Chapter 22
“You don’t have to come,” Livia had said in the darkness the night before her return. The fire had burned down to a low ember, but still provided warmth. It had been late in the night, and they had settled down to sleep two hours ago. She had known Sen was still up. She hadn’t been able to sleep either. She hadn’t glanced over at Sen when she spoke and continued to gaze up at the stars glistening above.
“You are saying that again,” Sen said quietly.
“You don’t,” Livia had insisted.
“They won’t believe that you got away alone,” Sen had stated simply. She had glanced briefly over at him to see his eyes were close, his posture relaxed.
She huffs.
She knew that already. Who would believe the sheltered Livia managed to escape from her captors without help? She had no training and her magic had pretty much been nonexistent. Unless she wished to expose her miraculous magic expansion, Sen was needed.
Even still, she had to say it. She didn’t want to owe him more then he owed her. She didn’t want the extra baggage. She wasn’t at all worried about her long-standing companion changing once he entered the main base of the story. She didn’t care at all if Sen fell under the thrall of Amelia and turned his back on her as Rodale and Orin did. It was stupid and meant nothing to her. He was just another love interest. She hadn’t gotten attached to him at all. She wasn’t used to his presence by her side at all.
It wasn’t like Sen grew on her like some kind of fungus. That would be utterly insane. Livia was smarter than that. She knew better than to get attached. What was the point? He was practically Amelia’s already. Not that she ever saw him as hers, psh. Ridiculous.
“You helped me enough. I can go alone from here. I can adapt my story, change it so that my savior died protecting me,” She had said.
“No need,” Sen had turned over in his bedding made up of a thick blanket to stare at her, “I’m coming with you.”
Livia had scoffed, “Do you still think you owe me? You don’t. Your free Sen. You paid your debt.”
Go away. I don’t need you, Livia had thought in her head, ignoring how petulant it sounded.
Without his help, she would have never gotten a hold of such intel, of the memories she had in her possession. She now held a lethal weapon she could use against the royal family of Wisteria. Around her neck, in the small sphere crystal, was power over those who wished her gone.
Sen lets out a low chuckle and raised his hand so his palm was facing her. Even in the dark night, she could see the red mark indicating the blood pact, the bond he shared with her. It had darkened in color over the months, growing stronger.
“Not entirely free, am I?” He has said.
He was right.
Livia had gotten up then and shuffled over to him awkwardly only wearing the first layer of her dress, which clung to her pregnant belly. She ignored the small rocks that dug into the soft skin of her knees and hovered over Sen.
“Fine. I will just break it then. It had served its purpose.” She had reached out to grasp the suspended hand only for Sen to pull it away. It was a testament to how long they been together that Sen no longer bats an eye at her thin under-dress. Or the improper way in which she was rarely embarrassed.
“What are you doing?” Livia had snapped.
Sen hadn’t said anything at first. Simply stared up at her with his yellow eyes that gleamed unnaturally in the dark.
Livia, normally unbothered by Sen intense, silent stares, had shifted a bit and dropped her hand to cross them above her belly to better pout down at him.
“What?” She has asked after a beat of silence.
Sen mouth twitches before his eyes had squint up at her, “I can’t even see your face. Your belly is completely blocking the view. You must have gotten even bigger.”
Do you know that moment when the anime character has the red, cartoony vein pop up somewhere on their forehead?
That had indeed been one of those moments.
Livia had been so triggered she completely forgot about the original line of conversation and had been much interested in trying to beat Sen over the head with her pillow sack. They no doubt had looked like idiots running around a slowly dying fire with Livia spewing out words not meant for a lady and Sen laughing as he dodged her pillow sack. For a six-month pregnant girl, Sen had thought Livia had been surprisingly fast.
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Present
“When can my daughter return home, your highness?” Lynette instantly asks once mother and daughter had calmed down. Livia is quick to put distance between them once the scene is over but keeps up the appearance of being distraught yet relieved to be in the presence of her mother.
