THE ROOM WAS deathly silent.

  Prince Frederick said, "I don't bloody believe it." It was the first time Irina had seen the prince, who was usually always smiling, with an expression so stony.

  Irina dipped her head. "I'm afraid it was the truth."

  "Kate wouldn't... Kate wouldn't..."

  General Stoneworth, still clearly hurting from his ribs though he was doing an excellent job at hiding it, said, "Jealousy makes people do many things. Most of them awful."

"But it's Kate," Prince Frederick argued. "It's Kate. We grew up with her. We know everything about her. She's not that kind of person. She'd never hurt a soul. No way in hell someone could rope her into a scheme like this..."

  "I believe it," General Stoneworth said, though he didn't raise his head to meet anyone's eyes. "I hate to say it, but I believe it. I think that hate in her heart for you was strong enough to commit such a heinous act, Your Highness."

  "I feel awful, truly, to have to deliver such terrible news to you. Her fate is in your hands, we would not interfere regarding it," Irina said earnestly. Well, she wouldn't interfere unless they decided to let her go completely scot free. In which case she would do something about it, because she'd always been someone who held a grudge.

  She turned to Stephen then, who'd remained painful quiet throughout all this. He hadn't  said a word as she spoke, and not a single flicker of emotion had appeared on his face. That terrified her. They were friends, him and Kate. What if they had guessed wrong, and he had harboured some feelings for Lady Katharine?

  It was too late to call off the marriage, but what kind of life would it be, to have a husband who despised you?

  But he just looked deep in thought now, pensive as he tapped his chin, eyes shut.

  They waited, but he still said nothing.

   So Frederick spoke again. "God blast it. Kate's not that kind of person. You're certain it was her?"

  "She admitted it herself," Irina said apologetically. "I'm sorry, but..."

  "Any chance she's being threatened?" Frederick demanded.

  "Without us knowing?" Stoneworth scoffed. "Please." His lips tugged down. "I expected better from her."

  Stephen's eyes opened then, flickering to him. "You knew."

  "That she was in love with you? Of course I did."

  Frederick blinked, turning towards him. "You knew? And you never told anyone?"

  "What was the point?" Stoneworth asked, tilting his head. "It would just make things awkward. And I didn't think she stood a chance anyway. Stephen, let's be honest here, you never looked at her as anything more than a sister. That was all she ever was to you."

  "I never did," Stephen agreed, and Irina let out a quiet breath of relief. "But you should have told me. Then I'd have found a way to... dissuade her."

  "Which would cause a rift between you," Stoneworth sneered. "That was what I was trying to avoid. Me, I always just thought she'd keep it to herself. Not do anything to you. When I  confronted her about it it seemed like she knew perfectly well you were not for her. Both your fates laid elsewhere. I didn't think she'd do anything so extreme. My mistake.'

  "But... but..."

  Stoneworth's cool, grey eyes turned to Frederick. "You wanted her."

  Frederick swallowed. "Once."

  "Until five minutes ago, probably," Stoneworth huffed. "Or even now. It's why you're defending her like this. I get it. I've loved traitors before."

  That was interesting. But Irina didn't ask, didn't press, because she was doing an excellent job being invisible and wanted to keep it that way. It seemed like the wisest way to handle this, to let them talk among themselves as if she wasn't here at all.

  Stephen raised his hand. "Quiet, both of you. I'm thinking."

  "About?" Frederick demanded.

  "How to deal with this situation, damnit," Stephen snapped. "Think with your head, not your emotions, Freddy. We've taught you this before."

  "I'm not you," Frederick snarled back. "I can't do that. It's why I'm a fucking failure, isn't it? The useless son, dabbling around in a bit of everything and failing at all of it. I'm not fucking you, Stephen, get used to it. She's Kate.  She's our best friend. We've known her since we were babes. She made a mistake."

  "She almost killed Irina," Stephen snapped back, gesturing towards her. Irina swallowed and blinked, suddenly feeling the immense weight of three pairs of eyes on her.

