Chapter 534: NO MORE SUSPICIOUS
Auburn woke to the sound of bells tolling across the castle grounds. At first, she forgot where she was.
The soft velvet beneath her palms, the embroidered sheets brushing against her skin, and the canopy above her, all of it felt like some stranger’s life.
She had grown up on straw mats and worn blankets; this chamber was Scarlett’s, the lost princess’s room, and now it had been handed to her as though it belonged.
But it didn’t. It never would.
Her heart raced as she sat up, pressing a hand to her chest.
The Trial of Blood was still vivid in her mind: the silence when nothing happened, the suffocating fear, and then the sudden flicker of Cherry’s magic.
She had been moments from being branded an imposter and executed in front of the entire court. Her death would have been quick, merciless, forgotten.
Instead, she had walked out alive. Not just alive? crowned by whispers, called Princess Auburn.
The title lingered in her head, both intoxicating and suffocating.
The door creaked open, and Cherry swept inside without knocking. Auburn stiffened instinctively. The older woman’s presence filled the room like smoke cloying, inescapable.
"You look pale," Cherry observed, her eyes narrowing as she approached the bed. "What’s the matter? Did the silks frighten you?"
Auburn forced a weak smile. "It still feels... unreal."
Cherry sat on the edge of the bed, her crimson hair gleaming in the morning light. She reached out, brushing a strand of Auburn’s red hair between her fingers. "It should feel unreal. That’s because it isn’t yours. None of this is." Her voice dropped lower. "You are not Amara anymore. You are Auburn. Scarlett’s daughter. Every glance, every step, every word must drip with blood you don’t have. Do you understand?"
Auburn’s throat tightened. She nodded quickly.
Cherry’s grip on her hair tightened until Auburn winced. "If you falter, you die. If you betray me, you’ll wish you had died sooner."
The words chilled Auburn’s bones. She lowered her gaze, her voice barely above a whisper. "I won’t betray you."
"Good," Cherry said smoothly, releasing her hair. "Because Rose is already blinded by you. Roland will take longer, but once his grief softens, you will be the golden child of this court. And when that happens, every decision they make will pass through you, through us."
Auburn swallowed. Through us. Not her. Never her. She was just a pawn in Cherry’s game.
By midmorning, the castle had turned restless. Word of the Trial spread like fire through dry grass. Servants whispered in corridors, guards muttered behind helmets, and courtiers debated in hushed circles. Some swore it was a miracle—that Scarlett’s child had truly returned. Others murmured that it was trickery, a desperate ploy.
The council was summoned to the Great Hall. Auburn wasn’t invited, but Cherry went, leaving her alone to pace the length of her chamber. Her ears strained for every echo, every passing footstep. She hated the waiting—it made her feel like prey cornered in a trap.
Meanwhile, in the council chamber, the tension was thick. Roland stood at the head of the table, his face grim. Rose sat beside him, her eyes still swollen from weeping, her hands clasped tightly as though she feared Auburn might vanish if she let go.
"I will not hide my doubts," Roland began. His voice rumbled low, tired but commanding. "The girl passed the Trial, yes. But the glow was faint. Weak. Not the blaze we expected from a true heir."
Rose flinched. "You saw it with your own eyes. It was there. She carries Scarlett’s blood, Roland. I feel it in my bones."
"Feeling is not proof," he countered. "And proof is what we owe our people. If she is truly ours, I will kneel beside you. But if she is not...."His gaze hardened. "We cannot afford another imposter."
Hildegard spoke up, her voice sharp. "I agree with His Majesty. It was too convenient. Too sudden. And forgive me, but the girl appears on the very day Cherry returns? Is that coincidence, or collusion?"
All eyes turned to Cherry. She feigned a wounded look, hand on her chest. "You wound me, Hildegard. You’ve never liked me, and now you poison the air with suspicion when Rose finally has something to live for. Why must you always stand in the way of her joy?"
Hildegard’s jaw tightened. "Because joy without truth is poison in itself."
"Enough," Rose snapped, slamming her palm against the table. Her voice trembled with fury. "I will not hear another word against my granddaughter. If you cannot see Scarlett in her face, in her spirit, then your eyes are clouded with bitterness."
The chamber fell into uneasy silence. Roland pinched the bridge of his nose. Cherry leaned back, a faint smile curving her lips. She had played her part well, appearing loyal, defending Rose, and making Hildegard seem like a jealous enemy.
Elsewhere in the castle, Belle stormed into Coral’s chambers, her fists clenched. Her usually graceful composure cracked with rage.
"Mother!" she hissed. "Do you see what’s happening? That girl this Auburn has stolen everything. Grandmother looks at her the way she used to look at me."