King Grail turns away from his secretary, his grey eyebrow quirking up slightly even as a polite smile pulls at his mouth.
“Miss Livia cannot return home just yet. Though she was granted another trial, she is still exiled and is breaking the law by being here. She will be housed in the castle until her trial and will under my personal protection until then,” He says.
Lynette isn’t pleased with this. Her eyes narrow before glancing from Prince Rodale and Prince Orin.
“Your highness, I must object to this. How can I just let my daughter stay under the same roof with those who saw her put in this dangerous situation in the first place? I must insist she returns home with me,” The Duchess says as she grabs for her daughters' hand and squeezes it none too gently.
Livia has to reframe from snatching her hand back on instinct and instead nods along, “I agree with my mother. I do not feel comfortable being housed at White Castle. I do not wish to impose any more than I already have.”
Not to mention the restraint it would take not to gauge out the eyes of either prince if they looked at her wrong for even a second, but of course, Livia does not voice this. Neither does she say she would much prefer a cold, damp dungeon than to linger in the presence of either Orin or Rodale.
King Grail strokes his chin, “Hmm, I guess it would be rather inappropriate, but it will only be a temporary stay. I will make sure both Prince Rodale and Prince Orin will be on their best behavior at all times, and if you wish, I will order them to keep their distance from Miss Livia.”
Lynette straightens her back, “Yes, I suppose that is reassuring.”
Prince Rodale bows, “I will do as my father wishes.”
Prince Orin smiles widen, “As will I.”
Lynette stares at them with shrewd disapproval, “Such obedient sons. But what use is that given the situation we are all currently in?”
She turns her gaze on King Grail, “Tell me, your highness, how am I to respond to learning that my daughter might have been falsely accused and punished? That she had been taken out of my care and thrown into the harsh world because the Crown Prince had made a mistake?”
King Grail smile thins while Rodale flinches.
“Duchess Valentine, please, let's not take this conversation in that direction,” The secretary was saying but Livia stops listening at this point.
Livia’s mouth almost drops open.
This woman...the gall.
Where was the protective persona when Livia had been dragged away right before her eyes? Where was this motherly figure when Liliana had to plead for her older sister by her lonesome?
Absent.
Completely invisible, she seemed to have turned, along with Duke Valentine, her father.
But now she kicks up a fuss.
When the Crown Prince has lost favor when her word against his actually means something. When the infamous Duchess Valentine has everything to gain, and nothing to lose. Her own daughter's life was not worth the gamble of displeasing those who had the approval of important nobles and the King himself. No, what would the poor Duchess do if she lost her carefully constructed footing? Better she had let her daughter fall then offer even a glimpse of her face in fear of being dragged down with her.
There was no doubt in Livia’s mind that her mother talked to all the right people and got a waft of which direction the air was now blowing before she arrived. If her mother was starkly showing dissatisfaction, then that was the general opinion in court as a whole. Lynette was never the type to gamble. Either she would win or she would win.
At the very least, Livia knows she has nothing to worry about come trial. She has at first been skeptical that Rodale had fallen in favor after he exiled her, even after hearing all the rumors, but today proved it to be true, and it seems her exile would push the original story forward instead of another event that should have taken place but haven’t.
She was a bit creeped out. Livia changed the story, but at the same time, she hadn’t changed anything at all.
Was it fate?
Was it just pre-destined to flow along as the OG story had?
Either way, that wasn’t really important right now.
Livia tunes in to the conversation she had completely zoned out of.
“I must insist my daughter be in the presence of my most trusted maids,” Her mother was saying, looking very determined with crossed arms and a raised chin.
“Duchess Valentine, that would be a breach...” The secretary starts to say, looking annoyed and fed up.
“That will be fine,” King Grail says, “Of course Mrs. Valentine is worried about her daughter. What mother would not be in this situation? I will allow it.”
Her mother nods, looking pleased, “Thank you, your highness.”
