something to focus on even though I'm behind on my own work as it is. It's a distraction, but not enough to keep my thoughts from wandering to my wife.
I have not been to see her in two days. Not since I locked her up in her room and barricaded any incoming light, leaving her with the solace of only a couple of candles. Antonia has been instructed to keep her closet locked, and she is to remain naked and broken for me. But I suspect when I see her again, there will undoubtedly be defiance from her as always. And I am already thinking of new ways to punish her for those future sins.
A knock on the door startles me from my thoughts, and when I glance up, Mercedes is there. Her face is drawn, and she's usually in bed by this late hour, but it seems she is still not any less rattled by the events that transpired at the gala.
"Can I come in?" she asks.
"Since when do you require permission?" I smirk, but she does not seem to notice my sarcasm.
Something is bothering her, but I haven't been able to determine what it is. She's been quiet and closed off. We sit at the dinner table together in the evenings, me drinking, and her going through the motions of eating, but it’s obvious she's not really here. Her thoughts seem to be plagued by something else, and I am not quite certain how to deal with such a situation.
She enters the room and sits in the chair that Angelo vacated earlier. Her hair is braided back, her face scrubbed clean of the usual makeup she wears. And when I see her this way, it is a stark reminder she is still young and naïve in many ways, despite what she’d like everyone else to believe.
"Tell me what's on your mind." I close the folder on my desk and secure it in my locked drawer before returning my attention to her.
Mercedes shrugs one shoulder, wrapping her cardigan tightly around herself like a cocoon even though it's not chilly in the room. "Too much to put into words."
"Don't play coy with me," I reply. "You came here for a reason, and you've been moping around The Manor since you’ve been home. I can't help you if I don't know what the issue is."
She bounces one leg, a nervous habit I haven't seen since she was a child, and our father sought to break her of it. A De La Rosa can never show vulnerability. That's what he told us. We all took it to heart, but I will never punish Mercedes for showing her true self to me.
"It’s just hard to stop thinking about everything that happened," she says quietly. "Do you believe The Tribunal will ever have concrete proof?"
"It doesn't matter if they have concrete proof," I tell her. "It is ultimately up to me since I am alive, and I am her husband. I could feed her to the wolves, or I can handle it myself. You already know my chosen course. We will go through the motions of the trial because Ivy deserves every ounce of fear it will instill in her. But I am her true judge, jury, and executioner."
My sister nods and swallows, dipping her head as she seems to consider something. “No mercy. That’s what Father always used to say. I suppose that is the De La Rosa motto.”
A chill moves over me when it occurs to me she’s comparing me to him, but I don’t acknowledge it. I can’t.
"So, you will... end her." Her voice wavers slightly, and she clears her throat. "When?"
Her sudden lack of enthusiasm on the subject is strange, considering how she salivated over the idea before. "Why do you care?"
She shifts in her seat, glancing at the flickering flame of the candle on the end of my desk. "I don't, of course. I was just wondering."
"You needn't worry." I meet her gaze. "I know you felt I was wavering in my regard before, but I can assure you, I hold no humanity in my heart for any Moreno. Particularly one who poisoned me. She will be dealt with accordingly."
Mercedes jerks her chin in agreement, but she doesn't appear to be placated by my assurances. It's unlike her to withhold her thoughts, and I don't know if I should be concerned about her welfare. Or perhaps Judge really did begin to tame her bratty ways.
She stands up and drifts