Chapter 24
Three days before the trial.
Rodale slams the door after he steps into the room, gaining the attention of Orin. The second prince pauses in his writing, looking away from the book he was studying.
“Brother,” Orin greets with a smile, “What a pleasant surprise. Is there something you need?” He asks as if it was just any ordinary day.
Rodale ignores him as his eye's cuts to the guard in the room. The one their father had personally assigned to both his sons just the day prior. The crown prince frowns when he does not immediately recognize his face despite him wearing the insignia of the kings' personal guard.
Stamping on the urge to demand the guard's name, he instead says, “May we have the room for a moment, sir? I need to speak to my brother in private.”
He had been trying to get Orin alone since yesterday, but not a single opportunity presented itself as there every moved had been watched with sharp eyes of all the inhabitants of the castle. Rodale was given little choice but to ask for privacy in his own home.
“Of course, your highness. I will be just outside,” The guard says with a face carved out of stone. He bows, and leaves the room shortly after, closing the door softly behind him.
“Orin,” Rodale starts to say, but the second prince cuts him off with a jovial ramble of words.
“Brother, it is so good to talk to you after everything that has happened, but I am rather busy with school work. Maybe we should speak some other time? Honestly, I think it is rather tedious to have so much work to be done over what I had hoped to be a break. But of course, as princes, we never have such a thing. Not that I am complaining. My, what lovely weather it is outside. Should we take a walk in the east gardens? I heard small sprits had been seen flying about in spotted roses, and now that I think about it, I could use a break.”
Rodale stares at his brother as if he sprouted a second head on his shoulders before he realizes as Orin's mouth continues to spout out nonsense, his hands are glowing with magic, silently casting a spell.
The second prince always had a particular talent in magic, always so crafty and creative in his use. Rodale remembers how frustrated their teachers would get during their childhood when Orin would do a spell in his own unique way, completely disregarding the standard textbook method.
It wouldn’t be long before the second prince was given the esteemed title as the leading mage of Wisteria kingdom.
In contrast, Rodale stuck to the rules strictly, almost obsessively. He followed the words of his teacher with needlepoint precision and never strayed away, or more correct to say, he never had the compacity to. Unlike his brother, he wasn’t imaginative or creative. But what he lacked in the arts, he made up for in combat.
“Yes, the weather is nice for a stroll,” Rodale says blandly, and Orin gets up from his desk, his smile widening.
“Great. We should be on our way then.”
They leave Orin study together, and the guards assigned to them fall in step behind them without a word as they make their way to the garden in the eastern section of White Castle.
Soon they arrive at their destination, and Orin points to the maze, “Let's go their brother. I heard they added on more to the original. The exit has been changed again.”
Prince Rodale nods, “Shall we make it a race?”
“Of course, what would be the point if we didn’t?” Orin says.
The guards behind them blink and glance at each other, confused. What exactly was their prince up to? Should they really be having a casual stroll at a time like this? My, how they seem so unfazed and uncaring. How irresponsible.
“We go on three,” Rodale says.
Orin smirks, “Three.”
The two princes’ suddenly dart off into the maze and disappear behind the tall walls of shrubbery, leaving their assigned guards behind in a matter of seconds.
“What!?” One splutters, looking around.
“Tch! Those brats!” Another says, sounding annoyed.
“Follow them,” The one with a face like stone says, sounding unbothered.
In the maze, in a small hidden corner not easily found, Prince Rodale and Prince Orin come to a stop.
“Brother, let me explain,” Orin says the moment they are alone, his smile dropping.
Rodale turns on him with a furious glare, “What did you do, you fool!?”
“I had done as you had asked,” Orin says, meeting his brother steely eyes with his own, his face unamused.
“You wished for her to be gone. To never see her again. For her to be able to never return,” He says as if Rodale didn’t know already.
“I just made it so,” Orin says like it was that simple.
“By kidnapping her!?” Rodale snaps, his voice a growl, “I had simply thought you intended to have her sent away, further beyond the borders of Wisteria, across the ocean! You could have arranged for it to be so. Without sinking to this level!”
“Oh, come now, brother,” Orin says with a cold voice “Let’s not pretend you had desired something as innocent as more distance between you and her. You had once been close to slaughtering her like a pig for all to see, but now you hoped to have her only exiled? Who are you trying to fool? It is only the two of us here. I had cast a spell so no one will find us or overhear us until it ends. Let us be honest while we can, yes?”