The secretary doesn’t look happy, “Your highness, Miss Livia is still exiled, and now she is to be put to trial soon. It would be better if we keep her isolated so there is no argument that there are biases or that she was influenced by outside forces.”
Livia perks up to this, and sets her red, puffy eyes on the secretary, “What bias? What influence? After my statement and the evidence I presented to you, are you seriously saying that this was all some kind of hoax?” She hisses, pissed off.
Lynette mirrors her daughter's glare, “How dare you! Is her state not enough to show just how serious this matter is? My daughter had been kidnapped! Taken by some unknown fiend that could be an enemy of the whole country! And you sit there and say that it is all just some act!?”
The secretary wilts a bit under mother and daughter venomous stare, but straightens his back, “I did not mean any insult. I had simply hoped that there was no way Livia’s statement could be clouded in any way.”
“Yes, by doubting the word of my daughter, who could have just as easily went about her life without bringing this dire circumstance to your attention!” Lynette says, playing the role of a protective and supportive mother well. She starts spouting off in a way she never would have, much less for the daughter she had turned her back on.
“My dear Livia went a whole year away from her family! How my sweet girl must have struggled without her mother and father there to protect her! She was no common girl. She had been raised as the heir of Duke Valentine. She was an aristocratic child protected since the day she was born and your son,” She jabs a rude finger at King Grail, “Had ripped her away from all that she knew, and tossed her to be taken advantage of, stolen. And now she has to sit here to be insulted further after all she has gone through!” Her voice becomes louder and shrill near the end.
The room grew tense and uncomfortable and not a single person could maintain eye contact with Lynette seething eyes. She was a mother enraged, a mother on a warpath. Or at least, that is the image she projected upon herself.
Livia was trying to hold back the sick bile that wanted to claw out of her mouth. Her stomach was turning from the very false display that her mother was putting on. If she spoke now, Livia was sure she would puke all over her mother's pretty dress, and she knew Lynette's righteous fury would easily transfer onto her if she did. So, she remains quiet and pale next to her raging mother.
The Duchess Valentine levels a bold glare on King Grail, “I really do not see you taking this matter seriously, your highness.”
King Grail face stiffens, “Now Mrs. Valentine, I am doing all that I can–”
“Then why are we huddled in some backroom behind your throne? Where are the official investigators? Where is the general? Where is the secretary of the state? Where is the chancellor?” Lynette asks, each question like a jab of a knife.
Livia glances up, curious despite her rolling stomach.
Her mother made a good point, but Livia already knew the answer.
“We had hoped to make this particular discussion private for Miss Livia’s sake,” King Grail says, his voice steady despite Duchess Valentine's rudeness. He seems more exasperated then insulted, understanding, even.
“Once we were finished speaking to Miss Livia, all the right people were to be brought in on the matter. I had hoped for Miss Livia to not be put under unnecessary pressure,” King Grail continues.
The Duchess huffs, but accepts the explanation, “If that is so, then the discussion is over, correct? Just how long will you keep my daughter in this stuffy room? I’m sure she wishes to rest after the day she’s had.”
King Grail holds up a hand to stop the secretary from speaking, “Of course, Mrs. Valentine. I will not hold Miss Livia up any further.” He gestures to one of the guards, “Have Miss Livia taken to the Silver Apartments on the north side of White Castle.”
Rodale drops his hand from his sword while Orin smile drops.
“Father, you cannot mean...!” Rodale protests.
“Father, is that really wise?” Orin says.
King Grail shoots them a flat stare, and they fall quiet.
But Lynette looks happy, “Well, if that is to be the case, then I am assured that you are quite serious, your highness. My daughter will be well protected under your care.”
Livia blinks. What? Did she miss something?
“Of course, I am, and of course, she will be,” King Grail says, his face set in hard lines and his voice stern, “My sons have possibly made a grave error that hurt one of the many people under my care, which have led to the discovery of dangerous treachery. I will not rest until all guilty parties have been found and put to justice. And should it be proven that Livia had been falsely punished, rest assured, Mrs. Valentine, even the Crown Prince is not immune to being disciplined.”
