The next morning, they were summoned to an old council chamber. It was a smaller and older room than the grand throne hall. Senior councillors, faction leaders, and succession advisors already sat around a long table like judges at an execution.
The atmosphere in the chamber felt predatory. It was colder, and far more dangerous than the king’s court. Even Dorian looked serious, his usual charm was replaced by tension. Laura also looked worried as they entered and took their positions.
Alina stood between Austin and Laura, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. The elderly councillor unrolled a thick scroll and began reading in a formal tone.
"The Restoration Petition of Lady Alina Ashworth, daughter of the disowned Princess Isadora Ashrael, will now be formally reviewed," he announced. "The claimant must demonstrate sufficient proof of bloodline, moral suitability, and understanding of royal responsibility. The bloodline in question remains contested. The girl’s upbringing outside Arcasedia raises legitimate concerns regarding her ability to represent the dignity of the crown."
They spoke about her as though she were a legal dispute instead of a person standing right in front of them. She stood there frozen as the powerful n discussed her life like a legal docunt.
"The claimant’s early environnt must be taken into consideration," one advisor said, not even glancing at her. "Raised far from our customs, exposed to foreign influences..."
"Her moral character," another added imdiately. "The contract and her relationship with the Duke of Ravenmoor needs to be seriously considered."
"Can soone raised outside Arcasedia truly understand the weight of our royal dignity? Can a woman with her background survive the political scrutiny that cos with the Ashrael na?" Another one asked.
The councillors kept speaking, one after another, stripping her dignity piece by piece. They reduced her to "the claimant," "the girl," "the bloodline in question."
Only heaven knew how Austin was controlling himself. It it weren’t for Alina, he would have already burned the palace down.
Valdren waited patiently until everyone spoke. When he finally stood up, those who were still speaking fell silent imdiately.
"I comnd the petition system," he said politely. "It is rciful and gives every claimant a fair chance to prove themselves worthy."
He turned his gaze towards Alina.
"If Lady Alina truly possesses even a fraction of Princess Isadora’s strength, then this process should not frighten her," he smiled. "However, we must be honest with ourselves. The girl was raised far from our customs. She knows nothing about royal protocol. Her history includes a shaful contract with a foreign duke," he paused letting the words sink in.
"All these things speak of her character and whether she can truly carry the weight of the Ashrael na."
His voice remained gentle throughout his speech, making him even more terrifying.
"Princess Isadora herself abandoned Arcasedia because she could not endure the responsibilities expected of her."
The silence in the room suddenly felt suffocating.
"My mother left because she was unhappy," Alina snapped imdiately, without caring about the protocols or whatsoever. "She left because this court tried to break her for the sake of politics and power."
Valdren smiled faintly, as if she had just proven his point.
"Royal won don’t have the luxury of prioritizing happiness, Lady Alina."
Austin finally took a step forward, unable to control his fury anymore.
"You speak of duty as though cruelty is a virtue."
The atmosphere of the chamber changed instantly.
Valdren narrowed his eyes with interest.
"Careful, Duke of Ravenmoor. Foreign n have lost kingdoms for far less than this kind of... attachnt."
The threat . Everyone understood what it ant. Valdren had just pointed out that Austin’s love for Alina had beco political ammunition.
"Enough!" the king finally said. "I’ve heard enough from everyone. The court cannot deny that this girl is indeed my late sister’s daughter. She does carry her blood in her. But as Lord Valdren said yesterday, blood alone isn’t enough. You will undergo the formal petition process before the court makes its decision."
A murmur spread through the chamber imdiately. Laura’s face suddenly turned pale while Dorian looked grim but unsurprised. Austin stared at the king in silence, but the fury in his eyes was terrifying now. It looked as though every instinct in him was screaming to take Alina out of that chamber imdiately and never let this kingdom touch her again.
"The petition trials will begin tomorrow morning," the king continued lazily. "The details will be presented to Lady Alina as each stage progresses."
"Tomorrow?" Austin asked sharply.
"Naturally," the king replied. "If the girl wishes to get acknowledgnt, she should know that Arcasedia waits for no one."
Before anyone could protest further, he stood up from his seat.
"This session is dismissed."
The group walked out through the long palace corridors in silence. Alina felt the emotional weight hit her instantly. She felt like a piece on a table for powerful n to examine and discard at their convenience.
"The petition system was designed centuries ago to force unwanted claimants into withdrawing voluntarily. Most eventually broke down under the weight of it. So withdrew their claims while others lost themselves trying to survive the humiliation." Laura said as she walked beside Alina.
"What exactly does the process involve?" Alina asked.
Laura hesitated a little before answering.
"Public evaluations, court appearances, historical examinations and political observation."
Austin let out a bitter laugh.
"So they intend to turn her life into a performance," Austin almost panicked.
"No. Not a performance," Dorian said. "Instead, an endurance test."
Later that evening, Alina and Austin stood on the sa terrace overlooking the beautiful city of Kaelara.
"We can still leave," Austin said. "I’ll manage the king and find another way. You don’t have to endure all this."
As Alina stared out at the beautiful city below, she seriously considered this option. The thought of returning to Ravenmoor, to her sewing circle , to Cecily’s laughter and the simple life she had built there suddenly felt very tempting.
Below the terrace, two palace servants passed by, their voices drifting up in the quiet night.
"She’ll never survive the petition," one whispered, laughing. "She will break within a week."
Alina looked down for a long ti before speaking again.
"No," she replied. "I’ll make sure they regret underestimating ."
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