Chapter 173: Cheesetrap 1

LYSANDER

"So, a visit to Lily of the Valley is in order?" Edelina asked once Bradley had left.

I didn’t answer immediately. Agreeing to the visit in front of them had been deliberate, but I hadn’t yet decided what I wanted to gain from it. For now, I kept my attention on my wine, watching the candlelight catch the deep red liquid as I swirled it around the glass. It climbed the sides before slipping back down, leaving thin streaks that quickly disappeared.

I took my time, letting the silence settle between us. Edelina had never been good at waiting without answers. She liked to stay ahead of everyone else, anticipating their next move before they had a chance to make it. Uncertainty left her with too many possibilities to consider, and I knew better than to relieve her of that discomfort too soon.

"I will be going," I answered at last, lifting my glass to my lips.

Edelina’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth, a piece of roasted venison suspended above her plate. "Tomorrow? Truly?"

"Truly." I took a sip, allowing the wine to linger on my tongue before swallowing. "I miss the stability Lily of the Valley offered. The simplicity. The quiet. There will not be a thought that someone could be trying to poison me at breakfast, no one scheming behind my back while smiling to my face." I lowered my glass and met her gaze, my expression hardening. "I have a feeling the hell I’ve been living through since my uncle propped me up to take the throne might finally give me a moment’s respite while I’m away."

She cleared her throat, a delicate sound that seemed intended to buy her time to compose herself. "We could come with you."

One eyebrow rose. "Is that really what you want?"

"We could present a united front." She set her fork down and folded her hands neatly in her lap, looking every inch the composed royal she so desperately wanted everyone to believe she was. "With everything happening in the kingdom, unity is precisely what we need. A family standing together against the chaos."

A short, sharp laugh escaped me. "Why bother lying about it? We are not a united front, Edelina. You want me out of here, away from the seat you believe was destined for your son. So what is the point of pretending otherwise?"

She tilted her head, and something flickered behind her eyes. It might have passed for sincerity if I hadn’t spent so long learning to distrust everything that came out of her mouth.

"I only believe my husband made the wrong choice." Her voice softened, taking on the careful warmth of someone reaching for an old, cherished memory. "I do not hate you, Lysander. I was a mother to you for a time. Do you remember? Back when your own mother decided she was tired of being a mother and selfishly took her own life. It is so not like me to speak ill of the dead. But... remember?"

The words struck harder than I expected. My jaw tightened, and my fingers curled around the stem of my wineglass until the crystal bit into my skin.

She was provoking me. Of course she was. Edelina had always known where to find the tenderest parts of a person and how to press on them until pain gave way to anger. All she needed was a reaction, something she could twist into whatever shape suited her.

"I cannot blame her," I murmured, and the admission surprised even me. "My father was a monster. She chose herself. Even I would have done the same."

Edelina’s eyebrows lifted. A faint smile touched the corner of her mouth, the satisfaction of someone who had just found an opening she hadn’t expected.

"But you did."

The words settled between us, quiet and deliberate.

But you did kill your own father.

The silence that followed was thick with everything left unsaid. Bonnie sat beside me, her hands folded in her lap, her gaze shifting between Edelina and me as though she were watching a duel and waiting to see who would draw blood first. Johann lounged in his chair, his posture deceptively relaxed, but his eyes remained sharp and calculating despite the fading bruises on his face.

Then Bonnie’s attention settled on Edelina.

The table began to tremble.

At first, it was little more than a faint vibration, enough to make the silverware rattle against the porcelain. Within seconds, the glasses began to chime against one another, the lamps flickered, and the chandelier swayed overhead. Johann straightened slightly, one hand moving instinctively to the edge of the table as if he could steady it.

"Be careful, Mother," he muttered, glancing at Bonnie before turning his attention to me. "His bitch is getting pressed. Her master is being dug at. Who knows what she might do next?"

Bonnie’s jaw tightened at the insult, but she made no move to look away from Edelina. The trembling grew more pronounced, a low, steady vibration that seemed to rise from beneath the floorboards and travel through the legs of the table.

I reached across and covered her hand with mine.

The shaking stopped at once.

The silverware fell silent, the glasses settled, and the chandelier continued to sway for a few moments before gradually coming to rest. I brushed my thumb over Bonnie’s knuckles, keeping my voice low enough that the gesture felt private despite the company around us.

"It’s alright," I murmured. "You don’t have to prove anything to them."

She released a slow breath, and some of the tension left her shoulders. Even so, she kept her eyes on Edelina, her expression guarded, as though she knew better than to assume the moment had passed simply because she had let it go.

I let my hand remain over hers for another moment before drawing it back and turning to my aunt.

My wine sat untouched beside my plate, and whatever appetite I’d had before the conversation began was gone. It was difficult to enjoy a meal when everyone at the table seemed more interested in finding the right place to sink a knife than in what was being served.

"It seems every accusation that leaves your mouth is a confession, Your Majesty," I began, my voice level and almost pleasant.