CHAPTER 215: THE HUNT

[Lavinia’s POV — Imperial Palace, The Tea Party—After the Whisper]

The garden had never been so silent. Not even the wind dared stir the leaves. Fans froze mid-flutter, goblets stilled halfway to lips.

A single rumor, spoken aloud, had turned the air into glass—fragile, brittle, and ready to shatter at the faintest sound.

And through it all, I smiled. Calm. Serene. Untouchable.

"Rumors are fascinating things," I said at last, my voice light as though discussing nothing more important than the color of the sky. My gaze drifted across the nobles—one by one—making each squirm beneath the weight of my eyes. "They grow like weeds. Easy to spread, hard to kill. But a garden only flourishes when weeds are torn out by the root."

A sharp clink echoed as I set my cup down, the note ringing like steel.

Several nobles flinched. Some paled. Eleania’s fan snapped shut with a crack that sounded far too much like breaking bone.

I turned back to Lily, who trembled under my touch. I softened my smile, but the warmth in it was deliberate—dangerously deliberate. "You were brave to speak, Lady Lily. Braver than most."

Her lips parted, caught between relief and dread.

"But bravery must walk hand in hand with caution," I continued, my voice honey over hidden blades. "Because words carry weight. And if these words are false, then the one who sowed them..." My eyes swept the table once more, scarlet flashing like a warning flare. "...will be found. And when I find them, I will not be merciful."

The silence thickened, suffocating. No one dared move.

I leaned back, letting the tension coil tighter around every trembling noble. "Osric."

He bowed his head slightly, his tone steady and resolute. "Do not worry, Princess. I shall find the one responsible within two days."

A smile curved my lips, light but edged. "Good. Then I entrust this task to you alone."

He inclined his head, and I turned my gaze back to Lady Lily, softening my expression as though nothing had transpired. "Now then... shall we continue our tea? I would hate for such unpleasant weeds to spoil the taste."

But the calm did not last.

A voice rose timidly from across the table, delicate yet trembling with hidden nerves. "Y-Your Highness... there are many unpleasant rumors that spread in the Empire. This one is... just the same. I—I do not think it is a matter of great concern."

All eyes shifted toward the speaker: Lady Nivea.

Her words acted like a spark, and soon the others began nodding quickly, eager to seize the excuse she had handed them.

"Yes... yes, Your Highness. Rumors are meant to be cruel... but they are only wind."

"Indeed! Trust us, we do not believe such slander."

"Yes, Lady Nivea speaks true. We agree completely, Your Highness."

I let their voices rise and blend together like a chorus of frightened birds, each one desperate to prove loyalty with words while doing nothing at all. Slowly, I lifted my teacup, sipping with deliberate grace. Then, placing it back on the table with a soft clink, I spoke.

"So..." My voice was silk stretched taut. "You are suggesting I simply let this matter pass?"

Their eyes darted between one another, no one willing to answer. Finally, Lady Nivea forced herself to speak, though her hands shook against her fan. "N-not... not to let it pass, Your Highness. Only... only that such rumors are never meant to be taken seriously. They are... nasty, yes, but harmless—"

I turned my gaze on her, letting the weight of my silence press until she nearly buckled. "Harmless?" I repeated softly, almost tenderly.

Her lips quivered. "...Your Highness—"

"So you are telling me," I said, my tone sharpened now, cutting through the air like a blade, "that I should forget the matter where someone is daring to spread lies about me committing treason against my father, the Emperor?"

The words struck like a thunderclap.

Lady Nivea blanched, her composure cracking. "N-no, Your Highness! That... that is not what I meant—"

I tilted my head, the faintest smile touching my lips. "Then choose your words more carefully. In this garden, words are not just whispers... they are weapons. And some can cost far more than life itself."

The silence returned, thicker than before, pressing against every chest like a heavy stone. I let it linger, savoring the unease that painted their faces pale. Then, slowly, deliberately, I spoke.

"And do not worry..." My voice was velvet laced with steel. "We will find the one who dared to spread such a lie."

My gaze swept the garden before settling—inevitably—on her.

Eleania.

She was trembling, though she fought to hide it. Her fan quivered in her hand, her lips pressed thin as though sealing in a scream. Rage burned in her eyes, raw and poisonous, but beneath it—I saw the flicker of fear.

