Chapter 112: The Title They Cannot Deny
Chapter 111: The Title They Cannot Deny
Lyria’s POV
Nobody had expected the earl to ask the question.
I wasn’t even certain anyone had expected Earl Hawthorne to speak at all.
The silence that followed his words stretched thin and fragile, like glass about to crack under too much pressure. Every eye in the Grand Hall turned toward him, then toward the royal family, then back to me.
I stood there in the light the Queen had dragged me into, my hand trapped in hers, the scar on my face bare for all to see.
Duke Thorncrest was the first to break the silence.
He tilted his head slightly, his voice smooth and courteous, every syllable shaped with the polished grace of high nobility.
"How very perceptive of you, my lord," he said, his tone light, almost amused. "I have to say, Your Majesties, the earl raises a rather valid point."
There was a faint shift in the room.
A subtle leaning of attention.
"If the lady in question is indeed of royal blood," he continued, "then it would be most improper to address her as anything less than her rightful station."
He paused, his warm brown eyes flicking toward the dais with perfect politeness.
"To do otherwise," he added softly, "would be... curious."
The King’s expression had not changed.
But there was something in his eyes now.
Something harder.
Something calculating.
"Except... the royal family does not recognize her as a princess even after everything that has been said?" he asked.
The most infuriating thing about his words was the fact that there was a smirk on his face, like everything that was happening was a game he enjoyed partaking in.
"And surely," another voice joined, smooth and composed, "that would not be the case."
Baron Redwick.
He adjusted his spectacles with careful fingers, his forest-green hair catching the chandelier light as he stepped forward a fraction.
"Surely the royal family is not like that," he said, his tone thoughtful and measured. "They would not deny their own blood, especially now that everyone knows there is another child the King has."
My fingers curled slightly at my sides.
This—this was dangerous. And it was not because they were wrong. No, they were asking the right questions after all. But it was exactly because of that that this was dangerous.
The right questions had consequences, and in this situation, I was certain it would have repercussions, especially for those suitor candidates who were speaking up.
The King drew breath, no doubt preparing to respond, but before he could even utter a word, someone else spoke first.
His voice was calm, almost deferential, yet there was something beneath it—something only I seemed to catch.
"Of course not," the voice said.
The royal family and everyone in the Grand Hall turned to him now.
"The Royal Family," he continued, "has always been known for its fairness in judgment."
His gaze flickered briefly toward the King.
Then—to me. It was only for a second, but it was enough. His blue eyes were kind, as if reassuring me.
"Indeed," he went on, as though merely adding to the discussion, "now that the truth has been revealed, it is only proper that it be acknowledged fully."
He paused before he continued.
"And if Her Highness possesses such... affinity with the people," he said, "then it would be only fair that she be allowed to stand among the other candidates."
The words settled into the room.
"After all," he finished softly, "like Baron Redwick said, the prophecy did not specifically say which princess was the Moon. And if Princess Jacinta was the only princess, then she would have been the Moon of the Empire, but there are two princesses now, and only one can be the Moon of the Empire."
Jacinta stared at Lucian in open shock, but he pretended not to see it, his expression perfectly composed.
I knew what he was doing.
Though his words sounded like he was defending the royal family and also attacking them, he was doing it for my benefit too. Now that I had been exposed, the beatings would have to reduce—at least in public. I would have to be shown to the court, especially since I was now a recognized princess. The Queen could not risk appearing cruel in front of everyone.
I felt the Queen’s fingers tighten slightly around mine.
It was a warning or perhaps a reminder.
The King cleared his throat. The sound alone was enough to still the room once more.
"Surely," he began, his voice measured, "that was always the intention."
"There are... considerations," he continued, voice smooth, "that must be addressed. Matters of propriety. Of readiness."
His gaze flickered to me.
"As you may all understand," he added, "this revelation is... recent."
Recent? Really? He spoke as though I had not existed before this moment.
As though I had not lived within these walls.
As though he did not know who I was, who my mother was, as though he had not ignored my very existence. As though I had...
I forced the thought away.
Now was not the time to focus on those thoughts. The King did not care who I was after all. I also did not care that he was the reason I even existed. If not for this situation, I wouldn’t be standing next to him.
"Discussions will be required," he went on. "It would be improper to proceed without due consideration of Her Highness’s wishes."
My lips almost parted at that.
My wishes.
The absurdity of it nearly made me laugh. He did not care about my wishes at all.
Duke Thorncrest spoke again.
"Your Majesty," he said, with that same easy politeness and that smirk on his face, "while your concern is... admirable, I fear the matter may not be so flexible."
He paused, enough to draw attention.
"If she is indeed a princess—which it is confirmed by you already," he continued, "then her eligibility is not in question."
He tilted his head slightly.
Almost thoughtful.
"It is, rather... inevitable."
"As long as she holds that title," he added, "she is bound by the same expectations as any other of royal standing."
His gaze drifted—slowly, deliberately—until it found me.
"There would be no exception."
