"He used Bako too…your former guard, Your Highness," she turns slightly to Cassian. "Father arranged for him to be reassigned to your personal service. But he remained loyal to my father in secret. Every threat note, every intrusion into your chambers, Princess… was Bako. My father made him do it."
My fingers grip the edge of the railing.
Cassian stand silent, his jaw tight, his eyes hollow.
Nancy's voice grows softer. "That night… when Princess Celeste was nearly killed in the accident… I was with the Crown Prince, still trying to seduce him. I didn't know what my father had planned until it was too late. But I did nothing to stop it. I didn't come forward."
A thunderous murmur erupts in the hall; nobles turning in their seats, whispering sharply. Several council members look absolutely stunned. They had all known about the accident. They had seen the blood and wreckage. But not one of them had imagined it was orchestrated.
Not by this man.
Not by one of their own.
I stare hard at Lord Johnson. His face is like parchment—cold, gray, bloodless. His jaw works as if he meant to speak, but no sound comes. For once, he has no script. No game.
He has lost control.
The Queen's expression doesn't shift, but I see something ripple behind her eyes; betrayal, perhaps. A wound that hasn't yet shown on her face but would soon settle deep.
Nancy takes a step back, trembling harder now. She doesn't speak further. She can't. The murmur has swelled into a wave of disbelief, disgust, and something even heavier, fear.
Because if Lord Johnson could plan a murder in the shadows of the palace… who else had helped him?
Beside me, Cassian finally moves. He exhales slowly, his hand brushing against mine.
I dontt realize I was shaking too.
The truth had finally landed.
And it burns through every lie that had ever dared touch this crown.
The sound in the Grand Hall blurs into a wall of static. Murmurs crash and collide, sharp breaths and gasps claw at the silence between each syllable Nancy utters. The council shifts uncomfortably, the Queen's fingers tighten over the edges of her armrests, and still I don't move.
I'm not even breathing.
Nancy's voice trembles as she sobs on the marbled floor, and continues to speak. Her words tumbling out like a confession years overdue. Her father's schemes. The manipulation. The threats. The staged pregnancy. The seduction. The betrayal.
And then…
The accident.
Her voice cracks, but the words hit me like gunfire.
"The brakes…" she whispers. "He said if she chased after you, if she got behind the wheel in that state… it would be enough. He told Bako to make sure… her car wouldn't stop."
Everything in me stills.
The brakes.
I barely hear the sharp cries from the council, the eruption of whispers, the Queen's stunned murmur. I hear nothing but the blood rushing to my ears.
That night came back to me in painful detail.
I had driven myself. Alone. Furious.
Rage had burned hotter than caution, humiliation had fueled my hands on the steering wheel, and pain… pain had made me reckless.
I'd blamed myself for weeks. Believed I let jealousy drive me to the brink. Believed I brought the crash on myself. That it was divine punishment for not trusting Cassian… for not being stronger.
But now?
Now I see the truth.
I've been herded into that car. Played like a piece in a rigged game. They knew …he knew…I would react with fire. Lord Johnson twisted every vulnerable part of me into a weapon against myself.
I feel sick. Not just for what's happened… but for how easily I became predictable to them.
The sobs around the room blur into a haze. I can't lift my eyes to look at Nancy. Or Cassian. Or the Queen. Because now, the story isn't just betrayal.
It's attempted murder. Plotted. Executed. Disguised.
I was never just reckless that night. I was marked.
Cassian's hand reaches out and finds mine where it trembles beside me. He doesn't speak. He doesn't have to. His fingers wrap around mine gently, grounding me. reminding me that I'm still here. Alive. Breathing.
Barely. I close my eyes.
The Crown Prince's wife nearly died not from poor judgment but because her life is a threat to a power-hungry man who wants the throne for his daughter. For himself.
A chill sweeps over me as I realize I've been a target from the moment I stepped into the palace.
And now… they all know it too.
The room is still caught in the grip of Nancy's confession when Lord Johnson suddenly snaps to his feet. His cloak rustles sharply as he turns, eyes wild, and points a trembling finger toward one of the councilmen seated quietly at the far end.
"Why are you looking at me like that, Cumain?" His voice cracks. "Do I look funny now? Do I look evil to you because I dared to act?"
Murmurs spark again. Lord Cumain doesn't respond, but I see his jaw tighten ever so slightly.
Lord Johnson's voice grows louder, more erratic. He turns to another. "And you, James… Don't you sit there and judge me! You hypocrites!" He points at all of them. "All of you; sick to your stomachs about the Queen's useless rules and her stupid son's complete lack of interest in the Crown since the King died!"
I feel Cassian tense beside me.
"You all talk behind closed doors! You murmur and grumble and grovel, but none of you move!" Johnson's voice shakes with the weight of a man finally ripping his mask apart. "I acted! I tried to correct the path we're all on!"
"You tried to commit treason," Lord Edric says quietly.
"The King himself was tired of her!" Johnson bellows, gesturing madly toward the Queen. "Tired of her control, tired of being her puppet. Ask yourselves; what would he have done if he had the courage to defy her? If I had had the throne…"
"Enough!" the Queen's voice cracks through the Grand Hall like thunder.
Everyone goes still.