Kathryn sat on a small couch seat opposite the doors to Portia's rooms, her face white and wringing her hands anxiously. She was a nervous wreak. Soon after Andrew had found them, he had carried Portia back in his arms, Kathryn leading his horse, while riding her own. Portia's horse was nowhere to be found.
Stephan and Emily had been stunned to see their daughter being carried in, unconscious by a stable hand and their niece following them, her face chalk white. Portia had been carried to her room and the healer had been called. He had arrived soon after and had immediately gone to Portia's rooms, where Stephan and Emily already were. When Kathryn had tried to go in, she had been refused.
That had been an hour ago. Kathryn began to pace, wondering frantically what was going on. While she went back and forth her mind wandered. Now that she was actually thinking clearly, it seemed to be silly to think she had caused the cyclone. How on earth could she have? Then she remembered her uncle's words: her mother had had magic.. and he thought she had too. Portia had thought so too. Kathryn's mind raced. Could it be true? Could she have magic? She glanced at the closed doors. If so, it was a destructive magic. Was it one she *wanted?*
The doors opened and Kathryn meet the grief-stricken eyes of her uncle. Numb grief filled her. "She's dead isn't she?" she asked horsely, tears prickling her eyes. Even though she hadn't *liked* Portia much, she had still been her cousin and despite her faults, hadn't deserved to die like she had. *No one* deserved to die like that. Kathryn shivered.
"Before she died, she told me what happened." Kathryn froze, slowly looking up at her uncle, the twinges of nervousness creeping in. Her uncle's eyes suddenly turned hard. "She said you caused the cyclone. The cyclone that killed her."
"I don't know what happened!" Kathryn cried. "All I knew was that suddenly I was sick and then a cyclone came up! I don't know *how* it happened!" To her dismay and embarrassment, tears began to fall from her cheeks. For possibly the first time since she had come here, she was showing real emotion in front of her uncle.
"I do not believe that," her uncle replied, his voice emotionless. Kathryn, who had stared down at the floor when the tears had began, looked up and panic swam through her. In her uncle's eyes she could see grief, the grief for his dead daughter. And anger.. hatred - for her. And possibly some madness. He truly did not believe her. Kathryn felt her knees weaken and prayed she would be able to stand for a little while longer.
"Then you are not my uncle," she answered softly, looking down at the floor again. "I do not know how that cyclone started. I'm not even sure it was me. But what I do know was that I would never readily kill Portia, no matter what she said. And I do not have magic!"
Stephan looked down sharply. "What did you say?" When she did not answer, he continued, his voice deadly soft. "You really believe that, don't you? Well let me say this: you do have magic and what you have done will haunt you for the rest of your life." Kathryn still didn't answer.
"You're no longer welcome here," he said pleasently, after a moments silence, with a malicious smile. "We are sending you to Broken Circle Temple. If you ever come back to my lands, I'll have you killed. Understand?" Kathryn nodded dumbly, not trusting herself to speak or look at him.
"Well," he said, turning. "I'm glad we got this over with. I can't say I'm not glad to see you go. You've been trouble from the start." Without a backward glance at her, he walked away, leaving her alone.
She turned once, to stare at Portia's closed doors, not leading the way to the chamber holding her dead cousin. With a choked sob, her knees buckled one last time and this time she fell to the ground, unable to stop. Letting her face fall into her hands, she felt her shoulders shake as she beagn to cry properly...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Kathryn sat on her bed, eyes wide, yet listless, as she stared up at the ceiling. Swallowing at last, she got up and walked over to the nearest window. If she strained her eyes hard enough, she could just see the edge of the crowd gathered around her relations' vault, where Portia's coffin was being lowered into. She knew what the formation would be like. Her aunt and uncle would be closet to the vault, wearing black of course. Important people associated with them would be next. Important servants would be next and the normal servants and the people who worked on her uncle's lands would be at the end, who Kathryn could now see.
She had not been allowed to come.
Kathryn sighed, turning away. In the few days that had passed since Portia's death, her relations reactions to her had changed dramatically. Stephan, she felt at times, wished to kill her, and she kept away from him as much as possible. Emily, was the opposite to Stephan. While he radiated anger, she radiated grief. Anytime Kathryn met her, the look she gave her was one of pity and disappointment, disappointment beyond belief. It made Kathryn guilty a lot more than Stephan's words had. And of course there was the fact he had thrown her out. That, at least, had made an impact.
What Kathryn couldn't figure out, was why nothing had been put against her. No warning or anything. Finally, she had figured it out. There was no proof. No proof that Kathryn had done anything to Portia. She had no marks, no bruises, no cuts. Only the snapped neck. And Kathryn hadn't been strong enough to do that.
She got the feeling Stephan would have dearly loved to have seen her in jail, for murdering his daughter, but there had been no proof, his word meant nothing. There had been no witnesses. The stable hand had only said that Kathryn had been distraught at her cousin's death (that much at least, was true) and they had all decided that there would have been no way Kathryn would have been the cause of her cousin's death. Much to Kathryn's relief and Stephan's fury.
The funeral was over. Kathryn could hear the sounds, the quiet mumurs of the people as they broke up and walked away from the vault. She walked back to the window and peered out of it. Only Stephan and Emily remained, heads bowed, facing the vault their daughter was now in. Kathryn felt her heart wrench, and she turned away. Suddenly, she couldn't wait to leave.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Kathryn sighed and pulled up her legs until they were tucked in and her feet were on the seat. She let her head fall onto her knees, and wished this journey to Stone Circle was over. She couldn't really wait to leave.
Stephan and Emily hadn't seen her off. She hadn't expected them to, they hated her now, loathed her. They'd be overjoyed to see her go. They'd be glad to see the back of her for good. As Kathryn would be glad to see the last of them.
She looked up as a young man, only one or two years older than she was, climbed in and sat opposite her. She opened her mouth to greet him, but noticed he avoided her gaze. Kathryn scowled. Well *fine*, she thought sourly. I won't talk to you either! She decided to look out the window instead. That was a mistake.
Stephan was by the doors. He met her gaze levelly and Kathryn shuddered as his eyes burned with hatred. For her. She quickly looked away, as the carriage took off. Kathryn leaned back into the seat. This was it. No turning back now. Her old life was gone, gone forever. She couldn't get it back. It had fled completely the moment Portia had died. There was only her new life now. Whatever it was going to be. Whatever was going to happen.
But she would face it all, face whatever was going to be thrown at her. There was nothing else to do. She was alone now, only she could make herself survive. Her entire family had disowned her. She had no one, no one to talk to, or depend on. And she swore she would never again show weakness. Never again depend on anyone for anything.
And Kathryn left what she had been, what she had supposed to be.
Now there was only the future. What she was going to be.
