Chapter 3

Adrien entered and looked first at Marianne, not at me.

"Celeste, release her."

He knew his wife had disappeared three days ago, yet he still did not recognize that another woman stood before him.

"Celeste is missing," I said. "You did not search for her. You crowned a replacement instead."

Annoyance crossed his face. "You injured the North Wing guards and hid from the cameras. Security found no proof you left the palace. Now you claim you were abducted because you want me to stop Vivienne's investiture."

Celeste and I had the same face, but she gripped her left hand when frightened and bit her lower lip when thinking. Even in pain, she hesitated before speaking harshly. Adrien had shared her bed for three years and knew none of it.

“Celeste grips her left hand when she is frightened and bites her lower lip when she is thinking,” I said. “You shared her life for three years. Have you noticed me do either one?”

Adrien's expression shifted, but only for a moment.

“I will not participate in another performance.”

Even faced with something he could not explain, he still chose the answer most convenient to him: Celeste was lying again.

His voice hardened. "Your manner changes whenever you need attention. You accused Vivienne of faking her pregnancy because you were jealous. You forged medical records. You claimed the Household abused you because you refused to accept responsibility for killing a royal heir."

Celeste had brought him evidence. He had already decided that anything she said must be malicious.

"When she could not stand after an interrogation, did you call that performance too?"

"Royal physicians found no permanent injury."

"Physicians employed by the people who interrogated her."

Adrien offered the measured tone of a man certain he was being generous. "Return to the North Wing and stop slandering Vivienne. I will overlook today's violence."

"She took Celeste's place, and you demand that Celeste protect her feelings?"

"Vivienne took nothing. She saved my life during a border attack and carried my child. You pushed her down the stairs because you could not accept that I loved her."

Pain pierced my right arm. I turned slowly, following its intensity. It grew stronger when I faced the west side of the palace, where Cold War bunkers lay beneath the royal archives. Their access system operated outside ordinary Royal Guard control.

Adrien watched my hand tremble. “Pretending to be in pain again? You cut your wrists just to force a transfer to the Royal Medical Center and accuse the palace of abuse.”

So Celeste had not been trying to win back her husband. Denied access to lawyers and independent doctors, she had injured herself because it was the only way to create a medical record beyond the palace’s control.

“The Center found enough evidence to request an independent examination, didn’t it?”

Adrien looked away. “I would not reward emotional manipulation.”

Celeste questioned Vivienne, and he called her jealous. She found evidence, and he called it forged. She sought medical help, and he called it manipulation. She disappeared, and he called it another performance. Adrien was not fooled once. He had chosen never to believe her.

"Did you ever ask why every accusation against her benefited Vivienne?" I asked.

"Vivienne did not need to scheme for my affection."

"That was not my question."

He said nothing. His certainty depended on never asking the right question.

"Your Majesty, please do not blame her," Vivienne said from the gate.

She entered in her investiture gown with Lord Orson, the Household secretary, behind her. Gray cement dust marked his shoes. A restricted underground access card hung from his belt. The pain in my arm intensified. He had recently left the western bunkers.

Vivienne saw Marianne, faltered, then recovered her wounded expression. " Celeste, I know you cannot accept our marriage. If you return for treatment, I will ask His Majesty to forgive you."

At her throat hung a gold locket. Our grandmother had made two when Celeste and I were born. Each bore one twin's name, and together their backs formed a full moon.

"Take it off."

Vivienne clutched it. "Aunt Helena gave it to me. She said the Montclair family should have shared everything with my mother."

"Did she include Celeste's husband?"

Adrien stepped between us. "Disarm her."

Two ladies seized my arms. Vivienne stepped close, slapped me, and leaned toward my ear.

"Your sister is dead," she whispered. "Your parents chose me. Adrien chose me. No one is coming to save you."

She believed she was speaking to Celeste. Instead, she had admitted to Cassandra that she knew my death had left my sister defenseless.

Orson glanced toward the west wall. They were delaying me while someone continued hurting Celeste underground.

When Vivienne lifted her hand again, I caught her wrist.

"Finished?"

I broke the chain, reclaimed the locket, and pushed her aside. My attention went to Orson and the restricted access card hanging from his belt.

“Where did he come from?”

Adrien reached for me. I drew the tactical knife from my boot and stopped it at his throat. Royal Guards surrounded us, unable to fire without risking their king.

"Who injured Celeste's right arm?" I asked.

Vivienne's face changed. "I do not know what you mean."

I pointed the blade toward Orson's access card. "Then where did he come from?"

He covered the card. Vivienne answered too quickly. "He was at the ceremony."

The gray powder on his shoes matched the old bunker walls, and a fresh abrasion crossed his knuckles. He had not attended a ceremony. He had come from an interrogation room. I fixed his face in my memory. If I could not reach Celeste before the guards closed in, Orson would become the trail I followed.

Before Adrien could question him, my mother's voice rang through the courtyard.

"Stop. Who gave you permission to hurt Vivienne?"