Harmonia Calendar 715, Thal 25 - Capital Lionsgate, Elandor
Late Noon - Tribunal Hall
The wagon jolted to a stop. I was thrown sideways, shoulder slamming the wall, the sudden halt woke me.
I rubbed my wrists the iron had burned them through the night, each movement making the shackles clang.
Outside, boots struck stone, muffled voices. Then came the sound of the lock.
Click.
The door opened.
Light spilled in, harsh after hours of darkness. A guard's hand seized my arm, dragging me out, my eyes stung as they adjusted. Shapes sharpened, and there it stood before me.
The Tribunal Hall.
Two massive doors towered before me, carved from black oak and decorated with imperial lions.
On either side of the door stood figures carved from white marble. The goddess of Life with her praying hands, and the god of Death with his lowered, open hands. The patron gods of Aldaria were watching all who entered.
My gaze lifted higher, tracing the height of the doors until it reached the roof above. Behind me, rising in perfect symmetry, were white marble columns, massive and unyielding, holding the weight of the hall.
The guards shoved me forward.
The great doors groaned as they swung open, their weight echoing through the sound.
The first thing I saw was the floor. A wide circle of polished stone stretched at the center, empty except for a small podium of black wood.
My gaze lifted to the stained-glass ceiling high above. Light poured through in streaks of crimson and gold, painting the floor in shifting patterns.
At the edges, benches rose in rings. Every seat is filled. Nobles with jeweled hands leaned forward, and merchants whispered among themselves. Servants stood in corners.
Opposite the door hung the Empire's banner, crimson and gold shining in the light. Beneath it sat the magistrates, draped in black robes, their faces almost bored.
Their murmurs ceased as their eyes turned to me. Most glanced once before looking away, but a few let faint smiles tug at their lips before their gazes shifted on.
Something in their reaction felt wrong.
I didn't have more time to think about it before the guards shoved me forward again, onto the podium. Shackles clinked as they unlocked them. I rubbed at my wrists, iron gone, but the weight stayed.
They withdrew. Two soldiers took their place behind me, hands resting on their sword hilts. I knew without looking that if I moved, I wouldn't move far.
I looked around, my gaze darting across the rows. My hands fidgeted, rubbing at the raw skin of my wrists.
That was until I heard them.
"That's the Ashspire boy."
"So young…yet rotten."
"He looks like a beggar."
The words stung.
I glanced down at my blue tunic, now torn and disheveled, it was smeared with dirt and grime, and my hands were blackened from the cell floor.
I looked every bit what they named me.
"They say he isn't the Marquis's son."
"A bastard then."
"He took him in as a baby."
"And this is how he repays it."
My hands curled into fists.
'I'm not a bastard. I'm Adonis Ashspire…and I gave it my all to repay him for that.'
"He assaulted a maid, they said."
"Look at him. He looks guilty already."
The words made my blood burn, my jaw clenched shut.
'I could never do something like this… especially to Sarah. She was...my friend.'
"I…"
The word caught in my throat. I wanted to shout, to defend myself. But I hold back.
Now wasn't the time.
"Bastards don't know loyalty. It's in their blood."
The words came from all sides. Each one cut deeper, until they hurt more than my wrists.
Pain stirred behind my eyes, slow at first, then sharper. The headache came back, and with it, the visions. A girl's bright smile and soft laughter.
I clenched my fists, forcing them away.
'Not now. My head has to be clear today.'
I closed my eyes, steadying my breath.
I had to be ready for what awaited me.
***
Early Afternoon - Benches
Rowena sat stiff at the edge of her seat, hands clasped together, lips moving in the shape of a prayer.
Theodora looked worse. She hasn't slept, shadows underlined her eyes. Her gaze was locked on Adonis, as if the very act of looking kept him alive.
Lucien's eyes were on the judges. He watched every movement, every whisper their lips spoke. His jaw was clenched, and one finger tapped the railing in a slow, measured beat.
Anton sat like a statue, posture straight. No twitch, no shift, no breath wasted.
Favian leaned back as if he were watching a play. His shoulders loose, his lips curved when he thought no one watched.
The Grand Duke sat tall, his green eyes held no warmth, only the weight of judgment that measured everything and spared nothing.
Selene, beside him, was a contrast. Her hands folded delicately in her lap, her eyes studied Adonis.
The High Magistrate rose from his seat. He smoothed the folds of his robe and stepped to the lectern.
The hall stilled at once. His voice carried through the hall.
"Bring the witness."
Click.
A side door swung open.
***
Early Afternoon - Tribunal Hall
The door swung open.
The torn dress was gone. I wore a plain black shirt, buttoned to my throat. My lip was split, and a crust of dried blood had formed around it. One arm stayed pressed against my ribs, each breath hurt.
I stepped forward, eyes lowered to the floor.
But for a moment, I looked up toward the podium.
He stood there.
My throat felt dry.
'Adonis...'
He looked worse. The blue tunic hung torn, smeared with dirt. Grime covered his face, and his black hair fell in unruly strands over his eyes. The blue in them, once bright and clear, now dulled beneath dark circles.
My steps faltered. Tears began to flow. It hurt with every step, each one clawed at my chest.
'I'm sorry...Adonis. I don't want to do it. But I...have to. There's no other way. Either I speak and destroy you, or I stay silent, and let my family pay the price.'
I lowered my gaze again, but it was too late. His eyes found me.
My gaze lingered on them.
'I once loved how he looked at me, how his bright blue eyes only looked at me when we were together. But not now. Now I felt it in every step. How every word I speak ruins him further.'
