Adaline stood in the center of the grand courtroom; her wrists bound in heavy iron shackles that weighed down her spirit as much as her body. Around her, rows of high-backed chairs filled with lavishly dressed nobles formed an oppressive circle, their faces a blend of disdain, curiosity, and thinly veiled delight. They had come for a spectacle, and Adaline was to be their entertainment.
The marble columns that lined the room stretched high towards a vaulted ceiling painted with scenes of victory and justice—an ironic backdrop for what was about to unfold.
As Adaline was led to the defendant’s stand, a murmur rippled through the crowd like the hiss of a serpent. It grew louder with each step she took. the nobles leaning toward one another, their whispers carrying over the polished floor like the rustling of dead leaves. "Is that really her? The princess accused of murder?" a noblewoman whispered, her eyes narrowing as she gazed at Adaline with a mixture of curiosity and contempt. "Yes, the abandoned princess," another responded, his tone dripping with disdain. "I heard she poisoned Prince Cassius out of jealousy, disgraceful."
Adaline's heart pounded like a drum in her chest, each beat sending shockwaves of panic through her. Her eyes swept across the room, desperate for a friendly face, for any sign of hope—but all she found were cold, judgmental stares, eager for her downfall. She knew she had to speak up, to make them understand. "Please," she pleaded, her voice trembling but firm. "I am innocent. I did not poison my brother!" Her words seemed to fall on deaf ears, the crowd erupting into hushed but heated conversations. The judge, an elderly man with a stern face hidden behind a powdered wig, slammed his gavel with a resounding crack that echoed through the chamber. "Order in the court!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. Just then, a maid was led into the courtroom.
Her face was pale, her hands trembling as she stood before the judge. Adaline recognized her immediately—the same maid who had served them tea that fateful day. The judge gestured for her to speak, his expression grave. "State your name and your testimony," he commanded. The maid swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "My name is Jacqueline, Your Honor," she began, her eyes darting nervously around the room before settling on the judge. "I was the one who served tea to the princesses and his highness crown prince Cassius on the day he was poisoned." The courtroom fell silent, every ear straining to catch her words. "And what do you have to say about the poisoning?" the judge pressed, his eyes narrowing.
Jacqueline hesitated, wringing her hands together. "Princess Adaline... she threatened me," she said finally, her voice breaking. "She said if I didn’t put the poison in Prince Cassius’s cup, she would harm my family." Gasps erupted from the crowd, and the murmur of voices rose again like a storm gathering strength. Adaline’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief. "That’s not true!" she cried out, her voice shaking with a mix of fear and indignation. "I never did any such thing!" The judge ignored her outburst, turning back to Jacqueline. "And how do you know this? Do you have any proof?"
Jacqueline nodded, her hands still shaking as she reached into her apron and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "I found this note, Your Honor. It was slipped under my door the night before the tea party. It has Princess Adaline’s handwriting on it." The judge took the paper and examined it carefully, his frown deepening. "This does appear to be the princess’s handwriting," he said gravely. Adaline felt a wave of panic wash over her. "That’s a lie! I never wrote that note!" she shouted, trying to step forward, but the guards held her back. Just then, the doors to the heavy courtroom doors opened again, and in walked Anastasia, her eyes red and swollen, accompanied by her nanny. The young princess’s steps were slow and hesitant, her face the very picture of innocence and sorrow. She clutched a handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes.
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"Anastasia?" Adaline whispered, her voice breaking. Anastasia sniffled, wiping her eyes with a delicate handkerchief as she began to speak. "I invited Adaline to tea that day," she said, her voice trembling. "I wasn’t even sure she would come, since she had been so distant lately. But I hoped… I hoped we could bond as sisters, that maybe her jealousy would subside if we spent more time together.” The nobles murmured among themselves again, some nodding sympathetically, others frowning in suspicion.
The judge raised a hand to silence them, his gaze turning to the nanny. The nanny stepped forward, her face grave as she handed over a stack of documents and letters to the judge. "These are the records, Your Honor," she said, her tone respectful yet firm. "They show how the poison was obtained, as well as instructions given to the maid on how to use it.” Adaline’s heart plummeted. She watched in horror as the judge sifted through the papers, his face hardening with every line he read. The walls felt as though they were closing in around her, the air growing thinner, colder. "No… this isn’t right," she muttered, her voice barely audible.
"I didn’t do this… I swear, I didn’t…" But her pleas were drowned out by the judge’s voice, stern and unyielding. "The evidence against you is overwhelming, Adaline De Elgiar, first princess of the Elgiar Empire by the court of jurors and by the state of law you are hereby found guilty treason by attempting to harm a crowned prince and of the murder of first prince Cassius.” "No!" Adaline screamed, trying to lunge forward, but the guards grabbed her, their iron grips pushing her to the floor. Her head struck the cold marble with a sickening crack, and she felt a sharp pain blossom across her forehead. Blood dripped down her forehead, warm against her skin, but the pain paled in comparison to the suffocating despair that crushed her chest
The judge continued, his voice cold and detached. "You are sentenced to death by execution, to be carried out at dawn three days from now." The courtroom erupted in chaos. Nobles gasped, some whispering to one another with satisfied smirks, others casting scornful looks at Adaline. "A disgrace to the empire," one noblewoman sneered. "She deserves nothing less." From across the room, Adaline saw the Empress, Seraphina, approach the emperor. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched her handkerchief, her voice loud and mournful. "Oh, your majesty, our poor son, taken from us too soon!" she sobbed, her eyes darting briefly to Adaline with a cold, calculating look, her eyes flickering with a gleam of triumph.
"And to think, I tried so hard to reach out to her, to bond with Adaline as a mother should. But now… now we’ve lost Cassius too." Anastasia ran to her mother’s side, her own tears flowing freely as she buried her face in Seraphina’s gown. "Oh, Mother!" she cried, her voice thick with feigned sorrow. "What are we going to do without Cassius? It’s so terrible!"
Adaline’s eyes widened as she watched the scene unfold, a chill running down her spine. As the nobles continued to bad-mouth her, calling her a disgrace and a murderer, she caught sight of the Empress and Anastasia exchanging a glance. For a brief moment, their tearful expressions twisted into something else—something sinister. Seraphina’s lips curled into a subtle, satisfied smirk, while Anastasia’s tears were accompanied by a barely concealed snicker. The sound of their mock grief sent a shiver through Adaline, her blood running cold as she realized the truth. "No… no, it can’t be," she whispered, her eyes widening with fear.
They had orchestrated all of this—the poisoned tea, the false testimony, the forged documents. They had set her up to take the fall. Before she could utter another word, the guards yanked her to her feet and dragged her out of the courtroom, the heavy door slamming shut behind her. She was thrown into a dark, damp dungeon cell, the iron bars clanging shut with a finality that echoed through the empty chamber. Adaline sat alone on the cold stone floor, her body trembling with a mix of terror and rage.
How had everything turned against her so quickly? How had she gone from being a princess of the empire to a condemned criminal awaiting execution? She pressed her hands to her face, her fingers sticky with blood from the cut on her forehead and let out a broken sob. She had to figure out how this had happened, how she had become the scapegoat in a twisted plot she couldn’t even fully understand. And now she knew the truth. They wanted her dead, and they would stop at nothing to see it done.
~ to be continued~