Chapter 24 The verdict
The meaning of his words was not lost on Isabella, but she wanted him to elaborate.
“Excuse you?” Isabella narrowed her eyes slightly at him.
Lord Harlan laughed nervously. “Don't take it the wrong way, Isabella.” His hands were raised slightly as though he was conceding.
“Oh,” Isabella slowed. “That's not what I mean?” She said in a rush. I don't understand what you said.”
She knew she needed to tackle this the right way. If she remained on the defensive, the members of the council would think she was guilty.
The members of the Council turned to Harlan, inquisitive, their eyes boring holes into him.
“Do you mind explaining to Ms Thorne what you mean, Lord Harlan?”
Lord Sloane spoke up, urging Lord Harlan up.
Lord Harlan laughed again. The nervous laugh, the one that seemed like he didn't want to do it but was just doing it.
“You all know, Ms Thorne is my relative,” he began, looking around. So you know I'm not saying these things out of ignorance.”
The murmurs increased.
“What are you saying, Lord Harlan? Can you be clear?”
Lord Harlan shrugged.
“The moonlit blood is like a drug. It controls you and makes you do the things you do not or may not want to do.”
Lord Sloane glanced hard at Isabella. “Were you aware of this part of your blood, Ms Thorne?”
“Yes, I am,” Isabella mumbled. “It still does not mean that I did it. Surely, you would not want me to admit to things that I did not do?”
“We all know that the Moonlit blood manifests when emotionally distressed…”
Someone said from the back and left the remainder of his words hanging.
Isabella could feel her face turning red. The person was making reference to the garden incident.
She clenched her knuckles tightly so much that they turned white.
“What are you insinuating?” She asked, her voice cold.
“You've been under a lot of strain in the past few months, Ms Thorne. Surely, that's enough reason to act out of character.” Lord Sloane commented.
Isabella could see what he was doing. He was trying to give her a way out. She could just accept what she'd done and no one would blame her. They would blame the incident on the strain between her and Lucien.
But she could also see what they were doing. If she accepted the claims that she'd done it, if subsequent incidents appeared, they would also lay the blame on her.
“I didn't do it.” She said with her teeth clenched. “I didn't do it.”
Lord Sloane sighed. He'd done his best. He turned to Lucien. “What do you say, Your Majesty?”
Isabella turned to Lucien, her eyes hopeful, a sharp contrast to his cold eyes. He'd barely glanced at her all through the time she spoke, defending herself.
Lucien dropped the piece he was writing and looked up.
“The allegations are concerning…”
Isabella exhaled in relief. This was looking good. Good and hopeful.
“But the evidence present cannot be overlooked.”
His next words deflated her hope like a needle in a balloon.
She couldn't believe her ears. Lucien didn't believe her. He couldn't, not even for the sake of their son and the bond they'd shared.
We cannot overlook the evidence on the ground. The safety of the court and the kingdom is paramount.
The hall erupted into murmurs. Some of the elders present were genuinely shocked that Lucien had not chosen to investigate further.
“This is preposterous!” The words flew out of Isabella's mouth before she could contain them.
“Ms Thorne?” Lord Sloane called her name in a warning voice. “This is the court.”
“And not my bedroom” Isabella helped him complete his words.
There and then, Lucien was the king and she could not speak to him inappropriately.
“I'm sorry,” she mumbled, her eyes down.
Lucien cleared his throat. “Because all the leads and evidence on the ground, point to Ms Thorne, I hereby declare that she is confined to her quarters.”
Isabella's face turned ashen.
“She will be placed strictly under supervision, monitored by guards, no visitors are allowed except those approved by the king.”
The hall was noisy. The ever agile Lord Sloane was too stunned to speak. Even the verdict had taken him unawares.
“My son?” Isabella mumbled, her voice barely heard above the noise, but Lucien heard her.
“Your son, Ms Thorne will be in the care of gis nanny. He is allowed to see you twice a week, for thirty minutes.”
Her knees buckled and she held the table for support.
Lucien was taking away everything that mattered to her.
There were very few things in the world that mattered to her and Elias was top of the list.
She looked at him, willing him to hold her gaze.
“I am not guilty. I'm being framed.” She mumbled, but Lucien had already passed his judgment on her.
“You're putting me under house arrest?” Her voice this time was louder. She wanted to confirm if she had not been hallucinating.
“Only for the time being. For your safety and the safety of everyone around you.”
Understanding dawned on Isabella. This was no different from her being imprisoned. Her freedom was being taken away from her where necessary.
“And if there are times, I want to take a walk, to see the sun?” She let her question hang in the air.
“You have access to the garden close to your quarters and you are allowed to take walks, albeit heavily supervised by heavily armed guards.
She was a threat.
“Does the council agree to these terms?” Lucien's voice boomed all over the hall.
There were scattered voices. Some of these veterans were too stunned to speak.
“Does the council agree to these terms or are there things they would love to clarify or add?”
The smile she'd set in place wavered. He wasn't satisfied with the punishment and wanted to mete out more but he would use the council as cover for what he wanted to do.
This time, the voices were in unison. Some of the elders looked at her in pity.
“Then, that's final.”
She nodded, biting her lips till she could almost taste blood, the smile still in place. She wanted to cry, wanted to scream, but she was not going to do it here.
The doors opened and four huge men stepped into the hall.
Her arrest had just been effected. They would lead her back to her quarters.
She stepped out of the centre that had been carved for her.
“Ms Thorne?” Lord Sloane called her attention.
She turned to look at him, her hand holding her dress a little too tightly.
“I would advise that you do not play smart with these men. They've been trained for situations like this and have been given strict instructions to end the lives of those who are considered traitors in the kingdom.”
She was a traitor now.
She nodded as she walked towards the entrance.
Lucien was walking a few feet from her, in the other aisle. She could feel his eyes on her body, but she looked ahead. Looked forward.
With every step she took, her legs weakened. She walked, determined not to crumble in front of the people who wanted her gone by all means.
She would crumble, she would cry, but she was not going to do it in their presence.
The guard opened the door, leading her and her new guards out and shutting the door behind her.
The moment the door clicked, her knees wobbled but she was quickly caught by one of the guards walking close to her.
“Thank you,” she mumbled as she tried to steady herself.
One tear dropped as she took the first step. Then another.
Very soon, the tears were coursing through her cheeks like a dam that had just been broken.
She couldn't believe this was what her life was going to look like now.
She would be framed and punished for things she hadn't done and hadn't been caught doing all because someone was trying to prove a point.
“I should have left when I had the chance to.” She mumbled.
The guards stopped. “Saying something, Ms Thorne?”
She shook her head, wiping the tears off her face and resumed walking.
She'd wanted to stay for Elias and now, she couldn't even see him without eyes and ears listening to what she was doing with her own son.
And worse, they had a time frame. How could she have been given thirty minutes to see her son, twice in a week?
And Lucien? Her smile was bitter.
He could have just had her arrested. At least, she knew she was in jail. A cell meant for hardened criminals.
“Ms Thorne,” Mira was at the entrance of her quarters, her face wet. She'd evidently been crying.
“I'm so sorry,” She whispered, inching closer and taking Isabella in her arms. “You're innocent,” She whispered.
Isabella smiled through the tears. At least someone knew she was innocent.