Chapter 767 (+25 Bonus)

After a few days, everyone at Harmony Palace requiring interrogation had been questioned. Rafael decided it was time to question Eleanor. Carissa was going to Ironridge Estate to see Jessica, while Rafael would interrogate Eleanor; a coordinated effort.

Eleanor had been in the dungeon for five days. Initially, she feigned madness. When that failed, she ceased resisting, appearing resigned to her fate. This, however, was merely a façade.

In the interrogation room, aunt and nephew sat opposite each other. Eleanor still wore the simple clothing from Emberfest, but days in the dungeon had wrinkled her garments and disheveled her hair. She looked gaunt, with dark circles under her eyes. She'd lost considerable weight, her skin sagging, aging her by five or six years. The harshness of sudden weight loss in middle age was evident, especially given her previously sharp disposition. Her appearance now reflected her bitterness.

Rafael began, "You kept those concubines locked away for a long time. How does it feel to be in the same situation?"

Eleanor looked up and smiled. "It's far worse than Harmony Palace's dungeon."

Rafael continued, "The king has issued a royal edict stripping you of your title. The Royal Citadel's governor will be searching your residence today."

Eleanor raised an eyebrow, her tone laced with sarcasm. "What difference does it make? I'm still of royal blood. My father was King Augustus, my mother Lady Chloe. No one can change that."

Her words dripped with irony and resentment; being Augustus's daughter seemed more curse than blessing.

Rafael remained calm. "Where did those weapons come from? Why were you plotting rebellion? Who is behind this?"

Eleanor smirked, defiance flickering in her expression. "Pointless to ask. Accuse me of treason; let them behead me. Let them execute my entire family line. That's how treason is judged, isn't it? Tell the king exactly what I said."

Rafael chuckled softly. Executing her entire family line would include him and Salvador, and, since she was married, her husband's family—a prospect the Marquis of Grovehill would surely appreciate.

Understanding her implication, he added, "His Majesty won't go that far. And Jessica is safe, provided she wasn't involved."

Eleanor lowered her gaze, suppressing her only remaining attachment: her daughter.

"Whatever. I don't care," she said, lifting her head. She despised being manipulated. "If you want to kill her, go ahead. She's not happy anyway."

Rafael's voice grew cold. "You still haven't answered my questions. Where did the weapons come from? Why the treason? Who's behind it? You're a commoner now. Don't confess, and we'll resort to torture. You'll have only yourself to blame."

Eleanor blinked innocently. "Why wouldn't I confess? I'm of noble birth; I can't withstand the Supreme Court's punishment. My backers provided the weapons. I had someone steal the armor from the Ministry of Defense's workshop—identical to theirs, you've surely noticed. As for the mastermind…"

She placed her hands on the table, a glint of cunning in her eyes.

"My dear nephew, you directed this, didn't you? You wanted to be king, and you wanted my help. You discovered the fate of the concubines who died in my palace. You held my weakness; I had no choice. You wouldn't dare act without taking responsibility, would you?"

The scribe hesitated. Rafael addressed him. "Record this accurately. Every word must be submitted to the king."

"Yes, Your Highness!" the scribe replied.

Eleanor laughed. "How amusing."

Rafael replied, "Indeed. Now, tell me more. When did I start using the concubines to threaten you? When did I mention rebellion and ask for your help? Who was present? How did we communicate while I was on the battlefield? Did we exchange letters?"