Chapter 11
I watched Prince Anderic and Noah leave, their retreating backs a welcome sight. My attention snapped back to Gareth, who was practically groveling at my feet, blubbering his gratitude like a child who’d just been saved from the boogeyman.
“Thank you for saving me, my lady,” he gushed, his eyes wide with relief.
I barely registered his words as my gaze drifted to the barmaid’s face. An ugly bruise was blooming across her cheekbone. A familiar anger coiled in my chest, hot and venomous. Without sparing Gareth another glance, I strode towards the trembling woman.
She trembled as I approached, no doubt expecting more abuse. She flinched as I gently took her chin in my hand, examining the discoloration spreading across her cheekbone.
“It’s going to turn blue,” I murmured, my voice soft but my insides churning with rage.
“Gareth, come here,” I barked, causing the barmaid to cringe.
Gareth froze, confusion etched across his face. The crowd, which had dispersed after Eric’s departure, began to gather again, drawn by the promise of more drama.
“Kneel down and apologize to her,” I commanded, my voice as sharp as a blade.
Gareth’s jaw dropped. “My lady, I—”
“Now, Gareth,” I snapped, my patience wearing thin.
The drunken fool stumbled over, reeking of cheap ale and fear. He dropped to his knees so fast I thought he might bruise them. Good.
“Loudly, Gareth. I can’t hear it,” I drawled, relishing the way he squirmed under my gaze.
Red-faced and stammering, Gareth dropped to his knees. “I… I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“Oh, come now,” I drawled. “Put some feeling into it. Make us believe you’re not just a brute in nobleman’s clothing.”
Gareth’s apology grew more profuse, if not more sincere. The barmaid looked on, shock evident in her wide eyes.
I pulled out my purse and pressed it into the barmaid’s trembling hands. “Go see a doctor,” I instructed, my tone softening slightly. She nodded, clutching the money like a lifeline, and hurried away.
I turned my attention back to Gareth, still kneeling in the dirt like a worm.
Leaning down, I brought my lips close to his ear and whispered, my voice dripping with venom, “Do not ever do that again. And if I ever hear you came here, your body will be found in pieces at the bottom of Calista River. You know I’m capable of that.”
Gareth’s face paled to a sickly shade of green, but he managed a jerky nod. I straightened up, flashing him a smile that was all teeth and no warmth. “Good.”
Turning to Laurel, who stood nearby with a mixture of awe and fear on her face, I said, “Let’s go.”
As we made our way back to my parent’s residence, I could feel Laurel’s questioning gaze boring into my back. No doubt she was wondering about this new side of me—a lady who defended barmaids and threatened noblemen.
Laurel’s stare was like a physical weight against my back as we walked. My maid wasn’t usually this quiet. Even after my recent personality exchange, she’d found her voice. The silence was starting to make my skin crawl.
I whirled around. “For heaven’s sake, Laurel, just spit it out before you burst.”
Her eyes were wide and shining, practically glowing with hero worship. Oh no.
“Lady Ilyana, that was amazing!” She launched herself at me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “The way you made him kneel and apologize! And how you helped that poor woman! You were like an avenging angel!”
I awkwardly patted her back, unused to such enthusiastic physical contact. In my previous life, I would have sneered at such common behavior. Now, a warmth spread through my chest at her genuine admiration.
“Thank you, Laurel, but it really wasn’t—”
“It was! You were magnificent!” She pulled back, her face flushed with excitement. “You would never have done that before.”
I winced. “No, I wouldn’t have.”
Laurel’s face fell. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“You’re right though,” I smiled, trying to ease her concern. “The old me was rather awful, wasn’t she?”
But that old me was dead. Now, I had bigger problems to worry about, like how to keep my family from ruin and myself from ending up in prison. Or worse, dead in a ditch somewhere in the fringes.
Again.
* * *
I trudged back home, my mind whirling with the day’s events. The familiar sight of my parent’s estate did little to soothe my frayed nerves. As I entered, a servant informed me that Father had returned. Perfect timing. I made a beeline for his study, my heart pounding with anticipation.
Please be something good.
I knocked on the heavy oak door, hearing Father’s muffled “Come in.” The study was dimly lit, the air heavy with the scent of old books and leather. Father sat behind his imposing desk, looking every bit the powerful minister he was.
“Father,” I greeted, settling into the chair across from him. “How did the trial go?”
He looked up from his papers, his eyes tired but satisfied. “Ah, Ilyana. It went… interestingly. Magnus will be returned to his residence and placed under house arrest while they reinvestigate.”
I raised an eyebrow, thinking. “House arrest? That’s good. At least he’s not on the row for execution. It’ll give us more time.”
