I moved my gaze, thinking to call for help, but the unusually loud voices had already drawn people to the scene. Some rushed forward to check the girl’s condition, voices calling for a doctor mixing in with the clamor. As this happened, Lady Irene slowly regained consciousness. The man with honey gold hair helped lift her up, and she clung to his arm, body trembling.
“Lady Elianna...Lady Elianna did this!” she said.
...Pardon?
Everyone at the bottom of the stairs (save for Lady Irene) turned their accusing gazes up at me.
I just stood there frozen, wide-eyed. Was this how a criminal felt when they got caught in the act? I was the heinous lady villain who’d callously thrust a frail maiden down a flight of stairs. Should I also hold a folding fan in one hand and cackle? Or was it more appropriate for me to curse at her and say, “Know your place!”?
Oh dear, this wasn’t the time to entertain such thoughts. Things had just taken such a dramatic, theatrical turn that my mind started to wander. I found myself comparing this scene to one from a romance novel I’d read at length for my aunt just days ago. Maybe the story had been a bad influence on me.
“Irene...you can’t really mean to say that Lady Elianna did this to you?”
“I...I...” As Lady Irene trembled pitifully, flapping her mouth, a new lead character took to the stage. (Or perhaps it would be more appropriate to call him the hero?)
“What is all of this uproar?” Enter Prince Christopher, who still retained his splendor even as he looked unusually irritable.
It was the heroine (or so everyone regarded her as such) who then called his name. “Prince Chris...!” While Lady Irene beamed with joy as tears beaded in her eyes, my heart froze over.
Was I expected to stick to the script (for this seemingly pre-prepared comedy skit) and fulfill my role? Did this fall within the contractual obligations of my agreement with His Highness?
The prince coolly surveyed the scene before kneeling down at Lady Irene’s side. As he looked her over to ensure she wasn’t injured, Lady Irene played up her role as the heroine of a tragedy, clinging to him as she cried. Then, in response to the dignified way he’d posed the question, she timidly plucked up her courage and said, “I-I tried to...I tried to tell Lady Elianna that it was just a misunderstanding about Your Highness and me. B-But she...she said it was all my fault. Then she suddenly shoved me down the stairs...!”
The scene must have been heartrending to those watching, what with the way Lady Irene clapped her hands over her face woefully.
The prince was sympathetic, kindly consoling her. “What do you mean by ‘misunderstanding’? Did Elianna do something else to you besides this?”
“Y-Yes, she did. I just haven’t been able to say anything this whole time.”
“You don’t have anything to fear anymore,” he assured. “Will you give us your testimony so we can get all these crimes out in the open?”
Their gazes met, tears still falling from Lady Irene’s eyes. Even the wet streak left behind on her cheek looked like something out of a painting.
Something was off, but what was it exactly?
I felt a chill go down my spine. I’d seen the prince like this once before. Hidden perfectly behind that devil’s gleaming smile was a carnivore creeping up to slaughter its prey.
Lady Irene passionately pleaded her case. According to her, she’d spent her days in misery ever since she’d arrived at the palace for etiquette lessons. She was ridiculed for being a minor noble, treated like a maid servant, denied her meals, and at the worst of it, she’d been chased off to sleep in the stables where she’d nearly escaped a low-ranking soldier’s violent assault. All of this was at the behest of Elianna, the daughter of a marquess and future ruler of the inner palace.
“A-And then...” She went on to explain how it grew worse after she became acquainted with Lord Glen, Lord Alexei and Prince Christopher. “Just the other day when I went to retrieve a rose from the garden for her, I got soaked because they were watering that day, and she laughed at me. Then when I went to return one of the books as she’d requested, the ladder I tried to use in the archives had been damaged, and Prince Theodore saved me from a dangerous fall. After that, I received a box of sweets from Lady Elianna, and it was filled with...with bugs...!”
Oh my. I’d been quite the little busy bee lately it seemed. Leaving the first half of those accusations aside, the latter did sound vaguely familiar. While I pondered the matter to myself, the prince responded sympathetically to Lady Irene’s laundry list of my (alleged) crimes.
