To ruin an Omega - Chapter 352: He without sin 2

Chapter 352: He without sin 2

ALDRIC

A few heads turned immediately at the mention of that name.

“And there are more,” she continued quickly. “So many more people working with him.”

She began listing names then.

The first few tightened something in my chest because I recognized them immediately. People I had met privately. Individuals who had provided useful information or influence when the situation required it.

But the list did not stop there.

More names followed.

Some of them belonged to people I had never heard of.

Others sounded suspiciously convenient.

It took only a few seconds for the realization to settle into place.

Cian had prepared this.

He had mixed truth with fiction so carefully that any attempt to defend myself would risk exposing the parts that were actually real. If I denied everything, someone might eventually uncover the pieces that were true. If I tried to argue the details, I might accidentally confirm something worse.

The trap was elegant in its simplicity.

Madeline’s voice grew louder as she spoke, her fear turning into something frantic.

“I was terrified,” she cried. “I thought he would kill me.”

She paused just long enough for the next words to sink in.

“Just like he killed Ophelia.”

The courtyard fell completely silent.

Someone near the back gasped aloud, the sound sharp and involuntary. The name carried weight here, considering what that name had almost caused Skollrend, enough that people immediately understood what Madeline was implying. I heard fabric shift as several people turned to look at one another, whispers beginning to ripple through the gathering crowd.

Shock moved through them slowly at first.

Then faster.

Like a wave spreading outward from the center of the courtyard.

******

Someone moved behind me.

I didn’t turn to look, but I knew who it was before she even spoke. Morrigan had a way of stepping into a room that carried its own kind of presence, like the air shifted to make space for her. Her voice cut through the murmuring crowd, sharp with confusion.

“What does that mean? That doesn’t sound like Aldric at all.”

A few heads turned toward her, though most people were still staring at me like I had suddenly grown horns. I kept my eyes forward. If I started looking around now, if I began searching faces for support or doubt, it would show too much.

Elara was there too.

I caught sight of her off to the side of the gathering crowd. She stood with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, shoulders stiff in a way that reminded me of when she was a child trying not to cry in front of strangers. Her expression had twisted into something hard to read. Anger, certainly. Disbelief too. The two emotions sat uneasily together on her face.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice carrying clearly across the courtyard. “That doesn’t sound like my father at all.”

The words might have helped.

Under different circumstances they would have.

But the moment had already slipped too far out of my hands for simple loyalty to fix it.

Ronan forced his way through the crowd next. He pushed between two sentinels with the blunt determination of a man who had no patience for politeness. His face had gone red with anger, the veins along his neck standing out as he stepped forward.

“This is insane,” he snapped. “This woman is insane.”

His fists were clenched so tightly that the knuckles had gone pale.

Several people murmured agreement.

Others just watched.

And through all of it I said nothing.

Not a word.

It wasn’t restraint. It wasn’t some calculated silence meant to intimidate them or make them wonder what I was thinking. The truth was much simpler than that.

I couldn’t speak.

If I opened my mouth right then, I would have to choose between denying everything or confirming it. Either option carried its own set of problems, and both of them led directly into the trap Cian had spent so much time building.

If I denied it immediately, loudly and defensively, I would look exactly like what they expected a guilty man to look like. Desperate. Cornered. Scrambling for excuses.

If I confirmed even a part of it, the entire structure would collapse on top of me.

So I stood there.

I let the noise grow around me while the courtyard filled with tension and whispers. The murmuring crowd felt like a living thing pressing in from every direction. I could feel their eyes on my back, on my face, on the slightest shift of my shoulders.

Through all of it, Cian watched me.

His gaze never left mine.

He didn’t look furious the way I might have expected. There was no triumph in his expression either, no smug satisfaction at seeing me dragged into the open like this.

He simply looked calm.

Patient.

He probably saw himself as a hunter who had already laid the trap and now had nothing left to do but wait for the animal to realize it had stepped into it.

After a long moment he spoke.

“Uncle.”

The word came out quietly, almost gently.

That alone made several people shift uncomfortably.

“Would you like to respond to these vile accusations?”

The way he said it was clever.

Soft enough that it sounded reasonable, respectful even, but the question itself carried the weight of a blade wrapped carefully in silk.

Because he knew what silence would look like.

If I stayed quiet much longer the crowd would start filling the gaps themselves. Silence becomes confession very quickly when people are already primed to believe the worst.

But speaking meant stepping onto ground he had prepared.

Ground I couldn’t see clearly yet.

The corner of my mouth twitched.

Then I laughed.

The absurdity of the whole situation pressed down on me all at once, and the only response that felt honest was amusement.

It was brilliant.

