The room is cold and silent, save for the shuffle of Shea's bound feet on the marble floor.
She stands before us in a loose gray tunic, hair disheveled, lips set in a line of defiance. Cassian and I face her in the palace's private security chamber, no guards, no aides, just the three of us, and questions too long delayed.
"Why were you trying to flee the kingdom, Shea?" Cassian's voice is calm, but the ice beneath it is unmistakable.
She doesn't answer.
I step forward. "You've lived in this palace for years under the Queen's protection. Who are you really? What are you hiding?"
Still, nothing.
Just when Cassian opens his mouth again, the door swings open.
Doctor Renard bursts in, face grave, voice breathless. "Highnesses, we have no time for this."
Cassian turns. "What do you mean?"
"The Queen's condition has worsened. Her blood pressure is crashing. Her vitals are unstable." He wipes his brow with a shaking hand. "We're losing her."
My heart drops. "You said she needed a direct donor…"
"I'm aware she named Shea. If that's her will, then let her be tested." He doesn't even look at Shea as he beckons to his assistant behind him.
Two nurses enter with a portable blood kit and gloves.
"She's under suspicion," Cassian warns, still standing protectively in front of me. "You're sure this is wise?"
"If she has the blood match, she may be the Queen's only chance," Renard snaps. "We can't rely on the blood bank. The Queen's genotype is extremely rare."
Without waiting for approval, the doctor moves in and draws Shea's blood under sharp light.
She flinches, but says nothing. I watch her eyes, its hollow, calm, and unreadable. My skin prickles.
Minutes pass.
We wait in the silence of too many thoughts.
Then Doctor Renard returns, his face a stone mask. "Negative."
My breath hitches.
"She doesn't match the Queen," he says. "Not even close. She's not a viable donor."
Cassian swears under his breath, pacing.
"What now?" I ask, my voice low.
Renard straightens, then says firmly, "We summon the Royal Council. All senior members. Every single one must be tested."
Cassian frowns. "You're sure?"
"There's no other way. The Queen cannot survive another collapse. And as monarch, she's forbidden from taking blood from the general public. The donor must be of noble or royal standing. The Council is our only hope."
He looks at me, then at Cassian.
"I suggest we act quickly. Every minute counts."
The Grand Council Chamber is no longer a place of deliberation, it's a makeshift triage. One by one, the eleven council members trickle in, summoned with no explanation beyond urgent royal matters.
The tension is thick. None of them ask questions, not yet. Doctor Renard gives them curt instructions, draws their blood in silence, and moves quickly to the next. Faces are pale. Whispers fill the space between the clinking vials.
Lord Amos is first. Negative.
Lady Hava follows. Negative.
General Mikel. Negative.
Each result lands like a blow to the chest.
Ten names. Ten tests. Ten failures.
And then Lord Edric, the last, offers his arm silently. We wait again. Hope thins like thread.
"Negative," Doctor Renard mutters finally.
Cassian runs a hand through his hair, his composure fraying. "Damn it."
Renard looks around. "If I may… we'll have to move on to testing the palace guards and domestic staff. With permission, I'll have them gathered…"
"No." The firm voice cuts through the tension like a blade.
All heads turn.
It's Lord Edric.
"Wait a minute," he says, his eyes sweeping across the room before settling on me. "We've all been tested, but one remains."
I blink. "Who?"
Edric points directly at me. "Her. The Crown Princess. Isn't she royal too?"
A hush falls.
Cassian turns slowly, as if the idea hadn't crossed his mind until now. His gaze meets mine; wide, questioning and full of something unspoken.
"You should've been tested first," Lady Hava murmurs.
"She is of royal standing now," another council member adds.
"But… my blood…" I begin, but my voice falters.
"You were adopted into this house. Chosen by the Queen. Wed to the Crown Prince," Edric presses gently. "It's your duty now, too."
Cassian's eyes never leave mine. "You don't have to…"
"I do it," I interrupt quietly. "If there's a chance I can help her… I will."
Before anyone else can speak, Doctor Renard steps forward. "Please, Your Highness. This way."
He draws my blood quickly, gently. The vial fills with quiet purpose. Everyone watches in stillness.
Minutes pass.
I pace, fingers twisting in front of me. I've never prayed harder in silence.
Then the door bursts open.
Doctor Renard stands there, breathless and smiling.
"There's a match," he announces, holding the chart like a trophy. "We found it."
He looks straight at me.
"It's her. The Crown Princess."
Gasps fill the room.
My knees nearly give way.
Cassian rushes to my side and grabs my hand.
And somewhere inside me, something shifts; something ancient, something inevitable.
I am the match.
I am the only one.