The morning sun hadn't yet risen, but the palace halls were already stirring.
Clara stood before the Council's chamber doors, her fingers clenched tightly at her sides. Every instinct screamed this was a trap.
Alaric was beside her, dressed not as a prince, but as a ruler. His shoulders straight, his expression unreadable. But Clara knew better now—he was angry. Not just at Renley, not just at the Council… but at anyone who dared threaten her.
"You don't have to say anything unless you want to," Alaric murmured. "They won't touch you. Not while I'm here."
Clara's chest ached.
It was no longer about politics. It hadn't been for a long time.
The guards pushed open the doors.
Inside, the Council sat in cold, perfect rows. Lord Renley's smile was sharper than any blade.
"Lady Clara Whitmore," he greeted. "We were just discussing your mother."
Clara didn't flinch. "Then I suppose I arrived at the right time."
A quiet murmur spread across the room.
Chancellor Varrick raised a brow. "You claim your mother was a Crown Guardian. Do you have proof?"
Alaric answered instead. "I unsealed royal records myself. Lady Evelyn was tasked by the late Queen to protect the First Crown's legacy. Her death was not by accident."
"And yet," Renley cut in smoothly, "this girl claims the blood of a traitor."
Clara's voice rang out before she could think.
"She wasn't a traitor. She was silenced because she refused to be controlled."
Gasps echoed.
Renley leaned forward, his smile unfading. "And what about you, Lady Clara? Will you follow in your mother's footsteps?"
Clara glanced at Alaric. He gave a small nod—just enough for her to breathe.
"I'll do what she couldn't," Clara said clearly. "I'll expose what the Crown turned its back on."
The chamber erupted in chaos.
Renley slammed his cane down. "You overstep, girl!"
"I was born to," Clara shot back. "You made me kneel once. I won't kneel again."
Before more words could be exchanged, the doors burst open once more.
This time, it wasn't a guard.
A cloaked figure stepped in, face hidden—until the hood fell.
Clara's breath caught.
"...Father?"
The man's face was older than she remembered. Harsher. But unmistakable.
"Clara," he said softly. "There's more you need to know. About Evelyn. And about what she died protecting."
The Council froze.
Even Alaric was stunned.
Clara's entire world tilted.
She thought he was dead. She thought her mother died alone.
But now… the game had changed again.
[ To be continued....]