“This wasn’t a part of the plan,” Rodale says, his hands clenched into a fist by his side.
“There was no real plan, to begin with!” Orin says with a mean laugh, “You refused to say what you really wanted up until the end! You always play it safe, brother. Unwilling to fully cross the line, even when it would give you exactly what you wanted! We would have never been in this situation if you would have just made up your mind, and did what you truly wanted to do!”
“Do not stand there and pretend that this wasn’t your end goal, all along!” Rodale bursts out.
Orin blinks innocently, “I do not know what you mean, brother. I was just following your lead.”
“No. You were not, Orin. This isn’t just about me. It’s about you as well. You wanted her gone just as much as I did, maybe even more than me. You would have never taken things this far if you had nothing to gain.”
Orin shakes his head, “I would never cross that line. She had already made her choice. I just wanted to protect her, and getting rid of that girl did that.”
Rodale sneers, “Why not just speak their names plainly, brother? Livia was a menace to Miss Amelia. Terrorized her relentlessly, and all we could do was sit by and watch. Waiting for the one moment when Livia would inevitably cross the line. Once she did, we acted instantly. No doubt, that was our first mistake.”
“Even so, it had worked out as we wished,” Orin says bluntly. “Sure, we got backlash from the nobles and even some of the citizens, but we both know that would all calm down with time. Everything had gone according to our hastily crafted plan. It could have worked. It should have.”
“But then she returned,” Rodale says, pointing out the obvious.
“She shouldn’t have been able to,” Orin hisses, “I did not just send her across the ocean. I put her in a place she couldn’t have ever crawled back out of. It should have been a cage that not even the most powerful mage could have escaped from. She should have been broken.”
Rodale stares at his brother with wide, glossy eyes. Sees the feverish way in which they glow, just short of full-on maniac.
Had he always been like this?
His happy, composed little brother, always loyal to him, always helping him...was he really like this?
“Orin,” Rodale calls out his brother's name but says nothing after.
The second prince blinks once, and he is back to normal. The crazed look in his eyes gone in an instant, replaced by his usual bland but friendly smile.
“Sorry, brother. I got a little lost,” He says.
Rodale feels an odd chill down his spine, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. He stiffens and turns his gaze upwards, to a specific spot on the royal blue roof of White Castle.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
He sees nothing.
Oddly enough, he isn’t sure if his sudden bout of disturbance was because he thought someone was watching him, or suddenly becoming aware of his brother's state of mind. It all blended together.
“My spell will be ending soon, brother,” Orin says, drawing the crown prince attention back to him.
“We must come up with a new plan to combat the wrench Livia had thrown in our old one,” He continues to say, glancing in the direction Rodale had moments before. Like his brother, he also sees nothing.
Rodale stands stiffly, “Is there anything to even be done? We both conspired behind our kings back, acted selfishly for our own wishes. We are traitors, and we should be punished accordingly.”
Orin bristles at this, clearly not agreeing.
Rodale continues to speak regardless, his icy blue eyes pinned on the second Prince.
“But I have to ask, Orin. Did you really remove the tracking brace from her ankle? Did you really use your own blood?”
Orin offers his brother a vacant smile, “Of course not, brother. The residue of magic in my blood would be too easy to track back to me. I used another's.”
“Whose?” Rodale demands.
“Does that matter? It doesn’t concern you. The less you know, the better,” Orin says.
“Orin, we will soon be interrogated under oath. We will not be able to avoid the truth then,” Rodale says.
“Are you so sure that will happen, brother?”
Rodale looks bewildered, “What are you talking about? Of course, it will. It is the standard procedure.”
Why was Orin acting as if he hadn’t silently endured their father rath like Rodale had just a day before? The king had been serious in his threats. They will not be exempt or protected. King Grail had every intention on being active in the matter and took Livia allegations seriously.
Orin sighs, “Really brother, after all that time in court, and you still don’t know how these things work?”
Rodale scowls, “Just tell me already.”
“Father will not be asking for our official statements. At least, not yet,” Orin says.
“Why?” Rodale asks.
Orin shrugs, “I cannot be sure to the exact reason, but I gathered he does not wish to stain the family name any more than it already has been without actions. Keeping the details ambiguous, would be in the King's best interest in the beginning. At least to the public and gossiping nobles.”
“To sway the information to his liking depending on what he finds?” Rodale says, his expression was cloudy.
