Aria's POV
Brother Thomas arrives at my cell before I can catch my breath.
He's older—maybe sixty—with kind eyes that don't match this brutal world. His brown robes smell like herbs and old books. But his voice is sharp when he speaks.
"So. You're the clever girl who talked her way out of burning." He studies me like I'm a puzzle. "Three days to prove your innocence. Most would have begged for mercy. You demanded an investigation. Interesting."
I stand despite my shaking legs. My chains rattle. "Because begging wouldn't have worked. Prince Cassian wants justice, not tears."
"You think you know His Highness after one conversation?" Thomas raises an eyebrow.
"I know grief," I say quietly. "I know what it looks like when someone loses everything and builds walls so high nothing can hurt them again. Your Prince loved Princess Elara. Her death broke something in him. He wants someone to pay."
Thomas goes very still. "You're more observant than expected."
"I'm an engineer—" I catch myself. This world doesn't have that word. "I mean, I'm good at solving problems. And this is a problem. Someone murdered the Princess and made me look guilty. If I can prove who really did it, Prince Cassian gets real justice. Not just revenge."
"And you get to live."
"That too," I admit.
Thomas almost smiles. "Come then. Let's see if your confidence has substance. But stay close—the castle wants you dead. Many would happily poison you before you prove anything."
He unlocks my chains. My wrists are bloody and raw. When I stumble, Thomas steadies me.
"When did you last eat?"
"I don't remember."
He pulls bread from his robes and hands it to me. It's stale and hard, but I'm so hungry I almost cry. This small kindness feels massive after everything.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"Don't thank me yet. If you're guilty, I'll watch you burn without flinching."
Fair enough.
Thomas leads me through the castle. Servants see me and make religious signs like I'm evil. Guards spit. A noble woman throws wine at me and screams, "Murderess!"
I keep walking. I've survived worse today.
We reach a tower room filled with books, bottles, and strange equipment. Thomas's workspace. It smells like chemicals and parchment.
"This is where Princess Elara's wine bottle and cup are stored as evidence," Thomas explains. He shows me a table with both items carefully preserved. "What do you need?"
I examine the bottle first. It's beautiful—fancy glass with gold decoration. Expensive. The kind of gift that wouldn't seem suspicious.
"Who gave Lady Aria this bottle to deliver to the Princess?"
Thomas checks his notes. "Lady Seraphina Thornwell. Your cousin. She claimed it was a peace offering since you and the Princess had argued the week before."
My—Lady Aria's—memories confirm this. The original Aria and Princess Elara did argue. Something stupid about flowers for the wedding. Seraphina had been so sweet, saying this wine would fix everything.
"Seraphina set her up," I breathe.
"That's a serious accusation. Lady Seraphina is well-connected. Her mother is sister to the Northern Clan's chief. Accusing her without proof could start a war."
"Then we get proof." I carefully smell the bottle's opening. A faint bitter almond scent underneath something sweet. "Hemlock and honey. The honey masked the poison's taste. But hemlock is rare. You can't just find it growing anywhere. Someone had to obtain it specially."
Thomas's eyes widen. "How do you know about hemlock's scent? That's advanced medical knowledge."
Oops. I scramble for an explanation. "My mother was a healer before she died. She taught me plants."
It's not exactly a lie—my real mother did love gardening before cancer took her.
Thomas studies me suspiciously but doesn't push. Instead, he pulls out a massive book. "The castle's medicine room keeps records of all rare substances. If someone took hemlock, there should be an entry."
We spend hours reading through records. My eyes burn. My stomach cramps from hunger. But then—
"Here!" I point at an entry from three weeks ago. "Five ounces of dried hemlock leaves. Signed out by..." My heart stops. "Signed out by Princess Elara herself?"
"That's impossible," Thomas says flatly. "Why would the Princess poison herself?"
"She didn't. Someone forged her signature." I compare it to other documents Thomas has. "Look—the handwriting is similar but wrong. The 'E' curves differently. The pressure's uneven. Someone practiced her writing but couldn't get it perfect."
Thomas examines it closely. His face pales. "You're right. By the saints, you're actually right. But who would have access to the medicine rooms and skill to forge the Princess's hand?"
"Someone close to her. Someone she trusted." I think hard. "Who managed the Princess's daily schedule? Who brought her meals, arranged her appointments, had access to her private rooms?"
