I read the letter again. Then a third time. My hands are shaking so badly the paper rattles.
The midwife's testimony is clear, damning, impossible to misunderstand. Domnall isn't the King's son. He's Lord Brennan Faulke's bastard, passed off as royal through Catriona's lies.
And I—bastard tutor, nobody, invisible—I carry legitimate royal blood. The King's daughter. The true heir.
The revelation is so enormous I can't process it. Can't even begin to understand what it means for everything—for Domnall's claim, for our children, for the future I thought we were building together.
Footsteps in the corridor. His footsteps, returning.
Instinct overrides thought. I fold the letter quickly, shove it behind my back just as the door opens.
Domnall enters carrying a stack of legal documents, expression animated. "The paperwork for acknowledging the children is ready. I just need to…"
He looks up, finally focuses on me. "Did you find anything interesting?"
My mouth has gone dry. The letter feels like it's burning through my dress into my skin.
"No." The lie comes out smoother than it should. "Nothing yet. Just the birth records we already knew about."
"Good. Well, not good, but…" He sets the papers on his desk, starts sorting through them. His back is to me.
I move carefully, silently, and slide the letter and supporting documents behind the bookshelf. The thick medical tome hides them completely.
***
Two days later, I'm already in Domnall's study when he arrives. I retrieved the hidden documents last night, studied them until dawn. I know the complete truth now.
The question is: what do I do with it?
Domnall enters looking haggard. Dark circles under his eyes, shoulders tense, expression grim.
"What's wrong?" I stand immediately.
He doesn't answer right away. Just crosses to the window, stares out at nothing. His hands grip the window frame, knuckles white.
"Domnall. What happened?"
He takes a breath, releases it slowly. When he speaks, his voice is hollow.
"The King is dead." The words fall like stones. "Died in his sleep last night. The succession council convenes within three days."
My chest goes tight. "Three days."
"My mother is already making preparations. This is what she's built her entire life around." His voice is bitter. He sinks into his chair. "I can't do it, Mairead. I can't sit on that throne knowing what she did to get me there."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm going to renounce my claim. Publicly. Break the engagement, acknowledge our children, face whatever consequences come." His jaw sets. "I'm done with my mother's script."
"We could leave," he continues. "Take the children and disappear. Let the succession council fight over a throne neither of us wants."
The offer is tempting. So tempting. To walk away from all of it—the politics, the murder, the impossible weight of crowns and claims.
But I think about my mother. About Orlaith Carraig, running and hiding, giving birth in a remote village, dying alone while her daughter was stolen and hidden and erased.
I think about Catriona orchestrating the destruction of an entire noble house. Installing her bastard son as heir. Getting away with murder for twenty-seven years.
"No." The word comes out firm. "We're not running."
"Mairead—"
A knock at the door interrupts him. He looks at me, questioning. I nod.
"Enter."
Bridei sweeps in, followed by two distinguished men carrying document cases.
"Bridei?" Domnall stands. "What are you doing here?"
"Mairead summoned me." She settles into a chair, gestures for the men to sit. "Along with Master Aldric and Master Brennan, the foremost legal scholars in Aeldmoor. We have matters to discuss regarding succession law."
Domnall looks between us, confused. "I don't understand…"
"Sit." I keep my voice gentle. "Please."
Master Aldric opens his document case, spreads papers across the desk. "We've been conducting extensive research into House Carraig's lineage at Lady Mairead's request. Birth records, family trees, historical documentation of their royal descent."
"The findings are significant," Master Brennan adds. "Mrs. Farren—or more properly, Lady Mairead of House Carraig—is the legitimate daughter of Lady Orlaith Carraig. House Carraig had direct royal bloodline going back eight generations. Stronger than most current nobility."
Domnall stares at the documents. "You're saying Mairead has a claim to the throne?"
"Not just a claim," Aldric clarifies. "Possibly the strongest legitimate claim, given House Carraig's uncontested royal descent and the circumstances of their destruction."
Silence. Domnall processes this, looking between me and the scholars.
"So what are you proposing?" His voice is careful. "That Mairead present herself to the succession council as a candidate?"
"Yes." I lean forward. "I'll reclaim my status as House Carraig's heir. Present evidence of my mother's lineage, expose what Catriona did to destroy my family."
"She controls the council," Domnall says flatly. "Has military alliances, political power built over decades. What can you possibly do against that?"
"I can tell the truth about what she did to House Carraig. Show them the evidence of orchestrated purge, of murdered nobles, of a bloodline destroyed to eliminate competition."
"They won't choose you." His voice is gentle but firm. "You're a woman with no political base, no military support, no allies in court. My mother will destroy you before you can even present your case."
"Then I'll build support." I'm thinking aloud now. "There are nobles who were loyal to House Carraig. Families who lost property in the purge. People who've suffered under Catriona's political maneuvering for years."
"That's not enough."
"Then we make it enough." I cut him off. "We expose her completely. Every murder, every manipulation. We make her so toxic that supporting her becomes political suicide."
"Mairead." Bridei's voice is careful. "What exactly are you proposing?"
I look at her, then at the legal scholars, then at Domnall.
"Catriona has controlled this kingdom from shadows for twenty-seven years. She's murdered nobles, destroyed houses, manipulated succession." I pause. "But it's only unbreakable if we accept it. If we let her keep operating in darkness."
"So we bring her into the light," Bridei says slowly. "Expose everything publicly."
"More than that. We don't just expose her crimes. We dismantle her power base. We turn her allies against her. We make it impossible for the council to ignore my claim without legitimizing murder and political assassination."
"Even if you expose her," Domnall says, "the council might choose stability over justice. A known heir over a woman with royal blood but no political experience."
"Then we don't give them that choice." My voice hardens. "We force their hand. We make my claim so public, so undeniable, so supported by evidence and law that refusing it would delegitimize the entire system."
Master Aldric leans forward. "You're describing a complete upheaval of the current power structure. Overturning decades of political positioning through exposure of past crimes."
"I'm describing justice." I correct him. "My mother was murdered. Her house was destroyed. I was stolen, hidden, erased from history. And the woman who orchestrated all of it is about to see her plans come to fruition unless someone stops her."
My voice drops, cold and determined. "I see only one way to solve this problem—to reclaim what was stolen from my family."
"Mairead." Domnall stands, studies my face. "What are you planning?"
I look at him—at the man I love, whose mother murdered mine. At Bridei, who's risked everything to help me. At the legal scholars holding documentation that could change the kingdom.
At the future my mother was murdered to prevent me from claiming.
"Revolution."
To be continued…
Hey guys, the author is here! Hope you liked the book, because we have a lot planned for it… ;) Who knows how many will survive the following events, lol, and I’m not sure who I’m referring to—the characters or readers… Alright, just kidding.
Or am I?..