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Livia hears the truth ring out in that statement, and for the first time, she is happy that she returned to the home that betrayed her.
“That is good to hear,” Livia says, honest, “A good ruler anyone would make when they put the need of their kingdom above their own.”
King Grail inclines his head, “As any ruler should.”
Livia stands when the guards approach them her mother chooses that moment to acknowledge Sen.
“Dear daughter, who might this handsome young man be?” The Duchess asks, her gaze flicker to her daughter’s stomach, looking a hint of hopeful, “Perhaps, he is the father of that child you carry? Your husband?”
Lynette was too impatient to get her daughter alone to ask the question. Who knew how long that would be? Three days? She could not wait for a second more. She must know. She ignored the other four men in the room in the guards as she looked Sen up and down. He was no son of an aristocrat she knew, but he could just as easily still be one. A foreign one perhaps? The Duchess would even accept him being a baron son. As long as he had come inkling of status and wasn’t a commoner. As beautiful as the young man was, his genes met nothing if he was just some unknown commoner.
The Duchess didn’t even humor the idea that her daughter was bigoted with a bastard. It was too devastating to even think about. She would accept even a commoner as long as they were married, good and proper like.
In the same room, the other occupants remain silent and still. As if even one of them so much as twitch, it would break the illusion that they were not there. They follow the conversation with keen ears and even keener eyes.
Though Sen knew the question had been coming sooner rather than later, even expected it, he can’t help his face reddening slightly as he shuffles a bit in his seat. He clears his throat as if he was going to answer himself, but remembers what Livia told him and frowns.
“Remain silent,” Livia had told him outside the White Castle, “I will do all the talking.”
Sen hadn’t been pleased.
“Why?” He has asked softly as a guard passed them, unaware of their presence.
“It’s easier this way. Your job was to get me here, to protect me on my journey...or so the story will go,” Livia had said, her gaze turned away from him as she peeked around the corner.
“Why?” Sen has asked again, annoyed.
Livia had huffed, “Were you not listening when I explained all of this before? Ugh. Enough. Give me your hand, I need to break the blood pack.”
Sen had let her grabs his hand, but only to close it around her in a tight grip, “I already said no to that. Weren’t you listening?”
Livia's mouth has scowled as she tried to pry open the palm of his hand with her other one, “Why are you being like this!? I told you, your services will no longer be needed once I returned. This is the end of our journey. Shouldn’t you be happy? This way you no longer have to pretend to be my champion.”
Or my friend, Livia had thought but did not add.
Sen had easily kept his fist closed around her hand, “I’m not pretending,” He had said.
Livia had stopped struggling with his hand to stare up at him. Her eyes had scanned over his face, and for a moment, he had thought she had finally believed him this time. But then she sneered and snatched back her hand.
“Stop saying that. I hate it when you do,” She had told him.
She had thought it was useless words. She knew guilt was a strong motivator, so was a pity. Sen had broken her trust, forced her to speak when she never would have, and then declared he would stay by her side and ‘repent’.
But Sen had done exactly as he said he would. He had helped her find Beth and even helped her investigate the matter of her botched exile. They followed clues all over, and sometimes they had to be in disguise or keep low, but Sen was there regardless and had even help point her in the right direction when she hit a roadblock.
He had stood by her even when she puked in his shoes when she forced him to carry her up that mountain because her feet ache, when she whined about her sore back, when she complained about her swollen ankles, when he pestered him to massage her feet, when she asked him to get that special chicken on a stick all the way on the other side of town in the middle of the night and was generally a bitchy hormonal pregnant teenager with an attitude problem.
Livia had shown him the worst of her, waiting for the moment where he would become fed up and drop the act, but Sen was stubborn and hadn’t budged.
She still hadn’t believed him though, even after everything.
“I can’t lie,” Sen had told her and pulled her close when a guard paused and scrutinize the corner they were in.
