Chapter Sixteen
Justice Hall was lit by glowing blue stones set into decorative sconces along the walls.
A large hall was filled with an army of workers crowded around large desks, all of whom were meeting with people.
A scant half dozen guards protected the entire space.
Austin recognised most of them from their coming and goings at Tristan’s estate.
Tristan inclined his head towards one of them. “I’ll be a moment.”
Eli took on the quality of glue, sticking to Austin’s arm as if he meant to become part of it.
“The admin workers here sort through walk-ins and then assign them to the right division. All those small doors are offices where matters can be handled privately, and through those doors, bigger cases are held.” Eli nodded straight ahead.
“Prince Hal usually presides over at least one case a day, to keep an eye on things. Some petition directly for him to oversee them.”
“Why?” Austin asked. “Is he lenient?”
Eli hesitated. “Sometimes.” His tone said it was complicated.
An admin worker strode by, flanked by an unfamiliar guard. Eli crept even closer to Austin’s arm as the two women caught sight of him. The admin worker slowed, but the guard’s gaze slid over Austin and she nudged her to keep going.
Austin waited until they passed. “You were tried for something here?”
He peered at Eli, whose tanned skin had taken on an ashen quality. The fingers feathering against Austin’s wrist were ice cold. Despite his fear, Eli met his eyes before he nodded.
“I wasn’t convicted,” Eli said. “The thing I was being tried for isn’t actually against the law. But Prince Hal put it down on record anyway, so everyone could see the accusation. He deemed it fair that even though I had broken no law, people should know what I had been accused of.”
Austin considered what crime would make him snatch his arm from Eli’s fearful grip. “Did you kidnap someone?”
“No.”
“Steal a child?”
“I think that would fall under kidnapping.”
“Poison someone?”
“No!”
“Stab them with needles?”
Eli’s voice sharpened. “It was betrayal. If you insist on the details, then just ask any of the admin workers here. Everyone makes a point of remembering Prince Hal’s rulings.”
Austin covered the tightening grip on his wrist with what he hoped was a reassuring touch. He didn’t ask if the ruling was true. He got the impression from Eli’s demeanour that it was. “You requested Prince Hal because you knew you hadn’t technically broken the law, but he punished you anyway?”
Tristan’s hand brushed the small of Austin’s back. Eli recoiled with a flinch, hands shooting behind his back.
“We’ll watch from the spectator box. He won’t be long. Trials convene once the sun sets,” Tristan said.
Betrayal.
Eli stood tense, seemingly awaiting another judgement to be passed.
Austin looked at Eli. “You don’t need to come in.”
His attempt at mercy failed. Eli’s expression fell.
“See if you can find me some better clothes. You know what I actually like. Bring Reba along. He can carry things.”
Eli hesitantly raised his head, eyes meeting Austin’s. His skin was still grey and his body a tense line, but the fear in his eyes thawed. “Yes, sir—Austin,” he corrected himself quickly. He flashed a smile and darted out of the hall.
Tristan’s hand at Austin’s back spread out, fingertips gliding across smooth silk. “You don’t like the clothes I got for you?”
“Not half as much as the attendant that snuck in with them,” Austin replied.
???
Tristan led Austin up a well-guarded stairway and into a raised spectator room.
Austin stepped up to the banister, casting a quick glance across the brightly lit room.
Courtrooms apparently looked similar across worlds.
There were spectator seats on either side of a wide walkway, leading first to a podium, then to a raised platform with an imposing desk.
Everything seemed to be made of polished marble, and the wood here was stained dark and gleamed, catching every glimmer of reflected jewels, of which there were many.
The market had been filled with those dressed in linen and leather, plain cottons, patched-together garments, wholly utilitarian.
The spectators here were polished and pretty, the men no less decorated than the women.
Their clothes draped off them in excess.
Sleeves and folds shimmered whenever they moved, gems inlaid in plaited hair caught the light, and the amount of sheer clothes hinting at jewelled bodies was racy even for Austin.
The most splendid—and the most at ease, Austin thought—was the man standing at the lower podium.
He was in his twenties, or a young-looking thirty, and had a toned body draped in sheer, golden fabric with gems of emerald green decorating everything beneath.
Healthy dark-chestnut hair curled to his shoulders, plaits similar to Austin’s pinned in place with golden clasps.
He was good-looking and, from his expression, knew it.