Coral set down her embroidery, her tired eyes softening. "Belle, you are still her granddaughter. Nothing changes that."
"Don’t be naïve!" Belle spat. "Everything changes. Do you not see it? I was next in line. Now, now I am nothing." Her voice broke, but she quickly masked it with venom. "I will not let her take what is mine. No one steals from me and lives."
Coral reached for her, but Belle pulled away, her face hard with resolve.
By evening, Auburn overheard whispers about Candy’s disappearance. Maids in the corridor speculated in hushed tones.
"They say she fled the castle in shame."
"No, no..... she angered the Queen, that’s why she vanished."
"Or worse... maybe the girl’s arrival has something to do with it."
The words pricked Auburn’s conscience. She knew the truth. Candy hadn’t fled. Candy hadn’t angered Rose. Candy was dead, her head severed by Cherry’s magic, her blood staining the stones. Auburn had watched it happen. She had stood silent, too terrified to stop it.
That night, Hildegard approached Rose privately. "Doesn’t it trouble you, my Queen, that Candy disappears just as this girl appears? That her story fits too perfectly, as though written by someone’s hand?"
Rose turned away, her expression pained. "You are cruel, Hildegard. I have longed for Scarlett’s child for years, and now she is here. Must you drag shadows into my light?"
Hildegard’s lips thinned. She said nothing more, but her suspicion deepened.
When Cherry returned to Auburn’s chamber, she found the girl staring into the mirror, tracing her red hair with trembling fingers.
"They’re whispering about Candy," Auburn said hoarsely. "They’ll suspect...."
"They will suspect nothing," Cherry cut her off. "Rose will shield you, and Roland’s doubts will soften. But you must do your part."
"My part?"
Cherry leaned close, her breath brushing Auburn’s ear. "You must win them. Slowly. Sweetly. Make them see Scarlett in your smile, in your grief, in your love for Rose. You are not just Auburn, you are the future they’ve been starving for. If you stumble, you die. If you succeed..." Her lips curled. "You will sit higher than anyone in this kingdom, and through you, so will I."
Auburn closed her eyes, fear and thrill battling in her chest.
Two days later, Roland announced that Auburn would be formally presented to the people. The proclamation spread like wildfire. Some celebrated the return of a princess. Others whispered of deceit. The city buzzed with anticipation.
In her chamber that night, Auburn dreamt of Candy. She saw her severed head, lips moving, whispering the same word over and over: "Imposter. Imposter. Imposter." She woke drenched in sweat, her heart pounding.
Across the castle, Belle stood at her balcony, staring into the night sky. Her voice was low, venomous. "I’ll expose her, or I’ll destroy her."
Later that evening, Rose sat alone in her private solar, her hands folded tightly in her lap. The fire crackled in the hearth, but her mind wasn’t calm. She kept replaying the sharp words she had exchanged with Hildegard.
"You are cruel, Hildegard," she had shouted. "You would rather strip me of hope than let me believe!"
Her throat still burned with the memory. For years, Hildegard had been her rock, her confidante since childhood. But now, it felt as though a wall had been driven between them.
The door opened softly, and Cherry entered. She walked with that careful grace, red hair gleaming, lips curved into the faintest smile.
"You look troubled, sister," Cherry said gently.
Rose sighed, turning toward the fire. "I quarreled with Hildegard. It was ugly. She accused me again, she said Auburn isn’t Scarlett’s. She said the glow was too faint to be true. I... I lashed out. Harder than I should have."
Her voice broke, her eyes misting. "Do you think I was too harsh on her? She has been with me since we were children, Cherry. She has never spoken to me with such coldness before."
Cherry came closer, resting her hand on Rose’s shoulder. "You weren’t too harsh. You only defended what is yours. Hildegard has always clung too tightly, always put herself between you and your heart. She doesn’t understand loss the way you do."
Rose’s brows knitted. "Still, she has been my truest companion."
"Companions grow jealous when they are no longer the center of attention," Cherry murmured, her tone smooth. "And she is jealous now. She fears being replaced. You were right to put her in her place. For the best, truly. If she cannot stand beside you, then she stands against you."
Rose looked down at her clasped hands. "Do you really think so?"
Cherry tilted her head, her smile just sharp enough to gleam. "I know so. You have your granddaughter back. That is all that matters. Don’t let Hildegard’s bitterness poison the joy you have waited for."
Rose exhaled shakily, leaning against her sister’s arm. "Perhaps you are right. Perhaps it was for the best."
Cherry’s hand stroked her hair like a mother soothing a child, but her eyes glittered coldly over Rose’s head.