Five days after the incident in the second wife’s bedchambers, as they call it now, I’m being dressed in black silk for my public humiliation.
The gown is beautiful—exquisitely tailored, appropriate for a prince's first wife attending a royal celebration and her own children’s silent funeral reception.
Guards escort me to the great hall. Not an honor guard—prison guards. Their hands hovering near their weapons as if I might suddenly become violent. Nobles from across the kingdom pack the space—lords and ladies in their finest silks and jewels, all gathered to witness this momentous occasion.
They're celebrating the birth of the royal heirs.
They're celebrating the birth of my sons while I'm paraded before them like a criminal.
The guards position me at the edge of the crowd, close enough to see everything but separate from the nobility. Every eye in the room finds me eventually, and I feel their gazes like brands against my skin.
"That's her… The first wife."
"Nine losses, can you imagine..."
"They say she's completely lost her mind now."
I force myself to look toward the dais, trying to ignore the whispers around me.
Leander stands there in full royal regalia of the Crown Prince—deep green velvet that compliments his striking blue eyes, gold embroidery catching the candlelight, the circlet of his rank gleaming on his dark hair.
Tall and broad-shouldered, his posture is commanding, every inch the future king. The candlelight plays across the strong jaw I used to trace with my fingers, the sensual mouth that once whispered promises against my skin in the darkness of his bedchambers.
"You're my everything, Rosetta… My heart, my soul, my reason for breathing. There’s only you for me in this world."
The memory hits me with physical force.
I still remember his voice in my ear as we lay tangled together, both of us naked and breathless and sated with each other. The way his hands would map every curve of my body with hunger. The heat in his blue eyes when he looked at me.
I don't understand how we ended up here.
Cecily stands beside him radiant in pale pink silk, her golden hair falling in perfect curls. She holds an infant against her chest, one of my sons, cradling him with practiced tenderness. A nursemaid stands just behind her, holding the second baby.
A desperate, foolish hope flutters in my chest. Perhaps Leander saw it too. Perhaps when they brought the babies to him, he noticed the birthmark—that distinctive four-pointed star on the infant's arm, the same one I've carried my entire life.
Perhaps he recognized it, connected the impossible truth, and now he'll dispel all doubts before everyone. He'll announce that I was, in fact, the mother of his heirs. He'll expose Cecily's lies and send her into the exile she deserves.
Perhaps the man who once loved me enough to defy convention and marry an orphan of minor nobility still exists somewhere beneath the crown and duty.
"My lords and ladies." Leander's voice rings through the hall and the crowd falls silent immediately. "Thank you for gathering to celebrate this joyous occasion. Today, I stand before you not only as your Crown Prince, but as a father."
The court erupts in applause and Cecily smiles, ducking her head with false modesty while clutching my son tighter.
"After years of uncertainty, the gods have blessed Reaton with not one but two healthy sons. Two heirs to the throne, born a week ago to my second wife, Countess Cecily."
The applause swells louder, someone starts a chant: "Long live the heirs!" Others take it up until the hall rings with their voices.
The floor tilts beneath my feet and I have to lock my knees to keep from collapsing.
"Countess Cecily has shown remarkable strength and devotion." Leander continues, turning to her with a smile I recognize—the smile he used to give me, back when he loved me. "In her first attempt, she has given me what I've longed for: living children to secure the succession."
He takes her hand, kisses it.
Then Leander's gaze finds me across the crowd, and what I see in those blue eyes isn't love or even anger. It's pity mixed with something worse. Disappointment.
The same disappointed look he's given me after every loss, every stillbirth. Every time my body failed to do the one thing it was supposed to do as his wife, as a future queen of this kingdom. Every time I waited for his comfort and support.
"However," Leander continues, "this moment of joy is tinged with sorrow. My first wife, Lady Rosetta, has suffered greatly in her attempts to fulfill her duties as Crown Princess." The hall goes quiet, every eye turns to me. "She endured her ninth tragedy—another stillbirth."
Leander's voice is gentle, almost kind, which somehow makes it worse.
"No…" I try to say, but the word comes out as barely a whisper.
A guard's hand closes on my elbow. A warning.
"And as you may already have heard, five days ago, in a fit of madness driven by grief, she broke into Countess Cecily's chambers and attempted to steal the living infants, convinced they were hers."
The nobles gasp and some look at me with horror, others with pity so thick it makes me want to scream.
"Therefore," Leander says, and I know what's coming, "out of mercy for all that Lady Rosetta has endured, she will not be punished for her treachery against the crown as a criminal. She will be sent to a royal estate in the countryside, where she will receive treatment and rest. Perhaps, with time and care, her fragile mind might heal."
The court murmurs with approval. How merciful. How kind of their future king.
But I can’t believe what I'm hearing. He’s… exiling me?
"Our marriage with Lady Rossetta is annulled from this moment and Countess Cecily will remain as my only wife. She has proven herself worthy of the crown, worthy of standing beside me as the future Queen of Reaton."
My heart sinks as the hall erupts into applause and cheers. The nobles bow low toward the dais, toward Cecily. Someone calls out "Long live Crown Princess Cecily!" and the cry is taken up by dozens of voices.
I stand alone at the edge of the crowd. Invisible despite being the center of attention. Erased despite being the subject of so much discussion. Cecily catches my eye across the distance and smiles—a small, private smile of absolute victory.
When the guards' hands tighten on my arms, beginning to pull me backward toward the exit, something inside me snaps.
"No!" My voice rings out, cutting through the applause and the sound surprises even me. "No, I won't go quietly while you parade my sons as someone else's children!"
The hall falls silent, shocked faces turn toward me. The guards try to pull me back, but I wrench against their grip, my body screaming in protest but my will is suddenly made of iron.
"Those are my sons! I carried them for nine months. I felt them move inside me. I gave birth to them a week ago, and they were alive!"
I shout toward the dais, toward Leander, my voice cracking but not breaking as I keep my eyes locked on Leander's face.
"You know the truth, you have to know! The man who promised to burn down kingdoms for me… where is he? What happened to him, Leander?"
For just a moment, a single, fleeting heartbeat, I see something crack in Leander's carefully maintained composure.
His jaw tightens, his hand clenches at his side. And in his blue eyes, behind the mask of regal authority and practiced pity, I see something raw and vulnerable flash across his face.
Pain. Deep, wrenching pain. Something that looks like regret, like sorrow, like a man watching something precious die and being unable—or unwilling—to stop it.
"Remove her," he says quietly, turning away from me, back toward Cecily and the babies as if I haven't spoken at all. "But carefully. She's unwell, she doesn't know what she's saying."
"I know exactly what I'm saying!" I struggle harder as the guards begin dragging me toward the doors. "Those are my sons, Leander! Our sons! And you're stealing them from me!"
But they're too strong, and I'm too weak. My body, still broken from childbirth, can't fight the way my heart demands. They pull me through the doors as I twist in their grip, trying to see the dais one last time.
Through the narrowing gap, I see Cecily holding my son. I see the court bowing to her. And I see Leander standing there, his back to me now.
He's hurting. Despite everything, despite the lies and the betrayal and the public humiliation, some part of him is breaking too.
But he's letting it happen anyway.
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