“Time to face the judges, Sayel,” a guard rasped.
The clatter of his keys filled the silence as he fumbled with the lock, the iron groaning as the door swung wide.
His gloved hand clamped around my bound wrists, wrenching me from the floor with a force that sent a jolt of protest through my tired limbs.
I shuffled out of the gloom, my steps slowing as we passed the neighboring cell.
I caught a glimpse of Meliory through the gap in the wall, his thin body curled on the floor in a restless sleep. The ragged cotton shirt clinging to his chest was more holes than cloth, dark with old stains I did not want to think about.
My gaze dropped to his feet.
One wore a frayed sock barely hanging together. The other was bare, the skin scraped raw where it dragged against the stone.
I bit down on my lip.
If I survived this… I would come back for him.
I would not leave him here to rot.
Step by step, the guard pulled me toward the heart of the High Court. The transition from the damp, airless dark to the brilliance of the manor was almost blinding.
When we emerged into the Great Hall, I wrenched my arms from the guard’s tough grip, stoking the small ember of pride left in my soul. I walked the final few feet to the witness stand, the same marble pulpit where I had stood only a lifetime ago.
At the far end of the room, upon the raised dais, sat Lord Evander and Dame Seraphina. Their faces were twisted in condemnation, their eyes devoid of the mercy they preached from their high seats.
A familiar cry had my body tensing as I whipped around to face the gallery.
My mother was leaning over a stone pew, tears racing down her cheeks. Beside her, my father’s hand moved in a slow pat against her back, but his gaze remained pinned on me.
My stomach bottomed out as my eyes moved to Lyra and Theron, who both looked away from me.
I opened my mouth to call to them, to plead for them to understand, but the crack of a gavel cut through the air.
I turned toward the dais, blinking away the rapidly forming tears.
“Kaelia Vaser.” Lord Evander’s voice boomed, the sound rebounding off the high arches of the hall. “You have been apprehended for the crime of treason against the High Court of Haelen.”
Dame Seraphina laid down a stack of parchment, knitting her fingers together and leaning forward. “By consorting with the enemy and carving a home within their shadow, you have bled our secrets into their hands. You have jeopardized the safety of every soul within our city.”
My fingers curled against the marble ledge, my nails scraping the stone. “You imply such crimes as if your own hands are not stained crimson.”
A wave of shocked gasps rippled through the gallery.
“Watch your tongue, child,” Evander warned, his gray brows twitching. “Do you seek to add the defamation of this court to your list of crimes?”
“No.”
He squinted, fumbling with a crumpled piece of parchment. “Very well, then we will begin the questioning.”
I refrained from rolling my eyes and gestured for him to begin with a wave of my bound hands.
“Do you believe binding your soul to a creature of darkness sets a positive example for our people?”
I feigned pondering for a moment, my index finger tapping at the polished stand. “If you mean forming a bond with the one fate has chosen, then yes.”
Dame Seraphina blanched. “It is abnormal.”
“And alters the essence to that of a monster,” Evander added.