The crowd gasped, turning to Oleander.
“Liar!” Bellowed Oleander. “It was you! WITCH! You are NO Luna of mine!” He hissed.
The crowd turned back to me. They seemed more inclined to believe Oleander, their second prince but there would be no punishment. Alto had been greatly revered.
“You knew!” I cried, turning to the servant with the platter.
He trembled and in his eyes there was so much guilt. Tears streamed down his face.
“Admit it!” I shrieked. “Oleander prepared that cup with poison for me!” I screamed. “Alto drank it in my stead!”
The servant shook his head fervently. “No,” said the servant. “You prepared that cup for your husband. I saw you.”
I had never boiled with rage such as this. I shrieked and as I did, the servant was reduced to his very bones as his skin and flesh pea
