"Do you deny it?" The Crown Prince’s voice echoed through the grand hall, each syllable deliberate, crafted to command. "The mockery you inflicted upon our Lady Saint—the future Crown Princess?"

Ravina nearly laughed. Future Crown Princess? How convenient. He had only just named her as such moments ago, yet now he wielded the title as if it had been carved into the kingdom's very foundation. Angelica stood at his side, eyes lowered, shoulders drawn inward—not a queen, not even a noble. Judging by the girl’s timid demeanor, she wasn’t capable of standing against him, let alone loving him.

It was pathetic. She was a puppet in this farce, and everyone knew it.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Ravina replied, her voice steady and carrying through the silent hall.

Calm. Collected. Not cowering.

The weight of the nobles' whispers shifted. Doubts flickered in their expressions, uncertainty creeping into the minds of those still willing to listen. How long would they stay on the fence?

"You tormented her," Jayson continued, stepping forward with the righteous air of a man who had already won. "Sabotaged her. Threatened her. All because you despised the idea of a commoner receiving more attention than you. Your unchecked cruelty sullied the good name of your noble house. It is an insult to your family’s legacy, to the divine, and to the throne."

His words were not for her. They were for the audience—a carefully rehearsed verdict, not an accusation.

Ravina’s jaw tightened, but she forced herself to exhale slowly. If she let him control the pace, she would lose.

"As far as I am aware," she said, tilting her head slightly in feigned curiosity, "I have never interacted with the saint before."

Jayson’s smirk didn’t waver. He dragged out his next word like a predator savoring its prey. "Really?"

The deliberate omission of her family title struck like a calculated blow. A public insult.

"You have been cruel and unusual to Angelica since the first day of arriving at the academy," he said smoothly, his voice dripping with authority.

"Well, that is news to me," Ravina replied, raising a brow. "I had no idea I could torment someone I’ve never met, much less interacted with."

A ripple of unease passed through the gathered nobles. They were certain this was House Ravenshield’s daughter. Black hair may not have been rare, but those purple eyes? A clear giveaway. And yet…

Had any of them seen her before? Had they actually witnessed the supposed cruelty?

Jayson didn’t miss a beat. He had prepared for this.

"And yet," he said, his voice rising with practiced conviction, "we have testimony. Witnesses who recall your actions in vivid detail."

The murmur of the crowd grew louder as figures began stepping forward—four noblewomen, escorted by men of considerable standing. A duke’s son. A count. Others of noble lineage. The women they escorted were not their equals, not their partners. They were props, shields, and proof all in one.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The moment they reached the stage, the men aligned themselves beside Jayson, forming a formidable wall of authority. Five against one.

Ravina took a slow breath, keeping her chin high. She couldn’t falter now.

A minor noblewoman stepped forward, her fan snapping open with a theatrical flourish. "I saw her," she declared, her voice clear and ringing with false confidence. "Lady Ravenshield tormented Lady Angelica. She humiliated her in public, spread vicious rumors—"

"Ruined her gowns," another woman added seamlessly. "Threatened her. I recall servants whispering about it even then."

The accusations came smoothly, too smoothly, like a script recited over and over.

It was all nonsense. And yet, how could she prove otherwise? How could she disprove events that had never happened?

"Do you still deny it now?" Jayson stepped forward, his smile sharp and gleaming for all to see.

Ravina turned her gaze toward the noblewoman with the fan, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "And yet, you seem so confident in your memories." Her tone remained light, almost amused, as if the entire spectacle was little more than a passing curiosity to her.

"Tell me, then—when was it? The first time I humiliated her? You recall it so vividly, so surely, the date should not escape you."

The noblewoman froze. Her fingers tightened around the handle of her fan, the ornate accessory now trembling slightly. She turned her eyes toward the prince, clearly seeking direction.

Weak. She couldn’t even think for herself.

But Jayson had expected resistance.

"We are not here to entertain tricks," he interrupted, his voice cutting through the moment with surgical precision. His tone rang with authority, dismissing Ravina’s words before they could gain traction.

"You will not twist words to escape justice. The day and time? What a ridiculous thing to demand!"

Ridiculous? Ravina exhaled, spreading her hands in mock relief. "So I am to be judged without evidence? I see. But can any of them answer?"

She didn’t look at Jayson. No, she turned to the crowd, addressing the nobles who had watched this farce unfold. Some doubted her already, and others might still, but she needed to sow those seeds of doubt deeper.

"You dare turn your head?" Jayson spat, his composure beginning to fray. "Is the weight of your guilt so heavy that you cannot face your accuser? Are you even a noble?"

Ravina almost smiled. "What an excellent idea."

He had been the one to turn the audience against her, so why should she not lean into it?

She turned, her eyes locking onto Angelica.

"If I wronged you, Lady Angelica," Ravina said, her voice soft, almost imploring, "tell me."

The hall fell silent. Every gaze flicked between the two women.

Angelica froze, her hands trembling as she clasped them together. She stepped back, shoulders shrinking inward, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

"Do you see?" Jayson roared, his voice trembling with frustration. "Even now, you try to coerce her! You twist the truth to suit your games. How petty can you be?"

His demand echoed through the hall, but Ravina didn’t flinch.

Instead, she smiled—a small, subtle curve of her lips that burned with quiet satisfaction.

Jayson was angry.

He never expected this, did he?

And it was his fault. He should have ensured Angelica was on the same page. He should have prepared her to lie as well as he did.

The truth? Ravina had already lost this battle.

But in that single moment, the girl’s trembling silence spoke volumes.

And that? That was her small victory.

"You have not even begun to repent for your crimes," the Crown Prince’s voice rang through the hall—cold, righteous, but strained. "And so, it falls within my power—my duty—to cast judgment upon you."

The murmurs of the nobles stilled, every gaze in the chamber locked onto him, waiting for the final decree.

"I hereby cast you from this kingdom. You will never again set foot upon these lands, never again stain its soil with your presence. Never again will you be allowed to poison its people with your wretched deviancy!"

The prince’s breath was ragged now, strained from the weight of his command, the halls echoing with his voice.

"Ravina Rose Ravenshield," he declared. "I, Jayson Ser Loskri Nevarius, banish you from this land."