  To some degree, she couldn't help but feel guilty. That she was the reason this friend group was falling apart. She knew this feeling, because until a few days ago it had been happening with her friends too.

  "It was a mistake... she needs punishment, but..."

  Irina thought it was the right time to speak again. "As I've mentioned, the choice is in your hands. We will not interfere. Of course, I hope she'd been properly punished, but the degree of it is your choice. I understand that there is a long friendship between you all, and I do not fully blame Lady Katharine—if it was anyone's fault, it was Miss Valeria's."

  Stephen rubbed his forehead. "That's another can of worms I didn't want to open. The Vayanteans... bloody hell."

  "That's a troubling omen. Last thing we need is them on our bad side too."

  "Not all of them," Irina promised. "Just a few extremists."

  "Ideals like those spread, Your Highness," Stoneworth muttered. "Like wildfire, their numbers will only grow and grow until they become the majority. The war has to restart eventually."

  "It's not yet time."

  "And why are we the ones to discuss it?" Stoneworth questioned. "No offence to any of you, but I've been on the front lines of the battlefield. I've seen what happens there. I understand Miss Valeria, why she thought she had to do what she did. I do not agree with it but I know why she did it. This can't be postponed much further."

  Irina pinched her nose. "The casualties..."

  "The Vayanteans have already lost at least a million since the start of the war."

  A million. All those lives... and Irina had felt them weighing down on her, day by day. The feeling that she could do something, do something to stop this massacre. Yet being unable to, again and again. It was hell, but it was what came with being a leader.

  "If we restart the war..."

  Stephen cut in. "This is not what we're discussing now. Miss Valeria and Kate, they'd both have to be dealt with. Will you be dealing with Miss Valeria here?"

  "Here, and then we'll get the Caershireens to decide what to do with her, and see the Vayanteans' attitude towards this situation. Whatever is left of their government anyways," Irina responded grimly. "This is by no means a situation we want to deal with, I hope you've realised here."

  "Perfectly understandable," Stephen groaned. "Okay. Okay. Let's talk about Kate again. Frederick, I get you're upset, but she can't just walk away from this. She has to be punished."

  "How?" Frederick asked, expression tightening. "Exile? Jail?"

  "Likely the former," Stephen said. "She is still half-Hrishnan, it's not as if she has nowhere to go. She'll be okay. But I don't think we want her in Arecia for at least a couple years, wouldn't you agree?"

  "I'd prefer not having her around me for the near future," Irina said gently.

  "I rather agree with that," Stephen nodded. "Doesn't seem like the best choice, after what she's done. And exile is already a very, very minor punishment considering the fact that she's tried to kill a princess."

  Frederick swore under his breath. "Bloody hell. Bloody, bloody hell."

  "It doesn't matter if you like it or not," Stephen snapped. "There's going to be a wedding tomorrow. And we need it to go smoothly."

  "Kate ought to return to Arecia as soon as possible," Stoneworth decided. "Tomorrow morning, maybe?"

  "It can be arranged," Irina said. She didn't say that it already had been, because that would just be rude and a bit unnecessary. They'd had a general idea of how the main trajectory of this conversation would go—it had been the personal responses they'd been worried about. So far, Stephen and Stoneworth didn't seem to take it too poorly. It was Prince Frederick  who was being poorly affected, but they didn't particularly care too much about that. Prince Frederick was, in the grand scheme of things, unimportant. He had no real political power or any true influence.

  "Excellent," Stoneworth murmured. "I'm sure we'll handle the situation in a way that leaves both you and us content."

  "I hope so," Irina agreed.

  Prince Frederick still looked greatly pained, but no one said anything about it. He would get over it, eventually. He had to. This was not something he could decide just because of old sentiments. Lady Katharine had committed a fatal mistake, one that no amount of friendship and love could turn a blind eye to.

  Lady Katharine's days in polite society and Arecia were numbered. And she must realise it too.

