Third-person pov

For a long moment after Vale stopped moving, Jella just stood there, completely still, as if her body had forgotten how to react. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, her breath coming out in short, shaky bursts as her eyes remained fixed on the man lying at her feet. The silence in the room felt too loud, pressing against her ears in a way that made it hard to think clearly, and for the first time since she had driven the blade into him, her mind began to catch up with what she had done.

The anger that had consumed her moments ago was still there, but it was no longer the only thing she felt. Something colder had crept in, something sharp and suffocating that wrapped around her chest and tightened with every passing second.

Panic.

It did not hit her all at once. It started small, like a quiet thought at the back of her mind, but then it grew quickly, spreading through her entire body until she could feel it in the way her fingers trembled slightly at her sides. Her gaze dropped slowly to her hands, and the sight of the blood staining her skin made her stomach twist in a way she did not expect. She had killed him. She had actually done it, and as much as she did not regret it, not even for a second, she knew that this was not something she could afford to leave as it was.

Electra was coming.

That thought snapped something into place inside her head, and her breathing hitched as her eyes widened just slightly. Electra had made it very clear that she wanted to see her father. She had forced Jella to release him, had threatened her without hesitation, and had promised that she would return.

If Electra walked into this room and saw Vale like this, lying in his own blood, there would be no explaining it away. There would be no talking her way out of it. Jella knew exactly what would happen, and the image that formed in her mind was enough to make her chest tighten even more.

She would die.

Or worse.

"Think," Jella muttered under her breath, her voice barely steady as she forced herself to move. "Think."

Her eyes moved quickly around the room, taking in every detail, every drop of blood, every misplaced object, and the blade lying dangerously close to Vale’s body. Everything about the scene screamed what had just happened, and there was no time to waste. Without giving herself another second to hesitate, she turned sharply and rushed toward the bathroom connected to the room, her steps quick and unsteady as she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The bright light in the bathroom made everything worse. The blood on her hands looked darker under the light, thicker, and more real, and the stains on her dress were impossible to ignore now. They spread across the fabric in uneven patches, soaking into the material in a way that made it clear there was no fixing it.

"Damn it," she hissed quietly as she moved toward the sink.

Her hands shook slightly as she turned on the tap, and the moment the cold water hit her skin, she let out a quiet breath, watching as the blood began to wash away. It swirled down the drain in thin red streams, disappearing as if it had never been there, but the sight did nothing to calm her. She grabbed the soap quickly and began to scrub her hands harder than necessary, her fingers pressing into her skin as if she could erase what she had done just by cleaning herself properly.

Her thoughts were still racing, jumping from one problem to another without stopping, and no matter how hard she tried to focus, everything felt too fast.

Electra, the guards, the council, the cameras.

The cameras.

Her movements slowed for a brief second as that thought settled in her mind, and her head lifted slightly as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. There were security cameras in the palace. If anyone checked them and saw her entering Vale’s room, everything would fall apart before she even had the chance to fix it.

"No," she whispered to herself, shaking her head slightly as she rinsed her hands quickly and reached for a towel. "That won’t happen."

She wiped her hands dry before turning her attention to her face, stepping closer to the mirror as she took in her reflection. There was blood on her cheek, mixing with the burn mark that was already there, making it look worse than it had before. Her jaw tightened at the sight, and without wasting time, she splashed water on her face, wiping at her skin with a cloth until there was no visible trace left. The water dripped down her neck and soaked into the collar of her dress, but she did not care. All that mattered was getting rid of any evidence.

When she finally stepped back, her eyes scanned her reflection again, and although she looked cleaner, her gaze dropped to her dress almost immediately. The fabric was ruined, stained beyond repair, and there was no way she could walk out like this without raising suspicion.

"I need to get rid of it," she muttered quietly.

The solution came to her instantly. Burn it. That was the easiest way to make sure it disappeared completely. Her mind was starting to settle now, the panic slowly being replaced with focus as she turned and walked back into the room.

