Blue. Ocean blue mixed with lavender. They reminded him of violets stained with blue ink.

Red. Like blood. His blood. Trickling. Dripping.

Red everywhere.

Screams. Screams that were feral. Anguished.

Pain. So much pain.

And then silence.

It had been one month, three days and six hours since Blake had died. Sophia had kept a meticulous track of it.

She was now three months pregnant with Blake's child. The one he would never meet. Gowns had to be replaced, undergarments made looser and herself well fed, though Sophia couldn't even remember the last meal she had eaten.

It was all so methodical now. She woke up, stared outside the window as she let the sunlight bake her skin. And then she would cry, eat, sleep, cry a little bit more and bid another day gone good night.

Every day, Colette tried to talk to her. Tried to explain herself, but Sophia staunchly ignored her. For she thought if she spoke, she would be reduced to a lunatic who might throttle her own sister to her death in grief.

Murder had already taken place by a family member. No need to add to that list.

She still remembered the day she had come home. She had remained unconscious throughout her entire journey back, and Sophia supposed they had periodically knocked her out to prevent her from screaming for help. The next thing she remembered was lying on her bed, still in her bloody dress and blood splattered hand, with Colette bobbing over her.

'Sophia, let's get you cleaned up," Colette had whispered.

Sophia looked at her red-stained hands, now crusted with the blood of her dead love.

The love she never said goodbye to, never would bury with the honor he deserved. She assumed the locals would just assume he was a passing man and bury him in an unmarked grave. Unless Tom got through to Blake's mother. Informed her.

But why would he? He might be framed for being an accomplice to Blake's death. No, no one in that church would say a word to avoid being implicated. Blake's mother would search for him, for answers He would get his burial when she figured it out.

So she hoped. Blake deserved that. He didn't deserve to die like an animal, shot and left for dead. That's all she could think about, that he needed a burial.
And she needed closure.

Colette gently eased Sophia up on the bed and tried to yank her to her feet.

"Come on Sophia. Let's go," Colette had said, firmer than before.

Sophia had looked up at Colette with a broken soul swimming in cracked depths of hollow eyes. "You did this," she had whispered and had shoved her bloody hands at Colette, grasping at her cloth, clawing at her sister.

Colette had screamed. And then everything had disappeared to black.

A soft knock came at her door and Sophia looked up, startled. "Co... come in," she stuttered warily. She knew it wasn't Colette because Colette had barged in always, without a thought to decency.

A hooded figure stepped into the room and Sophia's heart started to thud in her chest at the sudden yet surprisingly polite intruder. The intruder that was revealed to be Olivia Cavendish as she drew her hood back. Sophia gasped in surprise, whether it was because she was here itself or because it seemed surreal almost, that she had come right when Sophia had thought about her.

How had she come in, when her father imposed that no one should talk to her?

"Lady Cavendish. I...I..."

Sophia gulped. The past couple of weeks, Blake's mother had continuously sent her letter after letter, querying about her son and his "wife," when she heard no news of him. Sophia has blatantly ignored it, and every time she had come calling she made sure Colette turned her away. Until now.

"Sophia." She bit out curtly, her deep green eyes looking at her in a steady yet slightly furious manner. Sophia didn't blame her. No one, especially women of her standing, liked to be ignored and refuted.

Sophia hastily scrambled to her feet and bowed. Well, bowed as much her garments and enlarged stomach would allow. Olivia's eyes immediately dropped to her hips and she quirked a small smile.

"I presume your child is healthy?" Sophia didn't expect that to be Olivia's first remark.

"Yes, my lady," Sophia replied, trying to steady her rampant heart by breathing through her mouth. This situation was a cliff's edge and Sophia had to handle it with care.

"How about Blake? Is your husband all right?" The way it was phrased made it seem like Olivia was testing her somehow.
Sophia gulped heavily and immediately tears sprung to her eyes, causing Olivia to frown.

"What is it? It was just a simple question." She was definitely testing the waters, Sophia knew it in her heart.

"He...He..." Sophia couldn't get the words out. They were lodged in her throat, suffocating her.

"If you won't answer, let me at least say my piece," Olivia replied, staring at Sophia with a stern expression, the skin around her eyes pulled tightly in slight anger.

"You got married a month ago. I assumed you would visit afterward, for final blessings but I haven't heard a word. I then assumed you had gone on a small honeymoon of sorts in Scotland, but when the two-week mark hit, I started to worry. It seems I had cause to. It is not natural for Blake to ignore his mother. I am asking you again, what happened? Something must have, yes? Where is he?" She whispered, her fingers twiddling with one another, betraying her worry though she tried to keep a cool composure.