"Her lady's maid. A girl named Clara." Thomas stands abruptly. "We need to question her immediately."
We rush through the castle. But when we reach the servants' quarters, chaos erupts.
A woman screams. "Clara! No, Clara, wake up!"
We push through the crowd. A young girl—maybe nineteen—lies on the floor. Her lips are blue. Foam bubbles from her mouth. The same bloody tears streak her face.
"Hemlock poisoning," I whisper. "Just like Princess Elara."
Clara's eyes find me. She's dying but trying to speak. I kneel beside her, ignoring the gasps.
"Who did this to you?" I ask urgently. "Who made you help poison the Princess?"
"L-Lady..." Clara chokes on blood. "Lady S-Sera—"
She convulsions violently. Then goes still.
Dead.
The servants wail. Someone shouts, "The murderess killed another one! She's cursed!"
"I didn't touch her!" I protest.
But Thomas grabs my arm, pulling me back. "We need to leave. Now. Before they tear you apart."
Guards appear, pushing back the mob. Thomas drags me to a side corridor.
"Clara was about to confess," I say frantically. "She said 'Lady Sera'—she was naming Seraphina!"
"A dying woman's partial word isn't proof," Thomas says grimly. "And now our only witness is dead. Poisoned the same way as Princess Elara. This isn't random, Aria. Someone is eliminating evidence."
Cold fear washes over me. "They know I'm investigating. They're covering their tracks."
"Which means you're in more danger than before. If they'll kill their own accomplice, they'll certainly kill you." Thomas looks genuinely worried. "Maybe you should confess to something minor. Accept exile instead of execution—"
"No." My voice is steel. "I'm not running. I'm not letting another criminal win by destroying innocent people. Not again."
Something in my tone makes Thomas pause. "What happened to you? Before all this?"
I meet his eyes. "I trusted the wrong people. They took everything and smiled while I burned. I won't let Seraphina do the same to Lady Aria's memory. We prove the truth. All of it."
Thomas stares at me for a long moment. Then nods slowly. "Then we need to move fast. Check the medicine room records for who accessed it tonight. Find out how the poisoner knew Clara would talk. And most importantly—"
A bell tolls. Once. Twice. Three times.
Thomas's face goes white.
"What is that?" I ask.
"The King's summons. Prince Cassian's father wants to see you." Thomas grips my shoulders. "Listen carefully. King Aldric is nothing like his son. Cassian is ice. The King is fire—paranoid, violent, unpredictable. He's already suspicious of your 'unusual knowledge.' If you say the wrong thing, he'll declare you a witch. And witches burn regardless of evidence."
My heart hammers. "What do I do?"
"Survive the next hour. Say only what you must. Show no cleverness. The King fears intelligent women—his wife was brilliant, and her cleverness got her assassinated by enemies who exploited the King's paranoia."
The bell tolls again. Urgent.
Guards march toward us. "Lady Aria. His Majesty commands your presence. Immediately."
Thomas whispers as they take me. "Remember—survive. That's all that matters."
They march me through the castle to massive doors carved with dragons. The throne room.
The doors open.
King Aldric sits on a golden throne, older than his son but twice as dangerous. His eyes are mad with suspicion. Beside him stands Prince Cassian, face unreadable.
But it's the third person who makes my blood freeze.
Lady Seraphina Thornwell.
Beautiful, blonde, smiling like poison.
She sees me and her smile grows.
"Your Majesty," Seraphina says sweetly. "Thank you for allowing me to present evidence. I've discovered something terrible about my cousin Aria. Something that proves she's not just a murderess."
She holds up papers covered in strange symbols and equations.
My engineering notes. From my old life. Somehow here.
"These writings were found hidden in Lady Aria's chambers," Seraphina announces. "Strange symbols. Unnatural knowledge. My King, I believe Lady Aria isn't just guilty of murder."
King Aldric leans forward, eyes gleaming with fear and fury.
"I believe she's a witch."
The throne room erupts in chaos.
Prince Cassian's eyes lock on mine. For the first time since we met, I see something other than cold hatred.
I see curiosity.
And in a kingdom that burns witches alive, curiosity might be the only thing that saves me.
Or the thing that condemns me forever.