The great court was silent enough to hear breath tremble.
Raven's gaze moved slowly across the line of servants brought forward. His presence pressed down like a living thing—measured, controlled, lethal. No one spoke unless commanded to.
"You," he said at last, his voice calm and cold. "Step forward."
The maid Halvra had chosen stumbled ahead, knees nearly buckling. She swallowed hard, eyes darting across the hall before fixing on Vanella.
"I–I saw her linger," the maid blurted out suddenly, voice cracking. "She stayed behind after the rest of us finished. She was closest to the desk. It must have been her, Your Majesty."
A murmur rippled through the servants.
Vanella did not move.
She did not protest.
Did not gasp.
Did not plead.
Her hands remained folded neatly before her, back straight, chin slightly lowered in respect. Only her eyes shifted—slowly, deliberately—toward the accusing maid.
Kallen noticed that first.
Too fast. Too eager.
Raven's eyes flicked briefly to Vanella, then back to the maid. "You accuse her of theft?"
"Yes! Yes, Your Majesty!" the maid nodded frantically. "She's from Ross. A captive. Who knows what she might want?"
The name Ross echoed through the court like a dropped blade.
Vanella's fingers twitched once—barely perceptible—then stilled.
Raven leaned back slightly. "And the seal," he said evenly. "You saw her take it?"
The maid hesitated. Just a fraction too long. "N-no, Your Majesty. But she was alone. And she carries herself strangely. Not like the rest of us."
That did it.
Kallen's jaw tightened. He stepped forward a pace, folding his arms. "Strangely how?"
The maid glanced at him, startled. "I—I don't know, my lord. Too calm. Too proud."
Kallen's eyes narrowed. Calm was not evidence. Pride was not guilt.
Raven lifted a hand, silencing the room. "Enough."
He turned his gaze fully to Vanella for the first time.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Vanella," she replied. Her voice was steady. Controlled. Neither loud nor meek. "Vanella of Ross."
A few nobles exchanged looks. A servant who spoke like that? Without trembling?
"And did you linger in my study?" Raven asked.
"Yes, Your Majesty," she answered immediately. "I was instructed to finish polishing the lower shelves."
"By whom?"
Vanella's eyes lifted—only slightly. "By the matron, Halvra."
Every head turned.
Halvra stiffened. "That is untrue!"
Raven did not look at her yet. "Continue."
"I did not touch your desk," Vanella said calmly. "I did not approach it. I did not take anything from your study."
"Convenient words," the accusing maid snapped. "Anyone can lie!"
Vanella turned to her then—slowly. When their eyes met, something sharp flickered beneath her composure. Not fear.
Contained fury.
"If I had stolen the seal," Vanella said quietly, "you would not be standing here accusing me. You would be dead."
The hall froze.
Even Raven's brow lifted—just slightly.
Kallen's lips curved faintly. Royal logic, he thought.
Raven leaned forward, interest sharpening. "Bold words for a servant."
Vanella bowed deeply. "Truth does not change because of rank, Your Majesty."
Silence followed.
Vanella Ross
"I will not condemn on trembling accusations," he said coldly. "The seal will be found. Until then—no one leaves the palace."
Relief and fear washed through the servants at once.
As guards escorted them out, Halvra's eyes burned into Vanella's back. This was not how it was supposed to go.
And Raven watched Kallen walk away with slow, measuring interest—pretending, for now, that he had seen nothing unusual at all.