Betrayed

"Sienna Ysabel Valerya, former Queen of Eyeris, daughter of the traitor to the crown, Queen Ercel Martinee Valerya, you are sentenced to pay for your mother's crimes. As such, the council finds the former Queen no longer suitable for the throne. The people's voice has been heard, and Sienna Ysabel Valerya, from this day forward, shall be stripped of her title and exiled from the Kingdom of Eyeris. A death penalty awaits if you are seen within and beyond the castle grounds."

The sound of the gavel pounded in Ysabel's ears. Her hands were trembling but not because she was afraid of the verdict read to her just now.

Neither did she care about everything else they had said. But she was trembling with fury. A wave of deep, seething anger boiled from the depths of her soul.

It was an incurable kind of anger—one that she was suppressing at the moment and trying not to cause a scene in front of the council.

The person on whom Ysabel wanted to pour her anger was sitting in the center of the courtroom.

His eccentric blue eyes pierced right through Ysabel's golden ones. Against the late morning light from the glass windows, his immaculate blonde locks held the crown in place.

Burning rage and the sorrow from losing her mother only moments ago clashed within Ysabel's tiny chest.

No one inside the courtroom understood what she was going through at the moment.

Ysabel watched her mother kill herself, and the royal guards dragged her away like she was some rag doll and not the former monarch to whom they bowed and promised loyalty to.

There was no burial held for the old Queen. From what Ysabel had gathered with the silent whispers that rang loudly inside the castle, her body was thrown into the fire.

Ysabel wasn't even given a chance to say a proper goodbye nor mourn her loss. She was immediately summoned to the courtroom.

Standing before the newly elected but yet to be officially crowned King, Ysabel's anger spiked.

By birthright, Ysabel was the next in line to the throne. If something happened to her, her stepbrother, Gwendolyn, would reign in her stead.

Gwendolyn and Ysabel had never seen each other eye to eye. While they were born in the same year, Ysabel came first.

Gwendolyn's mother was one of the King's concubines.

A child born from the King's women holds only a particular percentage claim to the throne.

But the difference lay in the King's heart. He loved Gwendolyn's mother, but her social status prohibited the King from marrying her.

In the royal bloodline, marrying for love was a rare phenomenon.

Ysabel was hoping she was the one to challenge such tradition. But in light of the recent events that broke her heart, it was no longer possible.

The betrayal from her mother hurt more than the rest of the things Ysabel was suffering now.

She wished to have had the chance to ask for an explanation of her actions. But she left Ysabel to face the consequences on her own.

Ysabel wanted to cry. But seeing the ghost of a smirk on Gwendolyn's face broke through her misery.

The thirst for vengeance reigned supreme over every other emotion clashing within Ysabel.

"Any last words," Genwdolyn taunted. There was no other audience but him and the council of the twelve, with Justicar Reynold present in the courtroom. "Sister?"

Calling her sister came with a sneer. His mocking gaze told Ysabel things she didn't even need to ask.

He knew everything behind her mother's death, and he enjoyed seeing Ysabel suffer for not knowing.

The only uncertainty Ysabel had was whether he had anything to do with it or not.

Gwendolyn had always been jealous of Ysabel despite their father showering Gwendolyn with more devotion.

Ysabel was a legitimate heir, and he was not.

But was he willing to do anything to steal the crown from Ysabel?

There were too many questions running in Ysabel's mind. Questions which she knew she would never find answers to unless she proved her mother's innocence.

Fighting to keep her emotions to herself, Ysabel lifted her chin, staring at Gwendolyn defiantly.

She will never bow to him.

If he was a rightful king, she might. But Ysabel grew up with him. She could already feel her people's agony once he sat on the throne.

Clenching her skirt as tight as she could, Ysabel held back the words she wanted to spit at her stepbrother.

Instead, she made sure to level her voice and restraint the rage battling for release.

"Justice always prevails," Ysabel said with conviction.

Gwendolyn clapped his hands thrice, chuckling before he gestured for the royal guards to take Ysabel away.

Hearing their footsteps, Ysabel turned to the Justicar.

Glimpses of her childhood when the Justicar was but a young scholar visiting Eyeris flashed in her mind.

Ysabel was ten while he was seventeen when their paths crossed. The Justicar saw her grow up and knew her well enough to attest that the accusations against her mother could be false.

But what could a lone man do against the crown? The Justicar was bound to his oath just as much as she was to the laws that came with her royal title.

Yet the look on the Justicar's eyes were solemn. Ysabel knew he wished her well. If he had the power to change things without endangering his life, Justicar Reynold might have lightened her sentence.

"What are you waiting for?" Gwendolyn broke the silence.

Cold hands gripped Ysabel's arms. She didn't protest but glanced at Gwendolyn for one last time.

"Mark my words," Ysabel uttered. "If you had anything to do with my mother's death, I won't sit still. Let the council be a witness to this promise: I will make every single person involved in this scheme," Ysabel paused, wanting the last word she spoke in the courtroom to echo and resonate with each of them.

"Pay."

Ysabel let her eyes wander over the council. Some of those men were sworn allies to her father. A few of them had dined with Ysabel and her mother.

But each of them had their own greeds to feed.

"Get her out of our sight!" Gwendolyn shouted, the veins in his neck visible due to his vocal distress. "Now!"

Doing a mock curtsy, Ysabel came with the royal guards willingly. They dragged her out of the courtroom roughly the same way they had handled her mother.

When the doors of the courtroom eerily shut close, Ysabel lowered her head. She imagined the walk of shame that she read in the law book.

It was the second severest punishment following exile.

The castle servers murmured as the preparations for the evening continued. Rumors about her mother's death and Ysabel's dethronement were buzzing, but the council would make no formal announcement until tomorrow.

They agreed to put it off in honor of the late King, and the party must go on. The monarchs from the other kingdoms had arrived. Their carriages were one by one welcomed at the gates.

Tears brimmed in Ysabel's eyes. The emotions she'd been holding off finally found their release.

Ysabel kept her head down, her raging emotions making it difficult for her to suppress them.

Her desperate cries went on until the royal guards came to a stop.

When Ysabel lifted her head, they stood outside her former bed chamber. The door handle remained broken, but two other royal guards stood by the door.

"You have five minutes to pack the items you want to bring," one of the royal guards announced.

With that, they released Ysabel and opened the door of her bed chamber.

Reluctantly stepping inside, Ysabel heard the door shut behind her. Her dress was stained with her mother's blood.

Falling to her knees, Ysabel covered her face with her hands. Her heart felt too heavy, and she no longer had the strength to restrain the aching pain inside her chest.

"Why?" Ysabel whispered. "Why did you do that, mother?"

All the events that led to where she was now slammed into her. The former Queen felt so vulnerable and helpless.

"Why?" Ysabel repeated like a mantra, madly pounding her chest with a fist.