Jeannett's delicate brows were creased in pain, fury and sorrow. She collapsed on the bed, breathing hard. The only sounds in the empty room were her desperate gasps and the shaky sobs wracking her slim body. However, the silence didn't carry through to her head, where chaos reigned. She pressed icy hands to her temples, hoping that coolness would rid her mind of that everlasting echo. It didn't.

"Mama." The lithe brunette's jaw was determinedly forward. Jeannett examined her daughter. A certain wryness overtook her features.

She gripped the frail arm with her jewel-adorned fingers, watching as the diamonds caught the light of the sun. "Child, do not cross me," she hissed. She had gotten too far to be stopped by a brat, even by her own brat.

Leanne's face was set, no emotion present to tell her mood by. She looked so much like her handsome father, like a panther about to pounce on its prey. She could almost see the ripple of muscle as it prepared to fly through the air.

"Mother, do not mock me."

Jeannett's heavily coated eyes soared to the sky. Precocious infant, she thought condescendingly, no memory stirring of her own spoilt youth. "I mock you because you are a silly baby, toying in affairs above your head."

"Then I'll take them to Papa again," Leanne returned, smugly.

Jeannett drew in a deep breath, chest rising with panic and falling with relief. If the child went to Numair, he'd know about Daine! Her reputation would be ruined! Well, she'd have to deal with Leanne.

"You won't have the chance to." Grimly, Jeannette's hold tightened and she dragged her protesting daughter to the cellar.

Jeannett's eyes closed, the carefully applied powder on her face ruined by the tracks of tears. "Why?" she asked, voice thumping inside her throat. "What made me so power-hungry, so desperate to be accepted in society?" Maybe that was her personality. Some people were just born to do something… No, no use blaming it on anyone else. That would never change the fact that it washer fault.

No amount of striving to please, pretty dresses or straight posture had taken her anywhere. Numair's friends had never been her friends. They had never given her a chance… or maybe she hadn't let them give her a chance.

She had blamed it all on Veralidaine. It had been easy to persuade herself that everyone hated her because a jealous Veralidaine was spreading spiteful rumours about their relationship.

But it hadn't been like that.

"And this is Lady Jeannett, a close friend of mine."

Numair Salmalin swept her an elegant bow. Jeannett fought a smile as his passionate shadowy eyes met hers. Later, she was to learn that the shadows were sore memories, sharp scars newly formed by his break-up with Daine. But now, she was an innocent, as fresh as the roses that lay carefully in the huge stone vases.

"Lady Jeannett, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance," he breathed, touching his lips on her rings.

She withdrew it, demurely casting her eyes on the floor. "I trust I have learnt more about your talents, for yours are far more far-reaching than my own pitiful claims."

A whisper reached her ears – "Not sure about that. She's probably well-known at the brothel."

Jeannett didn't even flick a glance at the remarker, merely opened her mouth into a smile. He would be hers.

Jeannett Salmalin, how grand that had sounded to begin with! Exotic, powerful… rich. She had thought that people would be open-mouthed with awe at hearing the name belonging to the wife of a black robe mage. She would have. Tortallans that mattered believed you had to get places by yourself, not hang on more deserving others. If only that had been clear from the beginning… Now she was trying to lay blame where none could be set down. It wasn't working.

"I'll do anything you want, I promise. I'll stay away from him forever. Just please… don't tear us apart."

Jeannett regarded the sharp point of the knife. "I want you out of the way forever."

The knife had been exhilarating to plunge through Veralidaine. The power of having life balanced in one's hands. The beauty of draining it away… Drop by drop. Weaker every second. The foe slowly ceased to have existence, to have a hold on living being's life. Or that's what she had thought.

"Numair, I'm sorry that I couldn't tell you I loved you, but I s'pose it'll have to wait 'till your own journey here." Veralidaine's vibrant blue-grey eyes, wild with the pain, turned her gaze to Jeannett's. "Tell Kitten to go back to her family. Family are the most important thing." She drew in a deep breath, her last breath ever. "Look after Numair."

Veralidaine had probably been trying to punish her. Yes, this whole façade was because she had killed Veralidaine. The thought gave no comfort.

"Mama, what are you doing?" Leanne's curious bark coloured eyes searched Jeannett as the lady fumbled with her pockets. Her voice held suspicion and the delicious tendrils of fear. She was right to be afraid. It would be the last emotion she had. She could hear the deep, calming breaths Leanne was taking. It didn't sound like they were working, and any effect they had on Leanne vanished when the steel object was visible. "Mama, put that down."

Jeannett stroked her precious knife. She felt so safe with it in her hand. Nothing could hurt her. She did the hurting. She caused the pain. "Now, darling, I love you, but you know something that I just can't let get around. So I'm going to silence you for eternity."

Leanne wrinkled her eyes up, taking Jeannett's measure. It was exactly what Veralidaine had done, sought out her weaknesses. Only, Jeannett had none. Except power, and a measly WildMage couldn't have offered her anything worth having. Nor, it seemed, could her daughter. But nothing kept her from trying. "I'll cast a silence spell on myself."

Jeannett had expected slightly more. "What? No 'please don't take my life'? No 'I love you, please let me live'? What about 'You're my mother, how can you kill me'?"

"Are these my doubts, or your own?" Leanne said evenly.

Jeannett realised why her daughter was so calm. "You don't think I can do it, do you? You don't think I have the nerve to carry it through." Leanne glanced at her. "I love your father. So, Leanne, I'm-"

"NO, YOU DON'T! DON'T GIVE ME THAT PATHETIC RUBBISH! YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH HIS POWER!"

Jeannett gazed at the child, incredulous. Fury curled around her body, swamping her in rage. She was angry now. She wanted blood. She stumbled forwards and the blade crashed into Leanne's heaving chest. Leanne let out a wail that rattled around Jeannett's head, a desperate, lonely cry of pain. She dropped to the stone floor, blood seeping out. Jeannett stood there.

That scream was what haunted her mind now. The never-ending anguish. Sorrow, loneliness, pain, fury, fear, all in one long sound.

The life had been ended.

The memory would live on in Jeannett Salmalin for eternity.

--

What did you think? Fantastic ending? No, thought not. I sort of lost it a bit. It was ok. Never mind. Check out Fickle Kisses, cos Raz's chapter is up. Oh, and visit it's brilliant. Join KCN if you haven't already (e-mail and Raz wants to set up a new club – Kill 'Della Now. Well, if she's offering…