"All rise for Her Royal Majesty, Queen Juliana Charlotte VanderSchee of Arcana." 

Juliana stepped out of the wings and walked slowly across the dais at the front of the room at the sound of Lord Hewkin's voice, consciously blocking out the sound of the cameras clicking in front of her. She, along with several key members of the Arcanese Parliament, was holding a major press conference to answer the public's concerns about the previous nights events. 

Even though the capital had been declared safe enough for her to return, she still felt an odd sense of unease at having come back so quickly. She'd had the chance to speak to the American President earlier that morning, and to her bewilderment, he had been totally unaware of Nelson's key role in ending the riots. He hadn't been following his country's orders... that meant he'd silenced the protests completely of his own accord, using his own resources. Psychologically, politically, and financially, this was a deeply unsatisfying explanation. Juliana was still beset by a strong feeling that she didn't have all the facts. 

Sitting down on her tall wooden throne, Juliana did her best to relax into the soft seat cushion. She ran her fingers along the intricate carvings on the armrests- carvings that had supposedly been done by King Arcan himself. It was said that the reason the throne was carved directly into the wall was that it was originally a dent made when Arcan was thrown during a brawl. Build your kingdom from the spite of your enemies. Though probably apocryphal, Juliana couldn't say the story wasn't inspiring at a time like this. How simple things must've been back then, when the most embarrassing thing that could happen to you in court was being slammed into your own wall. 

"Can we get an official statement on what exactly happened last night? Do you have a response to the allegations made against you in your sister's viral video?" A reporter shoved her way to the front of the crowd, shouting her questions in order to be heard over the noise. Juliana looked over at Lord Serpentine, who sat in the chair to her left- as her Public Relations Minister, correspondence with the press was usually his responsibility. He subtly shook his head, looking at her expectantly. He was right. It was her image in question... these concerns were her responsibility to address. 

Juliana cleared her throat, straightening her back. The room fell silent almost immediately in anticipation of her response. Public speaking usually never made her nervous, but she could feel her heart pounding beneath the medals on her deep red coat. She felt the weight of the diamond tiara on her head more distinctly than ever before. Crowns were usually reserved for very formal occasions, but Juliana wasn't displeased with her decision to wear one today. She needed the air of dignity and authority it conferred. What she said next could very well determine the future of her regime. 

"Project PROB and the Order of Chance have been working extensively to identify the perpetrators of last night's brutal disturbances. We have reason to believe that the civilians who carried out the attacks were temporarily Jacked, and our agents are currently on the task of finding the Jackers." 

"Harry Evarbor and the former princess Ravenna VanderSchee have garnered significant public support after their heartfelt video message about the execution of Roy Evarbor. Have Your Majesty's feelings about the decision to kill the man known as the Eagle changed in the aftermath of-" 

"No," Juliana said coldly, forcing herself to keep her eyes forward and away from Lord Evarbor. The only path now was forward- she could not afford to look like she was second guessing herself...even if she was. She could not allow the mind-numbing guilt she felt at the sight of Harry's haunted eyes to show through. "As Queen of Arcana, I know that my orders impact more than just the people they directly name. Every criminal I have punished leaves behind family, friends... I am well aware of the collateral damage that comes with-"

"Collateral damage? To us, a bereaved lover and a child who has had his role model and mentor cruelly ripped away from him are unfortunate human beings, but to our great and noble Queen, they are but collateral damage."

Juliana's eyes flitted over the crowd, looking for the source of the voice that had dared to interrupt her in a public forum. A sense of disgust brewed within her as her words were twisted and weaponized against her. If only she had the chance to finish her sentence- to explain what she really meant. She could already see the "collateral damage" quote being taken wildly out of context, continuing and perhaps even justifying the previous night's events in the eyes of the Arcanese public...

The ranks of reporters and photographers parted for a well-dressed middle-aged man with a victorious smirk on his face. Juliana's hands flew to her face when she realized who it was. Alan Nelson, American Ambassador to Arcana. 

"My heart goes out to Ravenna and Harry," Nelson announced passionately, pausing in front of Juliana's throne as he placed his hands over his chest for emphasis. In that moment, all of Juliana's illusions about the man shattered. She had once viewed his conduct as graceful and intelligent, but she now saw the air of falseness that surrounded his every action. Every gesture, every facial expression, every movement was carefully scripted to craft whatever image he wanted to project in the moment. As a royal who had grown up around such techniques, Juliana couldn't believe she had never noticed it before... the kind, avuncular Ambassador that Project PROB knew and loved was a fiction. Who knew what kind of man the real Alan Nelson was... 

"Yet, though I may sympathize with the cause, as a representative of the United States of America, I cannot condone civil unrest in an allied country as important as the Kingdom of Arcana. That is why, as Her Majesty and her associates were so judiciously fleeing the city, I arranged for the riots to be put down." 

