The revelation hung in the air, cold and jagged. Celine leaned forward, her eyes pinning Olivia to the spot. "Olivia... Duke Tharon... he raped your mother."
Olivia's expression fractured, shock washing over her like a tidal wave of ice. "Wait... Your Highness... stop. What is this madness you're whispering?"
She stumbled back, her voice rising in a frantic, desperate cadence.
"I know you want me to mend things with the Empress, but do you truly grasp the weight of the filth you're speaking? My God, do you wish for your head to be severed for such an assault on the Empress's honor?"
Celine's hands trembled violently, but her gaze remained unyielding, locked onto Olivia's. "I grasp every syllable," she replied, her voice steadying through sheer will. "The Empress is my brother's wife, and the Duke is my husband. I am more than certain of the poison I speak. And besides—why do you interrupt me? I am not yet finished. Sit... sit and listen. With clarity and focus."
