Bab 90: Something too important
The heavy golden bells of the cathedral that evening were slowly ringing a melody of death, of end, of sadness, not for the first time.
That same morning the cold lifeless bodies of the Dustin brothers were found, inside their common and large bedroom.
Their deaths had been discovered, as neither of them had turned up for breakfast that morning.
That same day the bodies of the two were found, slumped on the cold and marble floor of the room, next to each other.
Brooklyn, of course, having heard about the death of the two had not hesitated to present herself in their room and ascertain the cause of the deaths of the twins.
She had seen them lying on the floor, next to each other.
The faces of the brothers were pale, almost the color of the floor, the brown eyes of the two were wide open, regurgitations of dry, red blood, almost the color of the hair of the two had exploded on their thin and pale lips.
A stain of blood also came out of the small and freckled noses of the twins, joining the blood that already covered their lips and chins.
Their blood was dry enough to lead one to believe that the death of the two was attributable to the night before.
Next to the twins there were also tiny and thin shards of glass, which still lay there, next to their hands, wet from the aromatic liquor, that the two brothers were drinking that night.
It was so very likely that the two Dustins had died from poisoning but she just had to figure out how.
To tell the truth Brooke was more than sure that the two had died that way and on the one hand she was relieved, because she felt in her heart that this was what the two deserved for killing Francis and for having threatened her.
Following the deaths of the two southern Irish Earls, doubts arose about Brooklyn Stanley possibly guilty of attempted murder.
She was on the one hand sure that no one could confirm the suspicions of the mighty Dustin house, as primarily, no one knew William Dustin was a killer and Dickon was a coward.
This information would have in such a painful moment, brought much disgrace to the rich family, which had simply decided not to want to know, to remain in the sad mystery of the death of the twins.
Meanwhile the princess had learned the news with much disappointment, as she had started walking back and forth through her rooms, crying and screaming.
Isabelle was gradually losing all support and slowly it was becoming more and more complicated for her to be able to carry on her reign with threats and death.
The rebels were getting closer to the castle, every day her only daughter became increasingly weak and her cousin and betrothed became more and more distant and detached.
After those events Brooke was completely sure she knew who the killer was.
The suspicions led to Johanna Cross, Francis's mother, who, driven by the pain of having lost her two children one after the other, must have acted with ingenuity and cunning.
Brooke had several theories within her young mind, but first of all she had to be able to approach the grieving mother with sensitivity and understanding, bypass the subject in order to get to her point as soon as possible.
She thus reached the woman's private room, which, in the darkness of the night, was still illuminated by the light of the candles.
She wore a black cloak, the hood of which she held tightly over her head, over her puffy, curly black hair, the color of charcoal.
She knocked softly on the hard, woody door.
Brooklyn waited, she did not immediately wait for someone to answer her, thus leading her in a frantic act of impatience to push the door, the golden knob, leading her to discover that the lock had never been closed.
This room was dark, barely lit by any candles.
But as she could see, it was occupied by a precious and comfortable bed, even too much to belong to a simple courtesan.
The usual furniture, typical of any room, as well as a precious lacquered wooden table that was in the center of the room, hosting at its side the figure of the woman, slumped, sad, depressed.
Much of her long, straight hair was there to cover her face, leaving only her small, freckled upturned nose visible.
Johanna held in her hands, between her thin fingers, a glass of golden liqueur, the aromatic smell of which was spreading around the room, up to the door.
Brooklyn involuntarily learned that smell, it was the same as the liquor the twins were drinking that night.
She noticed a thin and small smile creating on the woman's lips, Johanna seemed to have noticed she had come to find her and seemed to be happy, no matter how much pain she might feel at that moment.
-Brooklyn Stanley, you came to see me, please, take a seat, I'm quite alone these days...- the woman almost hissed from her lips, as if kindly trying to make her guest feel at ease.
Brooke first had to take courage, calm down, she helped herself by inspiring deeply from her fleshy, dark lips.
-Pleased to meet you Lady Cross, I suppose you know me, I was a friend of your son Francis...- Brooke tried to introduce herself briefly closing the door behind her -I'm so sorry for what happened...-.
At those words it seemed as if to the woman old memories came back, sad memories but from certain angles with bits of happiness.