“That must have been so difficult for you, Irene.” He gave a soft nod as he comforted her. “So you were at such a loss that you confronted Elianna directly?”
“Y-Yes. But I never dreamed she would push me down the stairs...!”
“Oh yes, you claim Eli pushed you, correct?”
“Yes! I’m absolutely sure she—” At last she turned from the prince, aiming her accusatory gaze up at me, only for her eyes to go wide and her voice to trail off.
...Terribly sorry, it seems I’ve ruined this grand, once-in-a-lifetime play of yours. I suppose I should also apologize for looking completely unladylike as well. For those of you in the audience, please do understand not all noblewomen have the kind of arm strength that I do.
Miraculously balanced in both arms were five thick tomes, each the width of an adult’s thumb finger; two long, rolled maps in either hand; and a stack of documents and written correspondence heaped on top. For someone of my small stature, it was a virtual tower, high enough to cover the lower half of my face. Library organization had left my arms toned enough that they didn’t tremble under such weight, but it would take a feat of God to be able to push someone down a flight of stairs without disrupting my own balance. And sadly, I was no acrobat’s apprentice (at least as far as I knew).
Prince Christopher gave a small, familiar sigh.
I flinched a bit when I heard it. It was the same woeful sigh my aunt and other family members gave me when they said, “Please don’t show off that arm strength of yours, it’s unbecoming for a lady of such a delicate appearance.” Still, books required proper muscle. At times you needed enough to be able to carry multiple volumes while mounting a ladder.
The prince stood and strode forward, not even looking back as Lady Irene called out entreatingly, “U-Um, Prince Chris...” His footsteps as he started up the stairs were imposing enough to keep the room silent. When he arrived where I stood, he took the maps and half of the books I was holding. I didn’t even have the chance to refuse him.
Being a man, his build was such that he could easily tuck the load under one arm, and yet for some reason he sullenly grumbled under his breath. “Alex...that dolt. After I told him numerous times to have some moderation.”
“Prince Chris...! Please believe me. It really was Lady Elianna who pushed me. And all the other incidents of harassment up until now as well...! I beg of you, make a fair and just decision on this, Your Highness!” Lady Irene now appealed to the prince with tears in her eyes. While she was still drunk off her role as the heroine, she at least had the decency to realize how shameful the situation had become for her.
The prince quietly turned his attention to her pleas. “Indeed. Then first, is there anyone who actually witnessed what took place?”
“Alan did!” Lady Irene whipped around to look at the man, as if he were her last lifeline.
The young man with honey-colored hair smiled innocently back. “Yes, I witnessed Lady Irene Palcas falling from the steps.”
“And what of the claim that Elianna pushed her?”
“Hmm. Yeah, I think it’s pretty clear to everyone that it would’ve been impossible for her to push Lady Irene. Not with how many books she had in her hands. Even I don’t have the level of acrobatics required to play an instrument and push someone at the same time.”
Lady Irene’s face burned bright red as she scowled at him. “Alan, you...!”
He returned the hostility with a soft smile. “Even if I testified on your behalf, the truth would be obvious. Also, if you’ll allow me to add my input as the court’s master musician, I heard Irene cry before I heard her fall. It would be one thing if she cried after the fact, but it was almost as if she knew the attack was coming.”
Blood instantly drained from her face.
Lord Alan viewed her countenance with a look of dissatisfaction, as if to say, “Over already?” He shrugged slightly and commanded the attention of the onlookers behind him as he went on, “You were pretty ill-prepared there at the end, Irene. Perhaps you intended your maneuvering to be clever, but you were dancing on the palm of His Highness’s hand. Especially today. You and your father were aiming for a checkmate, but instead you were swaying to a symphony of self-destruction.”
The onlookers parted, giving way to a short, plump, middle-aged man. Despite his nobleman’s attire, he had a pale complexion and a look of devastation on his face (which I suspected had something to do with the soldiers restraining him).
Lady Irene shrieked in surprise, “Father?!”
Beside me, the prince’s voice—at once light-hearted and yet also penetratingly cold—boomed. “Now then, shall we proceed to the main event?”
It was my first time seeing such a sharp gaze from him, directed at the people down below.