Tamed by a tyrant

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Truth Wears a Mask**

I didn't sleep that night.

Not after the letter.

Not after the truth began uncoiling like a serpent from the shadows of my past.

My mother wasn't just a victim of circumstance.

She had been hunted.

And now I understood why the fire always haunted me—it wasn't just trauma.

It was memory.

It was warning.

* * *

The morning light felt different.

Sharper.

Like the world had tilted without asking my permission.

Lorenzo noticed my silence but didn't press.

Instead, before he left for council, he took my hand and said,

"When you're ready, I'll be here."

He kissed my forehead and walked away.

* * *

I summoned Odric to the private solar.

The old scrollkeeper entered with a bowed head and trembling fingers.

He didn't ask why I'd called him.

He already knew.

"Tell me about the stolen throne," I said quietly.

His eyes widened—but he didn't deny it.

He simply lowered himself onto the cushion and nodded once.

Then, he spoke.

* * *

"There was a queen," he began, "long before Lorenzo's father."

"Her name was Ivelyn. First of her bloodline. Her crown was not inherited—it was earned."

I listened in silence.

"She united the seven territories. Not through war. But with knowledge. With truth. She discovered that the reigning king—King Tareth—had stolen the throne through forged birthright."

Odric's hands trembled.

"She revealed the truth. Declared herself rightful heir. And the people supported her."

"But she's not in the royal archives," I said.

"No," he whispered. "Because they erased her."

* * *

"She ruled for three years," Odric continued. "During that time, she passed laws to protect history. She built the Veiled Order to preserve knowledge outside the crown's control."

Ivelyn…

A queen lost to time.

My stomach tightened.

"And what happened to her?"

"She was betrayed," Odric whispered. "By those closest to her. One night, the palace caught fire. She vanished in the flames. Her body was never found. But a new king rose the next week—Renault the Reclaimer. He claimed she had gone mad and named himself savior."

"And the people believed him?"

"They were made to," Odric said. "Anyone who questioned it vanished."

My throat tightened.

Ivelyn had ruled.

Been erased.

And now I was being hunted by the same shadows that silenced her.

* * *

Odric stood slowly.

"There's more," he said. "But I cannot speak it aloud. Not yet. There are still ears in the walls."

He reached into his sleeve and handed me a sealed scroll.

The wax bore a symbol I hadn't seen before—an eye, surrounded by seven stars.

"She passed this to the Order," he said. "They've been waiting for a queen brave enough to open it."

* * *

I didn't open it right away.

Not until the sun had set.

Not until my guards were dismissed.

Not until I lit every candle in the room and locked every door.

Then I broke the seal.

Inside, written in fading ink, was this:

> "The crown is not forged in gold, but in silence.

> If you wear it too long, you forget your name beneath it.

> But if you remove it too quickly, they will cut your throat before you speak.

>

> Rule them, if you must.

> But never let them forget who built the throne they sit on.

> The truth is your inheritance.

>

> Let it burn if it must.

> But do not let it be buried."

It wasn't signed.

But it didn't need to be.

It was her voice.

Queen Ivelyn.

And I felt her blood in mine.

* * *

I paced for hours after that.

The truth had changed everything.

But it also gave me clarity.

If Ivelyn had been my ancestor… then the fire wasn't just about silencing my mother.

It was about erasing a line of queens who told the truth.

A bloodline the crown feared.

* * *

At dawn, I went to Lorenzo.

He was reading dispatches at his desk when I entered.

"I need to show you something," I said.

He looked up—and in his eyes, I saw that he already knew it was serious.

I gave him the scroll.

Watched him read every word.

He didn't speak until the end.

Then he placed the scroll down.

And said:

"Does this mean you were meant to rule?"

"No," I said. "It means I was meant to remember."

He stood and crossed to me.

"I don't care what blood you carry," he said softly. "You are my queen—by choice. Not by right."

"And what if I claim both?"

"Then I'll stand behind you," he said. "Even if the world burns for it."

* * *

Elira was the third person I told.

She didn't blink. Didn't gasp.

She simply drew her sword and said:

"Then we fight the right enemy now."

I nodded.

And whispered:

"Let's find out how deep the rot goes."

* * *

For the next seven days, we quietly questioned every older servant, scribe, and steward who had served during the reign before Lorenzo's father.

Most claimed ignorance.

Some whispered half-truths.

But one—an old gardener named Bram—told us everything.

He'd seen Queen Ivelyn.

As a boy, he'd carried her water. Watched her study with a woman he called "Lady Sera."

"My mother," I breathed.

He nodded.

"She taught the queen to see danger before it came. She taught her the silence of snakes."

"And what happened to her?"

"She fled after the fire. Disappeared."

That confirmed it.

She hadn't died in the flames.

She had gone into hiding.

And now… she was gone.

But her legacy remained.

In me.

* * *

I stood in the Hall of Crowns that night.

Each portrait of past rulers loomed overhead—men and women with painted glory and whitewashed sins.

There was no portrait of Queen Ivelyn.

No mention of her name.

But I didn't need her picture.

I had her truth.

And I was done pretending.

The court wanted silence?

They'd get a roar.

* * *

At the next council session, I stood at the head of the table.

Not beside Lorenzo.

Ahead of him.

"My lords and ladies," I began. "You know me as queen by marriage. But it's time you knew me by blood."

I laid the scroll on the table.

Then unrolled it for all to see.

"I am Zara. Daughter of Sera. Descendant of Ivelyn the True. The queen you erased."

Gasps. Murmurs. One noble dropped their goblet.

I continued:

"You've built your thrones on silence. I intend to rule by truth. And if any of you would challenge that…"

I looked each of them in the eye.

"…know this: I will not wear a crown that hides my name. And I will not allow history to forget us again."

* * *

There was silence.

And then, slowly, Lorenzo stood.

He walked to my side.

And said,

"Long live the Queen."

Elira raised her blade.

"Long may she reign."

And the others followed.

Even those who feared me.

Because they had no choice now.

The truth was out.

And it wore my name.