Marceline felt her hands turn wet because of the dripping blood from her nose. "What is wrong with you?!" she demanded in shock.
It resulted in the woman named Delia punching Marceline one more time and the young vampiress lost her balance with her wooden foot, to end up falling flat on her bottoms.
Some people in the hall had moved aside to give the two women space.
Marceline looked back and forth and shouted for help, "Where are the guards? Guards! This woman is crazy!" On another note, how could this human's punch hurt her this much? Was it because she hadn't drank blood for a long time now, and it had resulted in her body to turn weak?
But no guards appeared to help her, and she glared at Delia with her bloody nose, "Why are you hitting me? I just told you I am happy to see you!"
"It is because of you that I am here, and you dare say that you are happy to see me?" Delia questioned Marceline, feeling her knuckles numb yet throb. "What did I do to you!? You were lonely and I was your friend. I was kind to you, and you turned on me, you bitch!"
Marceline tried to feign ignorance and save her face by saying,
"I do not know what you are talking about, Delia. This is just some misunderstanding that we can sit down and talk. Yes?" Maybe if the woman was looking the other side, she would punch the human back this time, the vampiress thought in her mind, while she carefully stood up.
Delia looked furious and said, "You lied to me. You betrayed and broke my trust." And Marceline rolled her eyes as if she didn't know what the woman was talking about. The human said in anger, "When Arad wrote letters to me, I thought he loved me, and I loved him back. I opened my closed heart to him and my soul... only to realise that he never wrote any letters to me. It was you, who wrote the letters to me in his name. You acted as if you were my friend, while exploiting my emotions and lying. As if that wasn't enough, you couldn't see me happy and when I was thriving in society, you circulated false stories that I slept with men, writing the same to my family and you knew they would never tolerate it. They were ashamed and left me here. And you dare ask, what you did?"
Marceline kept a straight face and responded, "I never did such a thing, Delia. It isn't my fault that Arad turned into a coward and decided not to meet you."
The human clenched her hands, turning it into tight fists, and she did it first before Marceline could land a blow at her. Marceline fell to the ground for the second time.
"Argh!" Marceline felt her face throb in pain.
"You are a liar through and through," Delia stepped forward, bending down, she pulled one of Marceline's legs, which was the wooden leg, and it came out.
"Stop it, you crazy woman!" Marceline shouted with her eyes wide.
When the human woman realised it was an artificial leg, she stared at Marceline before breaking it in half and threw it across the other side of the hall.
"You bitch!" Marceline turned hysterical, where her poised composure slipped and her true self came out.
"You are so used to pulling down others to keep yourself at the front, it is time for you to sit back. Don't you ever dare to play with anyone's emotions and trust," Delia stood up and then added, "I doubt anyone will ever hand their trust to you, for the vile and cruel person you are."
Delia left the place, reaching the other side of the table, before she started to eat her meal. Marceline felt the continuous eye on her, making her uncomfortable because of her state. When she tried to get up by using the help of a nearby bench, one person pushed her hand and went back to sit on the ground, hearing snickers pass around the room.
ραпdα Йᴏνêl(сòm) Marceline noticed the blonde man, who sat at the end of the table whom she had met yesterday. The person held a sneer mixed with a smile when their eyes met, before he went back to eating his food.
"I thought she was here by mistake, but look at that. She seems to have quite some reputation," one of them mockingly laughed.
"Aren't we all like that, people with masks? To think she was calling herself to be a Moriarty, what a shame," said a nearby woman with a gruff voice. "I have seen her brother, mhmm. He's a handsome man."
"Are you planning to sit here all day? Move!" Someone commented from behind, and Marceline quickly moved to one side, while her face turned hot as people continued to bad mouth her before ignoring her.
Marceline took a lot of effort as every time she tried to stand up, someone came to push her or make her trip. Not to mention, it was hard to walk with only one leg. But the reality of not having a personal physician here to fix her leg turned her angrier.
Everyone knew she had lost her leg.
"Calm down," Marceline consoled herself. "Only a little more time." Only a little more time before her father would come here and take her out of there. Then she would be the one laughing at these idiot women and men.
She hopped until she finally came to the place where her broken wooden leg was lying on the ground. But it was further broken into two more pieces, and she wanted to scream her frustration out! How could this happen to her? She was a pureblooded vampiress!
Far away from the hall where the people were having their food, which was moderately better than what was served to their rooms, the guard who had taken the folded parchment from Marceline, entered the room to the higher person in this place.
"What is that?" Questioned the man behind the desk with a dull expression on his face. His black hair covered part of his golden eyes, while the other side of his hair was combed back.
"Another letter from one of the occupant," the guard informed the man and handed the letter to him.
The Head person took hold of the letter, turned it around, and said, "This is a recent occupant. Marceline Moriarty." He didn't bother to look at the contents inside it, and handed it back to the guard and said, "You know what to do with it."
The guard nodded, taking the folded parchment, he walked to the fireplace in the room before throwing it into it like the many other letters he had been handed to give to the family members.
"Sire, why not tell them that they aren't allowed to write letters?" The guard asked because the occupants were unnecessarily wasting their time and ink.
"Because it is more fun and torturous, making them wait for a hope that will never come," the Head person of the place answered with a sly smile.
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