The room smelled of my usual jasmine incense mix with something metallic I couldn't place. My chest felt full of knives that never stopped moving. The pain slowly building up enough to wake me out of my sleep.
"Esther?" His voice was soft, not like his usual sleepy tone he usually had when I wake him up in the middle of the night.
"I can't—" My words came out in broken pieces. The bed dipped beneath me. Every breath was like thousands of needles piercing my chest. I gripped my chest trying to calm the pain.
He sat down beside me with a careful politeness. His fingers took my trembling hands, a touch that was usually enough to comfort me. He held me like I was made of glass unlike how people who perceive me–a cold blooded killer.
"Breath Esther," he said.
He rubbed my hand against his cheeks to try and console me. I gave him a reassured smile.
"You're scaring me."
I dropped my smile, his tone lacked of emotion, something inside me told me there is something amiss yet I cannot place my finger into it. It's like a switch has been flipped.
But the pain grew by the second.
"Quick! Call the p-physician," I said, my lips trembling. I've felt a lot of pain but there's nothing like it.
His panic should have followed like it usually is. Instead there was a cold, hollow clarity in his voice.
He laughed, his voice low. "You're being dramatic. We'll call the physician. Lay still."
He slipped his hands away, jumping out of our bed. The curtains behind him moved and someone slipped in, it was Margarette. My best friend. My confidante.
What is she doing inside our chamber?
The smile she gave him was private almost to an uncomfortable degree, but the smile she gave me was sinister.
"You look terrible," she whispered of concern, but her face told a different story, in her face lay a smile.
She snaked her hand onto my husband's arm. Her fingers were light. My stomach churned.
My throat closed around the word "why" before it could escape. What I saw almost numbed the pain in my chest. I tried to open my mouth but I can't look for the right words…
"W-what are you t-two doing?" I questioned. "I-I know! You're g-gonna help me, right?." I forced a smile that tasted like paper. Forcing myself to reason out what my eyes could see. I don't want to believe! I refused to believe!
Margarette crouched to my level as if to whisper a secret. "Esther, please. Just die already. It was such a strong poison? Why did it took too long to effect. Are you even human? I was cramping up hiding behind that curtain. Aren't you my best friend? Don't make me suffer like this."
"Poison? What do you mean?" I echoed. The laugh ripped out of me, I wanted it to be a joke.
But even breathing was a chore. The truth clinging to my body and sapping my strength dry.
She gestured something in my back and when I forced myself to turn around, I saw the empty glass of milk at the table. It was the milk my husband prepared for me before we went to bed.
He leaned in, blue eyes clinical. "You've always been… difficult and too smart for your own good. You wasted a lot of our time. We even have to make a story to isolate you so you keep depending on us. We're done."
"No. People hate me because I'm cruel," I hissed. "It was natural for them to hate me." the blood started spilling from my mouth at every words, the metallic taste weirdly familiar.
"Nope. You did what we told you so you can pave the way for us," he corrected. "We made you the villain so we could be the heroes. And if you're gone? Everyone will love us."
My world narrowed to two faces. I watched them discuss me like a painting they could reframe. Margarette's hand never left his arm. Her smile never left her mouth.
My hand started to lose it strength. I can barely make sense of everything but more than that, the anger surge inside my body.
If I could just grab my sword I wanted to slash them both even if it's the last thing I do. The victorious smile in their faces are worst than the pain of the poison that slowly killing me.
"S-Stop," I said. The word was small. I had given bigger orders than that—executions, decrees, verdicts. None of those felt as important in this moment as the thread of breath that clung to my lungs. I don't want to die, I can't lose. Esther doesn't lose.
I wanted revenge.
He shook his head. "It's all your fault, Esther. You made it happen."
Margarette smiled like sunlight that had turned poisonous. "We will make sure to take care of the throne you fought so hard for. Because that's what they believe…"
How dare they lie to me like that?
"Believe what?" My voice scraped raw. I tried to sit up but the room tipped. My vision's blurring.
"That you were the monster," he said. "That you enjoyed the blood. That you wanted power at any cost and that you're better off dead. And we're the savior that will save them from all of that." then a laugh echoed across the room.
So, they planned everything. I was an idiot for even believing them.
"You—" I choked on my own blood, my white mattress now stained in red.
"Don't force yourself, it will hurt more,you're gonna die anyways" Margarette said with a smile of fake kindness.
No! You were my bestfriend! You're supposed to be my bestfriend!
"You traitors!" I spat as blood drip out of my mouth many times than I could count, spilling like vomit.
"See? I told you. Don't worry I'll take care of your beloved husband for you." she stated in mocking tone landing a kiss on his cheek.
"Go fuck yourself," I cursed even if that's the last thing my mouth could manage. I spat the blood in front of them, the liquid flew in her nightgown.
Then a loud slap landed in my face.