Chapter 4 - The Bloodline Trial
By twilight, the palace of Oakhaven had transformed into an armed camp.
The noble guests had not been permitted to leave the palace grounds; Duke Valen had invoked the Emergency Protocol of the Realm, sealing the iron portcullises and posting heavily armed City Watchmen at every entrance. Officially, it was to "protect the integrity of the royal succession." In reality, it was a hostage situation.
Elia had been moved to the High Tower of the Royal Quarters—not a dungeon, but a luxurious prison.
She sat before a grand vanity table inlaid with mother-of-pearl, staring at her reflection. Two royal handmaidens had spent the last two hours bathing her in rosewater, scrubbing the kitchen grime from her pores until her skin was raw and pink, combing out her long chestnut hair until it fell in glossy waves down her back.
They had dressed her in a gown of deep emerald silk, with silver lace bordering the high collar to conceal her throat, and soft velvet slippers that hid the glowing brand upon her foot.
She looked entirely different. She looked like a ghost from the portraits in the high gallery.
The door to the chambers burst open with a heavy thud.
Duke Valen strode in, flanked by four High Inquisitors dressed in heavy robes of crimson wool. Behind them walked Prince Cassian, his eyes locked onto Valen’s back like a wolf tracking a stag.
"Chancellor," Elia said, her voice instinctively reverting to the subservient tone of a maid before she caught herself and straightened her spine. "You enter without knocking."
Valen’s thin lips twitched with subtle mockery. "Forgive me, *Your Highness*. Protocol is fluid when the fate of a kingdom hangs upon a single breath."
"Why are you here, Valen?" Queen Aurelia demanded, stepping out from the adjoining bedchamber. She held an ivory-handled walking stick, but she held it like a weapon. "The Matron has confirmed the seal. The Lumina Relic has acknowledged her. Your daughter failed. The matter is concluded."
"The matter has barely begun, Your Majesty," Valen replied smoothly. He signaled to the inquisitors. One of them stepped forward, carrying a massive bowl forged from solid silver, filled to the brim with dark, viscous liquid that gave off a faint scent of ozone and dried iron.
"What is that?" Elia asked, shrinking back slightly.
"The Sanguis Rite," Valen said, his eyes glittering with malicious satisfaction. "A simple brand upon the flesh can be forged by master flesh-crafters from the eastern rogue states. A relic can be deceived by dark charms sewn into the lining of a peasant's sleeve. But the Blood Basin of the First King does not lie."
"The Sanguis Rite is an archaic savagery!" Aurelia shouted, her face turning pale. "The basin contains distilled vitriol and star-silver! If a person of common blood immerses their hand, the liquid boils their flesh to the bone within seconds! It has not been used in two hundred years!"
"It was used when King Alden took the throne," Valen countered, his voice sharp as a razor. "It was used when Prince Cassian came of age. Cassian passed the trial. His flesh was untouched, the water turned to liquid gold."
Valen turned his piercing gaze directly onto Elia.
"If this girl is the true Princess Evelyn, the blood of the First Kings flowing in her veins will neutralize the vitriol. The water will turn to pure light, and her hand will emerge unharmed. If she is an imposter... she will lose the hand that dared touch the Lumina Relic, and her execution will proceed at dawn."
"I forbid it!" Aurelia cried out, stepping between them. "I will not risk my daughter's life on an ancient barbarism!"
"If you forbid it, Your Majesty," Valen said with an icy, dangerous bow, "then the High Council will declare this claimant false by default. Lady Seraphina will be confirmed as the Prince’s betrothed, and this girl will be transferred to the Citadel dungeons under charge of treasonous impersonation."
He had backed them into a corner. Valen controlled the High Council; he controlled the city garrisons.
"Cassian, stop this!" Aurelia pleaded, turning to her son. "You are the commander of the Vanguard! Arrest this man!"
Cassian did not draw his sword. His gaze was fixed on the silver basin. He stepped forward, his eyes darting to the rim of the bowl, then to the inquisitor holding it.
"Cassian?" Elia whispered, feeling a wave of betrayal crash over her. Was he in league with Valen? Did he want her dead so he could keep his throne?
Cassian walked slowly to the table where the inquisitor had placed the basin. He leaned down, sniffing the air near the liquid. A barely perceptible frown creased his forehead.
"The rite is lawful under the Codex of Kings," Cassian said slowly, his voice flat.
Valen smirked. "You see? The Prince understands duty."
"However," Cassian continued, his hand suddenly shooting out like a striking viper. He grabbed the front of the High Inquisitor's crimson robes, hauling the man violently over the table until his face was inches from the dark liquid. "The Codex also states that the bowl must be prepared using sacred water from the High Cathedral’s well, blessed by three independent arbiters."
The inquisitor whimpered, his eyes darting frantically toward Duke Valen.
"Why is the water smelling of sulfur and nightshade root, Inquisitor?" Cassian hissed, his grip tightening until the man's face turned purple. "Tell me. Before I submerge your face into this basin to test its purity."
"Cassian, release him!" Valen barked, his aristocratic composure cracking. "You insult the holy office!"
"I am the High Commander of the Vanguard," Cassian snarled, turning his lethal gaze upon the Duke. "And I know the scent of chemical poison when I smell it. You laced the basin with dissolved quicksilver. Even if the First King himself rose from his tomb and put his hand in that bowl, the acid would dissolve his flesh."
Elia gasped. Aurelia’s hand flew to her mouth in horror.
"A baseless slander!" Valen spat, though a sheen of cold sweat broke out across his forehead.
"Is it?" Cassian drew a silver dagger from his boot. He sliced the tip of his own thumb, letting a single drop of his royal blood fall toward the surface of the basin.
The moment the Prince’s blood touched the liquid, the bowl hissed violently. A cloud of acrid, black smoke billowed upward, and the silver rim of the basin began to pit and corrode before their very eyes.
Dead silence filled the room.
"You tried to assassinate the Princess of Oakhaven in front of the Queen," Cassian whispered, his voice vibrating with pure, murderous rage. "In the presence of the High Inquisitors."
Valen took a half-step back, his eyes darting toward the heavy oak doors. "An error... an error by the alchemical scribes. They will be interrogated. Heads will roll for this incompetence."
"Yes," Cassian said, stepping away from the trembling inquisitor, his eyes locked onto Valen. "Heads will certainly roll, Chancellor. But not tonight. Tonight, this room will be guarded exclusively by my northern veterans. Anyone who approaches within thirty paces of Princess Evelyn without my written seal will be gutted like a feral dog."
Valen gathered his composure with terrifying speed. He bowed stiffly, his face a pale, impassive mask once more.
May you like
"As the Prince commands," Valen murmured. "We shall reconvene at the Solstice Banquet tomorrow evening. The High Council expects the Royal Family to present a unified front. Until then... sleep lightly, Princess."
The Duke turned on his heel and swept out of the chambers, the terrified inquisitors scrambling after him.
