What an Awful Waste
"Fish or fowl, it must be well-selected so that no one else at all will be affected.
What an awful waste to do in someone I don't want to kill."
I instructed myself thoughtfully and carefully as I dodged the many traveling plates on the D'ysquith table. Would they ever stop moving? Any time a new dish would come, it would be eschewed by Lord Adalbert just as swiftly as it arrived. There was no respite. Constant movement, and constant eye contact, neither of which assisted me one bit.
Nothing seemed right. I had always had a sort of relaxed confidence when… ahem, "dispatching" the other D'ysquith heirs, but this murder did require skill. And patience. Lots of patience. As each opportunity arose for me to drop the poison into his dish, it fled. I couldn't pour it in plain sight. It needed to be done so discretely that- OH! Desert! Perfect. There were no other dishes to come, so this was my final chance. If only Sibella would cease looking at me.
She had not kept her eyes off me all night. They'd been either on me, or shooting fiery glares at Phoebe, who hadn't the slightest, but mostly me. As much as I wanted to convey through my eyes what I wished to say with my words: Bugger off, I couldn't. I was too busy concentrating, and I had had quite enough of Sibella's selfishness and conceit for one night, so I assumed it was best not to engage. If only she weren't so sickeningly beautiful. I really needed to focus.
At this point, the Earl was rattling on about his war days, frighteningly pointing his shotgun across the table to various people, and still looking at me was Sibella, but only her, so I took my chance. I clumsily dropped my napkin on the floor and gestured for her to pick it up for me. She shot a confused and suspicious look before she bowed down to retrieve it, probably because that drop was more of a fling across the floor. I didn't care. I needed to get this over with at once. I leaned over, just in time to drop the entirety of the poison onto Lord Adalbert's desert. I scooted back into my chair just as Sibella rose to give me my napkin back. I took it from her quickly, touching her hand. A part of my wanted to keep it there longer, deciphering the look in her eyes, but I couldn't. I flashed a smile and returned to my position, eyeing the poisonous plate.
When the Earl finally sat down, my heart giddily pounded in my chest. Doubts flashed through my head: What if he tastes the poison, what if he doesn't die quick enough and he realized what happened and tells the entire party, what if he saw me? I hushed my thoughts as he picked up his fork. This was it. My final murder.
But, wait.
He put down the fork and declared the desert too decadent. Too decadent? He'll eat it. He has to eat it. Before I knew it, the plate was in front of Sibella. I didn't think. I watched. She refused. Good. Alright, now he has to eat it. He didn't. Instead, he aimed his shotgun at us in a craze. I didn't know what to do. I had a gun pointed at my head, and Sibella's. Still keeping one eye on the gun, she gingerly lifted the fork to her mouth.
No.
"SIBELLA, STOP!" I shouted loud enough to shake the Earl from his trance. I grabbed Sibella's shoulder and clasped her dainty hand, still gripping the bare fork. She had swallowed.
No. I thought again. My Sibella. No.
She just glared at me, confused and bewildered. I allowed myself to get lost in her eyes, and my chest twisted in pain at my love for her, and even more, for my about to lose her.
"Monty? What is it?!" Phoebe questioned, impatient astounded at the ruckus I caused.
I barely heard her. My eyes stayed locked on Sibella's, and hers on mine. I still had her in my grip.
"Monty?" Sibella asked, helplessly questioning. I think she knew at that point, because there was a crack in her voice, and she took sharp short breaths. She gasped for air as she started to fall to the ground, but I caught her halfway. And there we were. She lay in my arms as I kneeled down, supporting her. The entire company stared in shock.
"Sibella, I… I am so sorry" I said, pushing her platinum bangs to the side, so her eyes could fully engulf me.
"No, Monty. I'm sorry" she said, still life in her voice and light in her eyes. She didn't understand what I meant. A part of me was glad she didn't. I began to feel tears bead in my eyes.
"I do love you Monty. You know I've always loved you, since we were young I've loved you, Monty and I've never stopped" she confessed. A week ago, even a day ago, I would have killed to hear those words. Now those words were killing me.
"Sibella" I tried to stop her, but she went on.
"And you've loved me too, Monty. You've never ceased, no matter how horrible I was to you. I've hurt you, Monty. I've hurt you so much all these years, and yet, you still love me. I'm not worthy of you, Monty. Why you've stayed with me for as long as you have still baffles me" she concluded. Tears edged their way down my cheeks as I noticed her voice becoming breathier. I decided to answer her question.
"You make me laugh" I said with a hopeless smile, tears now flowing freely down my chiseled face. She smiled too, as we both knew that was her reason as well.
"My poor Monty" she said as she cupped her delicate hand against my cheek, as to comfort me as I lost control of my tears. I held on to that hand, brought it to my lips, and kissed it. She smiled, blood red lipstick still shining.
"My Sibella" I whispered, breathless, her hand still touching above my lips.
We didn't say anymore. Nothing was left to be said. She closed her eyes, as elegantly as if she were falling asleep, her long painted lashes flickering down as if to bat her eyes. It was the last time those beautiful eyes ever stole me away. I held her head to mine. I could smell her strong perfume, the scent of flowers in her hair, and poison on her lips.
The clock remained still for that one minute, as if the entire universe collapsed on itself, and only Sibella remained. Now, I was alone, on the floor, and speechless.
The entire table stared at me, eyes wide. Phoebe was the most expressive. I could feel sadness and anger and confusion radiate off her uncontrollably, but all I could think of was the precious wilted flower in my arms. She looked so alive, even in death.
"Monty?" Phoebe whispered, horrified. I glanced up at her. She was clutching the chair with one hand, and her heart with the other.
I didn't say anything. I lay Sibella's head on the ground gently and stood. There was a long pause of only stares directed at me, then Sibella, then again at me.
"I…" I stated shakily.
There was a silence. I had nothing to say. Excuse me, ladies and gentleman but I just accidentally poisoned my mistress with a desert that was meant for the Earl. I began to cry again.
"Dear God, Henry. What have you done to your wife?" Adalbert exclaimed gesturing to Sibella.
Phoebe promptly covered her face and left the room. I didn't stop her.
"ADELBERT!" Lady Eugenia exclaimed, enraged at her husband's insensitivity and grievous mistake.
The night ended there for me, and so did my climb to Lordship. Never again did I feel the urge to kill Lord Adalbert D'ysquith, nor do I think I ever will. Phoebe and I are no longer engaged, but remain good friends. Nobody ever fully discovered the events of that night, nor any of the other nights I offed another D'ysquith. All the punishment I needed, was for the one love of my life, to be taken away from me, by my very own hand. On the day of her funeral, I didn't say a word to anyone. Not Lionel, not her parents, not Phoebe. I stood in the back, staring into the eyes of the portrait of her and watched as the black drape covered them forever. On her casket, I placed a single pink rose, her favorite flower.
My Sibella's last words were "Poor Monty", and forever will I be.