Annie replayed the scene over and over. And yet, nothing. There wasn’t a single sign of foul play.

Her heart pounded. Her face paled, and panic crept into her voice. “No! This can’t be. It’s not true! That bitch Lois must have done something!”

She refused to believe otherwise. She would never drug herself. If it wasn’t Katelyn, then it had to be Lois. There was no other explanation. But no matter how many times they rewatched the footage, nothing suspicious surfaced.

Tears welled up in Lois’s eyes. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Countess Annie… I know you dislike me, but how could you frame me like this?”

Her delicate, sorrowful expression instantly won over the crowd. Sympathy filled their eyes as they looked at Lois.

Annie, however, refused to accept it. Slamming her hand against the table, she pointed straight at Lois and roared, “It has to be you, you scheming wench! What did you do? How did you drug the drink without it showing in the footage?”

She was frantic now. She knew that if the real culprit wasn’t found, her fate was sealed.

Desperation clawed at her. The more frantic she became, the more she lost control. She needed someone—anyone—to take the blame. If she could shift suspicion elsewhere, she might still salvage her place in high society. Otherwise, she would be branded with disgrace, and her fall from grace would be absolute.

Ryanna, usually composed and gentle, finally lost her patience. Her voice was calm, yet sharp as ice. “Annie, leave. Now.” Though she hadn’t shouted, the chill in her tone was unmistakable.

Annie’s mind reeled, and her vision blurred. She wanted to defend herself, to scream that she was telling the truth—but she had no proof. The helplessness crushed her.

Tears streamed down her face as she clung to Ryanna’s arm, sobbing, “Ryanna, you have to believe me!”

? g?ν?

But Ryanna didn’t spare her a glance. This celebration had been ruined because of Annie.

Enough was enough. Without hesitation, Ryanna turned to her guards. “Countess Annie is exhausted. Escort her out.”

“Ryanna!” Annie cried.

The soldiers closed in, quickly securing Annie as she writhed in an attempt to break free. Desperation filled her eyes as she turned to Ryanna, shaking her head vehemently. “Ryanna, please! You have to believe me—I’m not guilty! I’ve been framed!”

Annie’s gaze turned to Lois, burning with hatred. It was a look filled with such venom that it seemed she would tear Lois apart if given the chance. The wildness in her actions, her frenzied outbursts, had stripped away any semblance of grace, revealing a woman who now seemed more like a madwoman than a noblewoman.

Low murmurs spread through the crowd, whispers that pierced the air.

“She couldn’t even defend herself, and now she’s accusing others? What a farce.”

“Pathetic. This is beyond shameful,” another voice muttered in disgust. Though the words were barely audible, Ryanna could hear them clearly, each cutting through the tension like a knife.

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