Orin snaps his fingers, “Exactly.”
“It seems so needlessly complicated,” Rodale says.
“But it is to our benefit,” Orin says with another shrug.
“Enough. All this talk is pointless. I will not lie to my king,” Rodale jaw juts out stubbornly.
Orin smiles, “Of course not, because then it really would be treason.”
“Why are you talking as if we aren’t the guilty parties? What have you got planned?” Rodale says, suspicious.
Orin smiles brighten, “Nothing, brother. I just ask that you do not incriminate us if it can be easily avoided. Do you really wish to step down as crown prince of Wisteria? Are you willing to have your title stripped of your person and all the hard work you have done over the years to disappear in a puff of smoke? What of Miss Amelia? Who will protect her from Livia’s rath if you are gone?”
Rodale mouth presses in a thin line.
“Brother?”
“Fine,” Rodale grounds out, “I will keep my mouth shut for now. But only to see if your schemes will play out as you no doubt hope them too.”
Orin claps his hand, “That is all I can hope for, brother. Thank you.”
He turns to a wall of shrubbery, and they could hear a voice drew near them, “Well, looks like time is up. We must be going.” Orin turns to head out. He is stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
“What is it?” He asks, not turning around.
“Do you not feel even an ounce of guilt for what you have done? For what your actions cost her?” Rodale asks, his voice unreadable.
“...Do you?”
“...”
“We shouldn’t dally. The guards will be here soon,” Orin says, cutting through the heavy silence.
The two princes leave their hiding place and soon are back in the care of the guards. They say nothing as they are berated for leaving their escorts behind. Rodale stares at nothing while Orin smiles as he always does.
Far above, hidden and unseen, Livia ends her surveillance spell with a flick of her wrist.
“Those bastards...” She mutters to herself.
She wasn’t even surprised anymore and instead focuses on putting the new information she gathered to better use.
This was the last piece she needed.
The finale nail in the coffin.
If pushed come to shove, and King Grail fails to enact justice, Livia would make sure the truth would be revealed.
And unlike yesterday, she wouldn’t hold anything back.
----------------------------------------
Two days before the trial.
Amelia had been summoned to White Castle to submit her official statement. King Grail himself questioned her, and what a strained meeting that had been.
It went unbearably slow as her horrible habit of stuttering when she is nervous acted up, but King Grail had been patient and even kind to her as she revealed everything that she could about her tumultuous situation with Livia leading up to her being poisoned at the debutante ball.
The old maid told her not to hold anything back. To go into as much detail as she could.
Amelia did as she was told, even if she felt embarrassed by it. No one wanted to talk about how they got bullied, and she was no different. But she couldn’t just stand by and let Livia get off the hook scot-free! After finally being able to stand up for herself at the debutante without anyone coming to her rescue, Amelia wasn’t going to back down now.
Still, she wished to never have to give another statement again if she could avoid it. It was so draining and left her feeling faint and a little sick.
After her, it was Mimi’s turn. Despite Mimi’s please, Amelia couldn’t accompany her and had to wait outside the room while she gave her side of the events.
As she was sitting, staring blankly at the wall opposite her, she heard footsteps approach her.
Amelia looks up on instinct and freezes.
Rodale paused briefly upon seeing her, his pale blue eyes widening only slightly.
Amelia didn’t even think.
She instantly got to her feet and rush towards him. She barely notices the guards by his side, or Orin a bit further back. None of that matter to her once he stepped in her sight.
“Rodale!” She calls out to him, her hand reaching out.
It had been so long!
She hadn’t even gotten a glimpse of him even at school!
But before her hand can reach him, it is grabbed harshly by a guard.
“Miss, I will have to ask you to stand back,” The man tells her, pushing her away none too gently.
Amelia stumbles and hits the floor with a soft, “Kyaah!”
She scraps her hands a bit, and water swims in her eyes. She stares at Rodale in confusion.
Wasn’t he happy to see her?
Wasn’t he lonely without her by his side?
Didn’t he miss her?
“Rodale?” She calls out, hurt.
But the Crown Prince does not spare her another glance and glides through the hall without a single word to her.
Tears stream down Amelia's pretty face, and she weeps silently.
A part of her is flustered for acting so obvious and making a scene, but everything had happened so fast. One minute she was on cloud nine, and the next she was crashing to the planet.
They never confessed to each other.
