The Abandoned Luna's Journey to Power Chapter 308: Seventy-Thirty

Prince Adam's POV:

I frowned and was about to step out of the carriage when Cindy pressed a hand to my arm.

"I'll go," she said.

She rose to her feet, brushing the folds of her skirt smooth, and offered me a steady, assured smile. "It seems Isabella has finally finished reviewing the accounts," she said lightly. "You'd best head to the study. There's no doubt a mountain of papers waiting for you."

"I'm worried. I know how bad her temper can be."

"If I can't handle her, I'll come and get you." She winked. "Relax. I've done this before."

I watched her walk away, steady and sure of herself. I shook my head, but I couldn't stop smiling.

Well, at least this family finally has a woman who can take charge.

Cindy's POV:

Before heading to Rose Palace, I stopped by the prison where Maria was being held.

Julian works fast. The proud manager now sat in the corner, her hands tied behind her back. A rag was stuffed in her mouth. Two royal guards stood nearby, faces cold and still.

"Has anyone been here?" I asked.

"No, Your Highness," one guard replied quietly. "Not even a fly has gotten in. We've sealed the shop under the excuse of inventory checks. No one can send word to Princess Margaret."

I nodded and left.

With their messengers cut off, it was time to visit the frightened little pet.

The moment I stepped into Rose Palace, I thought a storm had blown through.

Fine vases lay shattered on the floor. Silk pillows were tossed everywhere. Several royal attendants cowered in a corner, shaking so hard they could barely breathe.

Isabella sat on a couch. Her hair, once perfectly arranged, had come loose. A few strands hung by her face. She looked pale and furious. Her chest rose and fell sharply.

When she saw me walk in, her eyes, which had been burning with anger, suddenly turned red.

The next second, she burst into loud sobs.

"Cindy! They bullied me! How could they treat me like this!"

With that single cry, all of Isabella's royal dignity disappeared. She didn't look like a queen anymore. She looked like a little girl who had run home in tears to complain to an adult.

I sighed and waved my hand. "Everyone out."

The royal attendants rushed away as if they had just been pardoned.

Only Martha, Isabella's most trusted lady-in-waiting, remained. The two royal treasurers I had brought with me also stayed behind.

I walked over and took a clean handkerchief from my sleeve, handing it to her. "Stop crying. Your makeup is a mess. Did you finish checking the accounts?"

Isabella grabbed the handkerchief and blew her nose without caring how she looked. She sniffed and said between sobs, "I haven't checked this year's accounts, but I have reviewed the past records. The real ledgers show that just two years ago, the shop made 130,000 gold coins! 130,000! And that wicked old snake Margaret kept coming to the palace every few weeks, crying about being broke. She said the shop needed remodeling. She said they needed money for new stock. She kept asking me for subsidies! I was such a fool!"

The more she talked, the angrier she became. She reached for the chalice beside her, ready to throw it.

I quickly pressed down on her hand.

"Enough. That's an antique chalice. If you break it, we're the ones paying for it."

I helped her up from the couch. "Look at you. Where's the powerful queen everyone fears? Come on. Let's go to the salon. Have some wine. Eat something. Let the treasurers finish the numbers. I'll review everything myself. And I need to see the contract you signed back then."

"What's the point of looking at the contract?" Isabella sniffed, her eyes full of fear and doubt. "It's Margaret. She tricked all of my money away and left nothing behind. Even if we know the truth now, what can we do? Can we really get that money back?"

I looked at her. She was already backing down before the fight had even started. It was a little funny. It was also a little sad.

"Why wouldn't we get it back?" I said firmly as I guided her toward the salon. "It's your money. Not only will we take it back, we'll make them return every last coin—with interest."

Isabella stopped and stared at me stupidly.

Then, seemingly determined, she firmly grasped my hand. "Cindy, if you can help me get the money back, I'll split it with you. Half! No—70-30. You take 70. I'll take 30!"