Chronicles of the Forbidden Jewels

A narrow smile of approval graced my lips as I gazed at my reflection in the floor-length mirror. The elegant magenta gown, adorned with golden brocade and delicate tulle lace embroidered with iridescent thread, perfectly complemented the fabric.

The deep square neckline was accentuated by a wide trim of pearls and diamantes, just as I preferred. My handmaiden carefully placed a layered necklace made of musgravite and diamonds around my neck, pairing it with long amethyst drop earrings and a matching amethyst ring.

I brushed my wavy golden hair to my shoulders, ensuring it wouldn't interfere with my ruff.

I couldn't help but see my name as the definition of perfection.

My silver eyes reflected a sense of confidence and regality, and it’s not figurative – because I am the queen.

I looked away from the mirror and gave my servant some attention.

"Rena, you've just returned, haven't you? How is your family doing?" I asked, breaking the silence.

Her surprise was evident as her mouth opened wide upon hearing my question. "Your Majesty, I believe I've mentioned this countless times, but you are not only beautiful but also kind. My family is doing well. Thank you for allowing me to visit them for three days," she replied, bowing respectfully.

She remained in that position until I raised my hand, signaling for her to return to her normal posture.

Kind, she called me. If only she knew the truth. If ordering people to kill anyone who stood in my way can be considered as kindness, then perhaps her words held some truth.

People often judge based on appearances, without truly knowing the person beneath the surface. They form opinions without considering facts.

"I sense that you're in a good mood today, Your Majesty," Rena commented, accurately reading my emotions. And she was right.

How could I not be in a good mood? It was quite entertaining to witness the panic that ensued after the disappearance of the peasant.

This must be what she meant when she said she would please me for the last time. She must have discovered my plan, but since she managed to escape, there is a possibility that she is still alive somewhere. After all, she did consume a poisoned tea.

Regardless of whether she left in secret or met her demise elsewhere, what truly matters to me is that she is no longer in my presence.

"The weather is indeed delightful, and it has put me in a pleasant mood," I fibbed, fully aware that Rena would unquestioningly believe every word I uttered.

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

The warm afternoon sun bathed the salon in a gentle glow as I made my way to the nearest window, curious to see what lay beyond.

The garden was illuminated by the bright rays of the sun, and amidst the vibrant blooms, I spotted Marius, my second son, walking alone, lost in deep thoughts.

I ventured outside without hesitation and made my way towards the garden, easily locating him as he stood among the flowers he was fond of.

However, I couldn't help but notice the somber expression on his face and the tension in his clenched fist as I approach him.

"What brings a prince like you to a place like this, all by yourself?" I questioned, his gaze finally shifting in my direction, as if only just realizing my presence.

"My heart aches as I see how my older brother whom I looked up to is acting now. His Majesty has not eaten anything today, and his anger has been palpable. He has been commanding people to search for Thyra throughout the entire kingdom and investigate every corner of the palace. I feel for him deeply. He truly cherishes our sister. I can't help but wonder what has happened," Marius looked up into the palace, as if hoping to see the rebellious king in his former composed self.

Considering his young age, there were certain aspects he may not fully comprehend yet, but it was heartening to witness his empathy towards his older brother's predicament.

"Let's make our way back inside. After all, we won't know unless we ask, right?" I suggested, gently taking hold of the young prince's hand as we returned to the main palace.

Speak of the devil. Who knows that he’s the first person we’ll see upon entering?

We walked towards Evrart, who stood there, his gaze probing as he looked at me. His silver eyes resembled those of an icy serpent, assessing its prey. Naturally, from his perspective, I’m the one who should be blamed for everything.

"Marius, go to your room now. His Majesty and I need to talk," I instructed, and Marius gave me a questioning look, clearly curious about the situation unfolding before him.

"Is something amiss? Can't I be a part of this?" he inquired.

Evrart lowered himself to Marius' level and held both of his arms, and responded in a calm tone. "Just do as your mother suggests. I will explain everything to you later," Evrart assured him, his gaze shifting to me with a glare.

With those words, Marius nodded and left us alone. Evrart turned, and I followed him as he led me to the king's study in silence. It had only been two days since I was last here, enduring a barrage of angry words. It seemed that history was destined to repeat itself.

Evrart took a seat behind the king's desk, mirroring his previous position, and lazily held a paper between his fingers as he leaned back.

