The Dandelion System

Chapter 30

The room was truly illuminated this time, with a dozen lanterns pointing at the figure, now crouching from the sudden blinding light. Two guards ran towards it and pulled the figure up by their arms.

The figure was much shorter and thinner in comparison to the tall and broad guards, but the cloak successfully obscured any hint of who they were and covered the whole head. Oda took a step closer to the figure, hands in fists.

"Under the Royal Family's order, you have been arrested for murder!" Her booming voice sent shivers down my back. This was it. We had captured the murderer.

"Remove the hood!"

Hands rose. There was a small cry. The hood of the cloak fell.

And then there was a loud scream.

No, there were countless screams, from the guards, the girls behind me, and the several observers who gathered, but there was only silence from Oda and I.

The face that looked back at us was a helpless one. It was a small face, with sunken eyes, red lips, and widened eyes lined with wrinkles.

Queen Sonota.

"Mother."

The word that left the princess has no feeling. Neither confusion, anger, or any emotion. It was an empty word, like the word held no meaning, and there was in fact no mother standing before her, in a black cloak being held up by two guards.

"The Queen!"

"It's the Queen?"

There was chaos behind us, and also next to me, but they seem to be drowned out.

"You are the murderer," Oda stated. Her voice was still monotonous. Dead.

The queen was the one who sneaked out each night, shrouded in dark, casting away her title of Queen, her crown and guards, just to kill the contestants in the Dandelion System.

The girls that would be wed to her son.

"Why?" Oda's voice grew louder, but the notes were still flat. "Why would you kill them?" Then her words became cries. "Why would you kill Tristesse and Lorna? Why would you kill Priscilla?!"

Priscilla.

Everyone's' eyes turned to the figure on the bed. There was the petite figure underneath the covers. Her eyes were partially closed and her jaw slack open.

She looked so much like Tristesse. She looked dead, just like her.

No. She was dead.

One of her arms hung out of the covers and reached for the floor, lifeless fingers pointing to the ground without words. Her brown hair spread out from her head like blood from a wound, but the wound was on her chest. The dark red flower on the silk cover kept blooming, and it seemed surreal that such a small body could hold so much blood. Even more surreal, not even a drop falls to the ground.

Dandelion seeds, once again, were scattered over her. They glistened like always. They glistened like they did in the box hidden in the walls of Otto's tower.

This was Priscilla's room. The target was Priscilla. And the victim was Priscilla.

I had ran—but there was nothing left for me to save.

Another one of us had died.

Sobs were heard amongst the girls. Low sobs and high sobs. Quick breaths and gasps. Hiccups and chattering of teeth. The sounds blended together as the guards moved to cover the gaping face with the covers, but we could still see the white hand reaching for the ground, the blue veins with their blood never reaching her heart.