Chapter 2. Now Maris #2
Nej gave me a firm nod. “Exactly. Now, the Consul will call the tribunal to order and then—”
“Nej, it’s not my first tribunal. It’s not even my fiftieth.”
I’d grown up attending them with my mother, a practice that most children of Magistrates were expected to partake in.
If we were to inherit their seats one day, we had to be instructed from a young age.
And it wasn’t just procedures and formalities we were learning.
We were meant to be ingrained with the politics that no one gave speeches on or plastered onto the sides of buildings.
There was a bigger game afoot—one that influenced the turning of the judgment stones in every single tribunal.
The highborn families and the ever-shifting balance of power between them was the tide that controlled the tides of our city.
“It’s your first one as a Magistrate.” His voice deepened just a little, and I could tell that he was worried. I could see it in the way his mouth twitched. “There’s also the dinner with the Consul.”
I let my eyes trail to him, managing to hold my pose still for the portraitist.
“I hope I don’t have to tell you how important it is that you make a good impression.”
“I know.”
“If there’s anyone who can win you the favor of the Magistrates, it’s him. There isn’t a single one among them who isn’t trying to ensure their place after this war.”
My fingers tangled tightly in my lap. Every time Nej mentioned after, it made my heartbeat slow just a little.
There would be no after if the Consul didn’t try to negotiate the peaceful transfer of power when the New Legion took the Citadel.
That was exactly what I intended to use the opportunity of the dinner for—a plan Nej would never approve of.
“Can I ask you something?” I said.
Nej turned to face me. “Of course.”
“You really believe it? That all of this is going to end with the Forum intact?”
His eyes cut to the portraitist, whose paintbrush slowed on the canvas.
“I know as well as you do that there is only one way for this to end,” he said, voice tight.
“With this rebellion crushed and the Citadel reinstated with its power over all of Isara.” The words were a warning that such conversations were not meant for the ears of those we did not trust. “The more you show that faith in the Forum, the more leverage you will have with your judgment stone. Don’t forget that. ”
I didn’t answer, but I held his gaze long enough for him to be satisfied that I wouldn’t argue.
I knew he was right. We were far past the point of entertaining those thoughts.
More than half the Loyal Legion was gone and the Citadel District was trapped between the river and the walls.
They’d once existed only to protect us—the gates far across the city so that we’d be shielded from any breach.
Now they had become a cage we were trapped in.
He walked to the south window, his eyes cast out over the city. But then his sauntering steps faltered, the expression on his face falling.
“What is it?” I asked, studying him.
Nej didn’t answer.
I got to my feet in the next breath, crossing the room as the portraitist groaned behind me and his brush hit the palette with a clatter.
Nej leaned into the window ledge with both hands and I followed his gaze to the river, where a swarm of red tunics was gathered at the south bridge.
From this distance, I could just barely make out the three bodies suspended over the water.
I didn’t need to see their faces to know they were Magistrates.
Nej was silent, the vein at his throat pulsing.
I dropped my eyes, trying to quell the sick feeling blooming inside me. “How many?” I whispered. “How many are left?”
“If all three are Magistrates?” Nej exhaled. “Thirty-three. The gods do not reward cowardice.”
The wretched souls hanging from the bridge weren’t the first to try to escape through the Lower City. They wouldn’t be the last, either.
The low-pitched peals of the bell tower rang out, calling the Magistrates to the Forum.
“Come,” he said, squeezing my wrist. “We don’t want to be late.”
When I turned back to the study, the portraitist already had his paint box closed up.
“I’ll be back in the morning.” He rose slowly from his chair to stretch his legs, shooting a glance at the south window before he left.
Nej tied the strands of his robe clumsily as he looked me over. He straightened the medallion around my neck, brushing off my shoulders before he gave me an approving nod. Instead of turning for the door, he went to the desk, gathering up an armful of scrolls.
“What are you doing?”
He set a few of them into my hands. I inspected them, turning the parchments to try to read what was inside. “What are these?”
“Just something to make you look like you know what you’re doing.”
I expected him to laugh, but he didn’t, making me think that there was more riding on this than I probably knew.
When I tried to imagine myself in the grandeur of the Forum, sitting in my mother’s seat, the truth settled in the pit of my stomach.
I had no idea what I was doing. And now, more than ever, I wondered if I’d made the right decision that night.
For so long, I’d been telling myself I’d had no choice. I didn’t know anymore if that was true.
“Ready?” Nej asked, setting his gaze on mine.
I drew from the confidence in his eyes, that steeled look of surety he’d always had, and I pushed the memory away. “Ready.”