Sophia couldn't breathe. She wanted to say something, anything, but words wouldn't come. She kept opening and closing her mouth like a dying fish.

"I tried to get in contact with your reverend, our old family friend but I was unable to reach him. All messages were sent back to me. I tried our manors in Scotland, hoping you were perhaps situated there till your elopement scandal settled down, but imagine my surprise when it wasn't so. I even went to Gretna to see where you had disappeared to. But no local would speak to me. Then I sent letters to your sister, hoping she would have answers." Olivia's voice had diminished to almost silence.

Sophia's heart constricted at what Olivia would say next, trepidation consuming her heart.

'She told me that you were here, but Blake wasn't. I didn't know what to do after this, except ask you. It seemed odd for you to two to be here. I had to know what happened for events to lead to you both living under your family's roof instead of your own. I tried to contact and you ignored me. But you cannot any longer." Olivia had started walking towards Sophia, stuck an arm out and jostled Sophia's shoulder. Her eyes were slightly wide with hysteria.

"What happened to my son. Where is he and why are you here?"

"He's... He's dead."

"Wha..." Olivia stumbled away from her, her eyes widened and her mouth in pulled into sharp 'o '.

"Ho... How... When... How?"

Sophia recounted the tale, from beginning to end. The agreement between her father and the duke. The fallout. The revenge. And the fatal gunshot that had pierced through Blake's skin, caused blood to gush out like a waterfall.

The shot that had ended his life.

Olivia Cavendish, to Sophia, was one woman Sophia had the deepest respect for. She seemed to possess an inner bravery, strength, and kindness Sophia couldn't ever muster. And it broke Sophia to see her reduced to a bag of tears, blood leached from he skin and her looking so faint.

She tilted her glassy green eyes up to Sophia's who was hovering over her. When Olivia had heard the news she had collapsed on the bed and was now clutching the sheets tightly between her fingers.

"I am so sorry." That's all Sophia could say. For everything else sounded wrong. Sounded like blasphemy.

"It is not your fault."

"Yes, it is."

Olivia reached an arm out and Sophia flinched, thinking she was going to slap her but Olivia clasped her hand in hers. "No, it isn't."

Sophia nodded softly her tears welling up at her kindness. She didn't deserve it.

"Where is his body? Is it still where he was shot? It could be there. It has to. He deserves a proper Catholic burial."

"I assume it is in the church unless the Scottish officials decided to bury him. I do not know. I had hoped you would have found out, but what you have told me, no one wished to reveal the information to you. Besides, I have been locked down here. My father hasn't let me out, leashing his servant Jenkins on me and I can't find the strength to go on nonetheless." Sophia muttered.

Sophia frowned then.

"How did you get inside, anyhow? I know Colette must've let you in out of guilt, but Jenkins had strict orders not to let anyone talk to me, for fear I would speak of my father's treachery and turn them over to the law. I wouldn't because they know my own shames would be highlighted. That my child would be born with the axe of scandal looming over her. That's their leverage over me. But you. You are Blake's mother. How did you get here?"

Olivia tittered nervously. "Well, I snuck a rolling pin under my dress and might have nocked your servant out."

Sophia gaped at her. "how? He was a spy! It seems completely surreal you could get the jump on him!"

Olivia's mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. "You servant hasn't met my determination, sweet child. He didn't expect me and I knocked him flat before he even realized I was there."

Sophia couldn't help but smile at her once-to-be mother in law. "I can see where Blake sometimes gets his bull-headedness from."

"Yes. Blake is white determined when he wants to be." Olivia paused. "Blake was." The past tense usage caused both of them to sniffle slightly.

A soft groan came from downstairs and both women froze.

"That is my cue to leave, Sophia." She placed a loving, warm hand on Sophia's stomach. "Thank you for telling me what happened to my son. I understand why you kept it from me this long. Blake is gone, but a small part of him will always be with you. And I will help you take care of the babe. And the scandal. "

Sophia muttered a thank you and Olivia nodded. Her eyes still swam with sadness, pools of despair. She had lost her son. But Sophia couldn't help but admire her bravery in front of Sophia. With one last look and sad smile, Olivia pulled her hood over her head and snuck out the door.

Sophia wished Olivia would have screamed at her. Thrown things at her. But the understanding in her voice, the support. It was too much. It was Sophia's breaking point.

Sophia hadn't let herself unleash her emotions. She had cried, yes, but they were submerged. She didn't want to mourn his loss. She wanted to honor his memory. Crying wouldn't do that.

Yet perhaps to honor him, she had to let go. Of the rage she felt at him for dying on her and their child. Guilt that she caused it. And finally, accept that he was gone.

And gone he was.

