I shook my head at her words. I stepped outside and she followed. Outside it was cold, far colder than what I had expected. I was thankful for the cloak and hurried into the forest. Within the first few step in, it grew dark. The high branches of the trees blocked out the faint sunlight, and I couldn't even see the ground, causing me to stumble.

Aideen walked several steps behind me. We were both silent. I searched for a black figure, but couldn't find any.

"It's getting colder, maybe we should leave soon," she finally said. I ignored her and continued walking deeper into the forest.

Then I saw it. Someone wearing black laying on the ground.

"Aideen!" I screamed. "Get help from the castle! Quick!"

The moment I finish my sentence, Aideen started running, the crunch of dried leaves and twigs being stepped on sounding throughout the forest. I take slow steps until I am only a foot away from the body. I inhale deeply before bending down. I put my hand cautiously on the shoulder, and feel that it is stiff. Stiff like a corpse.

Not wanting to lose courage, I turn the body around before I pulled my hand back quickly. When I see the face, I feel my legs give out underneath me.

It was Tristesse. Her eyes were wide open, like her mouth. Her skin was pale, along with her lips, and her face frozen in a permanent silent scream. Her neck, bruised black and blue, is proof that she was strangled. Her hat and veil had fallen next to her, and the footprints imbedded in the dirt showed she had struggled. Her hands lie limp by her side, fingers rigid and crooked. Inside her left hand, she clutched something. Judging from the oval shape and chain of gold, it is a pendant.

I closed my eyes and took deep breaths, but I still couldn't help shaking violently.

Tristesse has been murdered.

I opened my eyes again, and notice something else. Something shiny is embossed in her dark hair. I bit my lips hard and brought my trembling fingers into her hair. After pulling it out, I stared at the dandelion seed in my hand. It wasn't the only one. Dandelion seeds were scattered on her corpse, glistening brightly despite the ugly scene it was in.

These Dandelion seeds are no longer a symbol of winning the prince's love; they symbol death, destruction—that there are people who would do anything to win.

"You, there! Move away from the body!"

I turned to see the Royal Guards, along with Aideen, running my way. I stood up and turned away. Face a tree, I bent down and vomited the only tart I had all of yesterday and this morning. Aideen ran over to my side and patted my back. I sobbed into her chest. I could still see that horrid scene and feel that stiffness.

"The two of you will have to answer some questions," a guard said.

"Yes," I replied weakly.

A guard walked Aideen and I back to the castle while the others stayed and studied the scene of the crime.

The Royal Guards and Officials brought us to separate rooms and interrogated us for a long time, and I had to repeat my story several times. I lied and said that I was simply going for a walk in the forest, but other than that, I told the truth. I described the scene, although every part of me dreaded seeing the image again. Although they never said anything about us, I could sense their wariness and see that they are suspicious of us.

Thankfully Aideen requested for Princess Oda to come, so after she returned from the dandelion seed collecting trip she took us out of custody and tried her best to help clear us of suspicions.

When we were finally released, dinnertime had passed and me and Aideen ate together by ourselves. Afterwards we returned to my form and as I expected, when I opened the door, Oda stood there, eyes red with fury.

"Why," she hissed when I finally stepped inside and closed the door, "Why did you have to go and do such a thing?"

I sighed before sliding into my chair. "Even you suspect us?" Aideen pressed her lips tightly together before looking down at her skirt, looking like she was ready to cry.

"No. I meant, why'd you have to go and report the body?" I frowned. What is she saying?

"What do you mean?" She sighed in frustration before sitting on my bed.

"Everyone already knew that Tristesse died."

"You jest," I replied, feeling sick. "Surely you jest."Oda's pale eyes narrowed at my reply, and she leaned into my face.

"There's rumors some girls in the Upper Classes hired people to kill her. She had been reported to be missing since two days ago. If you hadn't being missing all those breakfast and dinners busy chasing Oscar you would've known." She turned away. "You had to go and become a suspect by discovering her body."

As she spoke, I thought of the group of girls that I heard speaking in the dining room, along with Priscilla. My skin crawled, and I looked at Aideen, whose was also deep in thought. I knew that she was thinking of the same people.

"Do you have any leads on who they might be?" I said slowly, nervous about what I would hear.

"My biggest suspicions are definitely Garnett Valliere and Lorna Heathcote-Stome," Oda said in a low voice, like their very names are taboo, "but both of them had perfect aliases. Priscilla Winter, though, doesn't, and had been seen walking around both night."

"Priscilla Winter!" Aideen exclaimed the moment she finishes her sentence. "Is one of the possible pawns of the Queen committing murder? Does the Queen know of this? Is she in it too?" she asked, her tiny body trembling and her eyes filling with tears.

"We don't know," Oda admitted coldly, "but the fact that Priscilla had no aliases for two days and often speaks to Garnett and Lorna remains."

I was about to ask more, but I was cut off by Aideen, who started to wail, and her trembling had increased along with her outburst of emotions.

"That's not possible! The Queen would never do such a thing!" Her voice was shrill and sharp, and sent shivers up my spine. She gasped for air, and her cheeks were wet and red.

"Aideen! Aideen!" Oda rose from her seat to walk to her. I stood up shakily, but I am afraid to go closer.

"No, no, no!" Aideen chanted incoherently, eyes scrunched together and shaking her head continuously, whipping her head so hard that her braids fall down from their place and swish back and forth. Suddenly, Oda clamped her hands onto her shoulders.

"Aideen! Calm down!"

As if awoken from a trance, Aideen stoped and opened her eyes. She stoped shaking, and Oda loosened her grip on her small shoulders, trading it for a hug. She wounded her arms around the smaller girl and rocked her back and forth.

"Calm down, Aideen. We don't know anything for sure. We aren't even sure if Priscilla Winter is working with Mother. You don't have to worry. Everything is fine."

Oda continued her rocking and comforting her like one does to a little child. Aideen's face is wet and loose strands of hair are matted to her cheeks and her plaits are undone.

What had just happened? Aideen, who was always perfectly composed and logical, had cried like a child at the idea of the Queen committing murder.

How strong is her devotion to the Royal family?

"I'm sorry, Karina," Oda murmured to me as she turned to look at me. "I'll bring Aideen to my room tonight."

I frowned. A maid in the princess's room?

"We often did this when we were small," she explained to me despite my silence, and patted Aideen's head. In a softer voice, she said, "Come on, you don't have to worry now."

I watched them, Aideen leaning on the princess's shoulder as she supported her, trudging out the door. I remembered that Aideen was raised by the Queen. To imagine that the Queen—her foster mother—supported murder must have been too horrible of a thought. Oda, on the other hand, was a lot more cynical despite also being raised by the Queen. She didn't seem to doubt the idea, or even reluctant to believe in it. The two of them couldn't be more than different.

Even though the Queen being our greatest rival, Aideen and Oda still hold a great deal of respect for her, knowing she only means well for her son. However, if even the purest of goals require murder, is it still pure? Would victory, gained by eliminating the innocent, satisfy her?

And the thing that's been on my mind; if Priscilla, or whoever the murder was, wasn't afraid to kill Tristesse, I, surely, was no expectation.