The magistrate's voice broke the silence, his quill hovered.
"Speak."
I licked my lips, but they were too dry. My hands trembled at my sides. My mouth opened once before closing.
The magistrate's gaze sharpened. His quill didn't move, still waiting.
My eyes darted to Adonis for a breath.
'I'm sorry...I thought that I could tell the truth. That I could stand on your side. But...he showed me what happens if I do. My family...for my family.'
My lips parted at last. The voice that came was mine, but it didn't sound like me. The words left me in a whisper.
"Lord Adonis. He…forced me. He said I belonged to him now. His personal...slave. If I spoke, he would hurt the people I love."
The lines. Exactly as Favian had forced into me.
My hands rose, shaking, to the collar of the shirt. I pulled the fabric aside just enough. Purple-yellow marks stained the pale skin on my shoulder. There were more, hidden deeper. I knew whose hands made them, but I could never say it.
'For my family,'
I spoke to myself, a poor attempt to justify my decision.
The magistrate's quill scratched the parchment.
My eyes betrayed me. I looked for him again.
Adonis.
He was watching me. Those blue eyes met mine, and a tear silently flowed down his cheek. He looked at me with hurt and sadness in his gaze. My chest ached. My fingers clutched the fabric of my shirt as if it could keep me from falling apart.
'I'm sorry. I'm sorry.'
'Please stop. Stop looking at me with those sad eyes. I know it hurts, but it hurts me as well.'
I tried to look away, but my eyes found him. Favian. His gaze was worse. Red eyes looked down at me expectant as if waiting for more. My ribs ached where he hit me.
The words slipped out too loud.
"It is the truth! I swear it!"
The magistrate nodded faintly as the quill moved again. Around me, benches murmured.
My fists clenched.
'I want to shout. To cry out. To tell them what really happened. But I can't. My family. He will hurt them.'
I looked back at Adonis. One last time. My vision blurred by tears.
'If we survive this...I hope...you can forgive me.'
I clasped my hands together and spoke a prayer at last, for me and him.
'Seraphine…I beg you, please grant mercy. For me, and for the one I love.'
***
Afternoon - Tribunal Hall
The hall had gone still.
I sat on the benches with the rest, leaning forward, jaw clenched tight. My gaze kept sliding to the center, to him.
Adonis.
He stood on the small black podium, two soldiers at his back.
It was over. Sarah had spoken. My hands shifted on the railings, ready to stand up for him, to defend him.
The High Magistrate's firm voice shattered my thoughts.
"Bring the next witness."
'The next?'
My eyes flicked toward the door, confused.
The side door opened again.
A servant entered first. One I recognized. I'd seen him often in the estate's halls, he was responsible for Favian's affairs.
He faced the magistrates, his words
felt flat, almost bland.
"I saw him pull her. He took her down the passage. She shouted."
My teeth ground together. A lie. This man...I saw him, he'd never left the banquet hall that evening.
The magistrate's quill scratched, writing down the statement.
Another figure entered, a maid. She clutched her apron, but her voice came clear.
"I heard him brag. He said he had personal slaves for...entertainment. He said no one would stop him."
Gasps rippled through the benches. I gripped the railings harder. She too. Coached. Each word was planted in her mouth.
I wanted to stand up to expose their lies, but the next witness had already entered.
Another maid stepped in. Her eyes darted once toward Favian before she looked away. Her voice wavered, but she forced it out.
"He treats the maids like his playthings. Everyone knows."
My nails bit into my palms.
'Everyone knows? Knows what? That this is a play?'
Then a guard stepped in. His armor shone, he stood straight at attention, and his words came like a drill.
"He keeps a room in the city. Commoner girls go in. They don't always come out."
I forced my gaze forward, jaw set. I knew them. I knew their names. Each one was chosen and prepared. Father and Favian had planned all of it.
Murmurs spread through the benches with each statement. The background was filled with the scratch of the magistrate's quill, writing everything down.
At the podium, Adonis shifted. He took one step forward, and the guards moved with him, blades half-loosened. His voice broke across the room.
"That is a lie."
He barely finished before two hands seized his shoulders, pulling him back.
The High Magistrate's voice came sharp.
"Silence. You will answer when called."
From the benches, Theodora shot to her feet. Her voice was loud and furious.
"He would never—!"
Thud.
The hammer struck wood.
The magistrate spoke, his firm voice carried through the hall.
"Sit. Or you will be removed."
Theodora's hands balled in her skirt, trembling, but she sat. Her lips pressed tight, tears flowing.
I rose. My voice came steady, controlled.
"If the court requires character statements, I will—"
Thud.
The hammer struck again.
"Order."
Guards moved. Two hands pressed firmly on my shoulders. I stayed standing for a heartbeat longer before I sat again. Hands clenched the railings, and the wood creaked.
'Not now. They will throw me out if I push further.'
My gaze shifted through the crowd.
Mother didn't rise. She sat with her hands folded, eyes locked on Adonis. Her face was pale, lips trembling. She already knew words would not save him here.
Favian leaned back in his seat. His posture was loose, almost lazy, but I saw the twitch at the corner of his mouth. A smile, he thought, hidden.
Father did not move at all. No flicker, no tell. He just watched.
At the podium, Adonis swayed slightly, sweat on his temple, his jaw clenched. The headaches must plague him even in this situation. But he stood.
I stared at him. My brother. My blood, even if Father refused it.
'I will defend you. They'll have to drag me out to stop me.'