Infuriating, but brilliant.

If I was the one who set this up, I would have enjoyed it.

He had maneuvered me into this position step by careful step, and I hadn’t even realized how much the board was shifting under my feet.

I looked directly at him.

“Do you believe her?”

For the first time since this began, Cian hesitated.

He pretended to at least.

“She left here this morning,” he said slowly, choosing each word. “On what seemed like her own volition.”

His eyes flicked briefly toward Madeline before returning to me.

“And I saw how you reacted when she was gone.”

He exhaled through his nose.

“I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want to believe it. But…”

His voice trailed off just enough to make the hesitation sound real.

Just enough to convince the crowd he was struggling with the idea rather than embracing it.

I scoffed.

The sound came out sharper than I intended, loud enough to slice through the murmuring around us.

“Well,” I said, “I’m not interested in this game.”

I let the words sit there for a moment.

Let them breathe.

“So yeah,” I added with a small shrug, “maybe she’s not lying.”

The courtyard erupted.

It wasn’t an explosion in the literal sense, but the surge of noise that followed felt just as violent. People began shouting over each other immediately, the quiet tension breaking apart into overlapping waves of outrage and confusion.

Someone gasped loudly.

Ronan started yelling at me in shock.

Elara’s voice rose in protest somewhere to my right, while Morrigan demanded to know what the hell was really going on.

The sound piled on top of itself until it became almost impossible to separate one voice from another.

I ignored it.

All of it.

Instead I turned slowly to face the crowd.

Faces stared back at me from every direction. Some looked furious. Others looked stunned, like they were still trying to decide whether they had heard me correctly.

“Is that what I’m supposed to say?” I asked calmly.

The noise around me faded slightly as people struggled to understand what I meant.

“My admission?”

My voice remained steady, almost conversational.

“These accusations are far from the truth. Anyone standing here should be able to speak about my character. I am not a traitor. I would never be a traitor.”

I gestured broadly toward the estate behind us.

“I love Skollrend,” I continued. “I have spent my entire life protecting it. I would never do anything to harm it.”

Then I pointed directly at Madeline.

She stiffened under the weight of the gesture.

“This witch is a liar.”

The words landed heavily.

I didn’t rush to fill the silence that followed. Letting them settle was more effective than repeating them.

“And I demand a trial,” I added after a moment, “in the elder’s circle.”

That stirred the crowd in a different way.

Whispers began spreading again, though this time the tone had shifted. The elders’ circle carried weight. Tradition. Authority.

If I was the one bringing that up, it begged the question; was U actually lying?

Still though, people glanced toward one another uncertainly.

Cian still hadn’t moved.

He stood exactly where he had been before, watching me with that same patient expression, as if he were waiting to see whether I would continue digging the hole deeper.

And maybe I was.

Because I could feel it now.

The pressure tightening around my chest.

The slow realization that the careful balance I had maintained for years was gone completely now.

Cian had learned.

At some point along the way he had stopped being the boy I thought I understood. He had watched, listened, studied every move I made until he finally understood how the game worked.

And now he was playing it.

Better than I had expected.

My eyes moved back to Madeline.

Her face was still wet with tears, her hands gripping her father’s suit like she might collapse if she let go. Anyone who didn’t know her would believe the fear written across her features.

Then I looked at Cian again.

He met my gaze without hesitation.

And for the first time in years, I felt something stir in my chest that I hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Fear.

Not the paralyzing kind. Al emotions had usefulness.

This turned out to be the useful kind. I had actually gotten cocky somewhere across the line. That wouldn’t repeat itself with the second and third chance I intended to give myself.

I relished it when it came. It sharpened my senses and forced my mind to move faster. It was the kind of adrenaline I needed to remind me that the fight wasn’t over yet.

I smiled.

If this truly was the moment everything came apart, then I intended to make it worth remembering.

Without another word I started walking toward them.

The crowd parted automatically as I moved forward. People stepped aside, giving me a clear path through the center of the courtyard, though many of them continued staring like they expected something violent to happen at any moment.

I stopped a few feet away from Cian, Valentine, and Madeline.

“Surely, I am not asking for too much.”

“A trial then,” Cian said quietly. “In the elder’s circle.”

My eyes remained on Cian.

“Let’s see what they have to say about all of this.”

For a moment, neither of us moved.

The air between us tightened, thick with the weight of what had just happened.

Then Cian spoke.

His voice was low, calm, and far too certain.

“Take them.”

The sentinels moved at once. Steel boots struck the earth as they stepped forward, forming a tight circle around both Ronan and me before either of us could react. Hands closed on our arms, firm and unyielding.

Cian did not raise his voice again.

He did not need to.

We were already surrounded.