Livia had snorted, “You can’t lie outright.”
Sen sighs, his breath rustling her hair since her head had been tucked on her chin. He isn’t bothered by her stomach brushing against the flat plane of his. Used to the feel of the curve, and even the odd feeling of a small, foot jabbing against him through the thick walling of Livia’s stomach.
“Your tiring,” He said simply.
Livia had smiled in his chest, triumphant even as she pats idly at her stomach were her son is currently tap dancing. Sen had never been able to argue with her long. Then her eyebrows had scrunched up. Did this count as a win? She tried to tug her hand back, but Sen hadn’t let it do. She pouts. A tie then.
She had opened her mouth to push the issue further but, In the hall, they had heard the councilor calling court to a close. Livia’s heart jumped in her chest and she swallowed.
Showtime then.
The discussion would have to wait for another time.
Livia glances down at Sen in the present, and then back to her mother, “No, mummy.” She says, her voice low and almost childish as she clutches at the fabric over her stomach, “He is just my savior.”
Lynette appeasing smile freezes on her face, “Then who...?”
“He is dead,” Livia says, voice flat and brittle.
Lynette smile returns, almost like a blooming flower, “That is horrible, my dear. I’m sure your late husband is devastated that he will not see the birth of his child-”
“He was no husband of mine,” Livia cuts in sharply, her eyes turning poisonous.
Elias had owned her.
Elias had been her jailor.
Elias had been her protector.
Elias had neem her friend.
But he had not been her husband.
Trust, companionship, equality, and love, had no place in the relationship between Elias and her. It was too tainted. Darken by a shadow even before she truly knew him. Livia could not and would not pretend it had all be roses and fairy tales, as if living by Elias's side hadn’t been a shackle in itself, as comfortable as it had been. She would never forget the harsh reality. Despite coming to like Elias as a person near the end, he still had never sought to make her his equal. To break the bonds, he had around her neck and wrists until he was forced too.
“That cannot be,” Lynette says, standing. She grabs her daughter's shoulders, shaking her a bit as her face pales.
“Sweet girl, surely you were married? Surely you did not beget this child without a husband? It is impossible!” Lynette cries.
Livia's eyes turn cold, “Of course you would say that, mother. Why would I expect anything more?” She says in a low whisper.
“Listen to me, girl, you must have had a husband! What is his name? How did he die?” The Duchess asks frantically before her eyes fall to Sen, “Are you sure it is not this young man here? There is nothing to be ashamed, of, dear daughter. Mother will accept him into our family, all you have to do is speak the truth,” Lynette says with a falsely kind tone, her eyes going wide and slightly crazed.
What use was this girl (her daughter) to her if she had been tainted outside of wedlock? Lynette could accept a marriage with a commoner, she could! She would bite her tongue and accept this unknown blood into her family with welcoming arms all the while she could have an annulment in the makings in the background without dropping her smile. She could fix that mistake. Her daughter had no choice, she had to marry the man who got her pregnant. He pressured her even! Lynette could come up with many excuses.
But she could not fix a bastard child.
She could not fix a noble daughter who had already been used outside of wedlock.
And at such a disgustingly young age as well!
If news got out...Lynette sways on her feet.
She would be the laughing stock of the whole capital. Even commoners would look down on her!
It couldn’t be! It couldn’t!
“Your priorities are as fucked up as ever.”
Lynette's attention snaps to her daughter, shocked.
“What did you just say?” The Duchess asks, shock quickly transforming into anger. But Livia only blinks in confusion at her, looking all the part of a sad and ashamed daughter.
“What? I didn’t say, anything mummy.”
Lynette softens her expression. She must have heard wrong. Her daughter would never speak to her mother in such a crass and insulting way. Livia was the girl she raised. Well-bred, and just waiting to be snatched up by the right suitor.
Or at least, she was.
Duchess Valentine eyes her daughter like one would a stranger, her eyes going cold and calculating for a brief split second before she puts on a warm, motherly smile.
