Chapter Fourteen The Trial of Truth
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Trial of Truth
The Trial of Truth used no stage scenery. That made it more frightening.
Each candidate sat alone under white light in a dark theater. A circular screen behind her displayed questions selected from citizens, judges, and other candidates. The rules were simple: ninety seconds per answer. Refusal permitted, but scored. Proven lies meant automatic elimination.
Anya waited in the wings listening to Candidate Thirty-One answer whether she would choose Crown loyalty over her birth family.
The woman cried before she finished. The audience applauded anyway.
Sela stood behind Anya in line.
"I hate this one."
"Good instinct."
"What if they ask about Lucen?"
Anya turned. Sela widened her eyes innocently.
"What?"
"You promised not to discuss the market."
"I promised not to tell. I did not promise not to torment you privately."
"I can arrange a plumbing accident."
"Romantic."
Anya faced forward again.
She and Lucen had barely spoken for two days.
He attended official events, asked required questions, and treated her exactly like every other candidate. It should have helped. Instead, she noticed every absence. His laugh across a room.
His refusal to look at her too long.
The space where a private remark would have been.
She hated him for obeying the boundary he had set. Her number was called. Anya walked into the light. The theater vanished beyond it.
A voice announced, "Candidate Forty-Seven-Eighteen, Anya Serrin of Greybridge." First question appeared.
WHAT QUALITY MAKES YOU FIT TO STAND BESIDE THE FUTURE KING? Anya almost smiled.
"I don't know that I am fit to stand beside him. I know I am fit to stand on my own. I would hope those are compatible qualities."
Applause. Damn. Second question.
IF YOU WIN, WILL YOU LEAVE YOUR PROFESSION?
"A crown does not teach anyone more about water pressure than four years in maintenance tunnels. If winning requires pretending the work that shaped me is beneath me, then winning would make me less useful, not more."
More applause. Third.
DO YOU LOVE CROWN PRINCE LUCEN? The theater disappeared entirely. Anya heard her own heartbeat.
Somewhere above the light, Lucen was probably sitting with the judges. She could refuse. Refusal would cost points.
Good. She opened her mouth. Then stopped.
Truth was not the same thing as disclosure.
"I have known him less than three weeks," she said. "Anyone who can confidently call that love should probably not be trusted with national policy."
Laughter broke through the room. Anya continued.
"I respect things about him I did not expect to respect. I am angry at things he represents and some choices he has made. I think he is trying to be better than the institution that raised him. I do not know whether that is enough."
The audience went very quiet.
"Next question."
The screen changed.
DO YOU BELIEVE THE CROWN TRIALS ARE FAIR? Anya's breath stopped. There it was.
Senn's threat flashed through her mind. Mira's housing. Nemi's ration card. Lucen saying our bargain ends. The safe answer was obvious.
No system is perfect, but I trust the judges to uphold tradition.
Anya could almost hear the sentence in palace diction.
Then she thought of Tarin counting how many Trials she had to survive before prison could not claim her.
Mirel needing a crown to save her brothers from debt.
The widowed candidate whose marriage the Crown refused to recognize.
Forty-four women standing under forty-four different threats.
Anya looked into the nearest camera.
"No."
The word fell into silence.
Her wrist band vibrated, registering some scoring change. She continued.
"Fairness would require comparable choices.
We do not have them. One woman can lose and go home embarrassed.
Another loses and her family loses debt protection.
Another returns to a criminal sentence. Another risks exile.
Some candidates were trained for court from childhood.
Some had never seen the palace before this month.
We are told we compete equally because we wear the same dress and answer the same questions.
That is not equality. It is matching fabric. "
A murmur moved through the audience. Anya's hands were shaking.
She placed them flat on her knees.
"If the Crown wants a consort who represents Aldermere, then the Crown should first admit what Aldermere costs different people."
The timer ended. No applause. No laughter. The next question appeared.
WHO TOLD YOU ABOUT OTHER CANDIDATES' LEGAL CONSEQUENCES? Anya went still. A trap.
"The candidates did."
DID CROWN PRINCE LUCEN PROVIDE YOU WITH CONFIDENTIAL REGULATORY INFORMATION? Her stomach dropped.
She could feel the shape of Senn behind the question.
"He warned me that deliberate noncompliance after the Third Measure could trigger Forfeiture. That regulation is printed in our rule packet. He did not provide the personal circumstances of other candidates."
True. Carefully true. The screen waited. Then changed.
DO YOU TRUST HIM? Anya almost laughed. Not because it was funny.
Because there were too many answers.
She trusted Lucen to notice injustice.
She trusted him to dislike cruelty.
She trusted him to carry information alone if he believed sharing it would hurt someone.
She trusted him to make decisions for other people when afraid. She trusted the man.
She did not yet trust the prince.
"Sometimes," she said.
The timer ended.
She walked offstage on weak legs. Sela caught her hand.
"You are insane."
"Probably."
"That was magnificent."
"That was expensive."
Anya looked at her wrist band. Technical score: minus eleven. Public confidence: plus nineteen. She closed her eyes.
"I hate this country."
Sela laughed.
The aftermath began before the Trial ended.
Candidates in the waiting hall whispered. Staff hurried between rooms. The national feed replayed Anya's fairness answer three times before Kelm ordered the screens muted. Lucen did not appear.
That worried her more than if he had.
At midnight, final scores were posted. Anya ranked first overall. Again. Six candidates were Released. Tarin advanced.
The kitchen conspiracy celebrated that with stolen cake until a guard appeared and told them the residence was under restricted movement.
"Why?" Mirel asked.
The guard looked uncomfortable.
"Council review."
Anya's blood chilled.
"Of what?"
He did not answer.
A message arrived on her room screen ten minutes later.
CANDIDATE 47-18: REPORT TO DISCIPLINARY CHAMBER AT 08:00.
POTENTIAL brEACH: COORDINATED DISCLOSURE OF CONFIDENTIAL CANDIDATE INFORMATION. Sela swore. Mirel went pale.
"They'll call the ledger collusion."
Anya looked at the camera above the common-room door.
"Then they need evidence."
Junia slowly put down her cake fork.
"The ledger."
All five women looked toward the kitchen.
The coded sheet was hidden behind a loose baseboard under the pantry shelves. Tarin stood first.
"Move."
They reached the kitchen together.
The baseboard had been pried open. The ledger was gone.