The moment her eyes landed on Vale’s body again, her chest tightened slightly, but this time, she forced herself to push the feeling aside. There was no time for hesitation and no time for second thoughts. She needed to fix this.

Her gaze moved slowly across the room, taking in the position of the body, the amount of blood, and the blade on the floor. Everything pointed directly to her, and that was something she could not allow.

She needed someone else.

The thought came to her so naturally that it almost felt obvious. If someone else took the blame, if someone else confessed, then no one would question it too deeply, not if the story made sense, and she would make sure it did.

Without wasting another second, she turned and walked out of the room, her expression already shifting back into something calm and controlled. The guards outside straightened immediately when they saw her, but none of them spoke, and that was exactly how she wanted it.

"Bring me a servant," Jella said, her voice steady and firm. "Now."

There was no hesitation. One of the guards nodded quickly and left, while the other remained where he was, standing stiffly as Jella waited. Her fingers tapped lightly against her arm as the seconds passed, her impatience growing, but her mind remained focused.

When the guard returned with a young servant, Jella’s eyes moved to the girl immediately. She was young, far too young, and it was obvious from the way her hands trembled that she had no idea why she had been brought here. Her eyes darted nervously between Jella and the guards, and her entire posture screamed fear.

"Come with me," Jella said simply before turning and walking back into the room without waiting.

The servant hesitated for a brief moment before following, and the second she stepped inside and saw Vale’s body, she froze completely. A sharp gasp escaped her lips, and her hand flew to her mouth as her eyes widened in horror. Tears began to form almost instantly, and her entire body seemed to lock in place.

Jella watched her calmly before speaking. "Listen to me," she said, her voice low but firm, cutting through the girl’s shock. "You are going to do exactly as I say."

The servant shook her head immediately, her voice trembling as she spoke. "I didn’t do anything," she said quickly. "I swear, I..."

"You will say that you did," Jella interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument.

The girl froze.

"You will say that you killed him," Jella continued, her tone calm in a way that made it even more terrifying. "That you were angry. That you couldn’t stand the fact that he had a child with a phoenix, that he defiled the sacred customs of this kingdom, and that your anger drove you to do this."

The servant stared at her, her face pale, her entire body trembling now. "No," she whispered, shaking her head more violently this time. "No, I can’t..."

Jella stepped closer, her eyes hard as they locked on the girl’s. "You can," she said quietly. "And you will."

The servant’s lips trembled, tears slipping down her cheeks as she shook her head again. "Please," she begged softly. "I didn’t do anything. I can’t say that I did. They’ll kill me..."

When the girl continued to shake her head, her fear only growing, Jella’s expression darkened slightly. "If you refuse," she continued, her voice dropping lower, "I will have your entire family executed."

The servant went still.

Jella tilted her head slightly, watching her reaction with cold patience. "Your parents," she added. "Your siblings, every single one of them. I will make sure they are all beheaded, and you will live long enough to know that it was your fault."

The girl let out a broken sob, her knees almost giving out beneath her.

"Or," Jella said, her tone softening just slightly, "you can do this one thing, and I will make sure your family is taken care of. They will live well. They will be safe."

Silence filled the room. The servant’s breathing was shaky and uneven, her mind clearly racing as she tried to process everything at once. Tears continued to fall down her face as she stood there, trapped between two impossible choices.

Finally, after what felt like forever, she nodded. It was small, barely noticeable, but it was enough.

Jella smiled faintly.

"Good," Jella said softly, her tone returning to calm.

She picked up the blade from the floor and placed it into the girl’s shaking hands before stepping back and adjusting her position near the body. She moved around the room carefully, making small changes, making sure everything looked believable, and making sure nothing pointed back to her.

Once she was satisfied, she turned toward the door again and called for the guard. "Bring the chief of security," she said without hesitation. "And make sure the cameras in this wing are wiped. No one is to see who entered this room today."

The guard nodded quickly and left, and Jella finally allowed herself to take a slow breath as she looked around the room one last time. Everything was in place, and everything was under control.

By the time Electra arrived, there would be nothing left for her to question, and if there was one thing Jella knew how to do well, it was survive.