He was making her look so irresponsible! Juliana's confrontational nature begged her to protest, but she knew that nothing she said could make the situation better. Nelson was both playwright and actor. He could weave the threads of fact into whatever story best suited his needs. And, much too late, Juliana was beginning to guess at what those needs were. 

"In this process, I discovered the true perpetrators of the attack: unsurprisingly, Ravenna VanderSchee was one of them. But, as we all learned during the altercations four years ago, the Raven has little Aptitude and is incapable of using the Power. Who, then, were the Jackers? I present to you, my niece and nephew, Felix and Farrah Nebulik." 

All eyes turned toward the doors to the chamber as they swung violently open, revealing two people dressed in the stolen Red Knight armor. Many adjustments had been made to the suits- probably the work of Maddie Thornton. Farrah's, understandably, was significantly tailored- none of the original Red Knights had been female- and both suits were now much lighter in design. The visors on the Red Knights' fireproof helmets were lifted, revealing the faces of Nelson's interns. Juliana remembered shaking their hands on their first day in Arcana, confused and mildly rankled by how often they seemed to bring up the legend of Nebulik. Nebulik. Nelson. How had she been so blind? 

"Are you suggesting, Ambassador, that you had something to do with the attacks?" Juliana rose from her throne, crossing her arms over her chest. "Were you using your political position to incite unrest in a foreign nation?" 

"On the contrary, I was just as surprised to learn of my interns' collaboration with your sister as you, Your Majesty," Nelson shrugged his shoulders innocently. But now that she knew what to look for, Juliana could see the lie written across his face as plain as day. He was a liar. A greedy pathological liar who had been after her throne all along. 

"At the same time, I cannot claim to be completely ingenuous in my purposes," Nelson chuckled. "I certainly had an ulterior motive in accepting the ambassadorship to Arcana. But it was not to destabilize the regime!" 

"Then what was it?" Juliana questioned, now only inches away from Nelson. "What is it that you really want, Ambassador?" 

"Only that which my family lost centuries ago," Nelson turned to the crowd, as if to confirm with them that his request was completely reasonable. "The title, the fortune, and the High Generalship in the Order of Chance that were taken from Lord Drosi Nebulik. I believe that by stopping the revolts and exposing the perpetrators despite my personal relation to them, I have proved my love for and loyalty to the great nation of Arcana." He enunciated his last few words for effect, lacing them with false passion. 

"Drosi Nebulik started the Black Plague. I thank you sincerely for your help last night, but I don't believe that blemish on human history can ever be made up for." Alan Nebulik was a dangerous enemy- perhaps the most dangerous enemy that Juliana had ever been up against. Roy's methods had been questionable at best, but at the core, he was a good man trying to better the world. Nelson, as Juliana now saw, was a wolf in sheep's clothing. He twisted words and facts like they were nothing, until everyone was following his version of the story, until everyone was playing his game. Either he wins or we lose. 

"This man turned in his own flesh and blood to save your throne! What is your motivation to deny him-" 

"Juliana, I think it is best that we go," Lord Hewkin tapped her on the shoulder before she could respond to the reporter's question, whispering discreetly in her ear. Juliana nodded her concurrence. 

"I am afraid Her Majesty has a multitude of duties to attend to, and I must conclude this conference. Parliament and the Order of Chance shall evaluate Ambassador Nelson's request and present our decision in the near future. Thank you." Lord Hewkin stood up, grabbing Juliana's wrist protectively as he led her toward the door at the side of the dais. 

"I, too, speak 'politician'." Juliana stopped in front of the door at the sound of Nelson's voice. "I know that 'the near future' means 'as good as never'. We Nebuliks have waited seven centuries for this, and we will wait no longer!" As he called after her, his tone grew more and more indignant. 

"Juliana. Let's go," Lord Hewkin pulled at her wrist in warning, but she remained frozen to the spot as if in a trance, unable to shake the feeling that if she left the room, something horrible would happen. 

"Some of you may be wondering where my niece and nephew have gone off to," Nelson smiled mysteriously. Sure enough, the space behind him where the Red Knights had once stood was empty. "Let me tell you: they are outside the only two exits to this room. You're in a small, packed chamber made mostly of wood, and they can produce endless quantities of fire. If I were you, I would think twice about leaving this room. You all have phones and access to the Internet- let me know once you've come to a decision on my High Generalship. Good day to you, Ministers of Arcana." With that, Nelson sauntered past a shocked Juliana with an almost giddy expression on his face. He pushed the door open at an excruciatingly slow pace, giving the ministers and members of the press a sarcastic little wave before exiting the room. 

......................

As Games of Chance was a critique of our polarized political system, this book is a critique of the poisonous "cancel culture" that's all over social media. Instances of people really doing wrong that need to be brought to our attention are drowned out by old, out-of-context quotes/exaggerated stories of honest celebrities whose names we unfairly tarnish. I hope that someday we as a society will stop doing what Nelson is currently doing to Juliana...