"This is a letter from Thyra, slipped under my bedroom door last night. I am certain it is from her, for I recognize her handwriting. She states that she left the palace because her life was in danger here. According to her, you invited her to your private garden and she used Tiaiell to test the tea for poison. It turned black, indicating the presence of poison. She requests that we shouldn’t bother searching for her, but assures us that she will return when the time is right," Evrart said, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

"Perhaps she means to return when you are no longer here, the one who attempted to kill her? She has shown kindness towards you. If I were in her position, I would gather evidence and expose you publicly, the so-called great queen of Eurhyia, who plotted to kill her stepdaughter. It would be quite the spectacle for all to witness. Yet, she chose to flee rather than remain here, instead of waiting for her demise."

"I understand your concerns, but it's important to approach this situation with caution and empathy," I replied, trying to maintain a calm and composed expression. "Thyra's decision to drink the tea was her own, and while it may have been a reckless choice, it doesn't necessarily make you responsible for her actions. It's crucial to respect her decision to leave and give her the space she desires."

Evrart's anger seemed to simmer down slightly as he processed my words. He leaned back in his chair, his expression still filled with frustration and disbelief.

"You expect me to believe that she willingly drank the poisoned tea?" he questioned, his voice laced with skepticism.

"I can understand your doubts, but it's important to consider all possibilities," I defended. "Thyra may have had her reasons for doing so. Perhaps she wanted to test my intentions or prove a point. Regardless, it's crucial that we respect her wishes and refrain from further accusations or actions that would make this trivial matter complicated."

Evrart sighed heavily, his gaze shifting away from me for a moment. It was clear that he was struggling with conflicting emotions and thoughts.

"How can you call it a trivial matter?” Evrart rested his elbows on his desk and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Hah … I don't know what to believe anymore," he admitted, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "But I can't simply ignore the possibility that you’re at fault. The evidence, the accusations ... they all point to you."

I gritted by teeth, still trying to remain composed despite the mounting tension in the room.

"I understand your concerns, Evrart. But I assure you, I had no intention of harming Thyra," I stated firmly. "I care deeply for her well-being, just as how I care for our kingdom. I would never jeopardize either."

Evrart's gaze met mine once again, his eyes searching for any signs of deception. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, his voice softer this time.

"I want to believe you, Corianne. I truly do," he confessed. "But the doubts ... they're difficult to ignore, even if you’re my mother. We need to find a way to uncover the truth, to ensure justice is served."

I nodded, relieved that he was willing to consider other possibilities. "I agree, Evrart. Let's work together to uncover the truth and bring clarity to this situation for Thyra’s sake."

As we continued our conversation, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The tension in the room was rising, and the uncertainty of what lays ahead weighed heavily on my mind.

But I knew that I had to stay strong and navigate this challenging situation with grace and determination.

"Emmett," Evrart called, his nails tapping the desk in an erratic rhythm.

His guard, Emmett, bowed as he was summoned. "Bring the dowager queen to the worst prison we have. Detain all her servants as well, and I will personally interrogate each of them. Keep them in separate cells to prevent any chance of communication."

"You can't do this to me! I'm your mother! I'm still the queen!" I protested; my voice filled with desperation. "You ungrateful, insolent child! You won't be king without me! You'll regret this!"

Despite my protests, Emmett and the other guards followed Evrart's orders without hesitation.

They forcefully dragged me out of the king's study, while Evrart watched with cold, apathetic eyes. I struggled to free myself, but the guards' grip was too strong, rendering me immobile. I couldn't even move my feet as they held me firmly.

"Release me, you filthy peasants! Let go! It's an order!" I shouted, but my words fell on deaf ears.

"I apologize, Your Majesty. We are simply following the His Majesty’s commands, and we have no right to refuse," Emmett explained in a monotone voice.

It seemed all too easy for him, as if he had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

"You've done well, Corianne," I murmured to myself. "You've dug your own grave."

I clenched my fists as the guards left me in the dark, narrow, and damp prison cell. The walls covered in mold, and there was no bed or chair. The metal door only had a small opening for a single pair of eyes to peer through. A latrine in the corner added to the foul smell that permeated the cell.

This place is disgusting in every possible way. I couldn't believe that prisoners were subjected to such conditions. It was worse than I had imagined. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.

With an exasperated sigh, I realized that even though I had everything, I had nothing.

In the end, it’s still my fault for raising a monster.