CHAPTER FORTY TWOThe grand hall was bright and cold, like it was built to crush people. Declan stood between two guards with his arms pinned, his ribs screaming each time he breathed. He could still hear that metallic click behind him, and he knew it was not a mistake. It was a warning.Jacob stepped closer, calm and proud, holding the royal stick like it belonged to him. “Remove the ring,” Jacob said. “Do it now.”Declan looked down at the emerald and rubbed it with his thumb. “No,” Declan said quietly. “Not that.”A murmur moved through the hall. Uncle Markus smiled like he had been waiting for the word. “He still thinks he is somebody,” Uncle Markus said.Jacob’s eyes sharpened. “You are nobody,” Jacob said to Declan. “You are a guest here. A thief in royal clothes.”“I did not steal anything,” Declan said.The royal grandmaster stared at him without warmth. “Obey,” the royal grandmaster said. “That is all you are required to do.”Declan lifted his head. “I already gave the card a

CHAPTER FORTY FOURDeclan left the palace like a ghost with a borrowed body. His ribs hurt each time he breathed. His lip was still split. His cheek still burned from the slaps. He could not even cover it properly because he did not have a clean shirt, and he did not have a jacket. He only had his hands and the shame that followed him like a shadow.Ms. Sonia had said he was not alone. But the street did not feel like that.The street felt like the world had agreed to forget him.He walked out of the palace gate and kept going, because staying inside meant being watched, and being watched meant being used. His feet dragged, and the soles of his shoes felt thin like paper. He kept thinking about the ring. About how empty his finger felt. Like a piece of him had been torn off, not the jewelry, but the last proof that he mattered to someone.He stopped at the first shop, a small supermarket with a bright sign and a tired cashier. He walked in and forced his voice to sound normal.“Please