She pointedly looks at the audience surrounding them and says, “Well, we shouldn’t discuss such a matter in such important company.” As if she wasn’t the one who brought up the topic in the first place. She puts an arm around Livia and urges her forward.
“Come, dear, let’s get you settled in. I am sure you are tired,” She looks back at Sen, “You come as well. I must properly thank you for saving my daughter and bringing her back to me.”
But Livia doesn’t budge.
Lynette stares down at her daughter in confusion.
“Livia? What is the matter, sweetie?”
“You are right mummy. I should just tell the truth,” Livia says, staring down so her long hair covers her eyes. Behind her, Sen tenses.
The Duchess looks to him then down at Livia, feeling nervous, “I’m sure whatever you feel you need to say can wait after we leave this room. We mustn’t take up the time of the high highness any longer. Come, child. We must go.”
Lynette tries to pull Livia forward but Livia snatches her hand back and hugs herself.
Suddenly, Livia lets out a heart-wrenching sob as her knees give in. Sen quickly catches her before she can fall to the floor, but Livia all but yanks him down with her.
“Livia!? Sweetie?” Lynette says, alarmed.
Even King Grail seems surprised, “Miss Livia, is something the matter?”
Rodale and Orin stare at her with slightly round eyes, their expression nearly identical.
“I-I can’t keep this in any longer!” Livia cries, curling up as her eyes sting with more tears.
“You don’t have to do this,” Sen says in her ear urgently, his arms tightening around her. He had hoped she wouldn’t have taken it this far. That she wouldn’t do this to herself. They didn’t need to know. They didn’t need to be told.
Livia shakes her head.
Sen was right.
She pretty much hinted at it, and no doubt they suspected.
But even in her world of fluid modernity, of open-mindedness and acceptance, this was no easy thing to say. And maybe because of that, she felt the need to say it. To throw it in the faces of those who made her grow through it. To force them to face the actions they so callously made with no regard to how exactly it would end for her.
But maybe they did know. Maybe they knew exactly what they were doing? To them, it would seem like the ultimate humiliation. Maybe they thought it was no less then she deserved?
It didn’t matter.
She would make them face it.
Her horrible, selfish mother who only cared about her own wellbeing.
King Grail, who thought he was being so fair and just, but who also hadn't lifted a finger to reprimand his own sons until the problem came back to his doorstep.
Prince Orin, that two-faced bastard who always despised her, even when they had been kids. Who put on a smile so fake it made her nauseated just seeing it. He was her number one suspect. If anyone could have been capable...
Prince Rodale, the righteous prick who had his head so far up his own arse it was all he could see. He never could see two inches in front of his own nose, so consumed by his own angst and woes. His hatred of her had been almost well deserved, but she no longer cared about it. Not after everything she had been through because of him.
“How can I face you knowing the truth? How can I go with you knowing that I am forever sullied? Ruined?” Livia says around wet sobs. Her hands were trembling and felt cold as ice, her heart has turned to stone and feels like it fell into her stomach. In contrast to her appearance, she felt frozen inside, detached.
Lynette doesn’t bend her knee even to her outworlds distraught daughter. She bends forward a bit as if to come close, but yellow eyes peer at her with such deep contempt from behind her daughter she flinches back, startled.
“Dear, I’m sure whatever you must say, you can say later,” Lynette says, not moving any closer. She frantically glances at the others in the room and sees King Grail has stood up to come closer, looking for all the world concerned.
“Miss Livia, you don’t have to say anything,” He says, his voice somber, “It’s alright. We don’t need to know.”
Livia just cries harder, curling up into Sen.
Orin and Rodale seem caught off guard, unsure as they stared at her then away, then back again. The secretary had left, quickly shuffling out the guards with him and closing the door silently behind him. King Grail look to his sons, his expression darkening.
“You two, you should leave,” He says darkly.
Rodale blinks stupidly, “Father...what-”
“I was raped.”
