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Next chapter: Chapter 7
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... ever met. Do not try to think that by virtue of this kindness, you can climb over the social barriers and join our family. I, Annia, will not marry an incompetent husband and lose face.”

“Although you desperately imitate elegance and noblesse while pretending to be an aristocratic gentleman, you cannot hide away your roots in from of real aristocracy! Civilians are not nurtured from birth and lack noble blood. Practicing for a day or two cannot cover up your natural stature.”

Ann ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

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Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

……………………………………………………………

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