Celena POV:
The hall was so quiet I could hear the blood pounding in my ears.
I didn't flinch. The silver lancet slid into the fleshy tip of my index finger. A single, perfect drop of crimson welled up, clinging to the lancet's point.
Every eye in the room was fixed on that tiny, glistening bead of blood.
Time stretched, thick and heavy. One second. Two.
Then, it began.
A subtle darkening at the very tip of the lancet where it touched my blood. A wisp of inky color, like a drop of dye in clear water. It spread, blooming outward, turning from a faint blue to a deep, undeniable black.
The proof was absolute.
A tidal wave of noise crashed through the hall. "By the Moon Goddess!" "It's true!" "She was framed!"
Arlin's expression hardened. The disbelief lasted only a heartbeat before it was swallowed by a dark, dangerous fury. Beside him, Jaylin's legs gave out, and she would have collapsed if Amber Hayes hadn't caught her.
I raised my hand, the blackened lancet held high like a victor's standard. My voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of irrefutable truth. "The evidence is clear."
My gaze, cold as a winter storm, fell upon Arlin. "Heir Apparent. Do you have anything to say?"
His jaw clenched until a muscle jumped in his cheek. He said nothing, but the rage in his eyes was unmistakable. I was no longer a disgraced fiancée begging for mercy. I was a challenge to his authority, standing before the entire pack.
I didn't wait for his answer. I turned from him, my attention sweeping across the crowd until it landed on the trembling form of Polly Vance.
"Polly Vance," I called out, my voice like the crack of a whip. "You served me the water."
The maid shrieked and fell to her knees, banging her head on the marble floor. "No, my lady! It wasn't me! I swear!"
I let out a short, contemptuous laugh. I looked back at Arlin. "Arlin. I command you to seize this treacherous servant. Or have you lost all ability to reason?"
My tone was imperious, the command of a woman who expected to be obeyed.
Stung by my words and desperate to salvage any shred of his authority, Arlin waved a shaky hand at his guards. "Take her!"
Polly was dragged, kicking and screaming, to the center of the hall. Her terrified eyes pleaded with Jaylin for help.
Jaylin looked away, her face a sickly green.
I walked slowly toward the groveling maid. I crouched down, my torn dress pooling around me. "Who ordered you to do it?" I asked, my voice a soft, dangerous whisper.
Polly just sobbed, shaking her head.
I stood up, my patience gone. I addressed the guards. "Since she refuses to speak, she is useless. Take her outside and prepare the pyre. Let her execution be a warning to all."
The pyre. Execution by fire. The most brutal punishment, reserved for the worst of traitors.
A collective gasp of horror went through the crowd. This was not the spoiled, frivolous Celena they thought they knew. This was someone else entirely. Someone cold and ruthless.
That was all it took. Polly's resolve shattered.
"IT WAS HER!" she screamed, her finger pointing directly at my stepsister. "LADY JAYLIN! SHE MADE ME DO IT! SHE GAVE ME THE POISON!"
Every head in the room swiveled to face Jaylin.
"You lie!" Jaylin shrieked, her voice cracking with hysteria. "You wretched creature, how dare you accuse me!"
I had what I needed. I turned my back on their pathetic squabbling and faced Arlin one last time.
"Arlin Carlisle," I declared, my voice resonating with finality. "As per our wager, I, Celena McLaughlin, do hereby formally annul our engagement. From this moment on, there is nothing between us."
Without another glance at his ashen face, I turned to the guards holding Polly. "Proceed."
Then, ignoring the pain in my stomach and the weakness in my legs, I walked. I walked through the stunned, parting crowd, my head held high.
