Chapter 215. Soren
Soren
I knew Maisie. And in the end, that was all that mattered.
She could never have written something so hateful. She didn’t even know how to hate people.
The Queen shook her head and grabbed Maisie’s school books.
Every page she flipped onto had notes at the bottom on how to break the bond. Her most recent classes had started off with class notes and broken off to Philip Gruer’s research on breaking bonds.
We’d all studied him in our first year. His mad thoughts. His methods. It was all scribbled down madly in her books. Exploring the lines of death. Shock therapy. Inducing comatose states to simulate death experiences.
Had she been that eager to end things that she began looking for ways to die?
"She’s been desperate to severe the bond. This much, you can’t deny," the Queen said, her voice sinking deeper than it should’ve.
My vision blurred as the last few weeks came together. Her frenzied manners—no. I shook my head. "I know what you’re doing, and it won’t fucking work--"
She lowered a stack of papers. Bank statements, a trail of withdrawals that would have needed a confirmation from me, but of course, I’d already informed the manager that he needn’t vet transactions from Maisie through me.
What kind of man monitored his wife’s spending?
"All from last night to this morning, while you were rotting in jail," the Queen said. "Clearly, your little bride isn’t just good at pretending. She’s also a very good thief."
I chuckled. "If all Maisie wanted was the money, she didn’t have to steal it. She owns half of everything we do." I licked across my fang. "Where is she? Where have you held her? Why bother trying to talk to this traitor and murderer you have taken such lengths to put in chains moments before you execute him?"
Queen Lysandra’s lips pinched, the first sign of her frustration and she cupped my face. "We both know you had nothing to do with that explosion. You may be a rash, idealistic idiot, but you are not a murderer. The girl and her Exiled mother --"
"Stop fucking saying that!" I snapped, jerking my face out of her grip.
She held on tighter and stroked my cheek. "I want you to see the truth, son. That girl has you brainwashed and bewitched. She has made you her fool."
When I kept staring at her blankly, she let me go with a sigh. "I wanted to spare you from the heartache, because I know how raw and fresh this must all be. But if this is what I need to do to bring you back to your senses, then so be it."
She pulled something else from the pile.
A stack of photos scattered all over the floors.
Maisie stood in an unfamiliar bathroom, in my oversized sweater and a pair of fitted jeans. I remembered the outfit she had worn to her sister’s wedding dress fitting because seeing her choose to wear my clothes had made me unusually giddy the entire day.
In the photo frame, she was staring up with wide, vulnerable eyes at someone. The next frame caught the picture of him rolling up her sleeves. The next had his mouth pressed to her pulse where Quinlan’s mark was. The next, they were kissing and pressed against the door.
My nostrils flared at the image and I glanced away sharply. "That is not Maisie."
It looked like her. But it wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to make compromising photos of her. I felt rationality trying to flee from me, but I tried to hold on to it.
I knew her. She hadn’t mentioned meeting him. So, they must not have met. Or if they did, it must have been in the passing. She didn’t fuck Lyon Park in some public toilet. We would’ve felt it.
I didn’t realize I said the words aloud to myself until she said, "Would you now? You don’t think the blockers could have muted that too?"
Like the devil, she was trying to drop seeds of doubt into my mind, and I vehemently shut down the idea before it could even form--
"You gave this to her, didn’t you?"
The enforcer held up a transparent evidence bag and my head quietened when I saw the bloodied ring in the bag. The ring I had given Maisie. There was so much blood on it, it turned the metal red.
I lunged forward, baring my teeth at her. "What--what have you done with her--"
"The blood is not hers," she said, almost gently, and after a second, she added, "Lyon Park was found dead by the ridge this morning."
She dropped a photo of an almost unrecognizable, broken body and empty brown eyes mapped by a yellow crime scene tapes.
I jerked back, stunned.
"The ring was found on him. As were her finger prints. Her hair. The detectives say he took a piece of her dress when she pushed him off the cliff--"
"Pushed him off the cliff?" I echoed.
Her gaze pierced mine. "A dagger with her fingerprints and his blood was found in the crime scene. He was stabbed a good number of times before the fall. Maisie Adams is the prime suspect in his murder. At least, the general public seems to think so with all of the gathered evidence."
"The general public," I repeated faintly.
She shrugged. "It is all over the news. She is wanted by the Council of Wolves--"
I crawled forward and dropped my forehead to her toes. "Stop this, aunt. Please."
Silence fell over the receiving hall.
"It’s enough now," I whispered, eyes burning with hate and despair. "I’ll do whatever you want me to. Please. Stop. Stop ruining her." My voice cracked. "She hasn’t done anything to deserve any of this. Please."
Revulsion and murder pulsed in my gut as she ran her fingers lovingly through my hair. "I’m afraid this is out of my hands, Soren. Your wife has dug herself into a hole she can never get out of. It might be for the best of us all if she remains gone. It is appalling, after all, for the Crown Prince to be married to such a vile creature, isn’t it?"
The snarl that erupted from me was vicious enough that the guards behind stepped back.
The Queen straightened, nodding at the guards. "Release them and see to it that they are tended to." Her eyes lowered to me, lingering on my neck and the absence of the mark there. "When you are ready to accept the truth of her deceit and assume your duties as heir, you will return to court and marry Tessa, like you should always have. Until then, you are all banished from my court."