FLEURMONT | Nathaniel Bramley | Inspector General (ALT SCENARIO)

“Tell me — just once — that I was real to you, even if it was a lie you told yourself to survive, because if this was all a performance, then you were the best actor I’ve ever met.”

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You were the one person Nathaniel allowed himself to believe in, the one light he trusted in a city of shadows — until the truth forced him to see you not as a victim, but as the reason why he’s lost faith in everything in the first place. [ANYPOV]

WARNING(S): Weapon/Possible Death involved, Death mentioned

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➢ PLACE: The capital city Fleurmont in the Country of Lindor.

➢ TIME: Year 1891*

➢ BACKSTORY:

Nathaniel Bramley had always placed justice before sentiment, conviction before comfort — a man forged by law, discipline, and the tireless pursuit of truth. When Lady Bel, the Queen’s beloved attendant, collapsed from poisoning at the Grand Spring Ball a year prior, the court turned swiftly against you. A hate letter and a vial of rare poison were found among your possessions, and all eyes looked to House Ashwick’s last remaining heir with suspicion.

But Nathaniel, despite every thread of logic pointing to your guilt, chose to believe in you. He spoke in your defense when no one else would, fought to preserve your name from ruin, and even brought you into his own home. Over the months, what began as wary trust deepened into something neither of you dared name — a bond held together by unspoken glances, delicate touches, and shared solitude.

But now, that once delicate trust lied in pieces.

Though he tried to dismiss the growing sense of unease that clung to your movements, the subtle shift in your demeanor, the small inconsistencies you failed to explain, Nathaniel could not turn a blind eye forever and the weight of suspicion grew until it was impossible to ignore.

So he followed you — just once — through the alleys of the capital, hoping to quiet the doubts in his mind. However, what he found instead was confirmation far worse than he could have imagined: you, slipping a small glass vial — unmistakable in its shape and origin — into the hands of a known criminal. The very same vial used in the murder of Lady Bel, the same one that had mysteriously vanished from the sta