But who to frame? The question gnawed at her mind even after she had cleaned herself up, but not the scene or the dagger, knowing very well that she had to blame somebody else. There was no chance to stage an accident or suggest that it was suicide. There was just too much evidence that pointed towards the contrary in both cases, and besides, it was not like she could have run him over with a train or something. Somebody had to take the fall for it.

And who better than Amanda Collins? It was pitiful, of course, especially after she had pardoned her, hoping that the wretched woman and her sister might find a better life, but now, she realised that there was no better fate for them. Their past would haunt them forever, no matter how hard they tried to escape it. She had forgiven them, but most people hadn't. They were so unforgiving, and it was not like they were completely at fault, either. They merely didn't know them as well as Melinda did.

She reconsidered, thinking that surely, there must be a less painful path for her to take. But there wasn't. She couldn't frame Susanne or Lydia or any other jealous noblewoman. They would have gone for her, not him, not knowing that she was now immortal thanks to Hemingway's book, which would result in a rather awkward situation. They simply held the King in too high a regard, despite all his faults. After all, none of them were any better than him and were often much worse.

She then thought of framing a nobleman, saying that he wanted to marry her and become King, thinking of Douglas as an obstacle to be cleared, but it was only a few who were not married already, so even if they had those most ghastly intentions, their wives would be too much of a burden for their plans, and it was too drastic of a step for those few who were not yet married.

But what about the revolutionaries? Well, there lay an even bigger problem. The revolutionaries, for the most part, hated the concept of a monarchy as a whole and wanted a democracy, which made things really complicated. There were still revolutionaries who might do such a thing, but she would have to scour for any one of them hard, and given that none of them held much public sway, it was a stupid thing to try with such little time.

So Amanda it was, unfortunately. She had always hated the King, so it wasn't unjustified, either. Besides, most people knew her as nothing more than Hemingway's trusted lieutenant, so it seemed like something that she would do in the public eye. It was the perfect alibi.

With those formidable plans boiling darkly in her head, she knocked gently on Amanda's door, startling her. Amanda was immensely joyful to see her, bowing down to her immediately, but Melinda reminded her that she didn't need to do so as a friend.

"So, why have You come to visit me, Your Majesty?" she asked politely just before Melinda pulled a crowbar out of a pocket on her dress, knocking her unconscious before she could say or do anything else.

A few hours later, she woke up in a daze, having no idea where she was. She looked around to get a good grasp on her surroundings, and the room which she soon managed to recognise was all too familiar to her. The black curtains, the oak desk and chair, the ebony bookshelf with a bunch of dull tomes, the bloody corpse of her King... The bloody corpse of her King!

Who would do that? Who had the gall to do so? She hated him, but this... This was way too far. He didn't deserve this grisly end. But then, she felt a metallic object in her hand, and it made her realise something else...

She was being framed.

What an undignified move, she thought, trying not to roll her eyes. Of course the perpetrator would frame her. She was always the scapegoat when something went wrong. How dull and obvious.

Try harder, you cad, she thought, seething with anger. Stop mocking me.

She could practically hear the villain laughing at her in her head, despite having no idea who they were. She could hear them laughing at her weakness and helplessness. She was all but powerless in this situation because no one would believe her. No one but the Queen. The Queen was always kind and forgiving. She would understand.

And then, out of nowhere, the Queen herself entered the study blithely, her happiness devolving into sheer terror as she saw the bleeding corpse of her husband, screaming hysterically. The Queen, although much better off than her, has been scarred for life, and now, she couldn't even imagine being in her place. So many bad things have happened to her lately. Even though she had always been slightly jealous of her, she pitied her all the same. Poor Melinda, though Amanda knew very well it would have angered her to hear her thoughts.

"That was a good scream, right?" the Queen asked Amanda nonchalantly, horrifying her. 

"You..." Amanda stammered, taking a step back. "You are the one who murdered him..."

Melinda let out a heavy sigh. "Yes, it was I who murdered Douglas. It was a huge sacrifice for me. But isn't that what you wanted? Division within the monarchy?"

"Not like this..." Amanda responded, completely and utterly disgusted by her behaviour. "You're becoming just like... You know."

"Slow down there, friend," Melinda said sternly, prepared to explain everything. "I am nothing like that man. I have always fought for freedom and justice, and it will always remain that way."

"Why are you enslaving my kind, then? Doesn't that make you a-" Amanda interjected before being cut off.

"As you know, times have been hard," Melinda continued. "Our power has weakened, our people have gone mad, and our economy has been devastated. We must rebuild everything as soon as we can, lest there be a revolution. Douglas, God bless his soul, was not fit for the task. I am Lord Achten's ward, and I am all too familiar with the secrets of the universe, and it has given me the blessing to rule this country as I see fit."

