Lars nodded. “Permission granted.”
“The Queen’s Rider is talented, that’s undisputed,” Fleur said. “My own son is quite enamored of her, and I’d considered her an asset to the realm.”
Simeon’s eyes roamed over Ezaara as if he’d devour her.
Clenching his fists, Roberto stuffed them in his pockets.
“After Jaevin was wounded, other incidents came to mind,” Fleur continued. “When Ezaara was in the infirmary helping me, she questioned my judgment, often suggesting alternative remedies. Was she trying to poison my patients? And why did Ezaara knife Sofia? That incident has never been explained.”
Roberto stood. “Master Lars, this is nothing but personal opinion and has no bearing on this morning’s case.”
Alban jumped to his feet. “If I may, Master Lars?” At Lars’ nod, he continued, “Ezaara did not only knife Sofia. She also attacked me during the race, threatening me if I spoke up. You saw me yourself, sir, limping over the finish line.”
“He attacked me and I defended myself!” Ezaara melded.
Alban had had it in for Ezaara since the knife accident. This had to stop. “Do you have any witnesses, not just people bearing grudges?” Roberto snapped.
Alban glowered, not answering.
Roberto nodded. “I thought so. No proof. This is another attempt to malign the Queen’s Rider. I—”
“Sit down, Master Roberto.”
Roberto sat, fuming. This was nothing but slander. Ezaara would never betray Zaarusha.
Or could she? Perhaps he was letting his heart get the better of him. He’d been betrayed before by someone he loved.
Fleur tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I must attend Master Jaevin and make his last hours more comfortable. Thank you for the opportunity to express my concerns.” She exited the chamber, escorted by the guard who’d brought the news.
Tonio swept his hand toward Ezaara. “I present to the Council of the Twelve Dragon Masters, Ezaara of Lush Valley—daughter of Marlies, the dragonet slayer—who wheedled her way into our dragon queen’s trust, only to smuggle poison into the hold and strike down Master Jaevin in an attempt to weaken our council. She planned to make this look like an accident, using a public event to disguise her murder attempt. No one suspected she’d poisoned the blade, except our intuitive healer, Fleur. I warn you, we have a traitor in our midst and would do well to be rid of her.”
“They don’t believe it was an accident!” Ezaara’s anguish sliced through Roberto’s mind, making him wince.
These coincidences were stacked against her. He had to find a sliver of proof that showed Ezaara’s innocence.
“Master Roberto, please present your defense.”
“Master Lars, council members, and esteemed folk of Dragons’ Hold, with all due respect, we have no concrete proof and no witnesses against our Queen’s Rider. It’s all supposition. No one saw Ezaara poison the sword, because she didn’t. The dragon’s bane found in her cavern could have been put there by someone else. That she recognizes a poison from her home is unremarkable, especially when she’s been trained to ease afflictions and promote health. She’s an ignorant Lush Valley girl, who has imprinted with Zaarusha—not an assassin.” He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. “I tested her imprinting bond. It’s strong. I admit, she’s been clumsy—dropping her dinner, twisting her ankle and then harming Sofia in an accident—but she’s been training hard to be the best Queen’s Rider she can be. And she adores our queen. Why would she throw all that away? It makes no sense. Master Lars, with your permission, may I perform a mental test on Ezaara to see whether she poisoned the ceremonial blade?”
Lars nodded. “It’s within your role as Master of Imprinting and Mental Faculties. I trust you to be impartial.”
It was ironic. Life had taught Roberto to be careful, to mistrust, to always question—and that was why Lars trusted him. “Ezaara, may I?”
“Of course, I have nothing to hide.”
Roberto locked down his own thoughts, so Ezaara couldn’t read them, and placed his hands upon her temples. There it was again, a bouquet of vibrant color swirling through him, as if he’d stepped into a summer garden. He flitted through her memories, accidentally stumbling upon their first mind-meld at the river. He tried to control the warmth spreading up his face. How did she do that? Make him feel so much, when he hadn’t for years? He dug further. Despite how he felt about her, he had to prove the Queen’s Rider hadn’t fooled him.
Wait, what was that? Ezaara and Adelina, smuggling pots out of the infirmary. His gut hollowed. Was she guilty? Had she tricked Adelina into helping her? He chased the memory to its end. No, those were the medicinal herbs smuggled out to heal him after his chest was gashed. A breath of relief slipped out of him. He tracked further through her memories—her loyalty blazed like a beacon fire in the dark.
What a fool for doubting her.
Roberto released his hands and stepped away from Ezaara. “I’m satisfied, Lars. Ezaara did not poison the Master of the Sword. Someone is trying to blame her. They hid the dragon’s bane in her room. We have a traitor among us.”
Gasps rippled around the chamber.
“Excuse me, Master Lars,” Simeon interrupted. “If I may ... I mean, I don’t want to interrupt, but I fear there may be more to Roberto and Ezaara’s relationship than trainee and master.”
What was Simeon inferring? “He’s bluffing,” Roberto warned. “Look surprised.”
The crowd tensed.
“I once stumbled upon Master Roberto half naked on Ezaara’s bed. She was with him.”
“What? When?” Then he remembered. “I was injured, and Ezaara was healing me.” The words burst out of him before he could think.
Simeon screwed up his face. “I work in the infirmary. I don’t recall you being injured.”
“I took a tharuk gash to the chest when we fought at River’s Edge. Ezaara treated it.”
“That must’ve