"Jenkins, you let me in right now, or I swear you shall feel my wrath," Alessandra cried, flashing her golden eyes at him. Her unusual eye coloring made most men uncomfortable and given in to her, but Jenkins didn't even flinch.

"I am sorry, my lady. I have strict orders to not let anyone speak to Sophia. Someone already broke into the house, I presume to talk to her. I am unsure. I can't figure out who. I can't take any more risks, my lady" he growled, rubbing and lump on his head that had swollen to a nasty purple and red. The look he gave her made her think he suspected she did this and this appearance at the doorstep was to cover it up, as a way of proving her innocence. She scoffed.

"You let me in or I will make that worse." Alessandra spit. "Besides I need to talk to Colette, not Sophia." She stressed the last part of the sentence, hoping Jenkins would drop the ridiculous notion that she had snuck in.

"My lady, I can not-"

"It's all right, Jenkins. I will ensure she doesn't speak to Sophia. Father has given me the same order, and you have seen where my loyalties are," Colette came up behind him and replied, referring to her treachery. She waved her hand to dismiss him. Jenkins gave Alessandra a grunt of disapproval and then stalked off.

"Come in, cousin. We have a lot to talk about."

"How did you find out?" Colette had discerned the reason for her cousin's visit as soon as she had seen the rage bubbling beneath the surface.

"About your treachery? Sophia told me," Alessandra replied her face livid as she glared at Colette. If looks could kill, Colette would have better off in hell.

"How did she get the information to you?"

"She has her ways." Sophia had managed to somehow twist a servant that brought her meals to her will, begging her helplessly until the youth had agreed to deliver this message to her cousin a couple days ago. All servants were told not to listen to Sophia, but her father clearly hadn't given her intelligence and sharp tongue as much credit as he ought to have.

Sophia was very persistent and stubborn when she needed to be.

"She asked me to check what they had done with his body, but they refused to tell me. My husband's influence in Scotland is vast, but not in Gretna Green. I was unable to find out the information. And it seems something is happening in Gretna, and all the locals are being hushed about it."

"So have you come here to tell me to tell my sister that you have failed her," Colette replied earning her a sharp growl from Alessandra.

"No, I came to talk to you, actually."

Colette had been fiddling with a vase on the table on the parlor, but her hand stilled when Alessandra announced her intentions. "Why?"

"Isn't that the question here? Why did you do it?" Alessandra responded wryly.

"I had no choice,"

This launched Alessandria into a fit of anger. "No choice? You had a choice! You chose wrong! Sophia would have helped you, but you went behind her back. I would have helped you if Sophia had reached out to me. There was an option."

"It's all over now. It doesn't matter. Besides, are you truly that bored to act as a spokesperson for my sister," Colette drawled, hoping insults would driver her pestering cousin away.

Alessandra stalked up to her and smacked her on the cheek. "How. Dare. You. I may be your cousin but I still am higher in social standing than you and you will speak to me with more respect. I am here out of love and duty for Sophia." Her cheeks had flushed to a lighter color of the rich, red hair, growing deeper as her anger rose.

"I am sorry." Colette clutched her face but made no whimper of pain. Just held it.

"I am not the one you're supposed to be saying it to."

"Sorry is not going to bring him back. It is not going to be enough to forgive my actions."

Alessandra suddenly grabbed Colette by the shoulders and shook her until her teeth rattled. "Wake up, Colette, to the damage you have inflicted. Wake up and own up to your mistakes."

Colette adamantly stared down at her feet, ashamed.
"Do you understand, "Alessandra bit, when Colette failed to respond.

She nodded her head slightly.

"Good. I have said what I have come here to say." Alessandra replied and the paused. From beneath her hat, she pulled out a white, or what used to be a white cloth, that was now drenched with thick dark crusted red.

She thrusted it into Colette's hands and Colette gasped in surprised, recoiling her hands from Alessandra. Alessandra stuffed it tightly in between her fingertips before Colette could drop it.

"I was unable to find out where Blake was buried. I presumed your father had something to do about it. But I did get my hands on a cloth from his death scene. From where they dragged him off "

Pointing to the remnants of Sophia's wedding dress. "That's what you did. And that's what you have to live with."

And then Alessandra stalked off, leaving behind a distraught Colette.

The white cloth hung limply from Colette' fingers, a reminder of the horror.

And then it fell as her fingertips let go, just like her heart.

Fell into a deep dark well.

A/N: Well, it seems like Blake really is dead. The locals have buried him and won't speak of him, in fear of Conway. It can't be anything else, can it?

Or do you think something is abrew?

Comment below!

Thoughts on Olivia and Alessandra making a reappearance?

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