Chapter 111: The Truth They Choose
Chapter 110: The Truth They Choose
Lyria’s POV
Marquess Hale stepped forward.
The movement alone shifted the atmosphere in the hall.
"I believe," he began smoothly, his voice carrying with practiced ease, "that most here are aware my territory of Westreach lies not far from the capital."
A few nobles shifted.
He clasped his hands behind his back as though he were not standing in the middle of a royal court unraveling at the seams, but rather delivering some polite evening remark.
"I spent a great deal of my youth within these very halls," he continued. "Playing, studying... and, on occasion, visiting at the invitation of His Majesty."
My fingers curled slightly.
Something in me tightened at the ease of his tone.
He was not lying. Westreach was not particularly far from the capital, hence why Corvin always showed up when he was younger. Hence why we had even become friends, due to how frequently he visited. But I had no idea what he was getting at with this.
His gaze lifted.
And then it landed on me.
I felt it like a weight pressing down on my chest.
"There was a time," he said, slower now, "when I encountered the lady in question."
A murmur rippled faintly through the court.
"I was... younger then," he said lightly. "Engaged in a simple game of hide and seek within the palace gardens."
A few soft, almost polite smiles appeared among the nobles.
It made it sound harmless.
But my stomach twisted. There was nothing harmless about what Corvin was doing—at least not to me.
He was smoothing the edges.
Removing anything that might make the Royal Family look like anything other than what they wanted to appear.
"I did not expect," he said, "to find anyone in the shadows."
He paused.
"But I did. I attempted to speak with her," he said, "but she ran."
He released a soft exhale of amusement, as though it were a fond memory.
"I was quite startled at the time, of course. I later informed my parents, who in turn spoke with Her Majesty."
The Queen nodded, going along with this farce playing out in front of the court.
"And it was then," Corvin added, "that I was told there was a child within the palace who preferred solitude... who did not enjoy company... and who often hid away."
My chest tightened further.
That was not what had been said. That was not what had happened.
I almost laughed at the absurdity of this situation.
Yes, Corvin and I had met that day. Yes, he had met me when he was playing hide and seek. I had been the one to show him the best places to hide in the shadows. It was how we became friends—best of friends later. And now he was standing here... I wasn’t surprised. The Corvin I knew wasn’t the same Corvin now. Or perhaps I did not know him at all after all.
"And I was encouraged," he continued smoothly, "to attempt to draw her into more social interaction. Though... I regret to say I was not successful."
A faint, polite chuckle came from somewhere in the court.
I felt something sharp rise in my throat.
He turned his head slightly.
And again—his gaze found Baron Redwick.
"As the lady herself has stated," Corvin said calmly, "perhaps the circumstances of each encounter shape how one perceives her. Perhaps that was why you saw her in a different light."
Baron Redwick just stared back at Corvin.
In fact, he looked almost insulted by the neatness of it all.
He scoffed quietly, shaking his head once.
His gaze shifted toward me again, as though asking something without words.
The second time I had met the baron was in the kitchens, with Corvin present. I did not know why, but I was under the impression that the baron was asking my permission to bring that up.
But before I could even draw breath—
The King stepped forward.
The entire hall shifted again.
He lifted a hand slightly.
And the room stilled.
"There is a reason," he said, voice calm and controlled, "that the... lady," he said with slight disgust, "was kept from the public eye."
"It was not concealment," he added. "It was protection."
Right. Protection.
I closed my eyes, controlling my emotions. There was no need for an outburst here. I had to think of my mother and Patricia, and also Helen and the others.
"I will not have this matter misinterpreted," he said. "The arrangement was made for her own safety, with her acknowledgement."
A few nobles exchanged glances.
Some accepted it immediately.
Others... did not.
I could feel the doubt lingering in the air, but none said anything.
The King raised his hand again.
"Enough," he said lightly. "We will not dwell further on this disturbance."
He gestured toward the guards.
"Remove that man."
The man who had spoken earlier—the one who had first stirred this entire situation—shifted slightly.
But he did not resist.
Not when the guards stepped forward.
Not when hands reached for his arms.
He simply adjusted his coat and allowed himself to be taken.
There was only a smile on his face, one filled with satisfaction. He had done what he came to do.
The King watched until he was gone.
Then he turned.
And for the first time since this began, his expression softened slightly when it landed on me.
"Lyria, love," he said, almost gently, "this must have been quite overwhelming for you."
My throat tightened.
"You should take some rest," he continued. "We will see the remainder of the evening through."
It was obvious he was dismissing me. I did not need to be told twice.
I bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty."
It seemed the chaos was over and everyone could return to their chambers. Or so I thought, but then a voice stopped me in my steps.
"Why?" Earl Hawthorne asked.
His voice held genuine confusion.
"Pardon?" the King asked him.
"If she’s a princess, right? Why do we refer to her as a lady then? And also, why does she have to leave?" the Earl asked.
