The rejected crown (book 1)

Unveiling truth

Giovanna

Once the heavy door of her chambers thudded shut, Giovanna felt a chilling calm settle over her. This was not fear—she refused to feel fear. If Richard wanted her weakened and broken, he would be sorely disappointed. Instead, she surveyed her confinement with icy determination. She was no victim. She was no frightened girl. She was a ruler—and rulers do not tremble, not even in chains.

The grand hall was packed with spectators, courtiers, and guards. The air was thick with the weight of expectation as they watched Princess Giovanna, chained but defiant, stand before her uncle Richard, who sat on an elevated throne, eyes gleaming with anticipation. The court was silent, all ears attuned to every word.

Richard's voice boomed, echoing through the hall, "Princess Giovanna, you stand accused of treason, conspiring with practitioners of dark magic, and undermining the kingdom's laws. Have you anything to say in your defense before we allow the people to decide your fate?"

Giovanna raised her chin, her eyes blazing as she met his gaze, unflinching. "This is not a trial. This is a farce," she spat, her voice sharp as a blade. "I stand here not because I broke any law but because you fear me, Uncle. You fear that I am strong enough to see through your lies, to protect this kingdom from the tyranny you hide behind the mask of 'law and order.' You fear that I am the true heir, and that, as a woman, I might be even more powerful than you."

The crowd murmured, but Richard's expression remained placid, his gaze cold. "You twist the truth, niece. You speak of strength, but what you call 'strength' is nothing but recklessness. A leader who dabbles with dark magic, who betrays her own family, who coddles dangerous forces—such a ruler brings ruin, not strength."

Giovanna's lips curled into a mocking smile. "You dare accuse me of recklessness when it was you who incited the crowd to murder an innocent woman—mary bullen?—under the guise of 'justice'? It was your fear-mongering that led to her death, your words that turned common folk into an angry mob. This trial isn't about my loyalty to the people; it's about your fear of losing control."

Richard's face tightened, but he recovered quickly, a practiced smile spreading across his lips. "You believe yourself so righteous, Giovanna. But the people deserve to know who you really are. You speak of justice, yet you allowed harm to come to a child—your own blood—to hide your sins." He gestured, and the doors at the back of the hall swung open, revealing a small boy being led in. The crowd gasped as they recognized him—young William, his innocent face pale and bewildered.

Giovanna's jaw clenched as she watched her young cousin, a wave of guilt and fury crashing over her. Richard's cruelty knew no bounds.

"Tell us, William," Richard said, his voice dripping with feigned gentleness. "Do you remember anything unusual about your cousin, our dear princess?"

The boy hesitated, glancing at Giovanna with uncertain eyes. His voice trembled. "I... I saw her... with someone. A man. They... they were close."

The crowd's murmurs grew louder, their shock and suspicion growing as William continued, "He... he hurt me when I saw them. I don't remember much, but he hit me..."

Giovanna fought the impulse to recoil. Her heart ached as she remembered the night Edweyn had silenced the boy, a choice she had sanctioned to protect her own position. But now, that decision seemed to loom over her like a specter, ready to claim everything she had fought for.

Richard's voice was triumphant. "The princess claims to care for this kingdom, but what kind of woman harms her own family to protect her reputation? What kind of ruler would wound a child in pursuit of her desires?"

Her thoughts drifted to Ser Edweyn, her loyal shadow in all things. She remembered his stoic face at Jane's mother's execution, his quiet but unwavering allegiance. Edweyn had always been there, his loyalty the one constant she trusted in this den of vipers. And yet, where was he now? Why had he not come for her? Could he truly have been drawn into her uncle's schemes, or was he caught in the same web of deceit? Giovanna clenched her fists, her frustration barely contained. If Edweyn had betrayed her, there would be no mercy. She would see him punished—she would see them all punished.

Giovanna's voice rose, filled with bitter defiance. "Yes, I made mistakes. I allowed myself to be led by love, by ambition, even by desire. And perhaps, in that weakness, I made poor choices. But I did so to protect this kingdom and all of you," she said, sweeping her gaze over the crowd. "Unlike you, Uncle, I do not believe power is taken by sowing fear. True strength comes from understanding our people's needs, from protecting them."

Richard sneered, leaning forward. "Protecting them? Is that what you call it? Bringing darkness into the kingdom, jeopardizing the lives of innocent people? You speak of love and strength, but all I see is selfishness and weakness."

Giovanna's eyes burned as she stared him down, her voice laced with venom. "You speak of weakness, Uncle, but only a coward uses children and innocent women as pawns in his game. Only a coward hides behind the people's fear to fortify his power. You fear me because you know I am capable of leading this kingdom without cruelty, without deceit."

Richard's face darkened, his patience fraying. He stood, his voice rising with barely-contained fury. "Enough of this insolence! People of the kingdom, look upon this woman—this so-called 'princess'—and ask yourselves if she is fit to rule. She has conspired, lied, and betrayed even her own blood. I ask you, is this the ruler you would entrust with our future?"

The crowd's response was mixed, voices of doubt and anger mingling with whispers of uncertainty. She had protected these people, bled for them, defended them—and this was how they repaid her? Sheep, every last one of them, too blind to recognize a real leader when they saw one. They whispered about her ambition, about her ruthlessness, as though these were sins rather than the very qualities that had kept them safe. Fools. They would not understand true power if it struck them in the face.

But she would not relent. She addressed the crowd, her voice strong and unyielding. "You may doubt me. You may question my choices, even my character. But know this—I am the only one here willing to put myself on trial for you. I am the only one who will stand before you without hiding behind fear. My uncle may call me a traitor, but it is his own treachery you should fear."

Richard's face twisted into a mask of barely concealed fury. He turned to the guards, his tone harsh. "Take her away. Let her stew in her own arrogance. Tomorrow, the people shall decide whether or not to forgive her. But know this, Giovanna: I am done playing games. Your title, your freedom, your very life lies in their hands now."

Giovanna's eyes blazed as the guards seized her arms, and she met Richard's gaze with a defiant smile. "Do not think, Uncle, that your schemes will go unpunished. This is far from over."

And with that, she was dragged from the hall, the echoes of her words lingering in the air, a promise that would not be easily forgotten.