Chapter 165: The Question They Wanted Answered
Chapter 164: The Question They Wanted Answered
For all their reactions... things still got worse.
Mercer’s Row had not quite settled from the last question, the outrage still simmering low beneath the surface, when the interviewer spoke again.
And this time, the question caused outrage. One could hear the hesitancy in the interviewer’s voice, but it was also obvious the interviewer had to ask the question.
And so they did, asking Lyria if her aim in coming out now as a Moon candidate was to take Princess Jacinta’s role.
And immediately the question was asked, silence descended upon Mercer’s Row.
It lasted for only a single stunned second, like people who were taken aback from the words they had just heard.
And then, it exploded.
"The hell kind of question is that?" Olly barked, half-rising from his seat before remembering himself just enough to sit back down hard against the bench.
Jacob swore under his breath, rough and immediate.
"Fuckin’ goddess arse. That’s not a question," he said. "That’s a blade."
"They couldn’t even dress it up," a woman snapped from somewhere near the back, her accent thick as she spoke. "Not even a little. Just went straight for it, didn’t they?"
"Bloody vultures," another muttered.
"They want her to say it," the wiry man said, leaning forward, his voice tight with something that wasn’t quite anger and wasn’t quite disbelief. "That’s what this is. They want her to admit it."
"Or deny it," Jacob said.
"And either way," Olly added, "they twist it."
"Aye," the heavyset man agreed. "She says yes, she’s greedy. Says no, she’s lyin’. There’s no good answer to that."
Brianna looked up from the bench, her small face pulled into a frown that didn’t quite fit her.
"Mama," she said quietly, tugging at Helen’s sleeve, "why’d they ask her that?"
Helen didn’t look away from the veil.
Her jaw had tightened, just slightly.
"Because they want her to break," she said.
Brianna blinked.
"Break?"
"Aye," Olly said, his voice grim now. "They want to push her till she says somethin’ wrong. Somethin’ they can use against her."
"That’s bad," Brianna said immediately.
"Aye," Olly replied. "It is."
"She didn’t choose this," the woman from earlier added. "She didn’t ask to be dragged into all this mess."
"And now they’re askin’ her if she’s tryin’ to steal a crown?" Jacob scoffed. "From her own sister?"
"Who even asks that?" someone else said. "Out loud like that?"
"It’s deliberate," the silver-templed man said quietly. "Every bit of it."
The arguments began again.
Voices overlapping.
Anger rising. And this time it wasn’t split into two sides like before; this time, they were all on the same side.
A rare thing on Mercer’s Row. And this was too blatant to argue over.
But while they spoke, while they cursed and argued and tried to make sense of something that had never been meant to be fair, Brianna was quiet.
She turned back to the veil.
Her small hands gripping the edge of the bench once more.
Her eyes fixed.
"Mama," she said softly.
Helen didn’t respond immediately.
"...She hasn’t said anything."
That stilled something in Helen’s chest.
Her gaze sharpened.
Because Brianna was right.
On the veil, Lyria had not answered yet.
She had not even moved.
She sat exactly as she had before, still and composed. Only her gaze moved, and if one wasn’t watching closely, they would not notice.
Helen’s fingers tightened slightly against the chair at her side.
And for the first time that evening, she prayed to the goddess quietly.
She prayed for Lyria not to fall for this obvious trick. Not here, not now, and not in front of people who would gobble her failure up like a spectacle. She prayed for Lyria to stand still.
Around her, Mercer’s Row began to quiet again.
Not because they had run out of things to say.
But because something else had taken hold.
Anticipation.
Sharp and waiting.
Because they all understood one thing: this was it.
This was the moment the question had been leading to.
The breaking point.
Or...
The refusal.
Helen swallowed. And she hoped that Lyria wouldn’t give her haters what they wanted.
Whether the goddess heard her, or whether Lyria simply didn’t need her prayer, she couldn’t say.
But on the veil, Lyria moved.
She leaned forward just like Duke Valenridge had done earlier, and she gave them an answer no one was expecting.
Letting them know that Princess Jacinta was the Crown Princess and she was but only a Moon candidate.
She let it be known that she did not choose the role, but instead her circumstances landed her there.
"She’s sidesteppin’ it," the wiry man whispered.
"Nae," Jacob said quietly. "She’s settin’ it straight."
On the veil, Lyria did not stop.
Her gaze remained steady and her posture unchanged as she answered the question. And then she relaxed in her seat and let it be known that she was not going to say much regarding it, because people will believe what they want to believe.
And more often than not, those who rush to defend themselves are the guilty ones, and so she would not say anything except what had already been said. But the role of Crown Princess suits only one person.
"She just—" Olly started, then stopped, a grin breaking slowly across his face. "Oh, that was clean."
Jacob huffed out a quiet laugh.
"Aye," he said. "Aye, it was."
"She didn’t take the bait," the silver-templed man murmured.
"She turned it back on ’em," the heavyset man said.
"Didn’t even raise her voice," the woman added. "Didn’t need to."
Brianna’s eyes were wide.
"She’s winning?" she asked.
Helen didn’t answer.
Because she was watching Lyria closely.
Because there was something else in what Lyria had done.
She hadn’t just avoided the trap. She had made it visible for everyone to see.
And when Lyria was done speaking, her gaze moved again, but if one wasn’t watching closely, they wouldn’t know, and then she focused on the interviewer.
"Is that all?" she asked.
And that was how the broadcast ended. The veil flickered, and then it went dark.
And then someone clapped... Helen, and soon the whole Mercer’s Row was filled with applause.
A smile broke across Helen’s face as she clapped.
"Aye," she said softly, almost to herself. "That’s my girl."
And voices joined her in approval as cheers and even whistles went off.
"She did it!" someone shouted.
"Didn’t let ’em touch her!"
"Left ’em standin’ there lookin’ like fools!"
Olly shot to his feet, raising his mug high.
"Drinks!" he shouted. "Drinks for everyone!"
Laughter followed immediately.
"On you?" Jacob called out, grinning.
"Aye, on me!" Olly shot back without hesitation.
The crowd erupted again.
Cheers answering him from every side.
"About time!"
"I’ll take two!"
"Make mine strong!"
The game had only just begun.
And Lyria already had supporters she would never have thought to claim.