I let my smile sharpen as I tilted my head ever so slightly. "Because I only wish to remind the one who started this..." My words fell like drops of ice into the silence. "...that the throne already belongs to me."

Gasps rippled across the tables. Several nobles paled, some nearly choking on their tea.

"And no matter what tricks they play," I continued, rising slightly, the sunlight catching the gold in my hair, scarlet eyes gleaming like flame, "no matter what lies they weave... It cannot change anything."

The weight of my voice pressed against them like a storm.

Eleania’s knuckles turned bone-white around her fan. Her breath shuddered, fury etched into every line of her face. But she could not speak. She dared not.

Then I shifted my gaze towards Osric.

With his wolfish grin tugging at his lips. "How about this, princess..."

Every pair of eyes snapped toward him.

"Just as Lady Lily suggested earlier—she asked for a reduction of the tax." He let his words hang, savoring the growing anticipation. "And I... have a way to reduce it. If you allow it."

I tilted my head, feigning curiosity. "And what is that, Osric?"

His smirk widened. "If the traitor who spread this vile rumor steps forward... then we shall reduce the tax to what it was before."

Gasps. Whispers. A wave of murmurs swept through the garden like fire through dry grass. Fans trembled. Hands clutched pearls. Faces grew tight with unease.

I let the silence fall again, slow and crushing, before I spoke.

"I don’t mind," I said, voice smooth as silk. "In fact, I like this idea of yours, Osric." My smile curved, cold and dangerous.

I turned to the nobles, letting my gaze linger on each of them in turn. "You all heard him, didn’t you? If you tell me who dared spread this nasty little rumor... perhaps everything can return to normal."

I drummed my fingers lightly against the table, each tap echoing like a clock ticking down their doom.

The air thickened with fear.

Eyes darted. Faces paled. And then —

"I heard it came from House Moretti, Your Highness," one voice rang out, trembling but desperate.

Immediately, another snapped, "That is a lie! Everyone knows House Moretti is loyal—if anything, I heard it was Lady Cassara’s household who whispered first."

"What?!" Lady Cassara’s face flushed crimson. "Do not dare soil my name! If anyone spread venom, it was Lady Veyra! Her servants practically gossip in the markets like crows!"

Gasps rippled again. Lady Veyra shot up from her seat, voice trembling with indignation. "How dare you! My house has supported the crown for three generations! If anyone cannot hold their tongue, it is your steward—half the court knows it!"

One accusation after another tumbled forth, each more desperate, each sharper than the last.

The garden that once rang with polite laughter and soft chatter now erupted into a battlefield of venom and fear.

And through it all, I simply leaned back in my chair, hands folded neatly in my lap, lips curved in the faintest, most dangerous smile.

Because this was no longer a tea party.

This was my hunt.

A shrill voice suddenly pierced the air.

"How dare you accuse me! Why would I ever spread such vile rumors about the princess?" cried the lady from House Draxler, her hands trembling as she clutched her jeweled fan. Her voice quavered with outrage, but her eyes burned with desperation.

Then she pointed a shaking finger across the table. "It was Lady Eleania—she was the one who whispered those nasty lies into my ears!"

The garden fell into stunned silence.

Ah. There it was. The first direct strike.

A slow, satisfied smile curved on my lips. Caught you, Eleania.

Every head turned sharply in her direction. The weight of dozens of stares pressed down on her like iron chains.

Osric, his tone almost mocking in its politeness. "Lady Eleania..." His smirk deepened. "...do you have any house you would like to accuse in return?"

Her fan slipped slightly in her grip. Her body trembled—part fear, part seething rage. Color drained from her cheeks, leaving her deathly pale.

"I..." her voice cracked, then steadied with visible effort. "Lord Osric, I..."

But the words withered in her throat.

Of course. There was no one left. All the other ladies and lords had already turned their daggers on each other, clawing and shrieking in desperation to save their own skins. Every house had been accused, every family name dragged through the dirt, every noble stripped bare of excuses.

And now, the circle had closed.

Leaving only her.

I leaned back ever so slightly, my scarlet eyes never leaving her trembling figure. Cornered like a rat.

Now let’s see, Eleania... Just what excuse will you dare to make?