The next hours passed in fragments.
Physicians. The Duke and Duchess arriving in a frenzy. Amy carried away on a stretcher, still unconscious but breathing, thank God, still breathing. Questions, endless questions. Lya answered them all, her voice hollow, her mind spinning.
No, I didn't pour her tea. No, I didn't see anyone near the pot. Yes, I was alone at the table before you all arrived. Yes, I sent away the maid. No, I don't know where she went. Yes, I know how this looks.
By evening, Crown Prince Elias stood before her in the Duke's study, his face a mask of cold fury.
"You expect me to believe this was coincidence." His voice was flat. Deadly.
"I expect nothing." Lya stood straight, though her legs trembled. "I'm telling you what happened."
"You were alone with the tea service. You sent away the only witness. Your sister, who has only ever shown you kindness drank from a cup you had every opportunity to poison." He stepped closer. "And you expect me to believe in coincidence."
Lya's hands curled into fists. She had been passive for sixteen years. She had taken the whispers, the glances, the open contempt. She had gone to her room when told, had stayed silent when accused, had swallowed every humiliation like medicine.
Something broke.
"Do you even remember?" she heard herself ask.
Elias stopped. "What?"
"Do you remember." Her voice shook, but she forced the words out. "When we were children. Before she was your fiancée. Before you decided I was a villain."
His eyes flickered, something passing through them too fast to read.
"We used to be friends." Lya's throat burned. "We used to run through the palace gardens. You taught me to skip stones. I showed you where the best strawberries grew. You told me your mother used to sing to you before she died, and I told you I pretended my mother sang to me too, even though she never did."
Silence.
Elias's face had gone very still.
"You forgot," Lya whispered. "You forgot all of it. You heard them call me jealous, call me cruel, call me a villain and you never once asked if it was true. You never once looked at me and remembered the girl who shared her strawberries with you."
His jaw tightened. "That was years ago. People change."
"People don't change that much. They just stop looking."
The words hung between them. For one breath, two, Lya thought she saw something crack in his cold expression.
Then he moved closer, and his voice when he spoke was ice wrapped in silk.
"You dare." He was close enough that she could see the fury trembling in his jaw. "You dare speak to me of friendship while my fiancée lies in a coma. You dare invoke childhood memories while poison works through her veins. You are not the girl who shared strawberries. That girl died somewhere along the way, and in her place stands someone consumed by jealousy, bitterness, and hate."
"I didn't poison her."
"Then explain it." His voice rose. "Explain how her cup was poisoned and yours was not. Explain why you were alone with the tea. Explain the maid who conveniently disappeared. Explain any of it, and I will listen."
Lya opened her mouth. Closed it.
She couldn't explain. She didn't know.
Elias nodded slowly, as if she had confirmed everything. "That's what I thought."
He turned to the guards at the door. "Lady Lya Varnath is under arrest for the attempted murder of Lady Amy Varnath and the assault upon the Crown Prince's betrothed. Confine her to the tower cells pending trial."
"Your Highness!" her father started.
"Your daughter," Elias said coldly, "is a poisoner. If Amy dies, so does she."
The guards took Lya's arms. She didn't resist. She looked at Elias one last time, at the stranger wearing the face of her childhood friend.
"He wouldn't have let this happen," she said quietly. "The boy who taught me to skip stones. He would have asked questions. He would have looked."
Elias said nothing.
They led her away.
---
The tower cell was cold, damp, and dark. Lya sat on the stone floor, her back against the wall, and watched the single sliver of moonlight creep across the floor.
She thought about the maid. Elara. Kind eyes, burned arms, gone before anyone else arrived.
She thought about the tea. The strange taste Amy mentioned. The fact that Lya's own cup had been fine.
She thought about the voices behind the hedge. Amy's plan. By the time we're done, everyone will see.
And she thought about Elias's face when she'd mentioned the strawberries. That flicker of something, recognition? Pain? Regret?
It didn't matter now. Nothing mattered except the cold stone and the darkness and the knowledge that somewhere in the castle, her sister lay fighting for a life that everyone would blame her for trying to take.
Lya closed her eyes and waited for whatever came next.