If I Can’t Have Him, No One Can

Delilah stood beside one of the buffet tables, her cheeks red with rage. “No!” she screamed again, stamping her foot for emphasis. “It isn’t right. She’s a servant—Cinderella, my mother’s kitchen rat. She’s a no one; it’s my mother who is the rightful Lady Ashworth.”

The entire ballroom fell silent, and the excitement of a moment ago diminished to an uncomfortable hush.

“I won’t have it!” yelled Delilah. She pushed into a nearby waiter who had been carving a large ham, snatching the knife out of his hand.

Shocked, he made a grab for her, but she was already barrelling across the ballroom as fast as her long blue skirts would allow. The guests gasped in confusion, stunned and terrified, as they were roughly pushed aside, backing away from this hellion who was unrecognisable as a lady of quality.

“If I can’t have him, no one can!” she screeched, and before anyone could comprehend what was happening, she threw herself towards Prince Séamus and plunged the knife into him, just below his heart. She pulled it out, dropping it to the floor and staggering backwards, horror written all over her face.

For one moment, he stood statuesque, then slowly crumpled to his knees as scarlet blood seeped between his fingers.

“No!” wailed Eleanora. “No, no, no, Shay, stay with me.” She threw herself to her knees, catching him and lowering him to her lap, trying to stem his blood with her own hands. “Don’t leave me, Shay. I need you. I love you. I can’t live in this world without you.” Her head snapped up, her gaze finding Delilah. “Why do you hate me so? What have I ever done to you?”

The King and Queen fell to their knees at either side of their son, both of them sobbing along with Eleanora as Shay’s eyes fluttered closed.

Eleanora fell across him. Her best friend, the only man she ever loved, had been stolen away by her stepsister. The tips of her hair began to glow with a lick of phoenix flame as her tears poured into his wound.