The Girl He Sold Returned As The King’s Mate Chapter 04
The public hearing was held in the Royal Castle’s grand assembly chamber.
Members of the Royal Council, inspectors, Royal Academy reviewers, and this year’s top candidates filled the seats on either side. Riverbend Pack’s Alpha sent a legal representative, acknowledging that while the crime occurred on his territory, royal appointments and cross-territory investigations fell under the Crown’s jurisdiction.
The protesters outside were allowed ten representatives to observe. News outlets were restricted to a delayed audio feed; witness video was blacked out to protect their identities.
When Adrian entered the chamber, he was still wearing that faded blue jacket.
Days of standing vigil in the square had left him looking pale and drawn, but it only made him seem more resolute.
He stood before Elliot and the investigative panel, his back ramrod straight.
“I will surrender my freedom to cooperate fully with this investigation.”
“I only ask that once this case is closed, the Crown act to restore the faith of ordinary students in the appointment system.”
Elliot offered no reply, only signaling for the Royal Justice Office to begin.
The first document presented was the cold case file from the Riverbend dock.
On June 16, thirteen years prior, Evelyn Hawthorne, the recognized daughter of a prominent Riverbend family, disappeared during the river festival.
The report was filed by Daniel Hawthorne.
The last person seen with her was Adrian Cole.
Adrian’s statement at the time claimed that Evelyn had chased a paper boat caught in the wind, climbed over the dock railing, and been swept away by the current.
After six months of searching, no body was ever found. Only a single shoe was recovered downstream.
The temporary freight ramp used that year was a blind spot for the dock’s security cameras. Adrian had thrown my coat into the river, and a scent-masking agent in the sedative had thrown off the tracking wolves, whose trail went cold at the water’s edge.
The case was eventually sealed, the cause of death listed as accidental drowning.
The chief investigator asked, “Adrian, is this the statement you gave at the time?”
“Yes.”
“Did you personally witness Evelyn fall into the water?”
“Yes.”
“How far away from her were you?”
“About ten meters.”
“Why did no one else see it happen?”
“The boat race had just started. The music was loud, the crowd was roaring. By the time I could shout for help, she was already gone.”
His answers were flawless, without a trace of hesitation.
He had clearly rehearsed this story a thousand times.
The chief investigator turned to Daniel.
“Did you ever suspect him?”
“Adrian was only thirteen.”
“He jumped into the river trying to save Evelyn and was sick for two weeks after. I had no reason to doubt him.”
I sat at Elliot’s right hand and said nothing.
Then the inspection team displayed the second file.
It was the Starlight Carnival’s secret acquisition ledger from that year.
On June 17, the carnival took possession of one young female on the south bank of Riverbend.
Approximately nine years old. Spoke with a Riverbend accent. Identified herself as Evelyn Hawthorne.
Seller claimed both parents were deceased and that she could be signed directly onto the touring labor roster.
The girl was unconscious and had only one shoe.
Sale price: twenty-two thousand dollars.
A murmur rippled through the observers’ gallery.
But Adrian’s expression remained unchanged.
“Plenty of people have the same name.”
“A ledger kept by a criminal syndicate proves nothing. It certainly doesn’t connect that girl to me.”
“I’ve never even been to Riverbend’s south bank.”
The inspector didn’t argue. He simply displayed the restored vehicle logs from the ferry company’s paper archives.
At 11:40 p.m. on the night of the festival, a green truck belonging to the Starlight Carnival boarded a ferry from the north bank.
The vehicle manifest, when compared to the one from its arrival, now listed one additional passenger: a young girl, accompanied by a boy of about thirteen or fourteen.
The boy couldn’t pay the nighttime surcharge in cash, so he left his Royal Academy affiliated school ID card as collateral.
Card number: D-19.
The investigator pulled Adrian’s school file onto the main screen.
At thirteen, he had attended Riverbend Preparatory School.
The identification card issued to him that year was, indeed, D-19.
For a split second, Adrian’s breath caught.
“I lost that card before the river festival.”
“I didn’t report it because I was afraid the school would charge me for a replacement, and I couldn’t risk losing my scholarship.”
The councilor in charge of appointments frowned.
“A lost card is still not a conviction.”
At last, I rose and walked to the evidence table.
Adrian looked up at me.
It was the first time he had truly studied my face.
I didn’t ask if he recognized me.
I simply set a folded green paper boat on the table.
“Do you remember how the old Riverbend ferry system worked?”
“Before the last boat of the night, the horn sounds three times.”
“First, to secure the vehicles. Second, to verify the manifest. And the third, just before departure.”
I unfolded the bottom of the paper boat.
Inside, a single sentence was written.
*When the third horn sounds, the little boat can never turn back.*
That was what Adrian had whispered in my ear to stop me from screaming, just before he pressed the wolfsbane-soaked cloth over my mouth and nose.
No one but the two of us had ever heard those words.
Adrian stared at the paper boat, and the color drained from his face.
He took an involuntary step back, the legs of his chair scraping sharply against the stone floor.
“Evelyn?”
His voice was a choked whisper. “How are you still alive?”
The chamber erupted.