"The best lies about me are the ones I told." – Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind

1811

For a lifetime Valarie had been insanely jealous of her 'friend' Gwyn. Valarie and Gwyn had grown up together in the same place, but Gwyn had always seemed to succeed in getting the things that Valarie had wanted most. It had always felt like fate had twisted their destinies, setting them up against each other like boxers in the ring.

Valarie had taken a break from the usual throws of society to visit Gwyn in the country. It was a risky venture returning to Gwyneth as the two shared a lot of history and not all of it good. Gwyn had been noticeably absent from the town last season and rumours had spread of her husband's worry at her promiscuity. Valarie had always found that rumour particularly amusing as it was almost completely true. No doubt Gwyn had started the rumour herself as she had never liked her husband and the marriage had been arranged by her parents. Gwyn's husband was older than her and came with a fortune of gold.

Valarie was running scared again and Gwyn – only Gwyn when you were out of range of being hit – was the only one able to help her out. Gwyneth had married young, having just turned fifteen and at a moment in life, where, the men had just realised she was female. Although Valarie had resented the attention Gwyneth garnered during their teens, she was no jealous of the man she had to marry.

In true money grabbing form, Gwyneth's parents had sold her off to the highest bidder. She had been forced into marriage to a man who was so old he was nearing his deathbed and was a man who married Gwyneth purely for her renounced beauty. He usually had little to do with Gwyneth, leaving her free to play – or that's what Gwyneth always alluded to in her letters to Valarie. Now though, it seemed she had been banished to the country estate to hide until the latest scandal was over.

Looking up at the grand three floor Manor now, Valarie wondered if marrying an old bugger was worth it.

Knocking on the door she was allowed entry and escorted through the house by a charming young butler. Hired, no doubt, for his good looks. As she waited for Gwyneth in the Lady's private sitting room, she contemplated her reasons for coming here. Though she couldn't stop the fear from engulfing her, she also knew she couldn't trust her friend completely and wondered if she'd made a mistake in coming here. There was nothing to prove that Gwyneth wasn't the one tormenting her and she wondered if perhaps she'd fallen into another trap.

Gwyneth breezed into the room in an overly bright pink dress. It did not flatter her at all, and the neckline was far too low – but perhaps she didn't care. She looked younger than her eighteen years and Valarie found herself most jealous of it.

"Valarie dear, what are you doing here? I heard rumours that you were out in society, but I hardly thought they were true. Shouldn't you be holed up in some hovel with your husband right now?"

Valarie gritted her teeth, anger filling her body. She'd been wrong to come here and could see that now.

"Oh Gwyneth, you are funny. A husband indeed! No, I am not the marrying kind, you know that. Marriage is more suited to you don't you think? After all, you did get married at fifteen. Tell me, were you pure before you married?"

If Gwyneth wanted to barb with Valarie, then she would hold nothing back. Perhaps calling her a friend was too much of a generalisation, perhaps their companionship was more akin to an acquaintance or the term 'faux friend'.

"Your words wound me. Are we so far from being friends now? Why are you here? After all, I wouldn't want to be near someone who knew my secrets so very well. Or perhaps you've come to keep me quiet."

"You talk as if you know every aspect of my life, but you don't. Do you wish for me to spill all my secrets to you or are you merely wanting to humiliate me to the point that I run from you?"

"Remember when we were little, and the local boys used to chase us? We used to make them chose who they liked more and then played them off against each other. Why can't we go back to that?"

"Going back is impossible. I've tried. Things have changed Gwyneth. I can only look forward now."

"What happened to you? You used to be more fun. I know, I'm holding a ball in two days' time, you should come. Oh, do say you'll stay here in the meantime. It would mean so much to me."

Valarie felt like she'd been boxed into a corner. On the one hand, she couldn't stand Gwyneth and on the other hand, she couldn't trust her but perhaps, she could use this to her advantage and trap Gwyneth like she'd tried to trap her.

"I'd be delighted to attend the ball Gwyneth. It's been far too long since we had some fun together. Thank you so much for allowing me to stay here. I will be sure to seek out everything while I am here."

From the look on Gwyneth's face, she clearly hadn't expected Valarie to accept her offer. Valarie smiled and not in a friendly way. Soon the mouse would become the cat and Valarie would have her answers. 

