Chapter 114 Why did you let this happen, Osbel?

It was a few days later since everything had settled, or settled as much as a scandal that size could settle. The town still buzzed with talk of it, whispers trailing through the market, but the facts had at least come clear enough to quiet the wildest rumors.

Osbel sat behind his desk, a fresh letter spread flat beneath his palm, the wax seal already broken and pushed aside. His eyes moved slowly over the same line for the third time. "Hakimi Morrow." He tapped the paper once. "Along with Diana Dietrich."

He let out a long breath and glanced up toward Mirabelle, seated across from him, a blanket still draped over her shoulders from the fever that had knocked her flat a few days prior. Color had mostly returned to her face, though her hands stayed folded tight in her lap, knuckles pale.

"Do you have anything to say on this matter?" Osbel asked, setting the letter down.

"You already know my answer." Mirabelle's voice came out thin, still weak from the illness. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself. "I know what happened was hard on Diana. Harder than it should have been. But I never had any bad intentions in any of it."

"No one's blaming you for that anymore." Osbel shook his head slowly. "That matter's already been settled between us."

"I always saw her as my own blood, Osbel." Mirabelle's eyes glistened, and she blinked hard against it. "I don't want her sent off to the capital. Not like this."

"I understand that part of it well enough." He rubbed a hand slowly across his jaw. "But what you're asking is for me to disobey a direct order from the King himself. And they haven't even given a reason for it."

"So we're meant to sacrifice our daughter just to protect the family name?" Mirabelle's voice cracked, sharper now despite her weakness. She leaned forward slightly in her chair. "Have you even spoken to Diana about any of this?"

"Not yet." Osbel's jaw tightened. "She's still fragile after everything she went through. At the very least, I wanted today to be a good day for her."

"Then talk to Hakimi first." Mirabelle's hands unclenched slightly, grasping at the idea. "He can speak with her. She'll listen to him before she listens to either of us."

"Actually." Osbel reached into the drawer beside him and pulled out a second letter, sliding it across the desk toward her. "This one arrived earlier. Before the other."

Mirabelle straightened in her seat, color draining slightly from her face as she scanned the contents, lips moving faintly over the words. "They only want Hakimi?" Her eyes shot up. "What's the meaning of this?"

"I believe they already anticipated he wouldn't come without her." Osbel folded his hands together on the desk. "So they sent a second letter shortly after, demanding both of them."

"Then that's better, isn't it?" Mirabelle sat up straighter, something like relief flickering across her face. "We simply speak with Diana. Explain that the King has no real need of her. They've been together for years, yes, but she'll understand the situation."

"She won't." Osbel let out a tired sigh, pressing two fingers against his temple. "You know that as well as I do."

"It won't matter either way." Mirabelle's voice hardened. "She's our daughter. We know what's best for her future, don't we? Are you honestly satisfied with the idea of sending her off, tied to nothing more than some knight?"

"That's not a decision that belongs to us." Osbel's eyes lifted, meeting hers directly. "What's right or wrong for her life. That was never ours to decide in the first place."

"What exactly are you saying?" Mirabelle's voice snapped sharp across the room, the blanket slipping from one shoulder as she sat bolt upright. "If it's not us who decides, then who? The King? The royal family, who's never once bothered to know her?"

Mirabelle's face went pale, then horrified, eyes darting back and forth across the page, hunting for some line that might undo what she'd just read. The paper slipped from her fingers, drifting to the floor, and she swallowed hard around the lump rising in her throat. "I knew. I knew King Romas had appointed Hakimi to protect her. But this." Her voice cracked, forcing each word out like it cost her something. "Who. How many people actually know about this?"

