The guards shoved the garden maid forward, and she stumbled, scrambling to her knees with desperation etched on her face.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she begged, her voice trembling.
"Your Grace, please! Have mercy!" she cried out, clutching her hands together in a plea.
Alaric seated himself calmly in the chair before her, his movements deliberate and composed, while Salviana settled beside him.
His expression was unreadable, but the chill in his eyes made the maid tremble harder. He leaned back slightly, his tone sharp but unsettlingly soft.
"This is how it's going to go," Alaric began, lacing his fingers together. "I hear your mother is a fish seller in Wyfborough."
The maid's sobs intensified, and she wailed, "Your Grace! Please—"
He raised a hand to silence her, continuing as if uninterrupted. "We could ban her from the docks, ensure she never sells another fish. Your house would be marked as a traitor's home, and your family would have to—"
"No! Please!" the maid cut in, her voice cracking as she dropped her forehead to the ground. "I'm sorry! Forgive me, please! I didn't know—"
Alaric's cold gaze flickered briefly to Salviana, who frowned deeply, her voice laced with anger. "You were asked to bring water," she said, her words biting.
The maid sobbed harder, her face a picture of pure desperation. "I'll do anything! Anything to make this right! Please, spare my mother. If she loses her livelihood, she'll kill herself. She has nothing else!"
Salviana's eyes softened for a brief moment before her voice turned cold. "She's already lost you," she whispered, her tone firm but tinged with sadness.
The maid shook her head violently, clutching her chest. "No, no! She doesn't have to know. Please, Your Grace, I beg you! Let her be. Punish me however you want!"
Alaric leaned forward slightly, his piercing gaze locking onto the maid. "Who ordered you to poison my wife?" His voice was calm, but the menace beneath it was palpable. "Because I know you didn't do this alone."
The maid shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "I—I swear, Your Grace, I didn't mean for this to happen. I… I was just told to follow orders."
Alaric's expression didn't waver. His icy demeanor bore into her, his voice measured. "Orders? From whom?"
The maid hesitated, her lips trembling. She glanced nervously between Salviana and Alaric, clearly debating whether to speak.
Salviana leaned forward slightly, her voice calm but firm. "If you truly want to save your mother, you'll tell the truth now. Who gave you those orders?"
Tears streamed down the maid's face as she clutched the hem of her dress.
"Who sent you?" Alaric's voice was sharp, dark, and unyielding, dragging the maid back to the present. His cold gaze pierced through her, leaving her no room to hide.
"The princesses," the maid blurted, her voice trembling with desperation.
Alaric narrowed his eyes. "Which princesses? There are many of them," he pressed, his brow furrowing in disbelief.
The maid hesitated, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths before she finally whispered, "Princess Cristina… and…"
"And who?" Alaric's tone dropped dangerously low, his patience wearing thin. The thought of his own cousins conspiring against his wife ignited a simmering rage within him.
"Princess Jolene," the maid admitted, her words cutting through the air like a blade. "They said they wanted Princess Salviana to have a taste of their 'special.' They seemed genuine—I swear, Your Grace, I didn't know! I'm sorry!" Her apologies spilled out in a frantic stream, tears falling freely.
Salviana's expression hardened as she spoke, her voice steady despite the hurt simmering beneath the surface. "You were asked to bring water. Why didn't you tell me the truth instead of lying about some 'garden special'?"
The maid sobbed, shaking her head. "That's what they instructed me to say! They told me if you questioned it, I should tell you it was from the queen!"
Alaric's fingers tapped against the armrest of his chair as he studied her. "So you delivered a drink you knew nothing about, even after my wife specifically asked for water?"
The maid nodded, her sobs quieter now. "I didn't know it was poison! I thought it was just something special, like she said. I swear, Your Grace! I didn't mean any harm."
Alaric stood abruptly, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over the trembling maid. "Ignorance does not absolve you of guilt," he said coldly. "You served a poisoned drink to my wife. Whether you knew or not, the consequences are the same."
"Please!" the maid cried out, clutching at the hem of his robe. "Spare my family! Punish me however you see fit, but don't take it out on them."
Alaric stepped back, shaking her off with a look of disgust. He turned to Salviana, his voice softening slightly. "What do you think, my love? Should we let this fool pay for her mistakes with her life, or do we let her live with the shame of her actions?"
Salviana regarded the maid for a long moment, her expression unreadable. "She was a pawn," she said finally, her voice steady. "But that doesn't mean she's blameless."
Alaric clenched his fists, the fury rolling off him in waves. "Do you realize what you've done?" he asked, his voice dangerously calm. "You could be hanged for this."
The maid shuddered, her face pale. "I deserve to be punished, Your Grace," she whispered, her voice thick with remorse.
"Or you could rot in a dungeon for the rest of your days," Alaric continued mercilessly, watching her crumble under his gaze.
"How dare I?!" she wailed dramatically, her anguish spilling onto the floor as if her tears could wash away her sins.
For a moment, silence enveloped the room. Salviana's lips pressed into a thin line, her emotions a whirlwind of anger, hurt, and reluctant pity. Alaric finally broke the silence, his voice cold but resolute. "You're going back home to your mother."