Maribel walks forward and while Ginny is still standing there shaking with her shoulders caving inward like she's bracing for a blow, Maribel approaches from the crowd with her spine straight and her jaw set so hard it looks like it might crack. Where her sister is raw nerve, Maribel is fury made articulate.
"I will," she says loudly, cutting through the murmurs. "I'll speak."
Elder Rowen's eyes narrow. "You were not called."
Maribel lifts her chin. "Then call me."
Murmur moves through the court. Not whispers this time—interest. Real interest. The kind the elders hate because it means things are no longer moving according to script.
Ace rises halfway from his seat, then stills when Maribel flicks him a look that says I've got this. He sinks back, lips twitching despite the tension. That's his sister. Gods help anyone who forgets it.
"State your name," Rowen says curtly.
