PART 3 — The Truth Beneath the Fire
PART 3 — The Truth Beneath the Fire
The king turned his head slightly.
“Celeste,” he said.
Just her name.
No title.
No warmth.
And that was enough to make her flinch.
“You said the fire consumed everything in the nursery wing,” he continued quietly.
Celeste forced a smile. “It did. I told you what the physicians reported—”
“Stop.”
The word cut through the room like a blade.
The king finally looked at her.
And something in his expression had changed.
Not anger.
Certainty.
“You weren’t even supposed to be in that wing,” he said. “Only one person had clearance that night.”
Celeste’s smile faltered.
The guests began to shift uneasily.
The king stepped closer to her now.
“Tell me,” he said softly, “why your name was recorded as being present at the exact hour my daughter disappeared?”
A whisper of horror spread through the crowd.
Celeste’s breath hitched.
“That’s not— I was a child— I was visiting—”
“And why,” the king continued, voice tightening, “did every record of the fire get rewritten within twenty-four hours?”
Silence.
Heavy.
Final.
Mara stood frozen, watching, as if the ground beneath her was no longer real.
Celeste’s composure cracked.
“I protected this kingdom!” she snapped suddenly. “You would have lost everything! The throne would have fallen apart!”
The king’s face went still.
“Where is she?” he asked.
May you like
Celeste didn’t answer.
That was answer enough.
