The Debt Of Fate-Chapter 315: You Liar

That night, Ernest did not sleep.

He sat alone in his study, the lamp burning low beside him. The palace letter lay folded on the table, untouched since Lina had left. Her words echoed clearly in his mind—not spoken in desperation, but in logic.

Unless she was a fool, she would never expose the palace’s original findings if she were truly guilty.

Dorothy had everything to lose by sending that message. Her status as the king’s mistress. Even her life. No schemer would take such a risk unless she was certain of her innocence.

Ernest exhaled slowly.

He believed her.

And more than that, he understood the situation clearly now.

The queen.

Elizabeth had motive. She had authority. She had access to the kitchen, the servants, the garden—everything. If she wanted to harm Anastasia and place the blame on someone else, Dorothy was the easiest choice.

But understanding the truth did not mean he could find evidence.

Even if evidence existed, it would vanish before it reached daylight. Ernest was not naïve enough to think justice worked the same way for those who wore crowns.

He needed pressure.

Chaos.

And to succefuly do that he needs the king to be unwilling to protect the queen.

Ernest looked at the box on his table. He had the perfect evidence to use against her.

Ernest rose from his chair and walked to the window. Beyond the walls, the city lay quiet. The nobles were already whispering. They had seen Anastasia collapse. They had seen physicians rush in. Rumors did not need truth to growonly doubt.

All he had to do was turn the doubt in the right direction. It was a known fact that the two sisters did not get along. To get people to speculate the Queen’s involvement was easy.

Ernest’s lips curved slightly, but there was no warmth in it.

He had men loyal to him. Old connections from his time overseeing the city’s security. Servants who listened. Guards who remembered favors. Nobles who owed him debts.

One whisper would become ten.

Ten would become a storm.

Ernest turned back toward the inner chamber, where Anastasia slept peacefully at last. Her life—and their children’s—had nearly been taken within those palace walls.

He had always wanted to get back at Elizabeth for all the harm she had cause in the past, while he was yet to make a move against her, she dared to act.

"I will return the favor," Ernest swore.

.....

Days passed quickly as though nothing had happened. Then news arrived late at night on the twelve days of the king’s return.

A messenger rode through the palace gates at full speed, his horse lathered with sweat, his clothes dust-stained from the long journey. By the time he was brought before the king, the lamps had already been lit across the halls.

"The sixth region has fallen back under royal control," the messenger announced, kneeling. "The third prince’s rebellion has been defeated. General Robert has captured him alive."

For a moment, King Edward said nothing.

Then he laughed.

It was loud, unrestrained, filled with relief.

"Alive?" he asked again.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Edward rose from his seat, the weight that had pressed on him for months finally lifting. The rebellion had dragged on far too long. With the third prince captured, the big threat to his rule was crushed.

"Well done," he said, his mood soaring. "Reward the messenger. Double rations for the guards tonight."

The hall buzzed with renewed energy. Servants moved quickly. Wine was brought out. The king drank more than usual, cup after cup, his laughter echoing through the chamber

Victory tasted sweet.

"Your majesty’s reign would be long and peaceful," Walter was also glad to hear the news.

"Yes, has there been news of Aureline?" Edward asked after a while. He had instructed that he only wants to hear of his death.

"No yet, your majesty but all roots from the mountain are guarded. He would either get killed by a wild beat or fall into our hand," Walter replied.

Edward was not pleased with the news, "send words back, I want that traitor captured alive," he changed his mind about killing Aureline on sight. It would be better to kill those two publicly as a warning to others.

"Yes, your majesty," Walter bowed

"Now, drink with me, let’s Merry for the victory God has granted me," he said with a loud voice.

As the night deepened, Edward dismissed the others, his steps unsteady but his mind light. His joy demanded release, but there was a problem.

Dorothy.

She was under punishment. Confined. Forbidden from receiving him openly. If he visited her now, it would only draw attention and undo the very decision he had made to protect her.

Edward frowned slightly, irritation creeping into his drunken thoughts.

In the end, there was only one place he could go without question.

The queen’s chambers. Anyways he could just have legitimate son’s to keep the peace within the palace.

By the time he arrived, Elizabeth was already preparing to retire. She froze when the doors opened and the king stepped inside, his cheeks flushed, his eyes bright with drink and triumph.

"Your Majesty?" she asked carefully.

Edward laughed again and waved a hand. "Good news," he said. " The third prince is captured."

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. "That is... wonderful news."

"It is," Edward agreed, moving closer. "A victory worth celebrating."

"Yes, you majesty reign would be song through many generations," Elizabeth smiled. It was the first time the king was looking at her like a man look at a woman.

The servants quietly withdrew, closing the doors behind them. The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the crackling of the lamps.

For a brief moment, Elizabeth simply stood there.

