Duke Thompson residence
The chandeliers sparkled like captured stars above the assembled guests. Gold-threaded banners fluttered against marble walls, and long tables groaned under the weight of roasted game, glazed fruits, and jeweled pastries. Music drifted from the minstrels’ corner, cheerful yet carefully restrained, perfectly curated to match the tone of Duke Thompson’s feast.
It was not a royal celebration, yet nearly the entire court attended.
Duke Thompson stood at the head of the table, clad in dark green velvet and draped in measured grief. His hair was swept neatly back, his face wearing an expression that was both somber and noble.
The toast he gave was eloquent—mournful, even.
"To change is painful," he said solemnly, "but it is sometimes necessary for the good of the kingdom. We must honor duty above desire, unity above pride."
Those words were carefully chosen. Standing beside him Duchess Anita also had a warm smile. She had thought that Anastasia had become the envy of all since she married a prince and became a queen. She did not expect her to fall so soon.
Now that even her husband was willing to destroy her reputation, she felt blessed. Besides her, Elizabeth and her brother also greet the guests.
A few people looked behind them, most of them had Honor the invitation hoping to see the former queen. They wanted to know how she was doing but seeing her absence and hearing the Duke’s words, many began to speculate.
"Duchess Anita, where is you other daughter, has she not returned from the palace," a noble lady asked.
Anita upon hearing the question put on a trouble look. "As a step mother there are things that are not right for me to say," Anita said with a smile. No matter how much she wanted to speak, she knew it was best to keep quiet, after all, who would believe a stepmother.
"Mother, sister already got a house outside and has delcared that she would not come back. She hates you now because you kindly advise her not to divorce his majesty..." Elizabeth answered not wanting to miss the opportunity to ruin Anastasia’s reputation.
"Shut up," Duchess Anita pretend to scood her but she had infact allowed her to say so much.
"Mother... I am telling the truth, my sister became too proud after marrying his highness," Elizabeth said with grievance.
"Ladies, Elizabeth is still young and does not understand this things. Anastasia..." She sounded like she was short of words to defend her. "She has her difficulty," Duchess Anita had an awkward smile when she said this.
The other women laughed and echo their agreement but everyone could tell that something was not right.
Duke Thompson on the other hand continue to toast and chat with other nobles. He sometimes mentioned that a woman needed to be virtuous and obedient to her husband, saying that unity and peace was what the kingdom needed
He never once named his daughter.
But by the time the last toast was given and the hall began to empty, whispers flowed like spilt wine across the marble floors.
Private Courtyards, Whispering Nobles
"I heard the former Queen refused the King’s bed for months," murmured Lady Claren, leaning toward the Countess of Braxley. "It’s no wonder he grew distant."
The Countess gave a knowing nod. "Some women let power go to their heads. She always acted... above everyone. The King has been very patient."
These women had been jealous of the queen, after all she was the first woman who dared to demand a divorce from her husband, yet had a good reputation so they were willing to spread the news they learned from Duke Thompson feast.
"She was always cold," another court lady whispered. "A beautiful face, but no warmth. I heard she accused him of infidelity because of her own guilt."
The other women laughed, "whose husband does not have a mistress? If you ask me I will say she is stupid," the countess add.
"And did you hear?" Lady Merval joined in, his voice a little louder. "Apparently, the King was even ready to reconcile—but she insisted on divorce. Said she feared for her life, of all things! What nonsense. She’s just bitter she lost her place."
"It was pride," someone else added. "A jealous wife, unwilling to perform her duties as queen. Now she hides behind silence."
The woman were not the only ones who whispered about this. Even the men were happy to condemned her, after all they were scared their wives will take a lesson from Anastasia and also cause chaos in their family.
In one night, the news that the former queen was not virtuous and jealous spread through the royal city.
Duke Thompson’s Chambers
The Duke sat in silence, the echo of laughter and rumors filtering faintly through his windows. Mamod, his loyal steward, stood beside him with a tray of untouched food.
"It is done," Mamod said quietly.
The Duke did not respond at first.
He rose, clasping his hands behind his back, and stared at the flickering hearth.
"Let the world say what it wants," he murmured. "Let them tear her down with their own mouths. The more they speak, the less she’ll be believed—should she ever decide to speak."
Mamod shifted uneasily. "And if she does speak, my lord?" He still felt uncomfortable with this plan after all, what was going round was rumors. What if Anastasia still had evidence against the king, even Duke Thompson might not excape his good reputation.
Duke Thompson turned, eyes cold. "Then she will face the court’s judgment as a disobedient daughter and a traitor to the Crown. No one listens to a woman scorned, Mamod. Especially not one already whispered to be prideful"
He lifted his goblet and drank at last.
"To silence," he said. He was very confident in his plan. Now that Anastasia did not have any power what could she do? As long as this narrative move, her reputation would be ruined and peace would return to the kingdom. He had done the king a big favor this time and he expects to get a huge reward.
The rumors moved faster than any royal decree ever could.
In the royal city, they spilled from the lips of merchants in the marketplace. Read full story at Novᴇl_Fire(.)net
"She never let him touch her, you know. Cold as the mountain snows, they say. What king would endure that?"
"Ahh! To think I thought she was kind," a woman rolled her eyes. Thinking of all the time the Anastasia had host public feast to feed the orphans and widows.
At the city gates, the guards chuckled beneath their helms.
"Turns out the Queen was no wife at all—just a jeweled statue in the palace. Looks like the King’s finally rid of her."
"I heard the mistress is kind and beautiful,_ another guard said.
"That’s right, any man would know how to choose," the first guard said.
In temples, worshippers whispered behind clasped hands.
"She defied both crown and duty. A woman like that is cursed. Best she stays far from the throne."
Even in distant provinces, where snow still clung to the rooftops, travelers and nobles repeated the tale. Each telling chipped away at Anastasia’s dignity, painting her in colors she never wore—arrogance, bitterness, jealousy.
And in the absence of a public defense, silence only confirmed the rumors.
Royal Council Chamber
Palace, Day Three After the Feast
The King sat in his chair, fingers drumming against the lion-carved armrest. His face was grim, shadowed by a sleepless night.
Lord Vellum, his most trusted advisor, stood calmly by the council table. He had waited for the right moment.
"Your Majesty," he said carefully, "the court is restless. Nobles are beginning to ask what will come next."
King Edward did not speak.
Vellum continued, voice smooth. "The people must see that Your Majesty has not been weakened by this scandal. The throne must not look... abandoned."
"What do you suggest?" the King asked at last.
Vellum bowed his head slightly, hiding the satisfaction in his eyes. "Lord Williams’ first daughter. Lady Rosalind. She is young, modest, and well liked among the noble houses. Her family has long been loyal. She would bring strength and public favor to the Crown."
The King’s eyes narrowed Lord vellum had mentioned this marriage before but he thought that given the unfavourably rumors about him, Lord Williams might be unwilling but things had changed now. Yet, he hesitated. "Is it not too soon?"
After all, no one knew better than him that the rumors was false, he worried that Anastasia will slap evidence against the rumors.
"Delay invites instability," Vellum replied. "Already, factions stir beneath the surface. Your enemies will not waste time, especially now. You must act faster."
The King leaned back, his thoughts hidden behind a cold mask.
"Send word to Lord Williams," he said at last. "Arrange for his daughter to be presented within the week."
Vellum bowed deeply. "As you command, Your Majesty."