Marked ? Tom Riddle

His Perspective

The Dark Lord frowned, staring at the key that lay before him on his desk, mocking him. He absolutely hated not knowing things, he prided himself on knowing things, and for something to have occurred within the walls of his own home without his knowledge truly displeased him. Just how had she done it... how had that wretched whore of a woman Mila found the exact key that led to his journal library? 

   "Blasted woman," he murmured, snatching the key off the desk and walking towards the mantle of the stone fireplace that resided inside his office. The portrait that hung over the mantle was plain, intentionally so - a muted scenery of a snake, a basilisk. Something that would suit his office, but would not draw any unwanted attention. As Tom stepped before the portrait, the snake slithered to life. 

   "Password," it hissed in parseltongue. 

   "Ambrose," the Dark Lord answered. The snake slithered back into its lifeless state and the portrait slowly swung open. Inside, a key box lined with identical keys that led into the forbidden rooms of the west wing sat mounted into the stone wall, all of them accounted for except for the one in his hand. 

   He thought he'd been smart enchanting the locks on the doors in the third corridor of the west wing so that no other force except the magic of his keys could open them. However smart he thought he'd been, he had been played for a fool by that godforsaken woman and he had no one to blame but himself. He'd grown comfortable in the luxury of his own home and allowed his defenses to fall, a mistake he would not make again. With a sigh, he placed the stolen key into its rightful place and pushed the portrait shut. 

   It felt good to know everything was back where it belonged; his recovered journal back in the library, the stolen key back in its key box, and Mila in hell. Still, it irked him to not know the exact details of how she had gotten her slimy hands on the key, to begin with, but he had his theories. 

   After he had uncovered Karina's foolish plan to rescue the woman, he had made sure to kill her instantly and inspect the room in which he had locked her. Behind the bed, he had found a small hole big enough to crawl through that led into the inner workings of the house. The woman had carved through the cement which held the stone bricks, removing them one by one until she had found means of escape. However, attempting to escape would be futile as no one could leave the grounds without his permission. She must have learned that quickly. Attempting to get help from the staff would have also been impossible, as he had stripped her of her ability to reveal her identity to anyone. The only reasonable explanation he could come up with was that she had been watching him through the walls, figuring out his secrets and biding her time until she found the perfect moment to act, the perfect moment being Karina's arrival. 

   Good riddance, he thought, pacing the length of his office towards the floor-length window that looked out at the snow-covered grounds. Although her punishment was more short-lived than he'd hoped for, she had been too much of a nuisance and her death brought him a sense of comfort. Things were finally going his way again, just how they always should be, especially things with Karina. It had been a long journey to get here, but he was glad they'd found some common ground. Erasing her memories of their more unpleasant moments, of Mila, of her Grandmother's necklace, of everything he did not particularly like had been the best thing he'd done in a while. Well, that is...the next best thing to framing that maid Betsy.

   He had to do it. There had been no actual kidnapping, thus no signs of entry. He had to fabricate something that would give life to his lies, and an inside job performed by the same maid who had offered the means that Karina used to make a pollyjuice potion to infiltrate his home just seemed too perfect. Not that his devoted followers would ever question him, he still needed Karina to believe it. So, he'd hired detectives to "investigate" the issue. They were easy enough to persuade into doing his bidding, he was their Dark Lord after all. Karina had been devastated, yes, but it was best if he could remain her only confidant. He'd allow the maid to live, of course, especially if he was to maintain Karina's trust, but she would suffer a fate not so different from Mila's; locked away in some place of his choosing. He smiled, Karina would love him for his mercy.