Rodale's head whip around to stare at Livia, his face paling. King Grail closes his eyes, pained as Orin just exists as a rock would.
“What?” He asks faintly, taking a step back.
Livia lifts her head and meets his eyes then.
“I was raped,” Livia says, her voice clear and loud in the sudden quiet of the room.
Rodale's eyes are round his blue irises visible wavering. He takes another step back, and then another as she shakes his head.
“No,” He says, denial thick in his voice, “No, that’s impossible. You were just exiled.”
Livia isn’t crying anymore. She throws her head back and laughs. It sounds maniac and completely deranged. As is her expression when she levels her gaze on Rodale once more. Her normally pale face is red and splotchy, her eyes and cheeks puffy from all the crying, but her red mouth was stretched wide in a large grin.
“No?” She giggles, “Did you really just say ‘no’?”
Rodale swallows, his throat suddenly dry, “I-I saw the paperwork done. I watch you leave with the others. You were headed straight for Zinnia.”
“Saw that, did you?” Livia says, staggering to her feet, “So you were there, and therefore everything that happened after I left your sight must be untrue? Is that it?” Her voice was low, almost a sweet purr if you ignore the poison dripping from every word.
“You were checked into Zinnia. Your brace indicated you made it there,” Rodale says, and wonders why he is still talking. Every word he speaks does nothing but infuriate Livia further and incarcerate himself.
“Oh, wow. Amazing,” Livia says, clapping her hands with a horrible smile, “So it must be true!”
Her smile plummets from her face, “Are you a fucking dumb ass?” She asks calmly.
Lynette comes alive then, shocked out of her stupor from hearing such language from her daughter, “Livia! Watch your tongue! You are still speaking to a prince!”
Livia whips around to glare daggers at her mother, “Shut up, mummy.”
Lynette falls back in shock, speechless.
Livia whirls right back around on Rodale.
“Were you there?” She asks between gritted teeth.
Rodale, wisely, decides to remain quiet. But Livia stalks forward and shoves a finger in his chest.
“I asked you if you were there!” She snarls in his face, her eyes alight with untapped fury.
Rodale jaw tenses. He says nothing.
“Answer me, you prick! Were you there? Huh!? Where you?”
“...no.”
“Exactly. You were not there when I was taken. You were not there when I was forced onto some retched ship. You weren’t there when I got sick and didn’t know if I would even survive the trip to sea. You were not there when we landed, when I was taken and forced into clothes and makeup your rigid mind could never dream up. You were not there as I was dragged forward, presented as some sort of trophy. A toy to be bought by the highest bidder. The place I was taken, there were many other women there. Some face I recognized to be from our own land. Women, stolen right under your upturned nose while you sit here none the wiser.”
Livia physically shakes were she stands, her face flush as her nails dig into the palm of her hand.
“I had thought if I had bowed my head, if I went unnoticed long enough, that I would be fine. That I would survive long enough to plan an escape and put the whole ordeal behind me as some fucked up fever dream,” Tears spring to her eyes, real ones.
“B-but I wasn’t,” She inhales sharply, a small hiccup escaping her lips.
Sen steps forward then as if to pull her back, but she raises and her hand to stop him. She wipes roughly at her face and glares at Rodale, who, for his part, hasn’t looked away despite the merciless truth being laid bare at his feet.
“I was raped in my own bed. The one place I thought I was safe.”
Orin turns away then, his eye closing on the sight of Livia, unable to see it anymore.
Livia laughs then, “What a dumb little girl I was. So foolish and unknowing. I couldn’t see the inevitable even when it was happening right before my eyes. I should have known better. I should have been stronger.”
“Sweetie, baby, we don’t need to know. They don’t need to know. This isn’t something men should be told. Just come with me,” Lynette pleads desperately, looking so ashamed and humiliated as she tries to tug Livia towards her.
Livia slaps her mother's hands away, and before Lynette can grab for her daughter again, King Grail intercepts her with a single look that has her bowing her head like a scolded child.
