4 Delivering the Speech

Mrs. Whitlock’s lips tightened, then softened. “We are counting on you,” she said, her voice low and weighted with expectation.

“I know,” Nina replied, her voice steady, even if her hands weren’t.

Mr. Whitlock stepped forward, commanding the room with an ease born from decades of power. “Now,” he said, his voice rich and authoritative, “it’s time for the celebrant to take her stage.”

And with that, the moment she had been preparing for was finally here.

The applause was deafening as Nina stepped forward, a sea of faces watching her with anticipation. They weren’t here for her, but for Adelaide—the girl whose life she was borrowing. The weight of it pressed on her, but she knew this was her moment to embody Adelaide, to deliver the speech she would have given if fate had been kinder.

“Thank you, everyone,” she began, her voice steady despite the thundering of her heart. “For gracing this occasion with me today. I feel honored and loved to have you all here with me tonight. This makes me feel truly special, and I know you all think the same way too.”

She paused, letting her gaze sweep across the crowd, taking in their reactions. Some faces smiled warmly, their expressions radiating approval. Others, less convinced, exchanged whispered thoughts and skeptical glances. Her heart skipped a beat as she registered their doubt, but she pressed on—or at least, she tried to.

Then her eyes drifted—unintentionally but inevitably—toward the cluster of power in the room: the six ruling families. It was impossible to ignore their looming presence. And there, standing among them with a calm, unreadable demeanor, was Axel.

Their gazes locked.

Unlike the earlier encounter with the stranger who had smirked at her, Axel’s stare didn’t waver, didn’t flinch. He didn’t smile, didn’t frown. He just… looked. And somehow, that made it worse. His piercing gaze felt as if it could strip away every layer of pretense, exposing the truth she had worked so hard to conceal.

Was it suspicion in his eyes? Curiosity? Or, worse, certainty? The longer she stared back, the more she felt the panic creeping in, like icy tendrils wrapping around her chest. Did he know? Could he tell she wasn’t Adelaide?

The words of her speech dissolved into the void.

“Adelaide.” Mr. Whitlock’s sharp whisper cut through her spiraling thoughts. She blinked, realizing, to her horror, that she had stopped mid-sentence. The crowd was silent, waiting, their curiosity quickly morphing into confusion.

Her gaze darted to Mr. Whitlock, and the tension etched into his features was impossible to miss. His expression screamed fix this, now.“I—” Her voice came out a whisper, trembling. “I forgot my line.”

His eyes widened, his face tightening with barely concealed panic. “You what?” he hissed.

A murmur rippled through the audience, a low buzz of speculation. They were analyzing her, dissecting every second of her failure. The pressure was suffocating. Her mind raced between two choices: crumble under their scrutiny or claw her way back to control.

She chose the latter.

Forcing her gaze away from Mr. Whitlock, she straightened her back and turned to face the crowd. Her palms felt clammy, her heart a wild drumbeat, but she shut her eyes and breathed deeply, centering herself. In… out… in… out.

When she opened her eyes again, she felt steadier, though she refused to meet anyone’s gaze. Instead, she looked just above their heads, focusing on the chandeliers glinting softly overhead.

“I apologize,” she resumed, her voice regaining a thread of confidence. “It seems I got a bit carried away in the emotion of the moment.” She projected a tone of ease, though her pulse was racing beneath the surface.

The crowd’s murmurs quieted, their collective energy shifting as they took in her recovery. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to regain some footing.

“I was having a conversation with my father, who told me just how concerned many of you were after my last crisis. He even mentioned that Mr. Heisenberg came by three times a day to check if I was still alive.” She let her words linger, lacing them with subtle sarcasm as she scanned the room. “And let me tell you, his dedication was… inspiring. The kind capable of pushing even the dead out of the grave. And so, I asked myself—why should I give up when I have the likes of Mr. Heisenberg, who is so invested in my survival?”

A ripple of uneasy chuckles echoed through the room, and she allowed herself a fleeting smile before continuing.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Whitlock relax ever so slightly, his rigid posture softening. She knew she wasn’t out of the woods yet, but at least she had stopped the freefall.

Now, she just had to make it through the rest of the evening without looking at Axel again.

“This brings me to my next point of gratitude—to my parents.” She turned slightly, glancing back at Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock. Their faces were a study in barely concealed surprise, their carefully constructed masks faltering. It was obvious she had strayed off script.

“Thank you,” she said, letting her voice soften. “For your endless love and support. For doing everything in your power to see me well and whole again. Without you, I wouldn’t be standing here today.”

As she spoke, their expressions betrayed a flicker of something—confusion, maybe even disbelief. The real Adelaide, she suspected, would never have said these words. But did she regret veering from the carefully planned lines? Not at all.

Turning back to the crowd, she let the silence linger, heavy and deliberate. The weight of expectation hung in the air. “So now,” she said, her voice rising just enough to carry across the room, “I ask all of you to join me in showing our appreciation for them with a round of applause.”

She started clapping, slow and steady, the sound reverberating in the stillness. One by one, others joined in, the applause swelling into a thunderous ovation. The room seemed to vibrate with the collective energy.

When she glanced back at Mrs. Whitlock, her composure was slipping. Her eyes glistened, and though she tried desperately to keep her emotions in check, the cracks were beginning to show.

The applause grew louder, an overwhelming wave of sound that threatened to drown everything else. Nina raised a hand, signaling for calm. “Thank you,” she said, her voice firm but tinged with gratitude. “That’s enough.”

The room gradually quieted, the tension giving way to an expectant hush. She took a steadying breath and continued, “Before I end my speech tonight, I have one final announcement to share. And I believe it’s something you’ll all find… encouraging.”

A ripple of curiosity passed through the audience. She let the pause stretch, the anticipation building like the crest of a wave.

“As many of you know, my health has been a constant concern—a shadow that has loomed over my family and, perhaps, over some of you as well.” Her tone was measured, each word carefully placed. “But tonight, I bring you wonderful news. The latest laboratory trial was a success.”

A collective gasp swept through the room, the sound sharp and electric. Faces shifted from curiosity to astonishment. She held the silence for a beat longer before delivering the next blow.

“Not only was the trial successful, but after undergoing the treatment myself, I feel stronger than I have in years. And, thanks to a secret antidote my parents searched the world to find, my immune system is now fortified like never before.”

She paused, letting her gaze sweep across the room. “So, I say to you all—there is no need to worry about the Whitlocks losing their successor. I am here to stay.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Every face in the room was frozen, grappling with the weight of her words. Then, like a crack of lightning, a voice rang out.