The Tower of Aethelgard did not smell of lilies or expensive rosewater. It smelled of damp granite, ancient dust, and the cold, metallic tang of enchanted iron.
As the heavy oak doors groaned shut with a final, echoing thud, I realized the "Lesser Lily" trope had officially spiraled into a psychological thriller. I wasn't in my suite with the silk canopies; I was in a room designed for high-ranking traitors. The bed was a cot, the window was a vertical slit in a six-foot-thick wall, and the silence was absolute.
"This is for your own good, Liliana," Cassian's voice had echoed in my mind from the hallway. "You've been poisoned by Kaelen's madness. You will stay here until the 'Fragile Lily' returns to me."
"The only thing returning to you is a lawsuit," I muttered, pacing the small cell. My muscles were stiff from the month of training, but the adrenaline was doing a fine job of masking the pain.
When the door peeked open an hour later, it wasn't the Prince. It was the Royal Physician and a line of trembling maids.
"My Lady," the doctor whispered, his eyes darting around the stone room. "I have brought a tonic to soothe your... erratic nerves. His Highness is concerned the commoner's influence has caused a fever of the mind."
I didn't take the cup. I didn't even sit down. I stood in the center of that prison cell, my posture as straight as the steel I had been practicing with for thirty days.
"Tell me, Doctor," I began, my voice cutting through the damp air like a whip. "Have you and the Prince forgotten who I am? I am the daughter of my House. I am an aristocrat of the realm. And most importantly—I am not the Crown Princess yet."
The maids gasped, dropping the silk blankets they were carrying. They weren't used to me speaking in anything louder than a breathy sigh.
"To lock me here, in a tower reserved for those who have committed High Treason, without a trial or a formal charge, is a direct assault on my family's honor," I stepped toward the captain of the guard, who was hovering by the door. "What do you think the Great Houses will say when they hear the future Crown Princess was treated like a king-slayer because she chose to walk in a garden?"
"My Lady, the Prince's protection—"
"Is an insult!" I interrupted. "If the Crown can imprison a noblewoman on a whim today, the Dukes will wonder who is next tomorrow. Do you want to be the men who started a civil war because you were afraid of a 'Lily' having a bit of muscle? Because that is exactly how the gossip will read by morning."
The guards shuffled their feet, looking genuinely unnerved. I wasn't playing the victim; I was playing the Politician.
"Leave the broth. Leave the blankets," I commanded, pointing toward the door. "And tell His Highness that every hour these doors remain locked is another hour my family spends drafting their withdrawal from the engagement contract. I am not a bird to be caged, and I am certainly not a traitor."
I watched them scramble out, the iron bars clanging shut with a much less confident sound than before.
Once I was alone, I headed straight for the window. I knew the Thorne siblings wouldn't just sit by. Near the sill, I found a loose stone. I pried it back with my fingernails, and there it was—a small, crumpled piece of parchment.
Phase 4: The Breakout.
Vesperia is already spreading word of the 'Illegal Detention' to the tea circles. The nobility is outraged. Don't touch the broth—it's laced with a sedative. At the second bell tonight, the laundry chute will be 'clogged.' Be there.
— K.
I looked at the bowl of broth on the table and felt a cold shiver of triumph. Cassian wanted a docile, sleeping doll. He was about to get a prison break led by the most "un-lily-like" woman in the kingdom.
"Novel 101," I whispered, glancing at the moon through the bars. "The yandere prince always forgets that the second lead is the best at rescuing ."