Father nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Indeed. It seems your… concerns… were not entirely unfounded.”
“Oh?” I feigned surprise. “What happened? Do tell, Father. I want to know all the details.”
He shot me a look that was half-exasperated, half-amused. I couldn’t hide anything from him. “The prince and Lord Noah were there. Usually, King Arnald doesn’t involve them in trials like this. Maybe he wanted them to observe… or they are investigating.
I was there when one of Anderic’s men came and told him about the retrial. It was satisfying to see how his eyes turned wide.
“I should let you know that Prince Anderic and Noah are investigating Gareth,” I told him what happened today at the Meadows Inn. “You should do something about him.”
Father’s eyes widened as alarm set in. I sighed. Gareth really was involved. It would’ve been a disaster if he got caught today.
I leaned forward in my chair, fixing my father with a penetrating stare. “Father, tell me exactly how you planned Magnus’s embezzlement.”
Father shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the study as if searching for eavesdroppers in the dark corners. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across his face, making him look older and more haggard than I remembered.
“Well,” he began, clearing his throat, “I instructed Gareth to… ah… place some gold bars in the new furniture being made for Magnus’s residence. Since they were still settling in after moving back to the capital, it seemed… opportune.”
I stared at him, slack-jawed. Was he serious? My eyebrows climbed so high they threatened to disappear into my hairline.
“Gold bars in furniture? Really, Father? Did you perhaps consider hiding them under the floorboards or behind a painting while you were at it?” The sarcasm dripped from my voice like honey from an overturned jar. “How delightfully cliché. I’m surprised you didn’t leave a trail of breadcrumbs leading right to them.”
Father’s face flushed an impressive shade of red. “Don’t look at me like that,” he snapped, his pride clearly wounded. “I might be ambitious, but I’ve never framed an innocent man before. It was my first time.”
True, the people he went after were all those who had actually done something wrong. He would just conveniently reveal their misdeeds and climb the social ladder. But I was still baffled at his amateurish plan.
“Oh, of course,” I drawled, rolling my eyes. “Because that makes it so much better. ‘Your Honor, I’ve never committed murder before. It was my first time. Surely that counts for something?’”
To his credit, Father did look genuinely uncomfortable. “If you hadn’t thrown a tantrum to marry that good-for-nothing, Noah, I wouldn’t have had to do all this,” he grumbled, his eyes narrowing.
The words hit me like a slap. I flinched, my heart twisting painfully in my chest. It was true, wasn’t it? This whole mess, my family’s downfall, Magnus’s near-execution - it all traced back to my own selfish desires. My shoulders slumped as the weight of guilt settled over me like a suffocating blanket.
Father’s expression softened immediately, regret flashing across his features. “Ilyana,” he said, his voice gentle now. “It wasn’t your fault. I didn’t mean that.”
I managed a weak smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “Didn’t you, though?”
He sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. “No, I didn’t. I’m sorry, my dear. This… this is on me. I’ll make everything better, I promise.”
I wanted to believe him. Gods, how I wanted to. But I knew better now. I’d seen where this path led, and it wasn’t to a happy ending for any of us.
“How exactly do you plan to do that, Father?” I asked, unable to keep the resignation from my voice.
He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “I admit, the situation is… delicate. But I have connections, influence. We can still turn this around.”
Father’s expression grew serious. He drummed his fingers on the table, a habit he only indulged when deeply troubled. “Hmm, it’ll be harder to explain the money,” he mused, more to himself than to me. “I told them to put five hundred gold bars, but they overdid it and added a million.”
“Them?”
Father looked back at me, “Oh, it’s the Red Cross gang. They are kind of like a mercenary. They can do anything for a price. Gareth found them and did all the communication on my behalf.”
I blinked, my mind racing. My anxiety rising again. Father kept giving me heart attacks today. That didn’t sound right at all. “How did they get that much?” I asked, keeping my voice carefully neutral. “There’s a huge difference between five hundred and one million, after all. How much did you give them? And why didn’t you notice it before”
Father’s frown deepened, his eyes clouding with suspicion. “One thousand. I didn’t think something like this would happen. It only came up during today’s trial. I was quite surprised myself. I’ll have to ask Gareth. Or maybe …he really did embezzle.” We aren’t that lucky. But how ironic that would be. The man we’d framed might actually be guilty. Something didn’t add up.
Or someone else was involved. The thought hit me like a bucket of ice water. Did Magnus offend someone else? Someone with enough power and influence to frame him so thoroughly?
I could see the same thoughts reflected in Father’s eyes. He was no fool; he’d come to the same conclusion.
“Well,” I said, standing up, forcing a lightness into my tone that I didn’t feel, “if that’s the case then we’ll be free.”