“I was weak,” Livia says, her eyes burning, “My arms were so thin, my hands so soft. Of course, I couldn’t fight that fucker off of me. But it doesn’t mean I didn’t try. I scratched him up good, but what was the point? He still took what I never would have given him. Raped me like it was just a normal occurrence. Like it didn’t mean a damned thing.”
“And you sit here, and dared to say ‘no’? To deny it like you had even a right to say anything regarding what happened to me?” Livia sneers at him, her face twists into something truly dark and fierce “You should be ashamed of yourself Rodale Franklin Silvan. Ashamed of your actions, ashamed of your words, and ashamed of how you show yourself to the world. You are nothing but a fake.”
Her eyes turn to burn a hole in Orin, “And you. You are such a coward, Orin. You can’t even meet my eyes, even though you sat by and watched your brother incriminate me all that time ago.”
As if to prove her wrong, Orin meets Livia's eyes, but they are dull and lifeless. Numb. Distant.
“What? You have nothing to add your brother's denial? You don’t want to goad him along this time?” She mocks.
“Is my story too hard to swallow? Do you not like the part where I admitted I was raped? Or was it the scary kidnapping that has you shivering in your leather boots?” Livia continues on.
When Orin says nothing, she stalks toward him, stops so she is right in his face.
“Look at you,” She says, lowering her voice as she gesturing at his stony expression, “You are so damaged, you know? If Rodale is the faker, then you are just the clown. Pretending to be something you aren’t. Desperately wishing that no one will notice what really hides under your skin. Maybe you even managed to convince yourself that you're normal. That you are really happy when Amelia and Rodale hang out. That you are perfectly fine to sit by and support your brother while he takes the throne. That deep down inside, you're actually a good person.”
Orin reacts then, his blue eyes coming to life to glare at her with such loathing.
Livia just laughs in his face.
“There you are! I was wondering how long you were going to hide in your shell,” She waves in his face, “Hi Orin, I’m Livia! Do you remember me? I was the little girl who you nicknamed Liv. You used to chase me around your mother's garden and braid flowers in my hair. You were so sweet then. I used to like you a lot more then I liked Rodale,” She tells him as if was sharing a good secret.
Her cheery smile turns stale, her eyes flinty, “But then you sought to get rid of me.”
Orin's eyes widen.
“Oh, sweet pea. You didn’t think I wouldn’t put two and two together?” She asks in a sugary voice.
“I didn’t,” Orin says, “I would never-”
“Save it, clown,” Livia says, her eyes rolling as she turns away from him.
She looks to the room then. The state of disturbance in the room was almost palpable. As if Livia had raged and started ripping up chairs and throwing vases out of the blue. She took in the destruction that she wrought, and dully realize that she might have revealed her hand too much. But she honestly couldn’t be bothered to give a single damn about it at the moment.
Despite her thundering heart, and her still flushed cheeks, Livia feels oddly calm. Almost relieved. A weight had lifted off her shoulders, if only for a bit.
She walks to Sen side and stares at Rodale.
“Apologize,” She demands primly, standing tall.
Rodale bristles on instinct, but then King Grail comes up to stand behind Livia, towering over her as he meets his son's eyes with one marked with such fury any injured pride Rodale has by Livia harsh words feels like nothing compared to the hell that will be unleashed on him by his own father if he didn’t obey.
“I am sorry. I spoke out of turn, Miss Livia. I had no right.”
“Robotic, and insincere,” Livia says instantly, and Rodale barely disquiets his glare.
She shrugs, “I guess I will accept it. Though the insult was grave and no apology from you could ever fix what has been done to me.”
Rodale looks down, uncomfortable, and lost for words at that.
Livia turns to her mother, her expression going frosty, “I guess we should get going, mummy.”
Lynette couldn’t even fix a half-hearted smile on her face. She met her daughter cold eyes with her own, “Of course, dear. Let us leave.”
Sen left with them, but not before he got a glimpse of King Grail descending on his sons like a tiger with newly caught prey.