The Great Hall had been transformed into a theater of judgment. Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting fragmented colors across the silent, watchful crowd. I stood at my designated podium, the wooden surface cool beneath my trembling hands. Across the aisle, Seraphina stood with perfected tragic grace, while Gavin Selwyn hunched over his stand as if awaiting execution.
Crown Prince Cassian presided from the central dais, the Academy Headmaster and a severe-faced Church Inquisitor flanking him. Prince Lucian sat slightly apart, a ledger open before him, the picture of detached bureaucracy. And near the front, a shadow against a marble pillar, stood Kaelen. His presence was a silent storm, felt by everyone in the room.
"Let this inquiry seek truth, not vengeance," Cassian began, his voice carrying easily in the hushed hall. "We begin with the facts."
The City Watch Commander presented his evidence: the crystal vial, now empty. The chemical analysis confirmed moonbell and shadowcap. Then came the locket, pulled from the academy pond. A maid from the Vale household identified it, sobbing as she confirmed it belonged to her missing friend, a girl who had run errands for Lady Seraphina.
"The apothecary, Orwin, has provided signed ledgers," the Commander stated. "He confirms the missing maid purchased moonbell root under Lady Vale's direction one year ago. The maid disappeared a week later."
A ripple of shock went through the nobility. Murder to cover a poison purchase. The stakes had just turned deadly.
Cassian's face was a mask of grave concern. "Lady Vale?"
Seraphina lifted her chin, a single tear tracing her cheek. "I am horrified by this revelation, Your Highness. That poor girl! But I knew nothing of this purchase. Maids sometimes borrow their lady's name for credit. It is a tragic abuse of my trust, not a command." Her voice broke beautifully. "To think she might have been harmed for it… it chills my soul."
It was a masterful performance. She acknowledged the evidence while distancing herself with plausible deniability.
"And the vial in Lord Selwyn's hand?" the Church Inquisitor asked, his voice like grating stone.
"I gave him nothing!" Seraphina's eyes widened with innocent outrage. "He must have stolen it! He is drowning in debt, desperate! Look at him!"
All eyes turned to Gavin. He flinched under the weight of it.
"Lord Selwyn," Cassian said, his tone cooler. "Your testimony."
Gavin's voice was a reedy, broken thing. He told his story—the debts, the failed alchemy exam, and Seraphina's offer to make it disappear. The secret meetings. The promise that the vial contained a mere stomach tonic for a "prank" on the prince. "She said it would make him a little ill, make him need tending… that she would be there to care for him… She said no one would be hurt, and my debts would be cleared…"
"And you believed that?" the Inquisitor pressed.
"I wanted to believe it!" Gavin wailed. "She had my confession! She said she'd send it to my father! I would have been disinherited!"
Cassian steepled his fingers. "So you claim Lady Vale masterminded a poisoning plot, using you as her ignorant tool, to discredit a rival and position herself as the prince's caretaker." He made it sound like a tawdry romance novel. "A compelling story. But we have only your word against a lady of unimpeachable standing and one piece of physical evidence that does not directly link her." He turned his gaze, blue and piercing, to me. "Lady Thorne. You were the other person in close proximity. Lord Selwyn claims you were not involved. Can you corroborate any part of his story?"
This was the trap. If I supported Gavin, I aligned myself with a proven liar and blackmailer. If I denied it, I looked guilty of my own separate plot.
I met Cassian's eyes for a fleeting second before letting my gaze drift, as if overwhelmed, to Kaelen. His steadying presence was a physical force across the room. Look at me. I anchored myself in his silver-gray stare.
"Your Highness," I began, my voice carefully modulated to sound weary and confused. "I know nothing of plots. I attended the tea party after my earlier obligation concluded, believing it my duty. I saw Lord Selwyn pale and unsteady. When he stepped forward, I feared he would faint and cause a disruption. I moved to steady him. I stumbled on the uneven flagstone. In the chaos, I saw something glitter fall. I know nothing more." I let a note of frustrated anguish into my voice. "My attempt to prevent a minor embarrassment has somehow seen me accused of treason. I do not understand this world of vials and vanished maids. I only know I am caught in its web."
I was playing the ultimate noble card: the ignorant, well-meaning innocent, baffled by the sordid machinations of others. It was a role they would believe of the old Rosalind.
Cassian's smile was thin. "A web indeed. And at its center, a vial that fell from… where, exactly? Lord Selwyn's hand, which he claims he received from Lady Vale. But there are no witnesses to that transfer. Only to your… stumble."
He was trying to resurrect the narrative of my guilt, but the foundation was cracked. The locket, the maid, the apothecary's ledger—they all pointed to Seraphina, not me.
"There is a witness to the state of the heart," a low, resonant voice cut through.
Kaelen pushed off from the pillar. He did not ask permission to speak. He simply commanded the room's attention by existing. "I have stood on borders where truth is written in blood and actions, not pretty tears. The evidence chain leads to House Vale. The motivation resides there. The girl," he gestured to me without looking, "has no chain. No motive that withstands scrutiny. Her only crime is being inconveniently positioned when a spoiled child's game turned deadly."
Seraphina gasped. "Your Grace! How dare you—"
"I dare," Kaelen interrupted, his voice dropping to a deadly calm, "because while you play at poison in sunlit gardens, my men die holding a line against a true evil you cannot comprehend. This inquiry is a distraction the empire cannot afford." He finally looked at Cassian. "Make your political judgment. But do not dress it up as justice. We both know the difference."
The hall was frozen. A duke had just openly accused the crown prince of political theater. The Church Inquisitor looked deeply alarmed. Lucian watched, a faint, unreadable curve to his mouth.
Cassian's expression was polished marble. "Your passion for efficiency is noted, Duke Frost. Justice, however, must be seen to be thorough." He straightened. "The evidence against Lady Vale is… concerning. She will be removed from the Academy and placed under house arrest at her family's capital residence, pending a full investigation by the imperial magistrates. Lord Selwyn, for his willing part in this scheme, will be imprisoned."
He then turned to me. "Lady Thorne. While direct culpability is not proven, your recklessness enabled this crisis. You will be placed on strict academic probation. Your movements within the academy will be logged. You will attend weekly spiritual guidance with Inquisitor Greyford," he nodded to the churchman, "to correct your judgment. Furthermore, you are forbidden from any contact with those associated with this incident or from involving yourself in matters beyond your station. Is that clear?"
The situation felt like a cage made of silk and scrutiny. Probation. A watchdog. Gilded isolation right here at the academy. He wasn't exiling me—he was putting me in a jar on his shelf to observe.
I bowed my head. "Yes, Your Highness."
"This inquiry is concluded."
As the hall erupted in chatter, Seraphina shot me a look of pure, venomous hatred as guards led her away. She had lost, but I was not free.
Kaelen approached me as the crowd swirled. "He's containing you," he said, his voice for my ears alone.
"I know."
"Use the containment. Walls can become a fortress. What the onlookers expect to see can blind them. His gaze held mine. "The investigation is not over. It has just gone deeper underground. You now have a sanctioned reason to be in the library, to be studious, to be… pious." A faint, grim hint of a smile touched his eyes. "Turn his weapon into your shield."
He gave a curt nod and strode away, his knights falling in behind him.
I was left standing alone in the dispersing crowd, the verdict settling around me like a weight. Probation. Surveillance. A Church Inquisitor as my shadow.
But as I walked back to my room, a new, grim determination solidified. Cassian thought he had neutralized me. He thought he'd turned me into a passive subject of study.
He was mistaken.
He had just given the Saint the perfect cover to investigate him in plain sight.