They had been married for more than half a year, yet this was the first time the king had come to her chambers with such intent. Not out of duty. Not for appearances.

Although she could tell he was a bit drunk, he could have chosen among the palace maid to relieve himself but he had come to her.

Her heart beat faster.

So this is how it happens, she thought.

Relief washed over her, warm and almost dizzying. Dorothy was confined. The palace was quiet. And tonight, the king was hers—openly, without excuse.

Edward reached for her, his movements unsteady but familiar. His hand rested at her waist, pulling her closer, his breath warm against her cheek.

"You are my queen," he said, his voice low, softened by wine and victory. "I have neglected you."

Elizabeth lowered her gaze, allowing herself a small, gentle smile. "I understand you majesty had been busy," she was not stupid to complain in this moment.

At last.

She had waited. Endured whispers. Watched another woman hold the king’s favor while she wore the crown alone. Tonight felt like a turning point—one she had long believed would come if she was patient enough.

She leaned into him, accepting what was finally being given.

As the lamps dimmed and the palace slept, Elizabeth allowed herself hope.

She hopes that she would be lucky enough to keep the king’s favour. If not forever at least until she got pregnant and bore a heir.

...

The next morning when Elizabeth woke up the king was already gone. Her entire body aches.

The king in his truck state was not gentle at all, but Elizabeth did not mind, she thought of Anastasia, how she had left the palace without spending a night with the king.

"I will always be better than you," she whispered. Then she touched her stomach with hope. The king’s favour was good but what matters most was if she got pregnant.

Hearing movement from inside, a maid step inside. After cleaning up, she had her breakfast, with no one to share the news with, she decided to visit Dorothy’s chamber.

If she could make her uncomfortable for one day then it would be worth it.

...

Dorothy learned the news before noon.

It came through whispers.

The king had spent the night in the queen’s chambers.

Dorothy sat very still when she heard it, her fingers tightening slowly around the edge of the table. For a moment, she felt as though the air had been knocked out of her chest.

"No, this are just idle gossip," she refused to believe it. But before she could believe it footsteps sounded at the entrance of her courtyard.

Queen Elizabeth arrived not long after.

She came openly, dressed in light colors, her expression calm and composed. Two maids followed behind her, heads lowered. It was a visit that carried purpose.

Dorothy rose at once and bowed, her movements slow and proper. Although what she really wants to do was ask her to leave.

"Your Majesty," she said evenly.

Elizabeth studied her for a moment, then smiled faintly.

"I came to see how you are settling into your punishment," the queen said gently. "It must be difficult, being confined like this."

Dorothy lowered her eyes. "I am grateful for His Majesty’s mercy." she refused to appear week before Elizabeth.

Elizabeth’s smile deepened, just slightly.

"I thought you should know," she continued, her tone casual, almost kind, "that His Majesty was in good spirits last night. The victory in the sixth region lifted his mood greatly."

Dorothy said nothing, but all the doubts about the whispers she heard was melting away.

"He stayed in my chambers," Elizabeth added softly. "It has been some time since we last spoke properly. As husband and wife."

The words landed cleanly. Precisely where they were meant to.

Dorothy’s nails pressed into her palm, her face could not remain calm but she forced a smile.

"I am glad the king is pleased."

Elizabeth watched her closely, seeing the cracks, she felt satisfied.

"You should rest well," the queen said. "These months will pass quickly." she laughed.

With that, she turned and left, her footsteps unhurried, her presence lingering long after she was gone.

The moment Elizabeth stepped beyond the courtyard gates, Dorothy snapped.

A teacup flew across the courtyard and shattered against the wall.

"Liar!" Dorothy shouted, her voice shaking. "You liar!"

Another object followed. Then another.

She paced wildly, her breath uneven, anger and hurt twisting together in her chest.

He promised me.

The memory burned sharply in her mind

Edward’s words, spoken in the quiet of her chambers, his voice certain.

"You are the only one I love."

Dorothy laughed bitterly.

Only one?

Then why was he in her bed?

He promised her the crown once things settled down but now he was on another woman’s bed.

And Ernest.

Her gaze turned cold.

Why had he not acted yet?

She had sent Lina. She had revealed the truth of the investigation. Ernest was not a fool—he knew the palace’s excuse was false. He knew the queen had the power and the motive.

So why was Elizabeth still standing so proudly?

Why had nothing happened?

Dorothy sank onto the stone bench, her hands trembling.

She pressed her lips together, forcing herself to breathe.

’was he too scared to act?’ she wonder but then shook her head. Ernest had stood against the king for Anastasia, he would not be scared of her.

’maybe he is just planning carefully," she convinced herself.

Dorothy lifted her eyes toward the palace walls, her anger slowly settling into something sharper.