"King Agustin. All his siblings. Casimiro Morrow, and perhaps a small handful of others beyond that." Osbel bent down and picked the paper back up, folding it carefully along its original crease. "Hakimi doesn't know. Not yet. Casimiro believed it would damage what they had between them if he found out, so everyone agreed to keep it buried."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Mirabelle's hands trembled in her lap, and her voice climbed, thin and raw. "Why did you let it come down to arranging her marriage instead? I shouldn't have pushed for any of it." She pressed a hand to her mouth for a moment, steadying herself. "Has word of this already reached the capital? Is that why they're demanding both of them now?" Her eyes snapped back to him, wet and furious. "Why did you let this happen, Osbel?"

"I." He stopped, jaw working before the words came. "I convinced myself it was a reasonable solution at the time. Hakimi wasn't here. Who was I supposed to ask instead, some paper locked inside a book only I knew how to open?" He rubbed a hand hard down his face. "I was afraid of facing Diana myself, afraid of what she'd say if I told her the truth outright. I told myself Hakimi would fix it the moment he returned, that he'd never actually let the marriage happen." He paused, staring down at his own hands. "I wanted Diana to be the one who decided, in the end. Even once Hakimi arrived, he only stood there and watched. I convinced myself that meant something. That it meant I was protecting her, protecting all of us really, my own name included."

Neither of them spoke for a long moment after that, the silence stretching heavy between them. Both of them understood, without needing to say it aloud, exactly what they'd done. They'd told themselves for weeks that they were acting in Diana's best interest, weighing every decision around what might protect her, and neither of them had once thought to simply ask her.

"I'll tell Diana everything." Osbel pushed himself up slowly from the chair, the paper still gripped tight in his hand. "The moment this day ends."

Diana sat perched in front of the full body mirror, the golden gown pooling around her feet, three maids working in careful, practiced motion around her. One combed slow, even strokes through her hair, pinning small sections into place. Another blew gently across her nails, the fresh coat of polish still wet and glossy. A third leaned close with a small brush, working color across her cheeks with light, precise strokes.

Barbra stood a few steps back near the wall, arms crossed, face carefully blank.

"Why are you giving me that look?" Diana caught her reflection in the mirror, eyes flicking toward the maid.

"Why?" Barbra raised an eyebrow, gesturing down at her own dress, a simpler affair compared to the gold spilling across the room. "This is exactly why. Why do I have to wear this thing? It's supposed to be your day, not mine."

"It looks good on you, though." Diana turned slightly in her seat, taking her in properly. "You'll definitely catch some man's eye today."

"I don't need a man." Barbra's chin lifted. "I'm perfectly fine without one."

"You really do look gorgeous, though." Diana's mouth curved into a small, teasing smile. "If I were a man, I'd ask you out myself."

"Humph." Barbra scoffed loudly, cheeks flushing red despite herself. She glanced away toward the window, muttering just barely above a whisper. "Would you?"

A knock cut through the quiet, and Diana glanced toward the door. "Enter."

The door eased open, and Hakimi stepped through, calm as always, eyes finding her the moment he crossed the threshold, taking in the four women gathered around her.

"Lady Diana." He crossed the room toward her.

"Yes, what is it?" Diana turned in her seat to face him fully. "And how do I look?"

His eyes flicked briefly to Barbra, then back. "You look good."

Diana's brow creased slightly. "Just good?"

"Yes." He held her gaze a beat longer. "I need to speak with you. Alone."

"Alone?" She blinked, then remembered herself quickly. "Ah. Right. Give us a moment, please."

The maids dipped small bows and slipped out one after another. Barbra trailed last, eyes fixed on Hakimi the entire way to the door, unreadable.

The door clicked shut behind her.

"You might want to sit." Hakimi's hand drifted toward the hilt of the sword at his hip.

"Is it really that bad?" Diana lowered herself back into the chair, already turning possibilities over in her head.

Hakimi held her gaze steady, then drew the blade free in one smooth motion. "You know the history of this sword."

"Of course." Diana studied the edge of it, catching the light. "The late King Romas handed it to you himself, when he named you my personal knight." She paused, eyes narrowing slightly as she thought it through. "And it can only be drawn on my behalf. For my protection."

Hakimi lifted the blade a fraction higher, turning it slowly in the light.

"There's a second person now."