Prince Easton's voice broke the fragile stillness of the imperial court like a sword through silk.
"It is the truth, Your Imperial Majesty." His words rang clear, sharp enough to draw invisible blood. "Princess Althea had prior knowledge of the location of our hostage, Princess Maria. In fact…" He took a step forward, chin lifted, "she is the mage who helped Princess Maria escape in the first place."
A wave rippled through the hall. Gasps. Sharp inhalations. And then—whispers. Hushed, frantic, crawling from noble to noble like fire beneath dry leaves.
"Did he just—"
"Princess Althea? No, that can't be right…"
"She was often seen being friendly to that foreign princess, right?"
"Or maybe Prince Easton has gone mad."
"Or desperate."
"You can't deny that she does know magic."
"She has always been aiming for the crown, after all."
