They Locked Me Away for What I Knew—Sixteen Years Later, My Daughter Stepped Onto the Wheel
If my daughter fell, the court would laugh.
If she stayed standing, a king could lose his crown.
For sixteen years, I had been locked inside the Sainte-Agathe tower for a secret the palace thought was buried with me.
Then one morning, my old friend unlocked my cell and whispered four words:
“Your daughter is on the Wheel.”
I had ten minutes.
Ten minutes to escape.
Ten minutes to reach the throne room.
Ten minutes before Elise revealed the secret we had spent years hiding in coded messages.
I reached into the wall beside my bed and pulled out the three things that had kept me alive for sixteen years:
The dead queen’s signet ring.
A strip of numbers.
And a key no jailer knew existed.
Then the palace crowd suddenly roared below.
The Wheel had started turning.
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And my daughter had just stepped onto it.
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