[Lavinia’s POV—Imperial Palace, The Tea Party—Continuation]
The silence was deafening.
Not the gentle hush of a peaceful garden, but the sharp, suffocating silence of a noose tightening. Every noble sat frozen in their chair, fans half-raised, lips pressed white. No one dared to breathe too loudly. No one dared to look away from her.
Eleania.
Her once-perfect composure was cracking—splintering like porcelain under too much pressure. Her knuckles blanched around her fan, trembling so violently it seemed it might snap in two. Sweat clung to her temple, betraying the fury she tried so desperately to disguise.
And I—
I only smiled.
"My, my..." My voice slipped into the quiet like velvet laced with poison. "So many accusations. Such a tangled mess of words. And yet, somehow, they all seem to point in the same direction..."
I let my scarlet gaze linger on her, deliberately, mercilessly.
"Toward you, Lady Eleania."
Gasps rippled. Fans snapped open, masks of feigned shock hiding hungry eyes. They all wanted blood—but not their own.
Osric leaned forward slightly, voice calm and cutting. "Lady Eleania. Do you deny it?"
Her lips parted, but no sound came. Rage burned in her eyes, hot enough to sear me where I sat—but it was laced with fear. She knew. They all knew.
If she spoke wrongly now... it wasn’t about her house at stake. No—she would crumble entirely. As an adopted daughter, a mere misstep could see her cast out of the Talvan household, thrown aside like dust on the floor. One wrong word, one defiant breath, and all she had clung to would vanish.
I tapped my fingers lightly on the marble table, slow, deliberate... a ticking clock. "I don’t have all the leisure time, Lady Eleania," I said, my voice soft but layered with steel.
Her eyes darted around desperately, landing on Lady Sirella. Sirella, as usual, sipped her tea calmly, eyes hidden behind that serene mask, utterly unmoved.
I exhaled softly, letting a sigh carry through the stillness. "Since you have no words to offer me," I continued, "I shall simply assume you are the culprit."
I turned to Osric, eyes sharp as daggers. "Osric, arrest her and—"
"W-Why...?"
Every head snapped toward her. Eleania had risen from her chair, hands trembling with barely contained rage and fear. Yet her expression... oh, she had perfected it: the fragile, innocent heroine of every novel ever written. Big eyes, trembling lips, the sort of look designed to twist pity and fear into her favor.
I tilted my head, faintly amused, and watched her falter before trying to maintain that angelic innocence.
"It was... it was just a mere rumor, Princess," she whispered, voice quivering yet deliberate. "You could’ve just... let it go. But you... you deliberately keep dragging it on..."
I smiled, tilting my lips just enough to make the curve sharp and dangerous. "How... cute, Eleania. You didn’t even deny it and instead played a victim role. You really think you’ve done something clever, don’t you?"
Her face flinched as the smile lingered, soft yet cruel.
"You should have stayed within your boundaries," I continued, letting each word drop like ice upon her skin. "Minding your own business. Especially living in my empire. And now—now you dare to behave like a pet, cowering after biting the hand that feeds you."
Marshi Roared. Solena glared...like she was ready to attack her.
She trembled with fear and rage. "It... it was just a rumor!" she shouted, the sound cracking through the silence like a whip. "You could have... let it go... as the Crown Princess! But you, Princess... you keep pushing it. And for what? To reduce the tax?" Her voice caught on the word, both a challenge and a plea. "How... how are we supposed to believe it now? After this... will you really reduce the tax?"
I leaned back slightly, letting the sunlight catch the gold in my hair, my crimson eyes slicing through her pretense.
"Oh, Eleania..." I murmured, voice smooth and velvet-thin but edged with steel. "You speak as though I care whether you or anyone believes me. And yet... here you are, trembling, accusing, begging... and all while knowing the truth in your heart. You did this. You spread the poison, and now you’re trying to turn it back as if innocence can protect you."
Her face twisted, a battle between fear and defiance raging openly. "I... I... it’s... it was nothing! Only words! Only whispers! You... you’re exaggerating!"
I let a slow, deliberate smile curve my lips, letting the weight of the moment sink in. "Ah... so," I murmured, voice silk over steel, "you admit it. All of this... was your doing?"
. . .
Her eyes widened, panic and anger colliding. "I... I didn’t mean... I didn’t think—"
I raised a hand slowly, letting my fingers hover in the air as if catching invisible lies. "Didn’t think? Oh, Eleania... words are not so light in my empire. A single whisper can topple houses, ruin reputations... and yet you threw them around like petals in the wind."

THUD!!!

"Then you must also understand that punishment for treason..." I leaned forward slightly, letting my shadow stretch over her like a blade. "...is death."
GASP!!
Why do I feel this way? As if something inside me that was once broken is finally knitting back together.
...Is it because of the novel? The knowledge that the real Lavinia was disgraced, humiliated, and cast aside by the so-called heroine until she met her tragic end?
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