LXV ※ Royal Justice: Where the Truth Gets Trampled, and the Guilty Wear Crowns

Rebekka let out a heavy sigh, the sound thick with disappointment, her breath rising and falling in frustration. Her head shook slowly, and her eyes filled with a sorrowful understanding of the situation. "No," she began, her voice steady but tinged with a deep sadness. "You just blamed it on her so thoughtlessly. So carelessly." She paused, her gaze unwavering. "She is no God; she cannot cause the Rosé disease. I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but you are mistaken. You can punish me later if you wish. I know you don't tolerate when anyone dares to speak their mind about the Royal family's actions, but what you are doing here, all of this, it's wrong. Completely wrong."

She let the words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of truth. Rebekka stood up from her seat, her body tight with tension. Her chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, as though the very act of speaking the truth was taking all her energy. She seemed to be struggling to draw air into her lungs, the tension in the room pressing down on her like a physical weight. Every muscle in her body was coiled, as though ready to spring into action if the situation demanded it.

"The Princess," Rebekka continued, her tone now sharp and unwavering, "saw her own death. Do you understand that?" Her voice trembled with emotion, raw and real. "Would you be able to live your life after seeing that? Would you be able to go on with your days knowing, without a doubt, how and when you are going to die? For all we know, her murderer could be here, in this very palace, walking among us right now." She turned her piercing gaze on me, and for a moment, I felt the weight of her stare press into my very soul, like a deep chill creeping down my spine. "She begged your Majesty to let her stay away. To not be here. She begged to be spared, because she knew, deep down, that this place would be nothing but a waste of time. A year of her life, gone for nothing. And still, you refused her. You denied her that. And when she dies, we all know who will be blamed for it, don't we?"

Her eyes narrowed as she spoke, her gaze now harder than I had ever seen it. It was as though the very force of her words could break through the walls of the room. "The little I know of her… she's been the only one to show me kindness here. The only one who's been genuinely kind. Despite everything, she's shown me something I haven't seen from anyone else in this cursed place. And yet, you still insist on painting her as the villain, as the cause of everything, just so you can justify your vile actions towards her. You—" Rebekka stopped herself, cutting off the words that threatened to spill out, the bitterness too sharp to speak in the presence of royalty.

Mother's face twisted in anger as she stepped forward, her voice freezing the air around us. "You are crossing the line here, Rebekka!" she warned, her eyes narrowing with a dangerous gleam. "You should leave this moment, right now, if you do not want to be punished for disrespecting our authority."

"As you wish, Your Majesty." Rebekka's voice was quiet, but it carried an undeniable weight of defiance. "But that won't change the fact that you are wrong. All of you are wrong about her. She's been mistreated, mistreated since she was no older than a 3-year-old toddler. That's too fucked up, and you all know it. You can try to blame her all you want, but in the end, the one to blame here is you. We don't even know why the Gods bestowed her with this gift, this gift that may seem like a curse to many. But to others, it is a blessing, and one day, the Kingdom could need her power. And when that day comes, when you need her, do you really think, after everything you've done to her—since she was a child—that she will help you?"

Rebekka scoffed, the sound sharp and bitter as it sliced through the tension in the room. "What are you going to say then? That she's ungrateful? That she's vile? Look at what you're doing to her now. Look at it. And let's see who's truly vile in this place."

With one final glance of disgust, Rebekka turned sharply on her heel and walked out of the outdoor garden, her steps echoing in the silence that followed.

Mother clenched her fists tightly, her knuckles white with rage as she stood there, breathing deeply in an effort to contain the fury surging within her. Her anger was palpable, burning through the air like an inferno. "Guards," she barked, her voice colder than the deepest winter, "put Rebekka on probation for three weeks for disrespecting Royal authority. Do not let her leave her quarters. Not for anything. No visitors. She will be confined, and I will decide what happens after that."

"Yes, Your Majesty!" The guards responded immediately, their voices sharp and obedient, their boots thudding heavily on the ground as they quickly left the room, moving to carry out her orders without hesitation.

"And you," Mother turned to the secretary, her eyes blazing with cold fury and unwavering authority, "I want you to call for a broadcasted audience with the temple. Let us show the citizens how we deal with liars. Whether they come from powerful Houses like House D'Arcy or not, they will all face the consequences. I will not allow anyone to lie about my daughter, not when she isn't even here to defend herself, especially not a vile, cursed girl who thinks she is special when she is nothing. Take Nsomi Eileithya D'Arcy, for example. Let the entire Kingdom watch as the judgment of the Gods falls upon her for lying and disrespecting us. Only then will I and my husband, the King, find a suitable punishment for the Princess. And no matter what happens, she will not be removed from the Crowned Princess Trials. Mark my words."

The secretary gulped nervously, his face pale with fear. He bowed deeply, the weight of the command sinking in. "Yes, Your Majesty," he stammered, his voice barely audible.

With a sharp nod, Mother turned back to the remaining contestants. Her eyes burned with fury as she addressed them. "Now, let's proceed with the test!" she commanded, her voice like steel. "I hope you won't be as defiant as the others have been. Do not forget your place."

"No, Your Majesty!" they all exclaimed in unison, their voices tremulous and pale with fear, their faces drained of color, ashen with dread.

I met Adonis's and Sohan's eyes, and for a brief moment, we shared a silent, tense look. They were still with us, their presence offering a faint, yet comforting reminder that we were not entirely alone in this room, that someone still had our backs, however small that comfort was.

But something gnawed at the pit of my stomach, an unsettling feeling that gnawed at me, growing stronger with every passing second. I couldn't shake the feeling that a broadcasted audience was a terrible idea. Something told me, deep in my gut, that Eileithya had orchestrated this entire situation with cruel precision, knowing exactly what would unfold, step by step. She had set this trap with the same ease and grace as someone planning a chess game, and we, unfortunately, were the pawns. Something deep inside me whispered that we had walked straight into her trap, just as she had trapped my sister before us.

If… if Avy had lied, for whatever reason, and Eileithya and Rai were telling the truth, we were heading straight into a Royal humiliation, an embarrassment that none of us would be able to escape. Because the temple, with its unerring judgment, would expose whatever the real truth was. And there was nothing we could do to avoid it. If the temple found the truth, whatever it might be, there was no way to stop it from coming out, no matter how hard we tried.

All I could do was hope that Avy hadn't lied. But even then… she had lied to us once already, about not being sick when she clearly was, even if she had the best of intentions. But that one lie had already set everything into motion, a chain of events that I feared might lead us to an inevitable, irreversible outcome.