CHAPTER 49: CHAPTER FORTY NINE

The servant holding the bowl lowered it slightly, tilting it so the Crown Princess could clearly see the dark, damning evidence.

"Your Highness," Marissa spoke, her voice clear and cold, cutting through the horrified silence. "Her hands prove it. She is the one."

The Princess nodded once, her face a mask of cold displeasure. The entire, complicated situation had been reduced to this simple, ugly fact.

Before Beatrice or the Princess could even speak, Ashlyn moved. She stormed forward, her face was an expression of righteous, betrayed fury. She marched right up to the cowering, sobbing maid.

SLAP!

The sound of Ashlyn’s hand connecting with Nora’s cheek was sharp and brutal, echoing across the terrace. It was a vicious blow, fueled by Ashlyn’s own panic and fury at her plan being exposed.

"You wretched girl!" Ashlyn shrieked, playing the part of the wronged, innocent partner perfectly. "Why did you destroy the gift? Who ordered you to do this?"

Nora, holding her stinging, red-streaked face, looked up in terror. Her eyes, wide and wild, darted from Ashlyn’s furious expression to Marissa’s cold, unreadable one. She was trapped. Her accomplice had just betrayed her with a slap. Her mind scrambled, and she latched onto the only other defense she had been given—the lie they had prepared in case the plan went wrong.

"No one ordered me!" she cried, her voice high and thin with terror. She turned, crawling on her knees towards Marissa. "It was you, Your Grace! You have done so many evil deeds! I just... I just wanted you to have a taste of the same suffering! I just wanted everyone to see how much bad luck you bring!"

Beatrice, who had been pale with shock, now flushed a deep, angry red. The case was solved. "She has already confessed!" she thundered. "She dared to attack the Grand Duchess and insult the Crown Princess! Why isn’t she arrested yet? Guards!"

Two large household guards, who had been standing at the edge of the garden, marched forward. They seized the sobbing maid by her arms, hauling her to her feet.

"No, please!" Nora shrieked, her body going limp with terror. "Please have mercy on me! Mercy!"

Her pleas were useless. The guards began to drag her away, her feet scraping on the marble, her cries echoing across the perfect, sunlit garden until she was pulled through the house and her voice was gone.

A heavy, ugly silence settled back over the table. The immediate problem was gone, but the larger one remained: the party was a disaster, and the royal gift was a ruined, muddy heap of feathers.

Marissa subtly signaled to Lily, who was standing at a corner. A small, almost imperceptible nod. Lily nodded back and, while all eyes were on the departing guards, she slipped away unnoticed.

Ashlyn stepped back to her seat, her hand still trembling slightly from the slap. She had salvaged the situation, but only just. Now, she had to control the clean-up. She turned to Beatrice, her face a mask of grave, shared responsibility.

"Grandmother," she said, her voice low and serious. "I helped my sister prepare this gift. And now it has gone so terribly wrong. I feel I share the blame with her." She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself. "After the luncheon is over, please permit me to be the one to question the culprit. I must find out the full truth, to give a proper explanation to the Thompson family, and to the Royal Family."

Beatrice looked at her, her expression softening with approval. Ashlyn was acting like a true, responsible lady of the house. She nodded. "That is a good, dutiful thought, Ashlyn. You have my permission."

"The culprit was caught," the Crown Princess said, her voice as cold and flat as a sheet of ice. The polite, gracious guest was gone. This was the future queen, and she had been insulted. "But my mood is ruined."

She stood up from her seat, a clear, final gesture of dismissal. "What a deep, deep disappointment today has been."

Her ladies-in-waiting immediately shot to their feet, gathering their shawls, their faces as cold as their mistress’s. This was a social catastrophe. For the Crown Princess to leave in anger was a public, undeniable disgrace that would be the talk of the capital for months. Beatrice looked as if she might faint.

Just as the Princess was about to walk past the table, Marissa’s voice stopped her.

"Your Highness, please, do not be angry," she said. Her voice was calm and steady. "Give me one more chance to make this right." She gestured towards the large fountain at the far end of the garden. "Come with me. Please."

The Princess looked at Marissa, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. What game was this? But there was something in the Grand Duchess’s eyes, not desperation, but a strange, quiet confidence that made her pause.

"All right," she said, her voice clipped. "Let us go and see this final act."

The entire party, in a tense, silent procession, followed Marissa. They walked along the gravel path, past the rosebushes, and to the large, ornate marble fountain where water danced in the sunlight.

And they all stopped, frozen in disbelief.

Beatrice gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "Oh my!"

There, held by Lily and another maid, was the real gift. It was another feathered cloak. But this one was perfect. It was a pristine, magnificent cascade of iridescent white feathers, so flawless and bright it seemed to shine in the sun, a light, beautiful, almost magical object.

Ashlyn stared, her blood running cold. Her mouth went dry. "Why is there another one?" she thought, her mind a blank, white-hot void of panic. "I saw the chest. I made the key. I destroyed the cloak myself. How is this possible?"

One of the Princess’s ladies-in-waiting, the same one who had identified the first cloak, stepped forward, her face a mask of pure, stunned awe. "One feathered cloak is a treasure of a lifetime," she breathed. "But two? I... I didn’t even think two of this quality existed in the world."

Marissa smiled, a true, small, triumphant smile. She turned to the Princess.

"Your Highness," she said, her voice clear and bright. "This gift symbolizes the deep respect of the Dowager and the Grand Duke. I knew it was too important to leave to chance." She gave Ashlyn a quick, triumphant look, a silent checkmate. "I feared there might be... foul play. So I had a fake one made, a simple, decoy cloak, and placed it in the chest."

The ruined cloak. The one Ashlyn had so carefully and viciously destroyed, believing it was the real thing, was a fake. A trap.

"I hid this, the real gift, in a private chapel," Marissa continued, her voice resonating with a wisdom that captivated her audience. "Since the Royal Family is so devotedly religious, I had the priest bless it, to keep it safe, and to offer it to you not just as a gift, but as a blessing. I hope it is to your liking, Your Highness."

The Crown Princess was speechless. She was looking at Marissa with a new, profound, and deeply impressed expression. She walked forward, her anger completely gone, replaced by a look of genuine wonder. She reached out and touched the cloak, her fingers sinking into the impossibly soft feathers. She was truly, deeply pleased.

"Grand Duchess," the Princess said, turning to Marissa, a warm, genuine smile now on her face. "You are so wise. And so clever." She laughed, a sound of pure delight. "You have saved this day, and you have given me a wonderful story to tell. I will grant you a reward. Anything you ask."

Marissa curtsied low. "Your Highness’s happiness is my only reward. Thank you."

Beatrice, standing nearby, felt her heart swell with a joy and a pride so intense it almost made her dizzy. Her family’s honor was saved.

Only Ashlyn stood apart, her hands clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. She forced a smile onto her face, a brittle, cracking mask to hide the silent, screaming rage within.

"So," she thought, her mind already racing, calculating, " you anticipated everything. You pulled me in, you made me your accomplice, and you played me for a fool. You won this round, dear sister. But I have another move up mysleeve. A move you will never see coming. Let’s see how you get out of this one."