<h4>Chapter 579: Logic Wrapped in Loyalty</h4>
Murmurs rippled around the table at the number, but he raised his hand, continuing.
"The first person on the list is the private secretary." His gaze darkened. "The night His Highness fell sick, he was the veryst person to visit him. After that, no one else entered the room. And by the next morning..." Christopher paused, letting the weight of it sink in. "...His Highness discovered clear signs of poisoning."
The room erupted in whispers, a few officers leaning forward in agreement. The private secretary was indeed thest confirmed visitor, it was hard to ignore.
"The second," Christopher pressed on, "is the Head Chef. He administers His Highness’s food and water personally. Every dish, every drink, passes through him, and only him. If anyone had the best chance to poison His Highness, it would be him."
He tapped a small control on the projector. A grainy video yed across the screen at the front of the room: the chef serving food with his own hands.
The officers leaned in closer. Tension thickened in the air, some exchanging uneasy looks.
"That’s worth taking note of," someone murmured, and several others nodded in agreement.
But Nnenna’s voice cut through the room, calm and firm.
"He can’t be the only suspect if food is considered the source of the poison."
Heads turned toward her. Christopher shot her a sharp nce, lips tightening. What does she know about investigations? He reminded himself of the n: ignore her, let her talk herself into silence.
"The next on my lis—"
"What do you think, Your Highness?" Rick’s voice rang out, slicing across Christopher’s sentence. His tone was curious, almost protective. He wanted to hear what Nnenna had in mind.
"Rick," Christopher snapped, his patience thinning, "I’m making my presentation. You’re out of line to interru—"
"If she has something to say, then let her say it," Rick interrupted again, his gaze steady.
Christopher’s grip tightened on his phone, knuckles whitening. His eyes darted to Daniel for backup, but instead of the expected reprimand, Daniel leaned back casually, lips curling in faint amusement.
"Why do you say so?" Daniel asked Nnenna, voice cool but deliberately inviting. He was one hundred percent certain she would embarrass herself if given the stage. Why not let her? His smirk widened. "Why do you say so?" he pressed again.
Nnenna caught the smugness in his expression but didn’t flinch. She lifted her chin and spoke clearly.
"The Head Chef isn’t the only one who serves His Highness. Since I came here, I’ve seen the nanny bring him meals too. The Head Chef cooks, yes, but he doesn’t always serve."
The room shifted with murmurs, several officers exchanging uneasy nces. Christopher’s jaw tightened. Rick leaned back, satisfied. Daniel’s smirk faltered just slightly.
"Shouldn’t we be suspecting the nanny as well?" Nnenna asked, turning her gaze on Christopher as if daring him to admit it. "Please tell me she’s on that list of yours."
Christopher froze for a second, caught off guard. The nanny? His mind nked. Is this girl trying to go too far?
Nnenna noticed the way several faces in the room darkened instantly, but she pressed on anyway.
"If she isn’t already there, then she should be. We shouldn’t leave her out of the suspect list just because of sentiment."
"She’s innocent," Daniel cut her off sharply.
"No one is innocent until proven otherwise," Nnenna shot back without hesitation. Her voice carried a quiet weight. "Isn’t that part of the reason you all don’t trust me? Because I’m new? So why should she be above suspicion?"
Daniel’s eyes narrowed. After a long pause, he replied tly, "The nanny is different."
"No one’s above suspicion," Nnenna countered, unflinching.
"I think we’ve heard enough!" Elin’s voice cracked like a whip across the room, cold and furious. Her re pinned Nnenna in ce. "I can tolerate your arrogance. I can tolerate your childish barbs. But I will not, ever, tolerate you insulting the nanny!"
The temperature in the room spiked as Elin stood abruptly, her voice rising with raw emotion.
"That woman has given her entire life to His Highness. She doesn’t even know her own children because she has spent every waking moment caring for him! She’s like a mother to all of us, and you dare throw dirt on her name?!"
Elin’s fury echoed in the silence that followed. The room felt heavy, split between Nnenna’s cold reasoning and Elin’s fiery defense.
It wasn’t just Elin, everyone looked offended. Even Rick shifted ufortably in his seat.
Nnenna pursed her lips, her confidence wobbling for the first time. Did I misstep?
"Fine," she said atst, her voice clipped. "Then prove me wrong."
"My word is enou—" Elin began hotly.
"With logic," Nnenna cut her off before she could finish, her eyes sharp. "Not emotions."
Elin froze for a beat, then lifted her chin and forced her voice steady.
"Fine. Before His Highness fell sick, the head chef served his meal himself. The food was brought straight from the kitchen to the dining hall. The nanny was never, never, part of that process. I’m sure the surveince cameras can confirm it if you want evidence."
Murmurs rippled through the group.
"And more than that," Elin continued, gaining strength, "the nanny has been raising His Highness for over ten years. She practically gave her life for him. If she wanted him dead, she had countless opportunities when he was still a child. Children are more vulnerable, easier to harm. But she didn’t. She protected him, loved him, watched over him every single day. So why now? Why would she suddenly want to kill him out of the blue?"
Her words struck the room hard, logic wrapped in loyalty.
"You make a good point," Nnenna admitted after a pause. Elin was right, at least on this one. The head chef was far more suspicious than the nanny. He had prepared and served the food the night before Carl fell ill. Nanny hadn’t been involved at all.