My Bratty Wife
Chapter 160 - Hundred And Sixty

Chapter 160: Chapter Hundred And Sixty

Cassandra, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the ballroom, turned to the only solace she could think of: wine. She began accepting glasses from passing waiters, the liquid burning a temporary path down her throat, a futile attempt to numb the pain in her heart.

Each glass was a desperate attempt to drown out the reality of her situation, the weight of her unwanted engagement. But the wine only amplified her despair, making her feel more suffocated, more trapped.

Feeling dizzy and disoriented, she stumbled out of the ballroom, gasping for fresh air. She needed to escape the noise, the music, the pitying glances. She wandered through the gardens, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the stifling heat of the ballroom. She finally found herself by a well, its stone rim cool against her burning skin. She sank to the ground beside it, the tears she had held back finally spilling over. She sobbed uncontrollably, the sound swallowed by the stillness of the night.

"The devil you know is better than the angel you don’t know," she whispered to herself, the familiar proverb offering little comfort. "How will I know he isn’t worse than Countess Helene? At least I know her cruelty. What if he’s even more... heartless?" She thought of her impending marriage, the gilded cage that awaited her. "I thought marriage would bring freedom," she choked out, "freedom from their... their disdain. Now, I’ll be trapped in a marriage where my family gains everything, and I... I gain nothing. I’m just... I’m just good for crying," she cried, her voice thick with self-loathing. "Why am I so useless?" Tears streams down her face. "Why am I so... weak?"

Suddenly, she heard a twig snap nearby. Startled, she looked up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Who’s there?" she called out, her voice trembling.

"It’s me, my lady," a familiar voice replied.

Cassandra recognized the voice instantly.

"Doris?" she exclaimed, relief washing over her. She struggled to her feet and ran towards the sound, her arms outstretched.

Doris emerged from the shadows, her face etched with worry. Cassandra rushed forward and embraced her tightly, both women dissolving into tears.

"Doris," Cassandra cried, "oh, Doris, I’m so glad you’re here."

Doris hugged her back, her own tears falling silently. "I’m so sorry, my lady," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. " I don’t want to do it, I have no choice."

Before Cassandra could respond, Doris suddenly pushed her, hard, towards the well. Cassandra gasped, her eyes widening in shock as she lost her balance and fell backwards, plunging into the dark depths of the well.

The cold water shocked her system, her breath catching in her throat. She thrashed against the sides of the well, her hands scrabbling for purchase on the slippery stones. "Help! Help me! Father, help me!" she screamed, her voice echoing in the darkness.

Doris remained at the well’s edge, her face a mask of anguish. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched Cassandra struggle in the water below. "I’m sorry, my lady," she sobbed, her voice barely audible. "Please... forgive me."

Cassandra continued to fight, her movements growing weaker with each passing moment. The water filled her lungs, making it harder to breathe. She knew she was drowning. As the darkness closed in, she managed to choke out one last word, a question that echoed the confusion and betrayal she felt. "Why?"

As everything turned black, a single thought echoed in her mind: "I hope... I will be happier... by your side... dear Lord?"

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Suzy’s eyes snapped open, her breath catching in her throat. She gasped, pulling in air as if she’d been underwater.

A sheen of sweat covered her forehead, trickling down her temples and soaking the fabric of her nightgown. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a wild drumbeat against the silence of the room.

She blinked, trying to clear the lingering haze of dream, her gaze darting around the unfamiliar surroundings. "Ryan?" she called out, her voice raspy and weak, unused to being spoken aloud. The room remained silent, the only sound the echo of her own voice.

A wave of confusion washed over her. She couldn’t quite place where she was, or how long she’d been there. "How long have I been on this bed?" she murmured to herself, her voice low.

Just then, the door to the room creaked open, and a young maid entered, carrying a tray of what looked like fresh linens. The maid stopped short, her eyes widening in surprise as she took in the sight of Suzy awake.

"Your Grace!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of shock and relief. "You’re awake!"

Suzy sat up slowly, her muscles stiff and aching. She leaned against the pillows, trying to gather her bearings. "Yes," she replied, her voice still rough. "I... I am." She looked around the room, taking in the elegant furnishings, the heavy drapes, the ornate details. It was clearly a room of wealth and status. It’s her’s and Ryan’s room. "Where’s my husband?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

The maid curtsied slightly. "His Grace is in his study, Your Grace. He was just here with you a few minutes ago, but Mr. Davis arrived with a message, and he went to attend to it immediately."

Suzy nodded slowly, trying to piece together the fragments of her memory. She vaguely recalled someone being there, a presence beside her, but the details were fuzzy. She turned her gaze to the window, looking out at the sprawling landscape beyond. "For how long have I been bedridden?" she asked, her voice a whisper.

The maid hesitated for a moment before answering. "Three days, Your Grace," she said softly. "You’ve been... unwell."

Three days. The words echoed in Suzy’s mind. Three days lost to her, shrouded in the fog of a dream. She felt a growing unease, a sense that something was not quite right. "Where’s Doris?" she asked, her voice gaining strength.

The maid’s expression shifted, a shadow of worry crossing her face. "She’s... she’s locked in her room, Your Grace," she replied, her voice low. "Along with all the other maids who have been attending to you."

Suzy’s eyes widened in surprise. "Locked in their rooms? Why?"

The maid wrung her hands nervously. "The... the doctor came a second time, Your Grace," she stammered. "And... and he confirmed that you’ve been poisoned. For some time now." The maid’s voice trembled slightly. "I don’t know all the details, Your Grace. His Grace... he ordered everyone who served you to be placed under house arrest. No one is allowed to leave the castle until the investigation is complete."

Poisoned. The word hit Suzy like a physical blow. She felt a chill run down her spine, a cold dread creeping into her heart. She looked at the maid, her eyes searching for answers. "Poisoned?" she repeated, her voice barely audible. "But... who would...?" The question hung in the air, unanswered.

Suzy took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. She knew she needed to remain calm, to think clearly. She couldn’t afford to panic. "Get me ready," she said, her voice firm despite the turmoil within her. "I need to speak with someone."