Chapter 108: The Last Lie
Martha walked into the crown prince’s private study with her heart in her throat. Fear made it hard to breathe and her legs heavy. Her uncle pulling her into the study was the only reason she could move.
He had told her—while she was standing in front of the west wing, praying that the Queen would answer her—that the crown prince was seeking her. Her uncle looked wretched. He had asked her the night before, and she had admitted to not seeing Rose leave but still insisted she had nothing to do with the kidnapping.
He had seemed relieved by this and had urged her to tell the truth. That the crown prince could be forgiven as long as she could prove this would never happen again. Martha had simply nodded, not thinking much about it. At the time she had thought the Queen would save her.
Something told her she couldn’t hold on to that lie for much longer. The Queen had clearly forsaken her, and if she told another lie to the crown prince, she might end up being charged with high treason. She was quite aware the only reason she was being granted an audience to explain herself—instead of being tossed into the dungeons—was because of her uncle.
Martha rubbed her ears; he had pulled at them last night and again that morning when he came to tell her what the crown prince said. Her uncle had scolded her, asking why she would do something like that while urging her to tell the truth.
This was all Rose’s fault. She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her. None of this would have happened. The Queen wouldn’t have avoided her and certainly wouldn’t have angered the crown prince if it weren’t for Rose.
Henry pushed his niece to the ground as they walked in, dropping to the ground himself. He didn’t have excuses—there was more than enough reason for the crown prince to punish her however he wanted. She had stood in this same room and lied to him numerous times about Rose sneaking out of the castle.
"Henry," Caius called coldly.
"Your Highness, have mercy. My niece has admitted to lying about seeing Rose sneak out of the room. That never happened—"
"Henry," Caius called with a sigh. "You’re starting to grate on my nerves with your incessant meddling."