The courtroom doors had barely closed behind the departing nobles when the tension that had filled the air seemed to fracture into chaos. No one could have anticipated what would unfold next.
Elara stood behind with her loyal allies, her mind racing through the events that had just transpired. But before she could take another step, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway. Her handmaid Nancy burst through the door, breathless, her face flushed with panic. Sweat beaded down her face, streaking through her once-pristine gown.
"Your Majesty, the King... Sir Given is about to be executed!" Nancy's voice was thin with panic, her words almost drowned by the rush of her breath.
"What?!" Lord Cade, who had just exited the courtroom with Lord Elliot, whipped around in shock. His voice rang out, sharp and full of disbelief. Elara's eyes lingered on Lord Elliot, the man she had been hoping to have a conversation with. But there was no time for that now, not with the chaos that was unfolding.
"Yes. Princess Lyric just announced herself pregnant." Nancy continued, voice trembling as she struggled to keep up with the rushing nobles.
"Impregnated by who? By Given?!" Lord Cade exploded, his face turning beet red. His fists clenched at his sides, his fury apparent as he stormed toward the area where they claimed Given was being held.
"Your Lord, I suggest you don't rush to conclusions," Elara spoke up, her voice calm, though her insides were churning with confusion.
"Then I also suggest you don't interfere in family matters, Your Majesty. Focus on your own life." Lord Cade's words were sharp, dismissive, cutting through the air between them. His anger was palpable.
Elara's silver eyes narrowed as they reached the door where Given was supposed to be. She watched as Lord Cade stormed forward, ignoring her plea, his anger propelling him toward the guards that surrounded Given. Her gaze shifted to Theron, whose disheveled state gave him an even more ominous presence. His fists were clenched by his sides, his gaze locked on Given with an intensity that bordered on dangerous. Given himself looked confused, his face a mix of fury and confusion.
Elara stepped forward, but a hand gripped her wrist, pulling her back. She turned, her eyes meeting Lord Elliot's, whose expression remained unreadable, though there was a slight tension in his stance.
"Your Majesty, I suggest—"
"Stop suggesting." Elara pulled her hand from his grasp, her voice firm. She moved past him, her heels clicking sharply on the stone floor as she rushed toward the scene unfolding before her. Nancy followed closely behind, and ahead of them, the Queen Mother spoke with quiet authority while Lord Cade was left silently seething, his mouth shut for once.
Elara found a brief moment of satisfaction in seeing someone—especially Lord Cade—finally biting his tongue.
"Nancy," Elara called, her voice low but urgent. Nancy stepped forward, her breath still quick and uneven. "Yes, Your Majesty?"
"You said Lyric is pregnant. By who, and who did she tell?" Elara's voice remained calm, controlled, her eyes focused as she sought the truth in the sea of chaos.
Nancy, though still struggling to catch her breath, relayed everything she knew.
Princess Lyric and Princess Evelyn had been arguing. The source of their conflict? Given. Lyric had become increasingly close to him, and Evelyn, feeling her grip on him slipping, began to question who Given needed more. The competition between the two sisters had escalated quickly, with Lyric becoming jealous of the time Evelyn had spent with Given. In a fit of frustration, Lyric had blurted out the secret—she was pregnant with Given's child.
Elara's mind struggled to process the words, the implications of the situation spiraling through her thoughts. This couldn't be right. Could it? Given, the same young man who had pledged loyalty to her, now somehow tangled in this scandalous web? Her chest tightened, and an unsettling sense of betrayal washed over her. Was it the betrayal of a man she had trusted with her people? Or was it the fact that Given had been involved with the very people who had made her feel like an outsider in her own home?
Her mind whirled, clouded by doubt and hurt, but most of all, confusion. What was happening ?
The Queen Mother, ever the voice of reason, stepped in. "Take him to the dungeons," she ordered, her voice firm. But before anyone could act, Theron tried to speak, but the Queen Mother cut him off."No! We will not take any rash decisions until we get the truth. We need to know what really went down before we act." Theron's voice was commanding, and for a brief moment, the room fell silent as everyone waited for a response.
The Queen Mother, never one to waste time on pointless arguments, gave a sharp nod. "Very well. But we will get to the bottom of this."
Elara, though thankful for the Queen Mother's judgment, felt the weight of the situation pressing down on her. Rash actions, born out of anger and hurt, would only worsen things. She admired the Queen Mother for her level-headedness and for her ability to solve problems with precision.
As Given was taken to another room for questioning, Elara followed behind, her thoughts racing. She intended to head to her own chambers, to be alone and think, to get her bearings and decide what to do next.
But then, she saw it—a streak of blood on the floor, the deep crimson stain marking the path where Given had been standing. Elara stopped in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat. The blood belonged to him.
Behind her, she heard someone give an order to Nancy to clean the blood, while the Queen Mother guided Lord Cade to a private room for a discussion. Theron, though, had already slipped away.
Elara, her mind spinning, was suddenly alone in the corridor. She was lost in thought, trying to make sense of it all, when a sharp, sudden force shoved her against the wall of a nearby room.
Before she could react, a strong hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her scream. The door slammed shut behind her, and her back hit the cold wood. She tried to push away, but a leg slid between hers, locking her in place, and the weight of the person before her kept her hands pinned above her head.
Her heart thundered in her chest. Panic surged through her veins. The man before her was too strong—there was no escaping. The firm, unyielding pressure of his grip told her that she was at his mercy.