The revelation of her identity sent a ripple of murmurs through the nobles. The emperor’s face darkened, and Father’s hardened.
“Why is Lady Eliant’s nursemaid here?” the emperor asked sternly.
The nursemaid flinched under his tone.
“His Majesty is asking you,” the First Consort snapped.
The nursemaid raised her head, her swallow echoing in the tense silence. Her trembling eyes briefly closed before meeting mine, brimming with tears.
“I’m sorry, my lady. I can no longer hide this sin. Please forgive me.”
With a mournful expression, she turned to the emperor, her demeanor almost tragic.
“This humble commoner confesses to His Majesty. Bionne… Lady Eliant is not the daughter of Marquis Eliant!”
—
Act 15: The Truth
Her bombshell statement sent shockwaves through the room. Even the emperor, composed throughout, widened his eyes in surprise.
“You must wish to die,” Father’s voice cut through the suffocating silence, low and even but laced with a chilling intent that seemed ready to tear her apart.
Startled by his palpable hostility, the guards instinctively reached for their swords, despite no command from the emperor.
“Calm yourself, Marquis Eliant,” the First Consort said coolly.
Father’s murderous gaze shifted slowly to her, his face as cold as frost. “May I take this as an insult to me and House Eliant?”
She remained unfazed. “Of course not. You may be displeased now, but you’ll thank me later.”
Bang!
Father slammed the table and stood, glaring at her with lethal intensity, as if he’d charge her with a sword if he had one.
“I understand your shock, Marquis. I was equally appalled when I learned the truth,” she said smoothly.
“Marquis Eliant, sit,” the emperor ordered quietly, and the guards moved to restrain Father’s advance.
Father’s furious gaze lingered on the emperor. Known for his unshakable composure, he now radiated defiance, as if the emperor himself meant nothing in the face of this affront to me.
Instead of rebuking him, the emperor sighed softly.
“The meeting isn’t over.”
He pointedly gestured at me. Father’s enraged eyes met mine and twisted with pain. Though unseen, I felt the deep wound in his heart.
Though convened by the First Consort, this meeting was my doing.
As the saying goes, “Give flesh to take bone.”
To defeat a formidable enemy like her, I had to risk everything. She was no easy foe, and I had to stake all to bring her down.
I didn’t want my people hurt, but this time, it was unavoidable. Cutting out rotten flesh, though painful, was necessary for the future.
I smiled at Father, reassuring him—it was all I could do.
“Marquis Eliant,” the emperor called again.
After staring at me, Father reluctantly sat. Judging him composed, the emperor turned to the nursemaid.
“Explain yourself. If you lie, you and your family will face execution.”
Her eyes trembled, darting to the First Consort.
“Speak only the truth, and you’ll be fine,” the First Consort said.
“Lady Siona… the late Marchioness Eliant suffered greatly from the marquis’s indifference,” the nursemaid began.
Some nobles, recalling the marchioness’s devotion to Father, nodded in agreement.
“In her loneliness, she sought solace in an improper relationship, and its proof stands before you—Bionne, my lady.”
The room erupted in gasps. Even those unmoved earlier began to waver at her detailed account.
“So I’m not an Eliant? That’s quite a tale,” I said, speaking before anyone else could.
Father, about to lunge at her, met my gaze. I shook my head, slowly approaching the nursemaid.
I understood his feelings. This wasn’t just about my or the late marchioness’s dishonor.
Narrowly, it threatened to drag House Eliant and House Pison into ruin.
Broadly, it risked making the imperial family—and the empire itself—a laughingstock.
Had I not been the crown prince’s fiancée, it might have been dismissed as a noble house’s scandal.
But as Sys’s betrothed, my disgrace was his, and his, as the future emperor, was the empire’s.
This wasn’t a mere domestic squabble—it was a grave matter.
The First Consort knew this wasn’t just about me.
Years ago, despite countless rumors, I became Sys’s fiancée unscathed. For her, cautious and suspicious, to escalate this now meant she had solid evidence. Holding a trump card and not using it would be foolish.
She wasn’t a fool—she’d prepared thoroughly to bring me down.
Though her true target was Sys, not me, she’d use any means to weaken him.
With Sys currently vulnerable, I was his Achilles’ heel—a perfect opportunity she’d seize with everything she had.
I stopped before the prostrate nursemaid.
She looked up at me.
“Evidence?” I asked.
“You know the truth better than anyone,” she replied.
“I think you’re the one who’s lost her mind.”
She bit her lip at my sarcasm, rummaging in her clothes. “This is the proof.”
She held up a worn book, her face triumphant.
“The marchioness’s diary.”
Murmurs filled the room again. An attendant took the diary and handed it to the emperor. I watched silently.
“How is this diary evidence?” the emperor asked.
“Born of a moment’s indiscretion, Bionne drove the marchioness to madness,” the nursemaid said.
The murmurs grew louder, and the emperor’s brow furrowed in displeasure.
Father sat expressionless, but his glare at the nursemaid was murderous.
“The diary details her improper relationship and her descent until her suicide,” she continued.
“Suicide?!” someone exclaimed, and gasps echoed. The marchioness’s death had been kept secret by Father’s orders.
The emperor looked at him, shocked.
“Is this true, Marquis Eliant?”
Before Father could speak, I answered, “If her words are true.”
All eyes turned to me.
“What do you mean?” the emperor asked.
“The only witness to my mother’s death was her nursemaid and confidante—this woman.”
I stepped toward the emperor. “May I see the diary first?”
He had the attendant pass it to me. The diary, neither thick nor thin, bore the marks of time.
Its early pages held neat handwriting, brimming with the marchioness’s love for Father.
Toward the end, the text grew erratic, filled with regret for her actions, resentment toward Father’s indifference, and anger and curses directed at me.
I snapped the diary shut and handed it to the attendant. “It’s indeed my mother’s handwriting.”
The nursemaid’s lips twisted in triumph.
“But it’s not her diary.”
Her triumphant expression collapsed. “It is the marchioness’s diary! Don’t distort the truth!”
I turned to face her squarely. Half-risen, she glared at me. “Heaven and earth know the truth. You can’t cover the sky with your hands!”
She scolded me like a child. I stared back, noting the venom and hostility in her eyes.
Her resentment toward me was understandable—I’d cast her out penniless from the comfort of House Eliant.
But the marchioness was different. They’d been childhood companions.
Why was she so viciously defaming her former mistress?
I recalled the nursemaid from back then. When everyone turned against me, she stayed by my side, whispering that I was right, that my actions were just.
Was that truly loyalty?
I chuckled. What did it matter now? She stood against me, and I intended to remove her completely.
“Let’s say you’re right. Why now?” I sneered down at her.
“You had countless chances to reveal this. Why this moment?”
“For you, my lady.”
“For me?” I tilted my head, feigning confusion, despite her murderous glare.
“Even when you, blinded by that bastard child, cast me out, I only wanted your happiness.
But I could no longer watch you destroy yourself.”