"No, it hasn't," Amanda spat. "This selfish and merciless action makes me dread your rule. I'm sure you have your reasons, but from the outside, you look evil and bloodthirsty. You have committed several atrocities already, giving into your darker nature, and surely you were the one who killed Jeffrey as well."

"How do you know that?!"

"Pattern recognition."

"Anyway," Melinda said, getting mad at her. "I'm disappointed with you, Amanda. I thought you would know better. This is not a fairytale where the evil queen murders the good king for petty reasons. I had to do this. It pained me immensely to do this, as it pains me to have to frame you, but there was nobody else to frame."

"Yes, of course, whatever you say..." Amanda said dryly.

"This is not a selfish bid for power," Melinda said desperately, refusing to give up. "He found out everything I had tried to hide and threatened to reveal the information to the public and lock me up in an insane asylum. I couldn't let that happen. If I didn't act on time, my life would have been ruined, and who would have replaced me? Susanne? Lydia? Jane? Do you understand what I'm getting at?"

"You are literally evil," Amanda said bluntly, having no idea how someone could be so delusional, and Melinda released another heavy sigh, finally giving up.

"What was that noise?" Susanne wondered as she strolled around the hallway before returning to the Royal Court. "I swear I heard something a few minutes ago. Melinda must be plotting something again. It is none of my business, though. However, I will be sure to stop her if she's planning anything. She can't keep getting away with this."

"Guards!" she shouted after hearing her, realising she hadn't reacted for a few minutes now, looking frantically around the empty hallway. "My husband has been murdered! Come here now! Guards!"

"You will pay for this..." Amanda whispered angrily under her breath a few moments later as the guards dragged her away, looking hatefully at the Queen one last time.

Around the gallows, many people were gathered on the benches, staring sternly at the scene. Illuminated by the bright sunlight as birds and butterflies sang and flew around her, Amanda stood helplessly above the judgmental crowd, a group of guards forcing her to approach the rope before the executioner could tie it swiftly around her neck.

She'd never seen him before, but due to a momentary glimpse, she could see that he was tall, grim and strong, the latter of which came to be very clear to her when, after the rope had been twisted into a knot around her neck, he tied it a little more tightly, after which her face started to become blue because of all the pain that she was feeling, and it was obvious that he was being restrained at the time.

"We have come here today to hang a traitor of the Crown," he said in a booming voice. "She has been found guilty of the murder of the King in the name of Patrick Hemingway, and now she'll get all the justice that she deserves. Before she hangs, is there anyone who'd like to say anything about it?"

Amanda looked at the crowd from all sides, and even though it was exactly what she'd been expecting, she was overwhelmed by the hatred that came from most of their eyes. The Queen stared at her with cold, emotionless neutrality; Maria stared at her with pity, and Theresa stared at her with uncertainty, as if she had a feeling that it wasn't her, but also no idea who else it could've been. Everyone else expressed hatred, even her little sister, Cecilia, whom she'd sacrificed as much as she could for. Maybe it was a trick of the light or a mere act. With a fleeting hope, she waved at Cecilia energetically just to make sure.

No answer came, but the stare of contempt remained.

"It is time then. Let justice be done upon her," the executioner said, strangling her with the rope, using all the force in his body.

As her surroundings were overcome by the black curtain of Death, she looked at the crowd one last time, just to see if something had changed. Not much had changed, especially not the hatred that came from all the strangers, along with her sister, and also not the emotions written on Maria and Theresa's faces, but, as she released her last painful breath, she saw in the Queen's eyes the gleam of something she couldn't have imagined to see.

Guilt.

With a solemn expression, Melinda walked up to Douglas's parents after everyone else had left and Amanda's body had been taken care of, staring right into their souls. "I know how harrowing this must be for you. Your son was killed the day before, and now you have had a hanging, which is never good, no matter the circumstances. 

You need some time to grieve in peace and solitude, especially now that the Crown does not belong to you any longer. I heard you bought a weekend house in Eade last year, and I am sure it would be nice for you to stay there as long as you need to, away from the cruelties of the world in a place of wealth and beauty. Do not worry about anything. The Crown is in my hands now."

"Thank you, dear daughter," said Seraphina, shaking her hand. "You are in the right. There is no reason to worry about anything now that the throne is yours. Thank you in advance for everything you will have to do for the period of time in which we are not here, no matter its length. We will make sure to have a good time in Eade, and we will write to you whenever we can. Good luck, and good times to you as well."

"Thank you. Farewell," Melinda said with a frown, crying to herself the moment they were gone, heading back into the palace before anyone could see her.