Every Story Needs a Villain

Finally, he had arrived at a clearing. He shouldn’t be here alone, but he had been waiting for this moment so long. He was very well aware of the risk he was putting himself in. Perhaps he was foolish, but no matter the tragic events, his heart still held on to the tiniest hope. He shook his head, as it would clear the memories rushing to his mind. He pushed those images to the back of his mind and turned his head to the small cottage sitting in the clearing. It had a small garden full of different types of flowers and herbs. He expected it, since she always loved plants, which was one of her unchanged traits.

As he got to the garden, he got off his horse and walked towards the door of the cottage. He raised his hand to knock on the door, but then his hand stopped in the air before it could meet the wood of the door. Instead of the door, he reached for his sword and unsheathed it. Then his other hand grabbed the doorknob and slowly opened the door. As he got inside, he met with an empty living room. He eyed the room. There was a blue sofa whose colour had faded, a small table and a shelf with a few books on it. He could hear someone moving in the other room, which he assumed was a kitchen. He walked as quietly as possible into the kitchen. There was a woman who was making something over the fire.

The woman talked without turning, “Why don’t you sit, Rolant? The tea is ready.”

“You know, I didn’t come here for a friendly visit, Muriel,” He answered in a harsh tone.

Muriel turned to him with the teapot in her hands and asked in a tone full of false shock, “Oh, really? Are you above drinking tea with an old friend now that you are king?”

Rolant clenched his jaw and answered with a dangerous tone, “Of course not, but I am certainly above socialising with traitorous murderers.”

Muriel laughed dryly and said with a raised eyebrow, “Yet here you are in my cottage.”

Rolant let out a frustrated breath and said, “You know why I am here.”

“Of course, I know. You want answers, but to get them, you have to sit and have tea with me.”

Rolant opened his mouth to protest, but after meeting with Muriel’s determined gaze, he sheathed his sword and pulled one of the chairs to sit. As he did that, Muriel grabbed two cups and poured them some tea. They sat across each other in silence as they drank their tea ‘til Rolant broke it.

“Why did you kill him, Muriel?”

Muriel almost spat her tea due to his directness, but she regained her composure fast and answered, “I told you before, Rolant, I did not kill your beloved father.”

“Don’t lie to me, Muriel. After all these years, I deserve the truth.”

Muriel let out a sigh of frustration and spoke, “But that is the truth, Rolant. Your father took me in after my parents' death. He gave me a home, a new family and a good life. I loved him as my own father, just like I love you as a brother.” Then she asked him, “Why would I kill him after all he did for me?”

“That is what I want to know.”

“As I told you many times, I didn’t.”

“Let’s say I believe you. Then why did you run away?”

She laughed bitterly and said, “Why? Why did I run away?” She laughed hysterically again and continued as her voice got louder with each word, “Oh, I don’t know Rolant, maybe because the man I considered my brother threw me into the dungeons and was going to execute me without a trial!”

Rolant flinched at the harshness of her voice, and guilt filled his chest. Despite the crime she committed, she was right; there should’ve been a trial. He owned her at least that much.

“I am sorry. I should’ve at least allowed a trial, but I was young and hurt.” Rolant said.

Muriel shook her head and said, “It wouldn’t change anything, you would still find me guilty and execute me, and I would be forced to run away.”

“We found you in his room while he was dead, with your dagger in his back. Who else could’ve done it?” he asked.

“Why don’t you ask your lovely wife?” said Muriel with venom in her voice.

Rolant frowned at her, and said it with anger in his voice, “Now you are blaming my wife for it. How dare you?”

She rolled her eyes at him and started to explain, “That day before you caught me in your father’s room, Edith came to me and told me your father wanted to see me. So, I went to his room, and when I entered, I found him dead. Before I could call for the guards, you burst into the room, and I knew I was set up. Edith was the only one who knew I was going to be there, and I bet she was the one who sent you.”

Rolant was shocked at this new information. He refused to believe that idea. His wife couldn’t be a murderer.

“No, you are lying. My wife could not be a murderer.” He claimed.

“But your sister can?” Muriel challenged.

Rolant closed his mouth and tried to think of an answer for it, but he couldn’t find any. His mind was getting fuzzy. Before he could say anything, Muriel continued, “I knew you wouldn’t believe me. Your love for her blinded you. But don’t worry, dear brother, I will make sure that justice will prevail. Soon…”

Rolant was listening to Muriel, but then her voice grew distant, and his eyelids became heavy. He realised she put something in the tea. How could he be so stupid to forget she was a herbiologist? Through his blurred vision, he saw Muriel move closer to him. She leaned closer to him and whispered to his ear, “Deep down, you know the truth, Rolant. Til the time you face it, I will play the role you gave me in your story. After all, every story needs a villain.”

Then she grabbed the bag, she packed and left the man who once was her family in the small cottage that became her home for the last few weeks.