-Francis, Thomas, they were my everything, my children, they were my motivation to get by, to continue my life, but now that they are both dead I have nothing left, nothing to hope or believe in...-.
Those desperate words from the grieving mother deeply touched Brooke's heart, she too loved Francis and knew how much pain she could feel in losing a loved one.
The feeling, the affection, had fooled her, had repeatedly discharged her from her personal duty.
Brooke sat at the table facing the woman, she tried to observe her face, so much similar to that of her deceased son but so empty of emotions at the same time.
-Here and there around the castle, voices can still be heard, so it was perhaps true that Thomas, your youngest son was...-.
- the king's son?- asked Johanna turning the small glass of liqueur in her fingers and putting a smile on her pale face -it is true, the king and I had a temporary relationship, Thomas was born from it...- said the woman finally placing the glass still full of golden and sticky liquor on the table.
-Not that I loved that man or anything else- Johanna immediately tried to justify herself, meeting for the first and only time her gaze with that of the guest -but he was a royal and I am only a courtesan, it was my duty to obey every order, even if it went too far...-.
Brooke looked away from her, a theory of her was coming true and the woman, more importantly, was helping hers to confirm her hypothesis.
-So you obey every task that a nobleman gives you, every kind I imagine...-.
Johanna nodded, Brooke could see how much pain was enclosed in her heart.
-I know what you want to know, Brooklyn- admitted the woman putting a mocking smile on her face -there is no need to avoid the topic, you want to find out if I killed the Dustins, it was my job, all I could do, after having killed my son...- Johanna said taking in her voice some note of sad regret.
Brooke knew Isabelle had something to do with the drugs, the prosecution, the killing of Francis.
She took the woman by the neck of her dress, she couldn't think beyond that.
Brooke was right from the start, the princess had always worked to be able to plant discord among all the members of the English aristocracy, all those situations, those deaths, were only and exclusively her fault.
Brooklyn hit the woman's body against the wall, with so much force and anger that she almost didn't seem like herself, she looked into her eyes, for the first time Johanna was afraid of her.
That woman was just one of Isabelle's puppets, a spy, she seemed to know everything that was going on and everything she knew she reported to the princess.
Once Johanna was killed there would be no problems, as one of the other spies of the crown had been annihilated.
But as the woman tried to protect herself, she ended up pressing her fingers against Brooke's abdomen, it was hard, slightly swollen and the action she committed made her back away for a moment.
Johanna knew what it was and what came out of her mouth made Brooklyn shiver even more.
-You are...you are pregnant, Brooklyn- she said as from the fear of being discovered she abruptly let her go, thus making the woman fall to the floor.
-This too...it's all Isabelle's fault- Brooklyn admitted taking her hands one inside the other, rubbing them violently -I will never know who my baby's father is, all because of her...- Brooke fell almost without strength into a chair, which was next to the table.
Johanna looked up, she did not know what would happen, even though she knew many things about the court, she knew Isabelle was capable of anything and so she ventured, she dared to ask, what bad Brooke had experienced.
-Isabelle found out that I was a woman, that's why she punished me, for hiding the truth from her, all this time, she allowed the guards, every night to do what they wanted with me, every fucking night...I bled almost to death and the pain I felt...it was not imaginable- Brooklyn pulled a knife, a dagger, sharp, well-made.
Now she wanted to use it against Johanna, because she was the only one who knew about her secret, apart from Isabelle.
-She did it...- Brooklyn continued to speak as her eyes were turned to the emptiness and darkness of that nocturnal room -she did it because she knew that rape is worse than death for a woman...-.
It was precisely this word that finally convinced the young woman of her actions.
She was not like Isabelle, she would never have been and even if that woman had committed a completely wrong act out of desperation, she deserved forgiveness and not death.
Brooklyn hit the table with the sharp blade of the dagger, with such force, so much anger that the blade was permanently blocked in the center of it.
-Our life goes on Johanna, mine, yours, I believe in forgiveness, take your life in your hands and go on...- finished Brooke, putting her hands in the pockets of her pants and in silence, leaving the room, under Johanna's frightened gaze.
She would never report anything to Isabelle, ever again...
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone