Page 63 of The Royal Art of Revenge

The jury is out on my safety when the truth comes out about who’s actually marrying the crown prince.

I’m not telling him that, though.

“Good. You’ve come so far since you got back. I still don’t know what you two went through out there, but you deserve some peace in your life.”

Ha.

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe I do deserve some peace.

Unfortunately, my soul won’t let me rest until I’ve done the exact opposite of find that. Especially not now I have this.

This is it.

This piece of paper is the first bit of proof I have that Rosalyn was, at minimum, aware of my planned kidnapping.

I know it’s more.

I know she’s responsible.

I know it was all her idea, all part of her plan to make herself the legitimate Mrs Sinclair and take a life that never belonged to her.

And having this? It’s the first step to ripping her apart. To showing everyone who she really is.

A jealous mistress.

A criminal.

A murderer.

I know that realistically, I’ll never be able to prove that she killed my mother. I wasn’t here. I have no proof. Even from what I’ve been told, she never physically laid hands on her or could have organised anything that would have directly killed her.

That doesn’t mean she wasn’t responsible.

I do know that my mother was perfectly healthy when I disappeared.

I know that me going missing would have wrecked her.

I know she would have destroyed herself trying to find me. She would have given everything in her power—things beyond her power. She would have begged and pleaded, she’d have screamed and cried and even bled if it meant bringing me home.

I know that not being able to find me would have shattered her beyond belief.

And killed her.

That’s how much my mother loved me.

That’s why I simply can’t let it go.

“Are you all right?” Rafayel asks.

I feign a smile. “Yes. Sorry. It’s just… A lot.” I motion offhandedly at the folder. “I thought it might feel a little more satisfying to get the lead I wanted.”

“But you’re just angry.”

“Yes.” I pause. “I’ve known the truth ever since I got back here, but a part of me didn’t want to believe it.”

“I won’t ask,” he says quietly. “But I think as humans, we don’t want to see the bad in people. We want to believe people are inherently good, even when we’re faced with truth that tells us otherwise.”