Chapter 560
“So, you’re Esme–the violinist from the royal gala?”
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Maxwell stepped forward, his sharp gaze fixed intently on her, every step laced with pressure.
“Yes, Minister.”
Caitlin bowed politely, her voice calm despite the faint warning bell in her head.
She still didn’t know exactly who this man was, but the way everyone addressed him made it clear he held real power.
“You played beautifully that night. Who taught you to play?”
He was starting with small talk, seemingly casual. But Caitlin could feel the trap being laid.
Was he also a violin enthusiast? Would he suddenly ask her to perform again?
“My mother taught me,” she replied.
“Oh? Then your mother must’ve been a violinist herself?”
Maxwell continued to study her face. Caitlin kept her head lowered slightly—enough to hide behind her bangs and long lashes, only the tip of her nose visible.
“She wasn’t a professional. It was just a hobby.”
“Interesting. But that’s not what we found when we looked into your background.”
Maxwell’s voice dropped ever so slightly, the tension tightening like a noose.
“You were born in S Country, into a musical family. Your mother was a violinist. You inherited her musical talent and studied the violin from an early age. But when you were twelve, you injured your wrist in a riding accident and could never play again. That’s why you became Federico’s assistant. So tell me, was it really you playing that night at the palace?”
Caitlin’s stomach dropped.
They had investigated Esme’s background. In detail.
A background she herself barely knew, because when she agreed to take on this identity, she had only gotten the surface–level details.
Now, her earlier answers had completely contradicted what Maxwell just laid out.
He was testing her.
And she had just failed.
2:26 pm
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Forcing herself to stay composed, Caitlin tried to recover. “Minister, it’s true I injured my hand at twelve, but I was able to recover over time. The night of the gala, our violinist had an accident, and I stepped in last minute. I was the one performing. If you don’t believe me, you’re welcome to test me on the spot.”
Maxwell chuckled.
The sound was wrong–offbeat and cold. Caitlin’s heart skipped.
That laugh was not amusement. It was the sound of a hunter cornering prey.
“I don’t doubt your skill,” he said. “Even His Majesty asked you to perform for him alone, didn’t he? No, I laughed because… you’re lying.”
The amusement vanished. His gaze turned dark, calculated. He wasn’t just suspicious—he was
certain.
Caitlin’s stomach twisted tighter.
‘I am not lying, Minister.”
‘Oh, really? So I’m the liar now?”
Maxwell took a step closer. “Let me tell you something–I made up part of that story just now. Esme was never injured riding horses. Her mother wasn’t a violinist–she was an ordinary woman. Esme studied orchestral instruments, yes, but never specialized in violin. She graduated from a prestigious conservatory and was assigned to Federico as his assistant during her internship. That’s the real Esme.”
Caitlin went ice cold from head to toe.
Everything he’d said before–all of it–had been a trap. He had deliberately fabricated parts of Esme’s backstory to bait her.
And she had walked right into it.
It was a critical oversight–one she hadn’t anticipated when agreeing to take on Esme’s identity. If she had known things would escalate like this, she would’ve memorized every last detail of Esme’s life,
Now, she was cornered.
“Nothing to say?”
Maxwell’s tone was laced with mockery. He was savoring this. Waiting for her to crack.
Caitlin forced a calm breath.
“I apologize, Minister. Is my background really worth your attention? You’re the Minister of Justice.
:27 pm
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You must have far more important matters to attend to than investigating my personal history. I assume you brought me here because of the Prince’s attack, yes?”
She lowered her posture, deflecting, trying to steer the conversation away from her identity.
But Maxwell didn’t answer.
Instead, he walked toward her slowly, deliberately.
Caitlin instinctively stepped back until her spine hit the wall.
He reached up and took a lock of her hair, bringing it to his nose.
The subtle, almost languid motion made her stomach churn.
Her hands clenched tightly into fists at her sides.
f this man dared do anything out of line, she wouldn’t hesitate to knock him flat.
But he didn’t touch her further.
nstead, he yanked the strand of hair free from her scalp.
Minister, what are you doing?”
The pain on her scalp wasn’t much–but her alarm spiked.
‘We’ll find out soon enough if you’re really Esme.”
His voice was low and dangerous.
It was clear now: he knew she wasn’t Esme. And he planned to prove it.
I’ve heard about this new technology–advanced disguise techniques. Some say it’s possible to alter a person’s appearance completely. You ever heard of that?”
Maxwell leaned in, his gaze drilling into her. He reached again toward her face, this time clearly intending to check for a disguise.
Caitlin’s heart thundered. She could feel the danger pressing in from every angle.
Then, without warning, the door slammed open.
“Minister!”
Utah entered with several royal guards.
Maxwell froze mid–motion, his hand shifting to the wall beside Caitlin’s head, pretending as if he hadn’t been about to inspect her face.
2:27 pm
He turned sharply, eyes narrowing.
“Secretary Ro, what is the meaning of this?”
“His Majesty has sent us. We’re here to escort Miss Esme.”
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Utah’s voice was firm and authoritative. He’d clearly seen Maxwell pinning Esme to the wall. But instead of accusing him, he let the implication hang in the air.
Caitlin felt the breath return,to her lungs.
The King had sent people for her. She was getting out of here.
“Esme? I don’t know who you’re talking about. Get out,” Maxwell snapped, unwilling to yield.
But Utah didn’t move. He stepped to the side.
And then, the sound of wheels rolling over tile filled the room.
King Leif VI entered, guided by an attendant. His face was cold as ice.
His eyes flicked immediately to Maxwell. Then to the woman behind him.
“Why did you summon Esme here?”
Maxwell straightened but didn’t retreat. “Your Majesty. I followed legal protocol. I had reason to believe she might be connected to the attack on Prince Magnus.”
“She is not,” Leif VI said flatly. “She saved my son’s life. I was on my way to personally reward her.”
Maxwell’s gaze shifted, landing back on Caitlin.
Now his curiosity was fully piqued.
The King himself had come–for her?
How… interesting.