His dark doe eyes were fixed on the man behind the upper stand in a look of beautiful innocence that Austin had never been able to master. Austin was at once certain that the beauty was both the accused, and guilty.
The door shut quietly, and Tristan joined him at the rail.
Austin focused his attention on the high podium. The man there was long and lean, stretched sideways in a wooden chair, elbow propped up to rest his chin against his knuckles. A garland of tiny white blossoms rested upon his dark hair, a flash of golden band peeking out from the flowers.
Austin stared at the dainty flower crown in surprise, unsure what to make of it.
Tristan must have read his uncertainty because he leaned in, speaking softly against his ear. “It was a gift from the gardener’s daughter. A very pretty girl.”
The rest of the man’s attire was stately. Tristan’s clothes were excellent quality but casual, but Hal looked every part the prince. Gold cuffs peeked out from beneath a jacket so embroidered it had lost the ability to bend.
Hal’s face was that of a man in love. His features were similar to Tristan’s, though less broad and more hawkish, and eyes as blue as Tristan’s gazed upon the accused with naked admiration. He didn’t seem to be listening to a single word.
“You see,” the beautiful accused said, “I wasn’t aware that one hundred and twenty silvers were to be given to the bookkeeper. My mother didn’t keep great records, and the only evidence was a note the bookkeeper had written. I thought she was trying to defraud me.”
Tristan pulled up a seat for Austin, and Austin sank into it, accepting the glass Tristan offered without thinking. He took one sip, then went still.
“Sparkling juice,” Tristan murmured. “There’s no alcohol in it. Would you prefer wine?”
Austin relaxed, shook his head, and set the glass on the small round table between their seats.
“I see,” Hal said, a dreamy quality to his voice. “Do you have anything else to add?”
“Only that I am more than happy to reimburse the bookkeeper, and I’m sorry for all this bother, Prince Hal.
” The beautiful accused offered another beseeching look that had Hal watching him as he stepped down from the podium and a middle-aged woman took his place.
She was dressed in plain linen, her hair plaited but unadorned.
Austin would have guessed her to be in her forties, but stress might have deepened the signs of age in her face.
“I’m Caeda, Prince Hal.” Her voice trembled as she bowed her head.
Fortunately or unfortunately, Hal didn’t see it, his attention fixed on the beauty where he now sat to the side, listening.
“I worked for Mrs Seare for twenty years. Two weeks ago, when she was certain she was to pass, she summoned me to her bedside. Her son”—Caeda glanced briefly at the beauty—“Kas, was also there. She informed me that I would receive a severance of one hundred and twenty silvers—six months pay—when she passed. I noted this down.” Caeda began to wring her hands.
“I only wish to have what was promised.”
Without looking away from the beauty, Hal said, “In your complaint, you mentioned that the silvers were in fact given, and then immediately seized?”
“Yes. I was given the money by the head accountant, and when I attempted to leave the estate, the money was taken from me by Kas.”
Kas’s hands twitched.
“He physically took the money from your hands?” Hal asked.
“Yes.”
For a moment, it looked as though Kas would speak up, but he held it in. His control over his expressions was enthralling.
“How much of your fortune was contained in that silver?” Hal asked.
Caeda looked puzzled.
“Properties, savings, prospects…?” Hal prompted. “When you briefly held those silver coins, how much of your assets did they represent?”
A distinct look of humiliation crossed the woman’s face. “I rent a room in the city, so I don’t own any property. And my savings…are one hundred and thirty silvers.”
There was a ripple of muted laughter across the room. Caeda kept her head high through the humiliation, though perhaps seeing that the judge was staring at the one opposing her utterly besotted, she might have been kinder to herself by looking at the floor.
“Roughly half, then. Very well.” Hal finally took his eyes from the terrible beauty and gestured to an official-looking man at a desk of his own, who raised his pen to write.
“Kas Seare, as repayment for robbing your mother’s late bookkeeper of half her assets, you will surrender to her—without delay—half of your assets.”
The terrible beauty leapt to his feet. “What?”
Austin turned to Tristan, his surprise too much to quash. His own question was very similar.
With a grin, Tristan motioned for Austin to keep listening.
“She was owed one hundred and twenty silvers! I will give her that; I can give her double that without issue, but half of my assets? My prince…” Kas was trembling in indignation. “Perhaps you do not realise, but my assets are great.”