Chapter 59
LIX.
Kerasea
I wake up to sunlight pouring onto my face, but I’m not in my own bed. I’m not even in my room in Jubilee Palace. These sheets smell like snow and sandalwood.
I sit up with a start, and the room spins. I clutch my head as I fall back onto the pillow.
“You’re all right. You’re safe,” Julian says from the doorway.
I look around and realize I’m in Torren’s bedchamber. Bloody lies, how did I get here? My head throbs, and then I realize that I must have fainted in the throne room.
“Torren carried you here and posted me to guard you, Excellency,” Julian says.
I look over because there’s new reverence in his eyes and his tone. Instead of his normal humor, he’s serious.
“Where is he now?” I ask.
“Searching for evidence against Medea. You haven’t been asleep long—maybe an hour.”
I nod. At least the sleep was dreamless. But then I look down and notice the blood all over me. I cringe at the sight.
“I’m sure you’d like to bathe and change. The conclave has ended, and we are all leaving soon,” Julian says.
“Thank you, Commander,” I say. As usual, I’m grateful for his kindness.
I rise from the bed, but slowly because it feels like my body was beaten. Every joint aches down to my bones. Julian rushes in and offers me his arm. I take it, and we walk to my room.
“I’ll be just outside your door,” he says.
I smile, close the door, and undress. I’m surprised there aren’t bruises on my skin. Blood soaked through my shift, so I throw it into the fire. I want to burn the ceremonial robe as well, but there are sacred lapis stones inside, so I roll it into a ball as the water warms up.
It takes two baths to fully scrub Zel’s blood from my body. I wrap my wrist, pin back my wet hair, and then don simple riding clothes. Once I’m done, I open my bedroom door to see Julian turn and smile.
He escorts me to the throne room. Two sentries stand at the door. They both sign with their fingers to their lips and bow low to me as we enter.
I smile, though unease grips me. I’m not their commander. They should’ve saluted Julian, not me. But calling the god in front of them has put me above their chain of command, because the thing Pryor respects the most is power.
My fingertips grow icy. Religious fervor can be just as dangerous as the truth. More so.
Julian and I wait in the doorway as the senators speak. Torren stands at attention in front of the table. Ease and hope fill me at the sight of him.
But something is wrong—his jaw is clenched.
“While the evidence the Praetorian presented is compelling and troubling, ultimately all Senator Medea stands accused of is the murder of a commoner,” Suh says. “Tullanium is inappropriate.”
Torren found evidence and asked to bring Medea to jail. My heart quickens. Not only did he carry me to his bed and safeguard me, but he will bring a senator to justice.
“Is there not room in Tullanium for Medea?” Foreau asks.
“The note from her hand to the victim along with the High Priestess’s testimony is evidence enough for detainment before trial.
And her being in the possession of the diamond ring of the republic minimally shows her involvement in Verhardt’s death. ”
The diamond ring of the republic? The one Verhardt wore?
Medea masterminded all of this.
I clutch Julian’s arm, feeling faint again, but I don’t dare look in Medea’s direction. I can’t risk what my anger will summon.
Terrance sniffs in annoyance. “The ring is not evidence of her involvement when there is no witness testimony, and Medea fervently denies having it in her possession. Tullanium is simply not the place for a senator awaiting trial. We, of course, can have her post a substantial bond, but we should believe the word of our colleague. Do you agree, Paolo?”
I stare at Senator Paolo. Reasonable and part of the new guard, he should agree with Foreau. But Paolo is focused on his ring, avoiding eye contact.
“Agreed,” he says.
“On a three-to-one basis, Medea shall post a five-thousand-gold-bullion bond and will be remanded to her villa in the capital following our departure from Jubilee,” Terrance says.
“She is to remain there until the Verity Guild tribunal convenes following the trial of Trajan Lowe. That brings all matters to a close for this conclave.”
I step into the throne room. “Just a moment, Senator. Sentry Calais murdered my servant in cold blood.” All eyes turn to me, including Torren’s. “I want his memory and his name stricken.”
No one speaks. Fear emanates from the Council—as well it should.
“He, of course, committed a great offense to you, Excellency,” Suh says, bowing his head. “But the murder of a servant does not warrant striking a memory and removing nobility from a bloodline.”
“I can’t think of something that is less noble than molesting and murdering a defenseless girl,” I say. “I’m sure Senator Eyo would’ve agreed.”
Suh flushes, and Paolo shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
“Although this is not proper procedure for a complaint of this nature, I see no objection to compensating you for your loss,” Terrance says.
“Compensation?” I repeat.
Terrance nods vigorously, though his white hair doesn’t move. “I believe the sum of twenty gold bullions will be an adequate recovery for your servant’s services.”
Her services.
If I hadn’t killed Calais, that is all he would have had to pay for murdering Zel in front of me. Her death is considered an offense to property because he was noble and she was part of the servant class.
Twenty gold pieces for the life of a fourteen-year-old girl. That is all she was worth to them.
I should’ve brought the ceiling down.
I curl my hand, my bandage tight around my wrist. Rage bubbles inside me and, with it, a hunger for pain, for blood.
This Council should not exist. But I catch Torren shaking his head slightly.
I have to remain calm, because that is what is expected of me, but more so this connection to death is now stronger than it ever has been.
I need to stay controlled and concealed.
I’ve known that my entire life, but I lost control at Jubilee.
“Of course,” I say. “That is more than adequate.”
Terrance and Suh stand, but I catch the stare of Medea. Torren is placing handcuffs on her, yet from the gleam in her eye, you’d think she won.