Chapter XXXIX
XXXIX.
Kerasea
The five senators are still alive for the start of the conclave this morning, which makes this the best of the last three days. That is, if you don’t consider the fact that someone in this room tried to kill the Praetorian and frame me.
I shift in my chair in the throne room.
“A word, please, before the start of the conclave,” Torren says.
He strides to the center of the room, his armor shining in the sun.
Now that we are on the same side, he seems much more human, but that’s also a type of danger for me.
He is perilously attractive, and the last thing I need is to be one of his broken-hearted one-night stands.
We can work together, but I need to keep my distance for a great number of reasons.
“An unfortunate event took place last night,” Tor begins.
I try not to react, but is he really going to disclose the attack by the kitchens and how he found the robe?
I grip the arms of my chair, regretting that I didn’t question Zel this morning. I wanted to put her at ease and make her think I’m unaware of her lies. But because of that, I don’t have additional knowledge as to what she was hiding or who wore the temple robe.
“What was that, Praetorian?” Terrance asks. He now tries to be the first to speak at every opportunity, although his volume is more reasonable.
“The cook took his own life.”
The senators murmur their surprise and questions, but they’re not nearly as confused as I feel. The cook at Jubilee? Torren never said anything about this.
“Was he a person of interest in Eyo’s potential poisoning?” Foreau asks, steepling his jeweled fingers in front of his lips.
I was surprised to see him and Paolo back in the throne room, but I suppose a day of protest was enough to make their point.
Torren nods. “Indeed, he was. But I did not have the opportunity to interrogate him before death took him.”
“Still, an act like that surely speaks to his guilt.” Suh rubs his goatee and taps his cane.
The Praetorian tips his head, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “Unfortunately, we’ll never know for certain. I will continue my investigation; however, I wanted to alert you all to this turn of events.”
“If the cook did poison our dear fallen colleague, further investigation will be futile,” Terrance says. “We will simply have to wait for a healer to confirm whether or not there was foul play.” Terrance folds his hands like that is the end of the inquiry.
Terrance has now urged us to drop the matter twice. Surely he must know how guilty that makes him appear.
Torren sets his gaze on the new Senate Leader. “If it were poison, and I must proceed as if it were, murdering a senator was an action so bold that he might well have had coconspirators at Jubilee.”
The senators exchange glances, the thought striking a chord.
“Gather your evidence, Praetorian,” Medea says, waving her fingers. “I motion that we convene the Verity Guild on the cook’s guilt as soon as we return to the capital.”
“You mean after the tribunal on your nephew’s rebellion,” Terrance corrects her.
Medea moves her mouth just slightly before she shakes the expression. “Obviously.”
That’s right, Trajan Lowe is Medea’s favorite nephew. The Council voting to convene the Verity Guild on his guilt sent shock waves through the capital.
Suh stands. “I second the motion.”
“I support,” Foreau says.
“Supported,” Paolo says.
“The motion passes unanimously,” Terrance concludes.
All of a sudden, the Council now believes it was poison, and yet they all remain calm because the suspect is dead?
My head is spinning. I will now have to try a dead man for the second tribunal? That can’t be right. It’s not even possible.
“Forgive me,” I say, “but with the cook already deceased, who stands trial?”
The accused is the one who stands before the Verity Guild for questioning. The Praetorian will present the case, the Chief Judge will ask questions, and it is my job as High Priestess to call to the god of truth, whose heavy presence coerces honesty.
Terrance sniffs. “There will be no accused to stand, but the Praetorian will present his case, and the guild will deliver its finding to the people.”
Suh nods. “A verdict is necessary for Senator Eyo’s memory, the Council, as well as for the cook’s lineage.”
Because they strip everything from the families convicted of high treason.
An expression flashes on the Praetorian’s face, and I remember this all happened to him because of his father’s treachery. It was, of course, my testimony that led to the conviction, but there is only so much guilt I can feel when I spoke the truth.
His gaze finds mine, trouble in his eyes, and my chest squeezes with true sorrow for what he must’ve endured.
It’s a harsh sentence, imposed so that citizens are not tempted to commit treason to better their families’ lives.
Yet looking at him now, I’m not sure it was just. He was only a child and innocent of the crimes he paid the price for.
“As you will it.” Torren swallows hard and then bows to the Council.
I twist the bangle on my wrist, reliving the day Torren appeared before the guild.
It all happened so long ago that I’d pushed it to the back of my mind, but he came before them to beg for his father’s life.
I’d gasped at his brave offer to take his father’s place—to be tortured and die in the arena—but my father heard me.
My gasp drew his attention as well as his ire.
I covered my gasp with a laugh and then, to my horror, others joined in.
My father was satisfied, but Torren had just stood there with his chin raised until he glared up at me. I never got the chance to explain it or apologize, and now it is so far in the past that it doesn’t seem worthwhile to pick at old scabs. But perhaps I owe him an explanation.
I’ll seek him out after this.
I’ve just resolved the matter in my mind when I notice Senator Foreau eyeing both of us. Goose bumps coat my skin. He says nothing, but from the slight raise of his chin, I can tell he knows there’s a connection between us. His eyes shine like a wolf’s at night as a smile plays on his lips.
I’m left with one thought: has our tentative alliance already been viewed as a threat?