Shadow of the Prince

The Truth Set Free

Adonis clasped his hand over his mouth, the surprise of her betrayal evidently getting to him. A burning feeling of guilt began to build within Dal. He had given her a second chance when no others had.

Dal turned her gaze to the royal family, who wore equally suspicious expressions on their faces. She finally snuck a peek at the Magistrar, the pit of her stomach dropping out of her when she saw his eyes had closed, and his lips were drawn into a tight line.

He feared for her. She tried not to think too hard at why someone who had sold her out already might fear for more of the truth.

"Don't you think that is odd, Miss Peppercorn?"

She knew the king expected an answer, but she wasn't sure what she was at liberty to give. She weighed her options, thinking about her brother, and her family, and the starving people of Eidas who counted on her to somehow win the Prince's favor.

Dal swallowed hard.

"I admit I have lied. I have deceived everyone about who I am to some to protect others."

King Belatron laughed, the sudden sound booming in the mostly empty dining hall.

"We have established that you are a criminal, willing to wear the face of the Queen for your own needs. We now find that you're also a liar in your very own identity, deceiving the crown and those around your once again. You expect me to believe that I am to add self-sacrificial to your resume? Surely you do not think me so foolish. Come now, tell me which of these things don't fit?"

Adonis abruptly stood, and fled to the door behind her, leaving her alarmingly alone and bare on this side of the dinner table. Hot shame bit at her neck.

Finally, here she was caught in all her lies. Each step of the way, she'd felt dirtier and dirtier in her manipulations. She was covered in the heavy burdens of her deceits, and she was tired from the constant swindling. Surely by now, her soul was as black as the soot embedded into the trains of her dresses.

"Just admit to your treasons, Miss Peppercorn," Prince Tullvomm said so quietly she had to lean forward to catch it, "Tell us who you really are. It will make this easier for you."

The Prince frowned, his eyes only meeting hers for the briefest of seconds.

So, she was truly alone.

Did she dare sell out her family? Could she? She knew that if the positions were switched, and it where her mother sitting here choosing between saving herself, or Dalia, that there would be no hesitation. She knew that her firm, unwavering mother would do the same thing she had done every morning that she woke and hardly batted an eyelash at her husband or gave a second glance to her own son before busying herself in her ratty, run-down shop, empty of customers and entrenched in secrets.

Dal wished that in this moment, she had greater strength to be like her mother.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I am a child of the wind." she replied, each word feeling heavy on her tongue.

King Belatron rose, and slammed his hands on the table, rattling the plates and food surrounding him. "Cursed witch! For your continued treachery, there can be no mercy. Your lies and witchery will no longer poison my castle and my household."

The white-haired king cast a narrowed glance to those sitting around him, before turning his frosty blue gaze back to hers. "I sentence you to death by burning on this very day."

"No!" Prince Tullvomm cried.

"She's my granddaughter," The Magistrar said in his gravelly voice. Every head in the room turned towards him.