  Irina wondered, momentarily, what the other woman was thinking right now. Was she panicking? Was she in deep regret over her actions? One wrong move can ruin people's lives—Lady Katharine was the perfect example of this. Her future could have been perfect, at least in the eyes of an outsider, and now she was ruined.

  But she had to admit that she was glad to see that Stephen did not harbour any special feelings for her. She'd started getting rather possessive over him, she'd noticed in the past few days.

  Was that a good sign? Most likely.

  Stoneworth said, lightly, "Well, this has been a rather grim day."

  Prince Frederick let out a snort. "No fucking kidding."

  Stephen scowled. "Do not be crude, Freddy. We have a lady present."

  "She doesn't mind, do you, Your Highness?" Prince Frederick may not be directing his anger towards her, at least not yet, but there was some of it hidden deep under. That much was clear. He was rational enough to know that this wasn't her fault, but driven enough by his emotions to still hold resentment against her.

  In a way, Irina was the cause of this tragedy. But not because she was her, but simply because she was a public figure and Stephen's fiancee.

  So no, Irina did not feel guilty. So she met Prince Frederick's gaze with a steely one of her  own and said,  firmly, "I do not mind at all, Prince Frederick."

   He tore his gaze away first. Stephen casted her an apologetic glance. Irina did not look at him but nodded in response. It wasn't his fault any more than it was hers. This had already gone far better than she'd thought it would anyways, and she knew when to be grateful and content. This was one of those times.

  "Hell of a way to start a wedding," Stoneworth remarked.

  As if having forgotten his own comments about crude language, Stephen bitterly replied, "This wedding went to hell the moment we stepped foot here, Gabriel."

  Prince Frederick just sat there, in silence, staring down at his feet. Irina pursed her lips, unsure what to say. Comforting them right now would only make things worse.

  Besides, she genuinely had no way to comfort them.

  It was a long time after that Stephen finally opened his mouth. "You don't need to stay here, Irina, if you have something else to do. I'm sure you're extremely busy preparing for tomorrow."

  Irina glanced at the clock. "I have a bit of time to spare. If you need me, I'm free to stay."

"I think it's best," Stoneworth started, giving Prince Frederick the side eye, "if we had a private conversation right now. I'm sure you don't mind, Your Highness."

  "Certainly, not at all." Irina immediately stood. Part of her wanted to bolt out of the room immediately—the tension was starting to get suffocating. "I wish you the best, and just know that we're here to offer support shall you ever need it."

  Bing Yi was waiting outside, looking mighty close to drifting off to sleep. Upon seeing Irina enter, she instantly straightened. "It is done, Your Highness?"

  "Yes, let's return to Ning Yu Gong. I could use a bit of rest before... what do we have next?"

  "Rehearsals, Your Highness," Bing Yi replied without hesitance. "Rehearsals, and then a final go-over of all your luggage and belongings."

  "Excellent, excellent. How long do I have?"

  "An hour, give or take."

  That was acceptable. Enough for her to relax, perhaps enjoy a nice cup of tea to calm herself after that little meeting that she was not at all fond of.

  (She needed it. Desperately. It had taken a slight toll on her.)

  Irina let out a sigh. "We're leaving here in two days, Bing Yi. Are you excited?"

  Bing Yi gave a little smile. "Just a little."

  "Only a little?" Irina asked, feigning disappointment. "Why is that so? The never-ending rain? The bad food? The foreign court, where everyone will be watching and judging our every move?"

  "I don't believe it'll be that bad, Your Highness," Bing Yi said assuredly. "But well, home is home. There is not a place that can ever replace or match up to it."

  "I believe that is the importance of home, yes," Irina responded, letting her eyes flutter shut. "But I think a person can have multiple."

  Bing Yi didn't say anything, dipping her head as the two turned the corner. They were getting into familiar territory now, only a few short minutes away from Ning Yu Palace. The  tiredness Irina had been feeling had now been replaced by a faint sense of... excitement. Anticipation, even.

  A change had been in the making for a long time. And tomorrow was the day of reckoning.