Gwyneth certainly hadn't held anything back when it came to the ball. Valarie supposed that when you had the kind of money that Gwyneth did, there was nothing to do but spend it. Valarie had closely watched her friend in the two days leading up to the ball and realised her friend was nothing more than a high profiled prostitute. The fact that she was married had done nothing to damper her sexuality and Valarie was sure from the looks of Gwyneth's household staff, that she'd slept her way through the males already. It seemed that balls like this were a regular occurrence.

Valarie watched from the side-lines as Gwyneth made rounds of the ballroom. Her husband, Lord Liddicott had long since retired to the gentleman's Smoking Room, so was either unaware of his wife's actions or he knew and was trying to avoid the problem.

Valarie was wearing a fresh pressed white muslin gown that wasn't overly patterned or expensive but shone brightly in the light of the ballroom and glittered as she walked. Many men had asked her to dance that evening, but she'd only accepted a few. She remained guarded for most of the evening as she couldn't trust anyone here and was anxiously awaiting the moment, she recognised someone from her past.

Her plan was simple enough, though slightly unorthodox. She waited till the evening was nearing its end before accompanying Gwyneth upstairs. It was a well-known fact that Gwyneth didn't share a room with her husband, and it was simple knowledge that allowed Valarie to carry out her plan.

Ladies Maids were not permitted in Gwyneth's rooms on account of the frequent visitors she had, so Valarie was completely alone and free from suspicion when she drugged her friend and sent her into a fitful sleep. Valarie figured with her friend asleep, she could search her bedchambers for evidence that would prove her guilty. It wasn't a brilliant plan, but Valarie couldn't think of any other person who knew her so well or who knew all her darkest secrets.

Watching her friend as she slept, she seemed so peaceful and childlike. She looked young, more like a child than an adult but then neither of them had passed the age of twenty yet. Valarie gazed around the room blankly, it was hardly furnished and looked more like a guest room than the bedchambers of the Lady of the house.

Valarie was quick to search the room but came up empty-handed. Right when she was about to give up, she noticed the silver letter tray on the Lady's table and the two letters that lay atop it. One was addressed to Gwyneth, it has been opened and torn up in a fit of anger. The other letter was addressed to Valarie, thought she wasn't sure how it had ended up in Gwyneth's possession. She decided to open it.

"A betrayal so bad, Valarie was sad.

A broken friendship ripped at the seams.

She didn't mean to do it, with skin pale in the moonlight and blood upon your hands.

How many enemies do you have?

How many secrets do you keep?

Where will you run at the end of your days?"

Valarie felt sick to her stomach, another note to join the others she had been receiving. Gwyneth wasn't the culprit, but it appeared she was being targeted along with Valarie. Was this Valarie's fault? She wasn't sure but she was scared, more scared than she'd been in years.

The next morning it was just Gwyneth and Valarie who dined at breakfast, the mood from the ball still lingering around them. Valarie knew she couldn't stay with her friend any longer though she dearly wanted to stay within the safety she provided.

"So why did you really seek me out?"

"I'm scared Gwyneth. These are dark times."

Valarie felt like Gwyneth was seeing into her soul as she fixed her with a stare. Valarie didn't know what she was looking for. An intense silence filled the breakfast room, each party reluctant to break it.

"He was released Valarie, last week. I know I wasn't there when everything happened, but I keep up to date with what happens in our hometown."

"He's out?" Valarie asked, panic leaking into her voice.

"What happened?"

"I can't say. I can never tell."

"He might come after you...the whole town was up in arms after it happened. No one knows what to believe. He might seek revenge on you."

"I never did anything wrong and I've paid for my sins time and time again. Help me, please!"

"I can't offer you sanctuary, but I can be your eyes when you cannot see and your ears when you cannot hear. You'll have to run Valarie. Can you do that?"

Valarie had been wrong, Gwyneth was a friend after all.

"I will run to the ends of the earth if it meant escaping his clutches."

"You came looking for answers, didn't you? Did you think I'd know what was happening? Or did you think me an accomplice?"

"I was running scared, I didn't know what to think."

"Now you do, what will you do?"

"I don't know."