death is the only ending for the trash queen

Part 17

"...repeat that."

"Tea, your majesty. We thought it was suspicious and so we investigated more thoroughly throughout the scene. All of them were full of tea. To be sure that there were no strange ingredients, we had them tested. Every single one was just tea."

Alver sat in pensive silence as the information settled down in his chaotic thoughts.

"How many know about this?" He asked.

"Only the other knights investigating."

"Make sure it stays this way. If the information spreads, I will hold you all accountable."

"Yes, your majesty."

"You're dismissed."

Alver sighed and held his head in his hands as he tried to comprehend the information provided. All he could know for sure was that she wouldn't want the information spread and so he needed to keep it quiet.

She wouldn't have lied unless she wanted to believe it.

How long?

How long had she been perfectly sober? How long had she been swigging bottles of tea and swaggering around as though she was black out drunk? Weeks? Months? Years?

Would she tell him if he asked?

No. She certainly wouldn't.

How could he have failed to notice sooner? He was sure she smelled of alcohol but–that was easy enough to do without actually drinking it, wasn't it? After all, she had plenty of alcohol to pour out in order to make room for tea in those bottles.

She'd really gone out of her way to create a perfect deception but he still felt like a foolish wretch for falling for it. For seeing her flushed face and slurred words and allowing himself to believe the truth that she wanted him to see. After all, he was well-versed in how easy it was to manipulate the perceptions of others by showing them what they expected to see.

There was no such thing as a 'perfect' act but any gaps in her story were surely covered up by his own 'expectation'. She drank wine and therefore she was drunk. She smelled of it, she acted like it, and she drank the 'wine' right in front of him. Flaunting her lie with complete faith that he wouldn't look closer.

And she'd been right.

He slumped in his chair with a ragged laugh.

How could he claim to 'love' her when he hardly knew her? When he'd been so ready and willing to believe the worst of her? Had he truly tried to understand her? Had he ever, even once, truly gotten to know her heart?

Had he merel been dancing in the palm of her hand this whole time?

It was no joy for anyone to realize that they'd been duped and manipulated but Alver took it a bit worse than most might. His life, the lives of his kin, depended on his ability to perceive reality as it is and to see through lies.

How could he be capable of protecting anyone if he hadn't seen a lie so close?

The sting of betrayal struck as well. The concept that she'd been so thorough about lying about even her very sobriety left a deep anxiety of what else she could possibly be lying about. What might her intentions be? Did she mean him harm? Did she mean the kingdom harm?

And worst of all was his heart.

The wretched thing didn't care. Proudly proclaiming that no matter her intentions, no matter how foul or innocent, the love would remain. His heart was hers and there was no undoing that.