Brielle’s POV
It wasn’t supposed to feel like a trial.
But it did.
I stood at the edge of the central courtyard: where we’d held war briefings, oath ceremonies, and once, a mourning fire that burned for three days straight,and it felt like the ground itself was waiting to see which side I’d land on.
Not Jake’s side.
Not Arthur’s.
Mine.
That was the part no one said out loud.
This wasn’t just about loyalty.
It was about ownership.
Who I belonged to.
Who I would choose.
And the truth?
I hated that it had come to this.
That my name had become something passed around like a knife: whispered in council halls and border camps and between diplomats too polite to ask the question outright.
So here I was.
Facing it.
Facing all of them.
The courtyard had been cleared. No flags. No
