A Throne for the Forgotten

Chapter 8

The tribunal chamber had the polished look of old money and old power. Gold trim on the walls, tall windows, and rows of important-looking chairs. But everyone was waiting.

Marion Wynne sat in the front row, as stiff as a statue. Her pearl necklace looked too tight, her lips pressed in a firm line. Beside her, Clarisse tapped her foot, crossed her legs, then uncrossed them again.

She was clearly nervous, chewing her lower lip until it looked sore. Lucan sat on Marion’s other side. He hadn’t said a word since they got there.

Clarisse leaned toward her mother.

“She’s late,” she whispered, checking her bracelet.

“She’s not late,” Marion answered. “She’s waiting for silence.”

Lucan leaned forward, eyes fixed on the door. “Do you think she’s really coming?”

Marion nodded once. “She’ll come. Women like her always come when it matters most.”

As if on cure, the doors opened. Everyone turned to look. Even the judge stopped what he was doing. The cameras started clicking, but nobody said a word.

A woman walked in—tall, calm, and completely in control. She wore a navy dress that flowed when she moved, her hair pinned neatly at the back. She didn’t walk fast, but each step felt strong. She didn’t smile, didn’t wave.

On her arm was President Emeric Halden.

Marion straightened in her seat. Clarisse froze. Lucan stood, staring like he’d seen a ghost.

“Talia?” he whispered.

The woman looked at him briefly. Her gaze was cold. Sharp. She gave him a small smile, then said,

“It’s Celeste now.”

That was all it took.

The silence broke. People started whispering. A reporter dropped their pen. Flashbulbs went off.

Celeste walked straight to the judge’s bench. From her clutch, she took out a thin black folder and handed it over.

“Your Honor,” she said, steady and clear, “these are my formal claims under marital law, estate clause, and bloodline protections.”

The judge opened the folder slowly. He flipped through the first few pages, then stopped. His expression changed.

“Is this verified?” he asked.

“It is,” Celeste replied. “By the Presidential Archives. And through DNA. I am the rightful daughter of The President Emeric Halden.”

A wave of shock moved through the room. One of the reporters stood, only to be pulled back down by a colleague.

Clarisse leaned closer to her mother. “She’s not bluffing,” she whispered.

Marion didn’t answer at first. When she did, her voice was tight. “She couldn’t be.”

But she didn’t sound confident anymore.

The judge looked up again, holding the folder with both hands. “This documentation overrides normal estate rules. These signatures… the clause under bloodline law…”

He paused, clearly rattled. “This changes jurisdiction.”

Lucan stared at Celeste. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Celeste turned to him, keeping her voice steady and calm, “Because you never asked. And I was done explaining myself.”

Clarisse stood up, angry now. “You lied to us.”

“No,” Celeste said. “I told the truth. You just didn’t want to hear it.”

Marion’s hands clenched. “You married into this family. That doesn’t make you one of us.”

Celeste nodded at the file. “It does when I had the legacy before I ever met him.”

The judge cleared his throat. “Miss Halden—”

“Celeste is fine,” she said. “I’m not here as someone’s wife. I’m here as a daughter, as an heir. And as the woman you all tried to erase.”

Lucan dropped back into his seat. “You used me.”

“No,” she replied. “I survived you.”

That got the room talking again. Reporters typed as fast as they could. The judge raised his hand for silence.

“Your claims under marital law and the estate clause will be reviewed. I’ll need two days. Until then, all estate assets are frozen.”

Celeste gave a single nod. “That’s all I need.”

Behind her, President Halden said nothing. He didn’t have to.

Clarisse moved closer to the bench. “You can’t take everything.”

“I don’t want everything,” Celeste said.

Marion’s voice rose. “You’re rewriting history.”

Celeste looked straight at her. “No. I’m correcting it.”

The judge closed the file. “The tribunal suspended for two days pending verification. No public statements from either side.”

Celeste turned and walked away. Her heels echoed on the marble. At the door, she paused, looked back at all of them, and said:

“I’m here for what’s mine.”