The palace library is quiet, bathed in the golden glow of candlelight. I sit at the long mahogany table, my quill poised over parchment, ink blotting slightly as I hesitate. Across from me, King Lucien stands, draped in his judge's hood, the weight of wisdom resting on his shoulders. His presence commands the room, not in an overbearing way, but with the silent authority of a man who has spent a lifetime deciphering truth from deception.
"Law of Evidence," he says, his deep voice steady, "is the foundation of justice. It is not what you claim but what you can prove."
I nod, scribbling furiously.
"Verification of facts is key," he continues, pacing slightly. "No judge relies on emotions. We weigh the facts, examine their credibility, and determine which side presents the most compelling truth."
I absorb his words, something about this lesson cutting deeper than mere academics. It feels personal, as if he's guiding me through something beyond the scope of my studies.
"But how is a matter truly judged?" I ask, looking up. "What determines the final decision?"
He stops pacing and turns to me with a small, approving smile. "The standard of proof. We decide based on the preponderance of evidence - what weighs heavier, what holds stronger credibility." His gaze is piercing, as if he's urging me to remember this beyond the confines of the library. "It is not about what you feel, Celeste, but what is proven beyond doubt."
His words settle into my bones, branding themselves into my mind.
"You will make a good judge," he adds, his voice softer now, almost... proud.
I open my mouth to respond, but suddenly, the room dims. The candlelight flickers, the air shifts, and the world begins to blur. King Lucien's form fades into shadow, his face the last thing I see before darkness swallows everything.
Then - light. Blinding. Cold. A sharp beeping sound.
I gasp awake, my chest rising in panic. The scent of antiseptic floods my senses, and the unmistakable stiffness of a hospital bed presses against my back. My vision adjusts, white walls coming into focus. My head throbs. I try to move, but pain radiates through my limbs.
I'm alive.
But why do I feel like I've just been given a warning?
Then, voices. Familiar voices.
"Oh, thank God," my mother's voice breaks with relief. "She's awake."
I blink, turning my head slightly. My mother is at my bedside, her eyes glossy with unshed tears, gripping my hand tightly. Beside her, Esther clasps my other hand, looking just as relieved.
"Princess…" Esther's voice is thick with emotion. "You scared us."
I exhale slowly. My body feels weak, but my mind is sharp. The accident. The confrontation. Nancy's words.
I don't ask about Cassian.
My mother strokes my hair gently. "How do you feel, my love?"
"Like I got hit by a truck," I murmur dryly.
Esther lets out a nervous chuckle. "That's… actually what happened."
I try to sit up, but a sharp pain shoots through my ribs. I wince, and my mother immediately presses me back down. "No sudden movements. The doctor said you need rest."
As if on cue, the doctor enters. He's middle-aged, with sharp eyes behind his glasses. He flips through my chart. "You're lucky, Princess. No major fractures, just bruised ribs, a mild concussion, and a few stitches. With proper rest, you'll recover fully."
I nod, but my mind is elsewhere. The accident was one thing but Cassian's lies and Nancy's revelation? That's the real injury.
My mother rubs my hand. "Cassian has been here all through. He just stepped out to change his clothes. He'll be back soon."
I don't react. I don't say a thing.
I close my eyes for a moment, steadying myself.
Because when Cassian does return - I will be ready.
The door swings open.
I don't flinch, don't shift, don't even acknowledge him. My eyes are on Ray, who clutches a bouquet of small white lilies, his face scrunched in deep concentration as he carefully sets them on the bedside table.
"I picked these myself," he says proudly, looking up at me. "Do you like them, Mummy?"
I force a small smile, brushing my fingers over the petals.
"They're beautiful, Ray." My voice is soft, warm, reserved only for him.
Cassian stands beside him, watching me closely. His face is weary, his usual confidence stripped down to something raw and uncertain. He has changed his clothes, but the exhaustion in his eyes is undeniable.
He clears his throat. "Celeste…"
I don't respond. I don't look at him.
Cassian shifts uncomfortably. "You've been unconscious for two days. The doctors…"
I gently tuck a strand of Ray's hair behind his ear, straightening the collar of his tiny jacket. "Have you been eating well, baby?"
Ray nods, oblivious to the silent battle playing out between the adults. "Yes! Auntie Esther made me pancakes this morning. But I missed you. When you get well, will you come home with us?"
I hesitate, but only for a second. "I don't know yet, sweetheart."
Cassian's jaw tightens. He takes a slow breath, his fingers curling at his sides. "Celeste, can we talk?"
Finally, I look up but not at him. My gaze lands on Esther and my mother. "I'd like to rest now."
Esther immediately understands. "Of course." She stands, gathering her things. My mother leans down, pressing a kiss to my forehead before nodding toward Ray. "Come, darling, let's give Mummy some time."
Ray pouts but obeys, squeezing my hand before following them out.
And then, it's just the two of us.
The tension thickens.
Cassian takes a step closer, but I adjust the blanket over myself, shifting slightly away.
The message is clear.
He exhales sharply. "You won't even look at me?"
I do. Briefly. But there is no anger. No tears. No accusations.
Just silence.
And somehow, that hurts him more.
"Celeste…"
I turn my head to the side and close my eyes. Conversation over.
Cassian stares at me for a long moment. Then, with a quiet sigh, he runs a frustrated hand through his hair.
"…I'll be outside." His voice is hoarse. Defeated.
I don't respond.
I listen as his footsteps retreat, as the door clicks shut.
Only then do I exhale, gripping the sheets tightly.
I won't cry. I won't break.
Not yet.