The rain fell in sheets over the Lavender estate, washing the stone paths but unable to wash away the red. The night smelled of iron and wet earth. Marco stood at the footsteps of the gates, swaying slightly, his body bruised and his clothes drenched in crimson. He looked paralyzed, his eyes wide and unseeing, staring straight ahead as if the world had stopped turning.
Colden burst from the shadows of the estate, sprinting toward the gate, his heart hammering against his ribs. He saw Marco standing there—broken, battered, covered in blood—and for a single, suffocating second, the world stopped.
"It's fucked," Colden whispered to himself, the realization hitting him like a physical blow.
He rushed forward, grabbing Marco's shoulders, frantic. "Whose blood is this?" he asked, his voice cracking. "Marco? Whose blood is this?"
Marco looked at him, his eyes swimming with guilt. He opened his mouth, but no words came out—just a broken gasp as the memory replayed in his mind.
Just moments ago, Marco had been running for his life. Austin's retainer had stepped out from the darkness, a blade raised, ready to strike. Marco had frozen, his legs refusing to move. But then a figure threw themselves in front of him.
Viremont.
The blade had swung, slicing deep, and the blood sprayed hot and violent all over Marco's face and chest. He had stood there, stunned, as Viremont staggered but stayed standing, shielding him with the last of her strength. Francis had charged from the side then, his sword flashing, driving the blade through the retainer's chest and kicking the body aside. But the damage was done. Viremont had collapsed, and the scream that tore through the night belonged to Elaine.
Elaine rushed forward, sliding onto the wet stones, pulling Viremont's head into her lap. "No, no, no—Mother! Stay calm! Just stay calm!" she cried, her hands pressing against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding that wouldn't stop. "Please, breathe!"
Viremont's eyes fluttered, her breathing shallow and bubbling. She reached up with a trembling hand, touching Elaine's hair which had fallen loose from its pins—bright red in the moonlight.
"I didn't realize... ever," Viremont whispered, her voice fading like a dying ember. "That your hair was pure red... Red like the roses."
"Please, Mother, don't—" Elaine choked out, tears streaming down her face.
Viremont squeezed her hand weakly. "Take care... and never not be yourself. I love you."
Her hand went limp in Elaine's hair. Her eyes closed. The Lioness of House Wood was gone.
Elaine shattered. "Mother? Mother! No—somebody help! Somebody help her!" she screamed, her voice cracking with hysteria, refusing to believe what her hands already knew. She tried to shake her awake. "Wake up! Please!"
Carmine dropped to her knees beside Elaine, wrapping her arms around her, holding her back. "She's gone, Elaine," Carmine whispered, her own tears mixing with the rain. "She's gone. I'm here. I'm here."
"I have to get her to a doctor—somebody help!" Elaine cried, struggling against Carmine.
"She's gone," Carmine said, holding her with all her might, anchoring Elaine to the earth as her world fell apart. "I've got you. I've got you."
Marco stood a few feet away, devastated, his body trembling. He looked at the blood on his hands—the blood of the woman who had saved him. Francis placed a hand on his shoulder, his face grim but kind.
"Go on," Francis told him softly. "Colden must need you."
Marco looked back one last time, his heart breaking for Elaine, for Jeremy, for his mother, for everyone the world had taken from him. Then he turned and ran toward the gate, stumbling, bruised, but moving forward.
The ride home was silent. The carriage jostled over the dark roads, the storm outside matching the turmoil inside. Elaine sat in a separate carriage, her hand pressed against the window, staring at nothing. She had told Carmine she needed space, but the truth was, she felt untethered—adrift in a world that kept taking pieces of her. Carmine sat beside her anyway, silent, a steady presence in the dark.
In the other carriage, Colden held Marco's hand tightly, his thumb tracing the knuckles that were still stained with blood.
"I want to announce us," Colden said softly, breaking the silence. He looked at Marco, his eyes searching for a glimmer of hope in the dark. "I've been thinking... I want to become something big for my people. So—"
He hesitated, looking at Marco with a fragile hope in his eyes.
Marco swallowed hard, the weight of the night pressing down on him, the image of Viremont falling flashing in his mind. He squeezed Colden's hand back.
"We can think about it," Marco whispered.
SEASON-2 THE END .....
THANK YOU
Thank you for reading SEASON-2. This story has been a journey of life, of love, of loss, and of finding the courage to be known.
Season Two has ended, but the story is far from over. I am thrilled to announce that
Season Three has been renewed !
. The next season will answer many of the questions we've planted along the way, and it will be a massive step up for the characters you've come to love.
The lioness is gone, but the storm is just beginning. See you in Season Three.