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?"
