The Pope's eyes narrowed as he pressed his hand against Alexander's chest. The yellow light turned a bright green. Searching with more of his magic, the face of Felicia Viviane Del Montague suddenly flashed across his mind.
Her disposition tinged with insanity and vengeful eyes exploding with red tears.
The light dimmed as he withdrew his hand.
So....you released a death curse upon your own brother. Ha! You must be the first Saintess to do so. This is very old magic. I failed to take it into consideration, but it makes perfect sense. Given how volatile you were during you execution, there was a high chance your magical expulsion would do damage even after your death. Your brother does not have long left. Even with my help, I can only slow down the effects of your death curse.
He will be dead soon. A few weeks at most.
The Pope glanced at the people around him.
It's best if I just tell them the truth. That way I don't have to listen to them whine afterwards.
"Your son is suffering from a curse that your witch daughter placed on him," The Pope stated, locking eyes with the Grand Duke.
The Duke's jaw dropped.
The others gasped.
All eyes flew to Alex's face.
"Wha..what does that mean?" Roelle stammered.
The Pope sighed pretending to be sympathetic even though he was secretly rejoicing over this man's continued losses. Matthew could simply never stop feeling bitter over the fact that Moniqua had chosen this weasel over him.
"This will be hard to process, I myself am shocked by the level of the witch's cruelty, as if all the harm she caused before her death was not enough, but the reality of what's happened to your son cannot be denied. Your unfortunate daughter struck your son with a death curse when she was being executed. He is trapped in the coils of very potent demonic magic." The Pope paused and looked down. "It pains me to say this given the losses you have already suffered through, but the your son is going to die. He will not surpass this month."
The solemn words struck like a temple gong. It vibrated through the air and echoed in the ears of all who heard it.
The Duke was paralyzed with shock.
He could not believe it. He wanted to ask the Pope to repeat himself. Surely he had misheard. He couldn't actually have just told him that his son was going to die. That made no sense. The curse on the Del Montague was dead.
Things were meant to be well from now on! What was this?! How could this possibly happen!?
His reverie was broken when the sounds of muffled crying filled his ears. Both Duchess Tyren and Lady Cordelia were sobbing.
Liam was too shocked to react.
Father Demetri was horrified. Was this the first punishment?
He stared hard at the Pope.
Though he doubted a lot the man said, he did not doubt this part.
Even so, he is still lying. He's lying about Lady Felicia being a witch. He lying about the nature of the magic at work.
This is the sacred death curse released by an aggrieved Saintess, not demonic magic.
The Goddess shed bloody because we executed the one she anointed.
And now the Young Duke has fallen fatally ill!
I suppose it makes sense that her brother would be first. The betrayal cuts deeper when it's family. Does this mean the Duke will die after his son?
Demetri's eyes snapped back to the blasphemer and he saw that the man was staring back at him just as hard.
Does he suspect I know?
He's clearly attempting damage control. He didn't make the wrong judgment, he deliberately called on the true Saintess to be killed so his ruse with Helena would not be challenged.
So he would not be challenged.
"Pope!" The Duke suddenly reached down and grabbed the holy father by his collar. "You must do something! You must save my son! This cannot be! I cannot lose him as well!"
The Pope was annoyed by the grip, but maintained his serene facade.
"I know this is a heavy blow, your grace, but there is nothing I can do." He opened his palms in helplessness. "Killing the witch was the only way to halt her demonic prowess, yet it would appear that wretched woman went even further with her wickedness." He placed his hand over the Duke's. "Your daughter is simply too evil for me to comprehend. And it would appear she was determined to do as much harm to her family as she could. I do not know what else there is to say...." The Pope's words trailed off as he turned his head to the side and even managed to squeeze out some tears.
The Duke desperately shook his head. "No! You cannot say that to me! You are the Pope! You have holy powers! How can you say that you cannot save him!?" His voice had risen and he was shaking the Pope violently.
The Pope pried the man's hands off of him and stood up. "I am deeply sorry. Despite my powers, there are some forces which even I can't overpower. I am only a Pope, not a Goddess."
Tyren dropped to her knees and grabbed Alex's hands. "Then what can we do!? Can we not help him at all!?"
"I'm afraid the best we can do is lower his pain so he will pass peacefully. Have Helena tend to him continuously." Matthew fixed his robes. "And pray for him. I will also pray for him. We must all beseech the Goddess to save this innocent soul from the evil which has befallen him."
The Pope looked at Demetri. "Stay with them until he wakes up."
Demetri nodded, his eyes trailing the man as he left the room.
The Duke's head snapped back and forth between the closed door and his son's face. Hus entire body shook from the force of his emotions!
Liam covered his face with his hand. "Dear Goddess, Alex! What was wrong with your sister!? Why must she take it this far!?"
He pulled his crying sister into his embrace. "I'm so sorry."
Liam's heart bled. Not just for the Duke and his family, but also for his little sister. He knew Cordelia was deeply in love with Alex and wished to marry him.
Now she'd have to bid him goodbye in a month.
They all would.
They were all so overwhelmed with their grief and shock that they didn't even realize that Helena was now standing at the door.
And she was crying in the arms of an equally devastated Prince Constantine.