“Madeleine Arguin, I have already analyzed the handwriting in your letters. Do you truly intend to maintain this pathetic charade of ignorance?”
The Emperor’s voice was like a hammer, but Madeleine did not break. Unlike the Dowager, who was surrounded by witnesses and the damning evidence of the ledger, Madeleine only had her own letters to contend with.
“As my defense has stated, Your Majesty, I was angry,” Madeleine said, her voice trembling with a practiced, fragile vulnerability. “I used harsh words, yes. But who hasn't spoken out of spite in the heat of a cousinly quarrel? I had no intention of actually hurting Cornelia. I admit I was a coward for not stopping the Grand Madam, but I was not her partner. I was merely a bystander caught in her madness.”
A few nobles in the gallery nodded. In a world where every word was a weapon, "hateful thoughts" were common, even if they were distasteful. Without proof that she had taken a proactive step in the sabotage, the conspiracy charge was weak.
*If there is no body, there is no murder,* Madeleine thought, her heart racing. *And if there is no murder, they cannot execute me for a few angry sentences.*
She had been careful. She had never stepped foot in the sabotaged carriage. She had never touched the poison. Even the chandelier incident at *Twinkle* was a mess of circumstantial evidence.
“I had no desire to harm Cornelia’s child,” Madeleine repeated, dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief.
“Your Majesty,” the Dowager’s voice rang out, sharp and venomous. “This miserable girl didn't just 'want' the child gone. She urged me to ensure its death.”
Madeleine’s head snapped toward Bianca. The Dowager was staring at her with a look of pure, unadulterated betrayal.
“Madeleine was the one who suggested the doctor at 4 Bronze Road,” Bianca continued, her voice gaining strength. “She told me she had already bribed him. She said that if the carriage didn't kill the fetus, the doctor would 'ensure the womb was scrubbed clean' so Cornelia could never threaten her position again.”
The courtroom gasped. The Emperor turned to the Brant knights in the gallery. “Commander Chester, is it true? Did Madeleine Arguin attempt to lead the party to that specific location?”
Chester stood, his face a mask of iron. “It is true, Your Majesty. She was insistent. Had it not been for the Duchess’s slave, Sardin, we would have taken her there.”
Madeleine’s nails dug into her palms. *That doctor,* she thought, panic rising in her throat. *I should have dealt with him weeks ago.* She had expected her father to clean up the loose ends while she was in the Tower, but the Marquis had remained silent, abandoning her to the Emperor’s mercy.
“Marquis Philippe,” the Emperor commanded. “Bring the doctor from 4 Bronze Road here immediately. We shall hear his testimony.”
The trial was adjourned. For three hours, Madeleine sat in the silence of the prisoner’s cell, her mind a frantic blur of escape plans and prayers.
When Philippe finally returned, his expression was grim.
“Your Majesty,” the Marquis said, bowing before the dais. “The doctor and every member of his staff were found dead at the clinic. It was a professional execution. No witnesses, no survivors.”
The Emperor slammed his fist onto the arm of his throne. *Arguin,* he thought, his eyes narrowing. *He’s cleaning the slate.* The Marquis of Arguin had sacrificed the doctor to ensure his daughter couldn't be directly linked to a proactive murder plot.
But the Emperor was tired of the Arguin family’s games. He remembered Cornelia’s warning—the way she had told him that the Marquis was a snake in silk robes.
“Given the 'unfortunate' death of the witness,” the Emperor said, his voice cold and final, “and the unresolved suspicions surrounding her actions, Madeleine Arguin will be stripped of her noble standing and imprisoned in the Imperial dungeons indefinitely. If a body is found and her guilt is confirmed, she will face the executioner.”
He then turned to the Dowager.
“Bianca Marsha Brant. For the attempted murder of an Imperial Princess, the conspiracy to terminate a royal pregnancy, and the theft of Imperial property, you are hereby stripped of your title and status. You shall be known only as a commoner, and you are sentenced to life imprisonment. Furthermore, the Crown hereby seizes sixty percent of the Brant liquid assets to repay the dowry of the Princess you have 'lost'.”
***
The aftermath of the trial was a firestorm. The Brant name was a joke in the salons, and the Arguin family had retreated behind their manor walls.
Eric watched the procession of guards leading his "mother" to the underground cells. He didn't feel relief. He only felt an echoing, hollow rage. The doctor’s death was too convenient. Madeleine was still alive, and the truth of Cornelia’s disappearance was still buried in the river mud.
He moved through the palace with the silence of a shadow, reaching the deepest level of the dungeon before the shift change.
Bianca sat in her cell, her fine silk dress now stained with the grime of the dungeon. She was staring at the wall, her mind still clinging to a single, desperate hope. *My real son. Zenon said he’s in the North. He’ll come. He’ll take the Brant title from that fake and set me free.*
“Mother.”
Bianca looked up, her eyes widening. A man stood at the bars, his hood pulled low.
“Eric!” she gasped, rushing to the iron grating. “You’ve come! You’ve realized your mistake! You’ve brought news of my real son, haven't you?”
The man reached up and pulled back his hood. It was Eric—the current Duke—but his face was a mask of cold, mocking pity.
“You must have been through a lot, Bianca,” Eric said, his voice a low, terrifying rasp. “Not being able to tell the difference between real and fake. It must be hard, waiting for a savior who doesn't exist.”
He reached through the bars and shoved her hand away with a violence that made her stumble.
“Zeno's letter was a lie, Bianca. A trap set by Cornelia herself to see how quickly you’d betray the 'son' you raised for a ghost. There is no biological heir. There is only me. And I am the one who is going to ensure you never see the sun again.”