Evelina's POV
The door crashes open so violently it slams against the wall.
I jerk awake, my heart hammering. Sunlight streams through my windows—morning already? I didn't sleep. I couldn't. I just sat in the corner of my room all night, crying and thinking and trying to figure out what to do.
But I ran out of time.
Guards flood into my bedroom, at least six of them in full armor. Their swords are drawn. They're looking at me like I'm dangerous.
Like I'm a criminal.
"No," I whisper, scrambling backward on my bed. "Wait—"
Then my father walks in behind them.
Lord Ashcroft, head of our noble house, looks at me with an expression I've never seen before. Not anger. Not disappointment. Something worse.
Disgust.
"Father?" My voice shakes. "What's happening?"
"Don't call me that." His words are ice-cold. "You lost the right to call me Father the moment you betrayed this family."
My stomach drops. Isolde did it. She actually did it.
"I didn't betray anyone!" I try to stand up, but the guards move closer, blocking me. "Whatever Isolde told you, it's a lie!"
"Your sister told me nothing," Father says, his voice deadly calm. "She didn't need to. The evidence speaks for itself."
"What evidence? There is no—"
"Search the room," Father commands the guards. "Find it."
Find what? There's nothing to find. I haven't done anything wrong.
The guards tear through my bedroom like wild animals. They throw open my wardrobe, scattering my dresses on the floor. They dump out my jewelry boxes. They rip books off my shelves, checking behind them.
"Father, please," I beg. "Listen to me. Isolde is lying. She and Adrian have been—"
"Enough!" He holds up one hand, silencing me. "I will not hear you speak lies about your sister. Not after what you've done."
"I haven't done anything!"
"My lord!" One of the guards calls from my closet. "We found something!"
No. No, no, no.
The guard emerges holding a small wooden box I've never seen before. He opens it, and my blood turns to ice.
Inside are candles. Strange symbols carved into wooden pieces. Dried herbs tied with black thread. And a book with a dark cover, the kind that shows pictures of forbidden magic.
Isolde's "evidence."
"That's not mine!" I shout desperately. "I've never seen that before! Someone planted it—"
"Someone?" Father's voice cuts through my protest. "Who? Your loyal maids who've served you for years? The guards who protect this palace? Or perhaps you'll blame your innocent sister who came to me this morning in tears, worried about your strange behavior?"
"Yes! Blame Isolde!" I'm crying now, tears streaming down my face. "She's the one who—"
"She warned me you would say that." Father's expression hardens even more. "She said you'd try to blame her for your own sins. That you'd twist the truth because you can't accept that Prince Adrian chose her instead of you."
The words hit me like a slap. Isolde thought of everything. Every lie, every defense I could make, she already poisoned Father against it.
"Keep searching," Father orders.
Another guard moves to my dresser, opening the bottom drawer. He pulls out more items—a small altar made of stones, more candles, pages covered in strange writing.
All planted. All fake. All proof I can't deny because it's physically here in my room.
"The old gods," Father breathes, his face pale. "You've been praying to the forbidden ones. The betrayer gods that nearly destroyed our kingdom three hundred years ago."
"I haven't!" My voice breaks. "I swear on my life, Father, I didn't put those things there!"
"Your life?" He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Your life is already forfeit, Evelina. The moment you decided to practice dark magic, you signed your own death warrant."
The room spins. Death warrant. He said death warrant.
"The law is clear," Father continues, his voice formal now, like he's reading from a legal document. "Any citizen of Valenmoor caught practicing forbidden magic shall be executed. No exceptions. Not even for nobility." He pauses, his eyes cold. "Not even for my daughter."
"Former daughter," he corrects himself. "As of this moment, you are no longer part of House Ashcroft. Your name is stricken from our records. Your title is revoked. You have no family, no claim, no protection."
Each word is a knife in my heart. My own father is disowning me. Erasing me like I never existed.
"You can't do this," I whisper.
"I can. I must." For just a second, something flickers in his eyes. Pain, maybe. But it vanishes quickly. "You've disgraced our house. Brought shame upon our name. I will not let your sins taint us further."
"But I'm innocent!"
"The evidence says otherwise." He nods to the guards. "Take her."
"No!" I try to run, but they're too fast. Strong hands grab my arms, yanking them behind my back. Cold metal circles my wrists—chains. They're putting me in chains like a common criminal.
"Father, please!" I scream as they drag me toward the door. "Don't do this! Just listen to me for one minute! Please!"
He turns his back on me. Actually turns away, like he can't stand to look at me.
"Where's Mother?" I cry out desperately. "Mother wouldn't let you do this! She—"
"Your mother agrees with my decision," Father says without turning around. "She's ashamed to have raised such a daughter."
The words shatter something inside me. My own mother. The woman who gave birth to me. She's ashamed of me.
The guards haul me into the hallway. Servants press against the walls, staring at me with wide, frightened eyes. Some whisper to each other. Others just look away, like I'm already dead.
"Move aside!" the captain of the guard shouts. "Make way for the prisoner!"
Prisoner. That's what I am now. Not Lady Evelina. Not the future queen. Just a prisoner.
We pass through the palace corridors I've walked my entire life. Everything looks the same, but it's all different now. These halls aren't mine anymore. This palace isn't my home.
I have nothing. I am nothing.
Then I see her.
Isolde stands at the top of the grand staircase, wearing a beautiful morning dress. Her hair is perfectly styled. Her face is arranged in an expression of sad concern, like she's heartbroken about what's happening to me.
But her eyes tell the truth. They sparkle with victory.
"I'm so sorry, Evie," she calls out as the guards drag me past. Her voice carries through the halls, making sure everyone hears. "I tried to help you. I really did. But you wouldn't listen."
I lunge toward her, rage giving me strength. "You did this! You lying, evil—"
A guard strikes me across the face. Pain explodes through my cheek and I taste blood.
"Control yourself," he growls.
Isolde gasps dramatically, one hand flying to her mouth. "She's completely mad. The dark magic must have poisoned her mind." She looks at the gathered servants with tears in her eyes. "My poor sister. What happened to you?"
I want to scream the truth. Want to tell everyone what she really did. But what's the point? No one will believe me. Not with all that "evidence" in my room. Not when I look like a crazy person covered in tears and blood.
Isolde wins. She wins everything.
The guards drag me down the stairs, my feet catching on the steps. I stumble, nearly falling, but they yank me upright and keep moving.
We reach the throne room doors. Massive oak panels carved with the kingdom's crest. I've walked through these doors a thousand times. Always as Lady Evelina Ashcroft, beloved daughter of a noble house.
Today I walk through them as a criminal.
The doors swing open, and my breath catches.
The entire court is assembled inside. Hundreds of nobles packed into the room. They all turn to stare at me—the disgraced lady in chains, bleeding and crying and destroyed.
But that's not what makes me freeze in terror.
At the front of the room, standing beside the empty throne, is High Priestess Mordaine. She's wearing her ceremonial robes, all white and gold, with the symbol of the Pantheon glowing on her chest.
Her eyes meet mine across the crowded room.
And she smiles.
Not a kind smile. Not a sympathetic smile.
A smile that promises pain.