For a long moment, silence filled the chamber.
Then— “I see.”
That was all.
Two words.
Elizabeth’s breath hitched.
Had she made a mistake? Had she imagined the significance of this meeting? Had she—?
The Queen exhaled, reaching for her cane. “I am told there will be a trial.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the duchess agreed.
“A swift one.”
“As His Highness deems fitting, Your Majesty.”
Another pause.
The Queen pressed her lips together. “So they wish to make an example of him.”
Elizabeth frowned slightly. “Your Majesty, I do not believe—”
The Queen lifted a hand.
Elizabeth fell silent immediately.
“You believe much, Lady Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth stiffened and dropped her gaze to the floor.
She could feel doubt creeping in now, a terrible, humiliating thought forming in her mind—Am I wrong? Did I imagine it?
The Queen tilted her head slightly, considering her. Then, at last, she sighed. “I shall refer the matter to my son.”
Elizabeth’s stomach dropped. “The Prince Regent?”
The Queen’s expression was unchanging. “Thatismy son.”
Elizabeth felt herself sway slightly. This was far more serious than she had thought.
If the Queen had already decided to involve the Prince, then she had known—before Elizabeth had even set foot in Buckingham House—that there was truth to what she had seen.
Elizabeth exhaled slowly, straightening.
The Queen lifted a brow. “You are trembling,” she said, not unkindly.
Elizabeth forced her hands to steady. “I am not afraid.”
The Queen’s lips twitched faintly—not quite a smile, but something close. “Then you are a fool,” she said mildly.
Elizabeth swallowed. “I hope not, Your Majesty.”
The Queen adjusted the lace at her wrist. “That will be all.”
The duchess curtsied. Elizabeth followed. They were dismissed.