Never admitted anything, but Amelia knows the feelings she has for Rodale was mutual...or at least, that was what she thought. He had protected her when she was poisoned, had been willing to go to great extremes for her (though she wasn’t comfortable with that fact). She had seen it on his face, all that time ago, when she had still been weak from the poison.
He had been terrified at the thought of her dying.
His terror had been plain as day. There had been no denying it. After so many mixed messages and misunderstandings, Amelia thought she finally understood.
But then the news got out, and everyone hadn’t been happy with Rodale’s actions.
She understood his distance, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.
And now he is walking away from her as if she was just one of his many admirers, barely acknowledging that she exits.
Amelia curls up and weeps. She doesn’t see how Orin turns back to watch her, his gaze a complicated mix of emotions before they harden, doesn’t see how he keeps her in his sight until his view of her is blocked by a wall.
Amelia only comes to when Mimi rushes to her side, concerned for her.
----------------------------------------
One day until the trial.
A sharp knock on a heavy wooden door and then a shrill voice.
“Livia! How long do you plan to stay in your room! Come out this instant!” Lynette demands of her daughter.
“Mother, I am not feeling well today. Please let me rest some more,” Livia calls back, her voice muffled and sounding as if she just has just woken up.
“Enough! I am tired of hearing the same old excuses. Come out this instant!”
There is a moment of silence before Lynette hears a heavy sigh and the padding of bare feet on the wooden floor. A second later, the door in front of her is wrenched open.
The Duchess gasps at the sight of her daughter's swollen face, the dark bags under her eyes, the tangles state of her hair and the general look of someone who is in desperate need of sleep.
“Do you really wish for me to go out as I am, mother? If you do, I shall stalk out of these apartments right now if it so important to you,” Livia says threateningly.
Lynette all but shoves Livia towards the bed, “Do not be silly daughter. I had thought you were simply being lazy, but of course, this is a normal symptom of pregnancy. Please, dear girl, go rest.” She says as if it had been her idea all along.
Livia gives her mother a thin smile and says, “I will do just that,” before slamming the door in her face.
Lynette huffs, “Honestly. That girl is so dramatic. As if being pregnant is such a hardship!” She mutters to herself as she turns away. She sits in the living area, sipping on tea and flipping through the latest gossip in the paper when a sharp knock on her door is heard.
“Who is it?” Lynette demands, sitting down her tea.
The door opens to reveal King Grail's personal secretary.
Lynette instantly gets to her feet, her face brightening.
“Oh, it is you, good sir. What has the king said about my audience's request?” She asks eagerly.
“The king is available now, though briefly,” The secretary says, his eyes scanning the room.
Finally, the duchess thinks with an impatient look, I had sent that request days ago.
“Good, good. Let's go while his highness has the time,” Lynette says.
“Of course,” The secretary says, bowing a bit.
He leads the duchess out and soon they stand in front of two doors after walking for a while.
The secretary knocks once before announcing, “Duchess Valentine, your highness.”
The King looks up from the scrolls and papers scattered around his desk and beacons her in.
“Duchess, I heard you had asked to speak to me?” King Grail says, getting straight to the point before Lynette could even take a seat.
The Duchess smiles, “Yes, your highness.”
The King motions for her continue.
“Well, as we all know, your boys have put my precious daughter in an unthinkable situation,” Lynette starts to say.
“Yes, I am aware. You pointed out the same thing days ago,” The king says, already losing interest. His attention returns to the papers in front of him, reading through the statements.
“That is true, but we never went on to discuss just how you plan to rectify this. Beyond, of course, pardoning my little girl,” Lynette says shrewdly.
King Grail slowly removes his glasses from his face, rubbing at his eyes with a sigh. He should have expected as such. The Duchess of the Valentine household was a conniving as ever. How tiresome. He doesn’t even bother to reprimand her for assuming the outcome of the trial. At this point, there was only one way it would go.
Only those truly foolish thought otherwise.
“May I ask, what specifically you think still needs to be addressed?” King Grail says, staring at the Duchess with wry eyes.
Lynette smiles, and it is sour and unappealing.
“Of course, I could only mean one thing, your highness. The one thing that is important to ladies of my standing, the one thing that has been taken from my daughter without her consent. Ripped away.”
King Grail shoulders tense, his expression becoming uncomfortable.
Duchess Valentine leans in with a feral smile.
“We must discuss how exactly you and your sons will take responsibility for sullying my daughter, ruining her forever.”