The courtroom, once filled with the roar of indignation against Regina, was now a tomb of silence. All eyes turned toward Keibrant. The "Still Prince" finally looked shaken, the smooth mask of his composure cracking to reveal the panicked man beneath.
"Keibrant," King Maltherion's voice was like grinding stone. "Explain yourself. Why did you commission a replica of a child's clothing hours before that very child was 'attacked' by shadows?"
Keibrant stepped forward, his eyes darting to Cornelius. "Father, this is a misunderstanding. I was merely... investigating the quality of the fabrics used by the nobility to—"
"Enough!" the King thundered. "Do not insult my intelligence with such pathetic lies. Cornelius, speak! Did you know of this?"
Cornelius Stoutforge, usually so sharp, looked at the tailor and then at the unharmed boy. He knew the game was over. "I only followed the Prince's directives, Your Majesty," he stammered, trying to distance himself. But it was too late.
"You have used a child's life and the sanctity of the Church to stage a coup against a Minister of the Crown," the King declared, his voice cold and final.
"Keibrant Emberclaw and Cornelius Stoutforge, you are hereby stripped of your titles, your lands, and your honors. You are banished from the Capital. If you are found within the city walls after sunset, your lives are forfeit."
As the guards moved in to escort the disgraced men out, Duke Hektor looked at Regina. He didn't thank her—pride wouldn't allow it—but he bowed his head in a deep, respectful acknowledgment. He had his son back, and he knew who the true protector was.
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After the court was dismissed and the hall emptied, Draven found Eliosa standing by a sun-drenched pillar, her face pale and her hands trembling. He approached her, his footsteps heavy. He didn't look at her with love or even anger anymore; he looked at her with a weary, clinical suspicion.
"Did you know?" Draven asked, his voice low. "Did you intentionally help Keibrant set that trap?"
Eliosa opened her mouth to weave another "Saintly" lie, but she saw the look in Draven's eyes. He wasn't the boy who worshipped her anymore. He was a man who had just seen his brother destroyed by the woman he had discarded.
"I... I helped him," Eliosa admitted, her voice a fragile whisper.
Draven's eyes closed for a moment. "Why? He is my brother, yes, but he is also my direct competitor for the throne. You helped a man who wants to take my crown. Why?"
"I only wanted to prove Regina was a threat!" Eliosa cried, her desperation breaking through. "I wanted the Empire to see her as I see her—a monster! I had no other intentions, Draven. I did it for us! To get her out of our lives!"
"You are a fool, Eliosa," Draven said, and the word felt heavier than any insult. "You plotted a child's trauma to satisfy your jealousy. You are lucky—vilely lucky—that Regina chose to ignore your involvement today. She could have destroyed you alongside Keibrant with a single word."
Eliosa flinched, her face burning with embarrassment.
"Do not provoke her again," Draven warned, leaning in close. "She is no longer the Iris you can bully. She is a Sovereign, and right now, she is the only thing keeping this Empire—and your reputation—from collapsing. Stay in your church, Saintess. Stay away from the shadows."
He turned and left her standing in the fading light, more alone than she had ever been in her life.