"Did you take any herbal tea, perhaps? Or a prescribed poison? I hear these concoctions are all the rage these days."

The doctor’s question snapped her back to reality.

She had barely had anything to eat the previous day. Even water hadn’t neared her lips.

Until her dinner by midnight.

And the strange maid that had delivered it... did she have anything to do with it?

Seeing her confused expression, he decided not to press his questions any further.

"Very well. Be sure to take the tea I have prescribed, get well rested and forget about having any children for the next few months. You are quite lucky that your womb has suffered no damage." Then with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, he nodded and left.

And once again, she was alone with him.

The silence was driving her mad. She wanted him to say something to her instead of just sitting there.

"You don’t have to sit there and watch over me."

He shook his head and stood up.

"You are right, for once. I don’t have to sit here and watch over you." His voice was icy. "But I did. Because, I want to know why you thought you could take the life of my child without my consent." In all he said, his voice remained irritatingly calm.

She would have preferred it if he shouted at her.

"It’s so easy for you to blame me for this. But whether you believe me or not, I never harmed my..." She trailed off. "It has to be the meal I ate before midnight... the maid that I didn’t recognise."

"What maid?"

She swallowed hard, searching her blurred memory.

"She had a small round face and a long neck. Her hair was tucked underneath a cap, but I could see a few black strands poking out of it. Her eyes looked brown under the glow of the candle... and she wore the uniform of all the maids."

"At what hour did she serve you?"

"I don’t know. She only told me it was nearly midnight when I inquired about my sister."

"I see."

She turned away and faced the wall, hating the way she wanted to curl up somewhere and cry.

Claire heard his footsteps receding but didn’t turn to look.

Then there was a knock on the door. It seemed that he opened the door because footsteps rushed into the room and Lara stood beside her.

There were tears in the older woman’s eyes. Sad tears.

"Oh, dear. Oh dear."

Claire tried to sit up but couldn’t find the strength.

"I never thought you were serious about it!" Lara said, the tears flowing freely now.

Serious about what?

Then it dawned on her...

She had mentioned getting rid of the baby once... but she hadn’t meant it.

"Look at what you have gone and done! I don’t know if I should slap you across the face or console you."

Claire reached out to take the woman’s hand. Lara’s hand felt bony and cold in hers, almost as if she had been drained with worry.

"I didn’t do-"

The main door slammed so hard the windows rattled. Both of them turned towards the doors.

He’d heard?

A wave of pain rolled through her. But this time, it wasn’t her stomach. It was her heart.

"Oh, Lara you have to believe me. I didn’t do it. I would never..."

"But why were you packing your clothes, then? Even the King saw your packed chest... and that you had left out all the garments he had gifted you."

Oh.

What had she done?

Claire ran a trembling hand through her hair.

"I have to talk to him." She began to say, struggling to sit up.

Her head was swirling but she ignored it.

"You should rest now, dear. Exchanging a few words now would only hurt you."

Lara was right.

But if she didn’t make him believe her, he never would.

But what proof had she? Everything was pointing against her.

"Rest awhile. I will send a tray of food up to you." Lara said and left her alone.

Claire ground her fists into her eyes to stop herself from crying.

She swung down from the bed, arranged herself, wore a light dress and headed towards his study.

Her guard raised a brow but said nothing.

If anything, he was closer, walking almost directly behind her.

Her legs were swaying and her lower back ached terribly.

When she got to the door, she met his guards standing there.

They blocked her path, preventing her from knocking.

"Please let me through. I have to speak with him."

They didn’t bother to glance her way.

After begging proved futile and her legs were weakening, she decided to change her approach.

"If you don’t let me see him, I would cause a terrible scene."

That seemed to catch their attention.

The two guards exchanged glances before parting to let her knock.

"Come in."

She pushed the heavy doors open and entered inside.

The guards closed the door after her and resumed their intimidating positions without.

He was sitting at his desk, writing furiously on a piece of parchment. His hands clutched the quill so tightly that his knuckles were white. She was surprised that the quill hadn’t snapped into two.

"I didn’t do it."

He didn’t look up but his shoulders tensed.

There was another knock on the door.

The doors opened at Yeren’s command and the chief housekeeper stepped into the room.

"Your Grace, Lady Stenly." He sounded like he was speaking through his nose.

Yeren nodded at him.

"What news do you bring?"

The man inched closer to the table.

"All the staff that work here have been questioned, Your Grace. And there is no one that matches the description you gave me. Are you sure of what you saw?"

Then Yeren’s gaze flicked to her.

"I’m not the one that saw her, it was Lady Stenly. You can ask her yourself."

The man with his wiry gray hair and dark brown eyes turned to Claire.

"Pardon, Lady Stenly, but do you care to recount the description you gave?"

She told the man the exact same thing she had told the King.

After hearing all she had to say about the meal, the man shook his head.

"We don’t have such a person working in the kitchens nor as a chambermaid. You must be mistaken, my lady. And all the servants have denied serving you a meal. There isn’t even a tray of food or any sign that a meal was cooked the previous night." Seeing her shocked expression, the man turned to Yeren. "You see, Your Grace, the cooks were having a little party by a bonfire near the time she speaks of. The kitchens were... practically empty save a few scullery maids who do not match her description and deny attending to her in any way."