News had begun to spread, that is, in regards to the new Princess and her father, the King. There were many that scoffed at the rumors.

“She’s probably not biologically his. It’s all just a ruse. You know the man can’t have kids, or he’d likely have had ten by now with the number of women he's slept with.”

But there remained believers, despite the remarks of clear disbelief and no proof.

“That’s not true! The guard I talked to said she looks a lot like him, so it can’t just be a coincidence!”

“Right, right. They went out and found a kid that looked like him and called it good! The Princess is just there to fill in until a new heir is found or made.”

But as their words were filling the streets, several of the naysayers were put to silence when they noticed the young Princess, surrounded by the highest-ranking guards, wandering around and taking in the city sights.

It was hard for them to make the same claims in light of her air of innocence and familiar facial features. Even the red hair was the exact shade of the King’s.

“Is that her?”

“It must be!”

“She does look an awful lot like the King.”

“And that woman too. Must be her mother.”

As people rushed about on business, word spread quickly that the little Princess might very well be the legitimate heir, by blood.

A woman was sharing the news, that she’d seen a guard wearing a bunny-ear headband and a young girl resembling the King. Others gathered around, eager to hear of it, when one of them noticed a lady walking. They smacked the shoulder of the person next to them until the whole table saw what the first had caught sight of.

In a voice that carried on the breeze, one of them voiced a question they’d all been wondering.

“Doesn’t that mean that instead of the King, it’s the Queen that is barren and unable to produce children?”

They were so engrossed in the implications that had, they didn’t notice the deep scowl that appeared on the face of the lady passing by, having heard every word they uttered.

Queen Ariana, having gone out into the city to rid herself of the now, in her opinion, infected palace, was subjected to stares and whispers. She felt a surge of anger roll through her body. It was supposed to have been a nice day. The King, having returned, had Ariana on his bed schedule next. Without needing to worry about other pesky women, she was meant to be relishing in the glory of being at the top of everything, once again. When she would finally get pregnant, those other women would have to leave the palace and her alone.

As such, that was not how the day earlier had gone. Not only had a new woman come into the palace, this time at Owen’s own request, there was a tiny thing standing next to her that was claiming to be not just a Princess, but the Princess. It infuriated Ariana to no end, all the past night, so much that she hadn’t slept well for the first time in years.

So, she’d gone to seek advice from her parents. But it wasn’t like she could escape the murmurs saying she was useless in bringing an heir to the kingdom, and whispers that she was evil in how she treated those beneath her station.

But to Ariana, they were beneath her. What reason did she have to treat them any different? Were they to become the queen? An empress? It made her want to laugh when those thoughts filled her mind. A common woman becomes an empress? What a ridiculous notion.

Her parents arrived at the restaurant they owned, arm in arm, looking every bit as perfect as always. It wasn’t just their reputation, it was how they were raised, that is, more strictly than the royal family. Everyone could always spot them due to their posture. There were many quiet speculations that the reason they had fought so hard for their daughter to obtain the title of Queen was due to their upbringing.

What those outside of the family manor didn’t know was that it was all just a massive façade. Their appearances outside the manor were nothing like the sides they showed within it.

Despite the pleasant looks on their faces as they walked between the patrons of the restaurant, now as a familial trio, there was rage boiling inside the three of them. When they made it to the secure room they’d made just for this occasion, sour expressions and furrowed brows made them all appear just as related as before, when they were walking with an air of dignity.

Ariana’s mother, who had once tried to become queen herself, put a hand atop her daughter’s curled fist.

“Don’t worry. If nobody can prove she’s the King’s legitimate bastard child, then there is no need to worry.”

“And if she is?” Ariana snapped back without remorse.

It was the question filling their minds. It was the fear that pulled them toward an uncertain future. But these were the Velcone family. Not to be deterred or forced to turn back and regret. They pushed forward, no matter the cost, be it people or their own humanity that slipped away, bit by bit.

“Then I have a number of ideas.”

“Right,” Ariana sat taller, feeling better already. “Who says she’ll even make it a year in the palace… or even two months?”

“We have to act fast, before anything can be determined true or false. Are you certain we cannot do anything sooner?”

“Of course not!” Ariana sneered at those who raised her. It was at times like this that she wasn’t sure if they were bright at all. It was a miracle they hadn’t been found out yet, given all the shady involvements they had. “Do you want suspicion to land all on me if the child mysteriously dies right at the start of her stay?! The plan can’t happen immediately. I have to feign likeness and familiarity before she goes.” As Ariana said those words, all she could think of was the inconvenience of being nice to a child she already hated for existence alone. “Don’t worry, it will all be for the tears at the funeral. So many annoying tears. Sniffles too. Maybe I'll throw in a wail?”

Her parents nodded, agreeing with her, finding it more than satisfactory that their beloved child knew how to keep her title. They were convinced nothing would be wrong. They laughed.

“Then there is really nothing to worry about.”

“Try to have more faith in your only daughter, won’t you?”

“Haha. Of course.”

They ate their meal, satisfied by the taste of what they believed was to come for the two intruders in the palace.

That is, expulsion, either in death, or living as traitors.

At the same time, Owen was in his office, having finally finished the most important bits of his job, leaving just him and his aide Michael in the room. As he had placed the duty of protecting and ensuring the truthful outcome of the paternity test to the Captain, a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He’d already been informed of the mixed results of bringing Delilah to the palace, along with his claim that she was his daughter. There were some who believed, a few a bit too naively, but others remained with skepticism or a keen eye to see that there was more to the story than just the production of an heir to the throne. The last of them simply disregarded the news, not bothering to put much thought into it.

Alas, as Michael brought up the next information, Owen felt a whole new surge of worries.

Owen stared at him, unsure how to respond to the words he’d just heard, or at least, the words he thought he just heard.

“Excuse me?”

Michael shrugged, unperturbed.

“I’m just wondering aloud, as a friend… is it really necessary to put all those ladies through this mess now? You have a daughter now. You have an heir.”

Of course, that would be the case, thought Owen, if I was the one who’d put all of that into motion.

But he wasn’t.

He’d been pressured by everyone else, so it wasn’t easy to just push it all away now without a second thought. There were too many involved from the start. Besides, there was one particular person, and their family, that would be livid.

Heaving out a sigh, Owen put his head on his hand and replied. “It should stay the same, though, if there are any ladies who wish to not be a part of it, grant their wish. You know Ariana will throw a fit if I stopped it altogether.”

Michael reluctantly nodded in agreement.

“But… I believe I’ve realized something rather important.”

“What is it?”

“You have no intention of seriously bedding any of them now, am I right?”

Owen paused in the middle of straightening out a stack of papers. He brushed the back of his knuckle across the top corner before setting them down and leaning back into his chair comfortably.

“Why do you say that?”

It was something Michael had noticed right away. The look in Owen’s eyes when he saw Emeria. Time hadn’t faded whatever it was that lay between them. Time hadn’t let them move on.

Michael smiled, in the same manner Jizelle had upon seeing Emeria that first time. There was something contagious about that new look in the King’s eyes. Something that lifted spirits.