “Because I love thou~"

"T-Thy graces, please!" A trembling voice interrupted.

I turned to her, the pathetic creature bound to the wall. Her golden hair, now crimson-streaked, clung to her tear-stained face. Only one eye remained unsewn, darting frantically.

"Ready to confess?" I cooed.

"Please, m’lady… forgive me," 

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Leonard insists nothing happened between thou. So, which is it?"

"I confess!" she screamed, voice shrill enough to pierce the heavens.

"Inside voices," I chided, yanking the chain around her neck until our faces were inches apart. Her breath came in ragged gasps. "Remember what I said last time?" I murmured, releasing her with a look of disdain. "Use thy manners."

“M-my apologies, thy grace.” She shudders, chains rattling like wind chimes.

I step closer, tilting my head. “So, dost thou confess to seducing my husband? Or was it a figment of my madness?”

“I did not seduce him! His grace used his authority against me!” she cries, voice piercing the air. My head throbs. “I wanted to refuse, but t’was my duty to serve…”

“Amelia!” Leonard gasps, reaching for her. “I gave thou everything!”

Rage boils in my veins. ‘He admits it.’ I inhale deeply, steadying my pulse. When the ringing in my ears subsides, I catch Amelia’s gaze—disgust shadowing her bruised face.

“All I wanted was a life void of worries,” she mutters. “My lord promised me the world, so long as I pleased him…” Her battered eye locks onto mine, defiant. “We were both fooled, my lady. Please, forgive me.”

I grip my chest, forcing breath into my lungs. He promised her the world? My blood turns molten.

“He does not value us!” 

‘Us?’ My grip tightens on her filthy hair, yanking her up. “Thou had my husband wrapped around thy scrawny fingers, yet push all blame onto him? Equate thyself to me?” I scoff, pressing my blade to her lips. “I am his wife! The Marchioness! Thou art but filth beneath his heel.” My fingers twitch around the hilt. ‘Breathe.’ “If thou truly loathed his advances, why accept his gifts?”

“Please!” Leonard’s voice cracks. “She doesn’t deserve this!”

‘She doesn’t deserve this?’ My world fractures. ‘Thou would beg for her?’ All color fades—save for the crimson splattered before me.

I tremble. Her mouth moves, yet an agonizing ringing drowns her words.

Then—warmth sprays my cheek.

As the ringing fades, it is replaced by Amelia's ear-splitting screams. She writhes beneath me, her chains rattling violently. When my vision clears, I see my dagger buried deep in her shoulder, its golden hilt pressing against her. I yank it out, feeling the scrape of metal against bone. More hot blood splashes onto my cheeks, mixing with the encrusted crimson of my husband's.

"Oh no!" The realization hits me—I have tainted this wretch with Leonard’s essence. His divine blood now courses through her veins, binding them in a way I never could. A sharp pain grips my chest. ‘There is nothing closer than blood...’

The storm rages outside, mirroring my turmoil. ‘Even terror can forge unity.’ Leonard’s desperate screams for her, despite her betrayal, echo in my mind. ‘Does he not see my love? After all I have endured for us?’ The wind howls, drowning my thoughts—until I hear it. A faint snap. A warmth spreads through me, light as a feather. ‘It does not matter if I am not his destined one.’

I stand straighter, exhaling my rage. ‘All that matters is that he is mine.’ A smile curls my lips as I lift my gaze to the heavens. ‘Thank you, divine ones, for guiding me to my true path.’

My laughter bubbles up, growing into uncontrollable hysteria. I clutch my sides, tears streaming as the ecstasy of revelation overtakes me. When it fades, I wipe my eyes and turn back to Amelia, her face twisted in agony beneath me.

"Ohh, sorry~" I coo, stomping my heel into her fresh wound. Her shrieks fill the tower like a symphony. I savor every note. Stepping off, I hear a crunch beneath my shoe.

Leonard sobs. I whirl on him, pointing my blade. "Hey! Tis too early for tears!" I swing my arm again, and the dagger slips, embedding itself in his dominant arm. "Oh no, I seem to have stabbed thou!" I gasp, skipping toward him. "How will thou ever hold a sword again?"

"Why are thou doing this?!" he chokes, struggling to remove the blade. "We could have talked!"

I sigh, tapping the hilt, driving it deeper. "If only the Gods had commanded thou to love me as I love thou." Each tap makes him flinch, his pain intoxicating. "But worry not! They have shown me that my love alone is enough! Is that not a blessing?" I slip a glass vial from my corset, clear liquid shimmering in the dim light.

Leonard’s breath hitches. "W-What is that?"

I straddle his lap, pinning him. "As I have told thou many times tonight, I love thou more than anything." I seize his jaw, forcing his mouth open. He thrashes weakly, still sluggish from the earlier poison. "This will be excruciating, as thou deserves," I murmur, unscrewing the cap. "But because I am such an adoring wife, I shall ensure thou feels nothing."

