🌑
By evening—
The entire palace knew.
Rumors didn't spread.
They exploded.
"Lady Seraphine collapsed…"
"They say she was in tears…"
"Something happened in the garden…"
"And the Grand Duke was there…"
Rosy stood by the window of her chamber, watching the fading sunlight bleed into the horizon.
"…That was fast," she murmured.
Too fast.
Which meant—
This wasn't spontaneous.
It was planned.
---
🚪 Knock.
"Enter."
A maid hurried in, clearly nervous.
"Milady… the Crown Prince has summoned you."
Rosy didn't turn.
Of course he did.
Right on schedule.
"…I'll be there."
---
The throne hall felt colder this time.
Not because of the weather.
But because of the atmosphere.
Every noble was present.
Every eye was on her.
Waiting.
Watching.
Judging.
At the center—
The prince.
And beside him—
Seraphine.
Seated.
Pale.
Fragile.
Like a broken doll.
Rosy almost smiled.
Impressive performance.
---
"Lady Isle Blackwell."
The prince's voice echoed.
"Step forward."
Rosy walked forward calmly, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor.
No hesitation.
No fear.
"Your Highness."
She bowed slightly.
---
"You were seen alone with Lady Seraphine in the royal garden," he said coldly.
"Yes."
"And shortly after, she collapsed."
A pause.
"Explain yourself."
---
The hall held its breath.
This was it.
The moment.
In the original story—
This was where Isle stayed silent.
Where she accepted blame.
Where everything began to fall apart.
---
Rosy lifted her gaze.
"…Is Lady Seraphine claiming I harmed her?"
A ripple moved through the court.
The prince's eyes narrowed.
"Answer the question."
"I just did."
Her tone remained calm.
Sharp.
Controlled.
---
Seraphine's fingers trembled slightly.
"Please… don't fight because of me…" she whispered weakly.
"I'm sure Lady Isle didn't mean any harm…"
Ah.
There it is again.
The gentle knife.
Rosy tilted her head slightly.
"Then I assume you will clarify what actually happened."
Silence.
Seraphine froze.
Just for a moment.
But it was enough.
---
"I…" Seraphine hesitated.
"I simply felt unwell…"
"Then say that clearly," Rosy cut in.
Her voice wasn't loud.
But it carried.
"If you were unwell, then that is your condition—not my action."
Gasps.
Soft.
Sharp.
Scattered across the hall.
---
The prince's expression darkened immediately.
"You will watch your words," he said coldly.
Rosy met his gaze.
"I am."
---
A noble stepped forward.
Old. Calculating.
"Your Highness," he said, bowing slightly. "Regardless of intent, the timing is… suspicious."
Another voice followed.
"The Grand Duke has always been… difficult."
"And now Lady Seraphine is harmed?"
"It cannot be coincidence."
---
Rosy listened quietly.
One voice.
Then another.
Then another.
The court wasn't seeking truth.
It was building a narrative.
Brick by brick.
Lie by lie.
---
So this is how they destroy her.
Not in one blow.
But slowly.
Publicly.
Irreversibly.
---
The prince raised his hand.
Silence returned.
"Lady Isle," he said, his tone final. "Until this matter is clarified, you will—"
"Be restricted?"
Rosy finished for him.
The hall stilled.
Again.
---
The prince's eyes hardened.
"You seem quite familiar with the outcome."
Rosy smiled faintly.
"Patterns are easy to recognize."
---
A pause.
Tension thickened.
Then—
A voice.
Deep.
Calm.
Amused.
"Is that so?"
Every head turned.
Rosy didn't need to.
She already knew.
---
He stood at the entrance—
As if he owned the space.
Dark hair.
Sharp features.
Eyes that held something far more dangerous than anger.
Interest.
"…Who is he?" whispers spread instantly.
"A foreign noble?"
"No… something feels off…"
---
The prince frowned.
"You are interrupting royal proceedings."
The man inclined his head slightly.
"My apologies."
His tone said otherwise.
"I simply found the situation… lacking."
---
Rosy's eyes narrowed slightly.
What are you doing…?
---
"And what exactly do you mean by that?" the prince asked.
The man's gaze shifted—
Landing directly on Rosy.
Then back to the court.
"It's quite inefficient," he said calmly, "to accuse someone without evidence."
A ripple.
Uneasy.
Uncomfortable.
---
"Are you questioning the court?" a noble snapped.
"I'm questioning your logic," he replied smoothly.
A few nobles stiffened.
---
The prince's patience thinned.
"This does not concern you."
"On the contrary," the man said lightly.
"It concerns someone I'm… interested in."
Silence.
Heavy.
Immediate.
---
All eyes turned to Rosy.
---
Ah.
So this is how you play.
Rosy exhaled softly.
Fine.
---
"And who might you be?" the prince demanded.
A pause.
A smile.
"Someone you shouldn't provoke."
---
The temperature in the room dropped.
Even the prince hesitated.
Just slightly.
But Rosy noticed.
Interesting.
---
The man stepped forward.
Slow.
Unhurried.
Dangerous.
"If Lady Seraphine claims she was harmed," he continued, "then let her say it clearly."
His gaze flickered to her.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
"Otherwise… this is nothing more than speculation."
---
Seraphine's lips parted.
But no words came out.
For the first time—
She looked cornered.
---
Rosy watched silently.
You just lost control of the narrative.
---
The man stopped beside her.
Close.
Too close.
And yet—
She didn't move.
---
"…What are you planning?" she whispered under her breath.
His reply was even quieter.
"Saving you."
A pause.
Then—
"Or ruining you."
---
Her lips curved faintly.
"…We'll see."
---
The prince clenched his jaw.
"…This matter will be postponed."
There it was.
Not resolved.
Not proven.
But not sealed either.
The first crack—
Widened.
---
As the court slowly dispersed, whispers returned.
But now—
They weren't the same.
"She didn't lose…"
"That man… who is he?"
"Something is changing…"
---
Rosy walked past them, her steps steady.
Unshaken.
Untouched.
---
But inside—
Her thoughts weren't calm.
That man.
That devil.
He didn't just interfere.
He shifted the entire balance.
---
As she stepped out into the corridor—
He followed.
Of course he did.
---
"You enjoy chaos," she said without turning.
A soft chuckle.
"Only when it benefits you."
She stopped.
Finally turning to face him.
"Why?"
A simple question.
But heavy.
---
His eyes met hers.
Dark.
Endless.
"Because," he said quietly—
"You were never meant to lose."
---
Her breath stilled.
Just for a second.
---
"And this story…" he continued, stepping closer—
"…is far from over."
---
For the first time—
Rosy smiled.
Not uncertain.
Not nervous.
But sharp.
Certain.
Dangerous.
---
"Good," she said.
"Because neither am I."
---
End of Chapter 4