The council chamber smelled of candle wax and polished wood, but Lysandra barely noticed. All she could hear was the echo of her heartbeat, hammering like a drum of war.
Twelve councilors sat in a semicircle, eyes sharp, waiting. Serene stood silently behind her, hands folded, expression unreadable. Lysandra's stomach coiled. She had faced false accusations before—but this… this felt like history repeating itself.
The High Councilor leaned forward, fingers steepled. "Princess Lysandra, your brother lies in a critical state. You were the last to attend him. Explain yourself."
Lysandra straightened. Her pulse thundered, but her voice was calm. I cannot falter. Not now. Not ever.
"I… do not know what has happened," she said evenly. "I inspected every meal, every drink. I had trusted servants examine everything. I cannot explain the prince's condition."
A murmur rippled through the chamber.
One councilor, older, sharp-eyed, leaned forward. "Yet the prince is poisoned, Princess. Coincidence? Or negligence?"
Lysandra's jaw tightened. Negligence? I would rather die than let harm come to him again.
"I assure you, I took every precaution," she said, voice firmer now. "If someone wishes to accuse me, let them present evidence."
The councilor's lips thinned. "Evidence is not always necessary. Suspicion is enough to preserve the crown."
Lysandra's eyes narrowed. Suspicion is enough… That had killed her once before. Not this time.
A younger councilor whispered something to his neighbor. Lysandra caught only a fragment: "The princess… she was here before the prince fell."
She felt her chest tighten. They already think I'm involved. History is repeating. Fate is trying again.
The High Councilor's voice boomed, silencing all whispers. "Commander Serene, you were present yesterday. Do you confirm the princess's movements?"
Serene's gaze met Lysandra's. There was tension there, an unspoken question: Trust her… or follow orders?
"I observed the princess closely," Serene said, voice low but precise. "She attended the prince as custom demands. I saw nothing unusual."
A flicker of relief crossed Lysandra's chest—but it was brief. The councilors were not convinced. Suspicion hung like a blade over her head.
Another councilor, younger and more reckless, stood. "Princess Lysandra, considering the prince's condition, the council recommends your immediate confinement until we determine the truth."
The words hit her like ice water.
Confinement…
The same prison she had faced before. The same walls. The same helplessness.
Her stomach turned, and her hands clenched into fists. No. Not this time.
She lifted her chin, forcing calm over the fury she felt. "I… understand your concern," she said softly, deceptively obedient. "But confinement will do nothing to save my brother. If you truly wish to find the truth, let me investigate. I will find who is responsible."
The High Councilor's eyes narrowed. "You would disobey the council's orders?"
Lysandra's heart beat faster. Yes, I would. Because if I stay here, Kyler will die.
"I will investigate," she said evenly. "And I will uncover the truth. But I cannot do so while confined. To save the crown prince, I must act immediately—and carefully."
The High Councilor's expression softened slightly, calculating. "Very well, Princess. You shall have… three weeks to conduct your investigation. After that, the council's orders for confinement will take effect."
Murmurs filled the chamber. Three weeks. A fragile window.
Serene's gaze sharpened, unreadable, but her presence was constant, a silent anchor.
Lysandra's mind raced. Three weeks… enough time to discover the truth. Enough time to protect my brother.
She allowed her words to mask her plan. Tonight, I will leave the palace—not as a reckless fugitive, but as someone with purpose.
Not as a runaway. Not as a rebel.
As a strategist. As a commoner.
As someone invisible—free to discover the truth, protect her brother, and stay one step ahead.
Her eyes flicked to Serene one last time. And if she is involved… I will face her on my terms.
The council had spoken, the accusations had landed.
But Lysandra had already chosen her path: calculated, deliberate, unstoppable.
Tonight, the palace would awaken to a princess… who no longer existed.