I pour the liquid down his throat and clamp his mouth shut. He gags, desperate to spit it out. I release his jaw only to pinch his nose, pressing my weight against him, trapping him. "Just swallow, my dear. Thou must breathe eventually."

Silence stretches. Then— A gulp.

A smile graces my lips as I kiss him through my hand, ensuring I do not poison myself. 

I released his head, letting him gasp and cough.

“What… did thou force me to drink?” 

“Hmmm…” I tapped my lips, feigning thought. “I forgot. The apothecary warned me not to give thou too much, lest thou never walk again—but since thou art never leaving this room, that hardly matters.”

Leonard slid down the wall, his face hitting the floor. 

“Oh my.” I crouched, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “That worked fast! I must offer that apothecary a job at the estate—worth every coin!” I grabbed his arms and dragged him across the room, plopping him beside the jezebel. “Should have moved thou first—oh well, always next time!”

I froze. ‘Next time?’ My heart fluttered. ‘So this is my true calling… I have never felt so alive!’

“What are thou going to do to us?” the bug whimpered, breaking my revelation.

I clicked my tongue, fishing through my pocket. “Since the Gods have bonded thou two, I simply wish to ensure it remains so! Thou should be grateful! I really want to stab this knife into thy skull.” I sighed, retrieving my small sewing box. “But alas, I love my husband too much to take his destined one from him.”

“N-no, please!”

I giggled at her pleas, positioning their wounded arms beside each other. “Thou will feel every bit of this—I have no more poison. A shame, but one I can live with.” Opening the box, I pondered. “Shall I use a chain stitch? A block stitch? A slip stitch?” Threading the needle with red, I beamed. “Why not all three? Plenty of canvas between thou!”

As I plunged the needle into the liar’s arm, her screams wove into my nursery rhyme, completing my melody.

My body drifts in and out of consciousness, floating in the haze of exhaustion—a sleep well-earned from pursuing my craft. Months have passed since that fateful night, and I have devoted myself to my art.

A gentle shake rouses me. Alice, her charcoal hair swaying, frowns down at me.

"My lady, thou will catch death if thou keep falling asleep here!" she chides, helping me from the cold stone floor. "Let us hurry thee to the bath! It seems thou were intensely inspired last night. Just look at thy dress!"

I glance down. What was once baby-blue is now splattered with crimson. Rubbing my face, I notice my fingers bear the same stains. Composing myself, I smile. "We shall simply purchase new dresses—perhaps in crimson or charcoal, suited for creation. I am quite proud of this one."

"Thou are a master at thy craft, as always, my lady. May I ask where the canvas came from?" she inquires as she leads me from the tower.

"A trusted source informed me that he was one of the Marquess’ many ‘destined ones.’ I decided to add him to my gallery."

Skipping down the stairs, I feel as light as the autumn breeze.

After a cleansing bath, my ladies-in-waiting prepare me for the day.

‘I am the illustrious Marchioness Daphné La Lauri, wife to the brilliant Marquess Leonard of Costraria,’ I remind myself. Our Kingdom, famed for its military prowess and compassion, is mine to oversee in his absence.

Leonard departed for battle alongside his most trusted knight, aiding our northern allies in their expansion. He left a letter for his troops, which I read on his behalf. I take great pride in my responsibilities—bookkeeping, managing officials, and maintaining my social standing. Today, I must finalize preparations for the masquerade celebrating the Marquess' return.

The thought of my virtuous husband fades as a sharp sting burns my hand. The maid clipping my nails freezes, her wide eyes meeting mine.

"M-my deepest apologies, my lady. I was in awe of the beauty of thy delicate fingers."

Blood pools in my palm, warmth spreading through me. The girl frantically wraps my hand in a cloth, her hands trembling.

"Clearly, that must be the only reason for my bleeding," I murmur, relishing the sight before waving her away. "Begone. I must now complete my duties despite this injury."

Once the servants are dismissed, I lean toward Alice, whispering a single demand.

“Of course, my lady,” she bows, heading for the door. “Ah, my apologies, thy grace. The Baron of the North and his wife have confirmed their attendance at the masquerade. They seek to dispel rumors that the Marquess ever reached the Northern war. What shall be done?”

“Hmm…” I eye my wounded hand, a plan forming. “I know!” I exclaim. “I wish to speak privately about my husband before the party. Once they arrive, have the apothecary prepare double the usual dose. When they are paralyzed, have a knight take them upstairs. We’ll ensure it appears they never made it here, just like the Marquess. Poor Leonard—we’ll have to hold a memorial for him.”

“As thou wish, thy excellency,”

“My collection grows!” I giggle. “And so soon after my last! Leonard will be thrilled to see his friends again—hopefully, they won’t mind his extra body parts.”