And just like that, an idea struck me. What if someone really was involved? If I can prove that, then father won’t be implicated.
Find the real culprit. So, father’s head will stay on his shoulders. Easy. Sometimes, my brilliance surprises even me.
As I reached for the door handle, Father’s voice stopped me. “Ilyana?”
I turned, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, Father?”
“I do love you, you know. More than any title or position. You’ll always be my little doll.”
For a moment, I saw the man who used to read me bedtime stories and chase away the monsters under my bed. My throat tightened. “I know, Father. I love you too.”
* * *
As the carriage rumbled away from my family’s estate, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the melodramatic farewell scene I’d just endured. My mother’s tears, my father’s poorly concealed sniffles - you’d think I was heading off to war rather than returning to the palace after a brief visit home.
Before leaving, he told me quietly, “I talked to Gareth. He only delivered my messages and didn’t do anything else. Also, you don’t have to worry about him, he’s being taken care of.”
When I looked at him with wide eyes, he shook his head and said, “Don’t worry, I didn’t kill him. Why do you always think the worst?”
I settled back against the plush seat. Father’s words about Gareth and the Red Cross gang echoed in my head. Something wasn’t adding up, and I had a sinking feeling that we were all pawns in a much larger game.
“Oh joy,” I muttered to myself. Another delightful mystery to unravel. Because clearly, I didn’t have enough on my plate already. But if I could find out the real culprit I could save my family. But I wasn’t much of a detective.
The journey passed in a blur of rolling cityscape and my own sardonic thoughts. Before I knew it, the imposing spires of the royal palace loomed before ahead. Home sweet home. Or prison. Same difference, really.
As I swept through the gilded halls, nodding politely to the various courtiers and servants, I couldn’t help but marvel at how differently these very people would look at me once they found out everything.
I finally reached my chambers, eager to shed my travel-worn clothes and wash away the dust of the road. But apparently, the universe had other plans.
Just as I was about to change, a knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.
“Come in,” I called, barely suppressing a groan. Please, let it be Laurel with some hot water for a bath and not-
“Ilyana?”
Noah. Of course. Because why would the fates grant me even a moment’s peace?
I plastered on my most convincing smile as my husband entered the room. “Noah, what a pleasant surprise.”
He shuffled his feet, looking everywhere but at me. “Can we talk?”
I bit back a sarcastic retort. “Of course, darling. What’s on your mind?”
Noah took a deep breath, his face a picture of earnest discomfort. “About yesterday, it wasn’t what it seemed like-”
Oh, for the love of—I cut him off before he could launch into what was sure to be a riveting tale of noble intentions and misunderstandings. “I know, I believe you. Whatever you were doing there could only be for the good of the kingdom.”
Please, please take the hint and leave.
But Noah wasn’t quite done yet. “Ilyana, you’ve been nothing but understanding since the marriage,” he paused, his brow furrowed. “But I’ve again and again done something to upset you.”
I shook my head, trying to interject, but he barreled on. “So, I’ve decided we should go to Everard for our honeymoon.”
For a moment, I was certain I’d misheard him. Everard? Honeymoon? Was he out of his mind? I mean even he looked like he swallowed something horrible.
I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt, scrambling for a way to derail this preposterous idea. “Oh, Noah, that’s so thoughtful of you. But we simply can’t go now.”
His face fell, and I almost felt bad. Almost. Because he also looked relieved. “Why not?”
Think fast, Ilyana. “Well, you see, my friend Rosalind is in such a difficult situation right now. I couldn’t possibly leave her. You also know her right?”
I saw the flicker of emotion in his eyes at Rosalind’s name. Got him.
“Besides,” I continued, not giving him a chance to argue, “there’s so much happening here at court. The investigation, the retrial - we’re needed here, Noah. Our duty to the kingdom comes first, doesn’t it?”
He nodded slowly, looking both relieved and disappointed. I decided to seize the moment and make my escape.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” I said, already ushering him towards the door, “I really must freshen up and change. The journey was so dusty, you know how it is.”
“But-”
“We’ll talk more later, I promise,” I assured him, practically shoving him out the door. “Thank you for being so understanding, darling!”
The door clicked shut, and I leaned against it, letting out a long, weary sigh. “Well,” I muttered to the empty room, “that was fun.”
I closed my eyes, taking a moment to gather my thoughts. Between Noah’s misguided attempts at romance, the looming threat of exposure, and the tangled web of court politics, I was beginning to wonder if life in the fringes hadn’t been simpler after all.
Just another day in the life of Lady Ilyana D’Arcane, former villain extraordinaire and current reluctant heroine.