  Ning Yu Palace was empty and quiet. It only had two main residents anyways, and Myrina was clearly out and about with her own business. She'd have plenty on her plate right now, all things considered.

  Irina dismissed Bing Yi, telling her to come fetch her when it was time to go. She herself walked into her own house, smoothing her gown as she sat down on the daybed.

  She sucked in a deep breath.

  The house was starting to look empty now. All the things she'd requested be packed, all the things she cared about, were gone from the room. The four walls seemed bare without the ink paintings she'd had hung. The shelves seemed sad without the trinkets she'd had displayed there.

  This palace would no longer be hers. It would become a guesthouse, very likely, for the most prestigious of guests. Maybe relatives of the Imperial family, though god knew they only had a few. Myrina would stay here unless she requested to move. If Irina came back, she'd be assigned a different guesthouse, or she'd stay in her Princess Manor outside of the Palace itself. It wasn't far.

  She'd lived here since she was thirteen. That was the year she'd been allowed to move into a Palace of her own. She'd had control and a hand in every inch of this building, every little bit. She knew every brick, had touched every wall.

  It was time to move on.

  "I apologise for interrupting your reminiscing."

  Irina snapped alert, spinning around. Myrina. She'd portalled in, most likely, while she'd been lost in thought. No way she'd have walked in without her hearing.

  The door of the room slid open a second later, and Rhysa Jiang walked in, her hair combed up in a high ponytail, dressed in her usual black and red Iron Wolf garbs. She offered a nod. "Apologies for the intrusion."

  Irina's brows scrunched up. Neither of them would enter like this unless something important had happened. "What is it?"

  "Lady Katharine Morenshire," Rhys replied, arms crossing. "She just tried to commit suicide."

  Irina snapped alert, taking a frantic step forward. "Bloody hell," she sputtered out. "Tell me she's alright."

  "Because you feel bad for her, or because you need her alive for her trial?" Myrina asked gently.

  "Both," Irina snapped back in response."Let's not do this, Myrina."

  Myrina murmured, not meeting her gaze. "She's okay. We found her in time. We'd been watching her carefully since she asked for a shawl this morning."

  "You let her?" Irina asked, incredulous.

   Rhys said, "We were watching her. But this... this doesn't bode well for the trial, does it?"

  "Someone watch her every step of the way back to Arecia."

  "Already on it," Rhys assured. "You don't need to worry about that.

  "Why would she try to commit suicide?" Irina muttered. Of the two women, she'd been far more concerned with Valeria Bustillos Ramos trying something like that. It seemed in line with the actions of a political zealot, the desperation to be martyred. Not Lady Katharine.

  "You get married tomorrow," Myrina said softly. "Prince Stephen gets married tomorrow. Some people, some people don't heal from wounds of love."

  "Not everyone can be you and me," Rhys said. "How do you want it handled? Do you want to see her? Or let the Prince see her, if he wishes to?"

  "Prince Frederick is more likely to take the opportunity than Stephen." Irina shook her head, placing her hand on the table next to her daybed. "Stephen won't want to. Offer it anyways, tell them what happened immediately. If Prince Frederick asks to see her, let him, but watch him carefully."

  Myrina asked, "He's sympathetic?"

  "He's in love with her," Irina's eyes flickered upwards as she said so, "and I think we've seen enough of the horrid things love can make a person do in the past few days."

  Rhys winced. "The hell is this love triangle? And I thought we were dramatic."

  "Stephen handled it rather well, in my opinion. Stoneworth said he didn't think it was that surprising, everything considered. He's more concerned about Miss Valeria and the Vayanteans, in my opinion—a man of business through and through. Prince Frederick is another story. Keep an eye out for him too, but don't make it obvious. Just in case. I don't want to take any risks." Irina rubbed her forehead with her free hand.  "One day before the wedding, and I'm still served with something like this."

  "If you're to become queen," Myrina told her, tipping her head as she formed a portal besides her, probably into some small, vacant alleyway near Lady Katharine's current residence, "you ought to get used to this soon."

  On that note, both women left the room.