"No…" Rosella whispered at first, cupping her open mouth.
Then she screamed at the top of her voice like someone struck by lightning.
"NO!"
She rushed to the bin and fell to her knees, both hands stretched towards it, staring down at the curling ash as if willing it to revert to its original form.
Tears of horror streamed down her widened eyes, and for a second, it felt as though the walls of the room were caving in on her.
The servant standing behind her stared helplessly at her and at the bruised old man, grinning devilishly, as words fell between them.
One of them even tried to put out the flame, but the damage had already been done. There was nothing left to salvage but ashes.
"You..." Rosella finally snapped her head up, her darkened gaze shifting to the old patriarch still grinning wickedly at her. She slowly stood, moved, and moved menacingly toward him. "What have you done?" she growled in a demented voice.
