Akintola pulled out a small notebook. “Before you go in, I need a brief debrief. What happened at Hollowvale is going into official records. The Crown's statement will matter.”
I swallowed. “The Chancellor orchestrated attacks on the royal family over an extended period. He was apprehended during an attempted escape.”
“And the other matter?” Akintola's pen hovered over paper. “The aide. Élodie Mercier.”
The name hit like a fist. “She was complicit. She helped him. Covered his movements. Provided intelligence.”
“For how long?”
“Years.” The word came out bitter. “Maybe her whole time in the palace.”
Akintola wrote carefully. Then looked up. “I'm sorry. I know she was close to you.”
“She was.” Past tense. It hurt more than the physical wounds. “Not anymore.”
“Do you need more time before?—”
“No.” I straightened. Felt Viktor shift closer. Supportive without hovering. “I need to see them. Need to understand.”
Akintola studied me for a moment. Then nodded. “I'll be here. If you need anything.”
He stepped aside. Let us pass.
Marcel sat in his. Chained despite the guards. Bandaged but alive. He looked up when we entered. Smiled like we were old friends meeting for tea.
“Your Highness. Come to gloat?”
“No.” I stopped outside the bars. Viktor at my shoulder. My father behind us both. “Come to listen.”
“To what? My manifesto? My justification?” He laughed. “I won't give you that satisfaction.”
“Then tell me why.” I gripped the bars. “Why her? Why my mother? Why everything?”
“Because someone had to.” He leaned forward. Chains rattling. “Your father was weak. Your mother made him weaker. The kingdom was dying of kindness. Someone had to be willing to make the hard choices.”
“Like murder.”
“Like survival.” His eyes blazed. “Do you know how many threats I've stopped? How many plots I've shut down? How many times I've saved this crown while you played vigilante and your father played grief-stricken widower?”
“I won’t ever forgive for what you did to her.”
“I removed an obstacle.” No remorse. No shame. “And I'd do it again. Because she was making this kingdom soft. Vulnerable. Weak.” He paused. “Just like you're doing now with your pet soldier.”
Viktor's hand on my shoulder stopped me from reaching through the bars.
“What happens to me?” Marcel asked. “Death? Life imprisonment? Exile?”
“You don't get to be a martyr.” I said it clearly. “You don't get to die for your cause and let history debate if you were right. You get to rot. In here. Forgotten. While the kingdom you tried to save survives without you.”
“Life imprisonment then.” He smiled. “I can live with that.”
“Good.” I turned to the guards. “No visitors. No letters. No communication with the outside world. He dies here. Alone. With nothing but his choices for company.”
I walked away. Didn't look back. Didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his words had cost me.
Élodie's cell was at the end of the corridor.
She sat on the cot. Knees pulled up. Arms wrapped around them. Staring at nothing.
