The council murmured to each other until Hugo cut through the chatter with his booming voice. “Our plans for the Crown of Nine were meant to be kept absolutely secret.” He glared at his fellow monarchs. “We signed an oath in blood, if you’ll remember. If this child discovered the truth prior to arriving in Elysia, someone on this council is responsible.”
The sovereigns fell silent, not one of them willing to own up to the suggested offense. Ravanna settled back in her chair. I watched as she shared a sly look with my uncle before they both went back to ignoring each other.
Tyrn addressed the room, “It is time to call our character witnesses. Bring those who have been summoned forward.” A line of people began to form behind me. It was clear that I was to move, but I did not know where. Tyrn’s cold gaze fell to mine, “You may step to the side as the testimonies against you begin.”
Crenshaw snapped his fingers on the left side of the room. I reluctantly moved to stand next to him.
Over the next hour witnesses were called to recall what they remembered about me and if my testimony aligned with their memory. Most of them agreed that they couldn’t tell after all this time, but several of them pointed out huge discrepancies from what I looked like as a child and what I looked like now.
My old nanny announced that my hair had been lighter as a child and my curls more contained. She suggested that a royal would have retained the most beautiful qualities about her while growing out of the more unattractive ones to fit in with royal society.
As offended as I was for my hair, I couldn’t believe anyone would take her seriously. Royals did not make up the most beautiful people in the land. Nor could a person choose which physical attributes to grow out of and which would remain. But apparently her testimony appealed to the monarchs’ ego because several of them nodded along.
After a while, Tyrn motioned toward Hugo, the last of the sovereigns to call their witness. “Soravale, who do you call to stand before us?”
Hugo sat up straighter and gazed out at the room full of people. “Brahm the Mighty, Brahm Havish, the former first general to King Fredrix Allisand.”
Tyrn jumped to his feet, outrage twisting his face and forcing his shoulders to heave with the effort to breathe. “He has been banned from this palace, nay from Elysia! He is not allowed anywhere near this throne room! Guards! Find Brahm Havish and have him thrown in jail where he belongs!” He turned to his council, “I should have done this years ago! He is a traitor! An anarchist! Guards!”
The guards rushed to restrain a tall, thick man near the back of the room. He was older than Hugo, but not by much. His white hair was closely cropped and the groomed white beard that covered half his face did little to hide the hardness of his mien.
Brahm the Mighty suited him.
Hugo jumped to his feet and raised his voice to compete with Tyrn, “He is allowed at Conandra! The rules state that we can call anyone that can offer pertinent testimony. He was there the day the Allisands were murdered. He saw their bodies. He investigated the entire ordeal. If anyone knows anything about what happened that day, it is Brahm Havish.”
“I will not allow it,” Tyrn declared.
“It is not up to you, Your Majesty,” Hugo retorted. “In Conandra we vote as a unified council. The rest of the members have a right to their opinion.”
“Fine,” Tyrn relented after a heavy silence, his voice thick with threat. “Let them vote. We will see how they choose to proceed.”
“I’ll begin,” Hugo declared. “Aye for Brahm Havish to testify.”
Next to Hugo was Sasha Sennoa, the king from Tenovia. “Aye. Let him speak.”
I had no idea what Brahm would bring to the council, but I remembered him loyal to my father. He would have done anything for the Allisands. And for Elysia. Knowing that he had been banned made his testimony seem even more appealing. If my uncle hated him, then Brahm was one of my new favorites.
“Aye,” Devonish Katansa of Kasha boomed. “I want to hear what he has to say.”
Maksim Zolotov from Barstus snarled, “Nay.”
As did Tyrn, and then Ravanna from Blackthorne.
Three ayes. Three nays. And three left to go.
I watched Brahm glare at the council, daring them to have him removed. As a child he had terrified me. And now, I was certain he would give me nightmares.
But I knew how important his testimony would be. My blood bubbled beneath its thin cage of skin. I gripped my skirt with my fists and threatened to rip a hole straight through the layered material with the force of my grasp.
Vorestra was next, “Aye.”
Aramore, “Nay.”
Still tied.
And finally, Heprin. Gregor Munstein took his time. Pressure built in the air, weighing on my shoulders. Finally, Gregor ran a hand through his long beard, his glossy eyes settling on the back of the room. “I say aye,” he declared in a lighthearted voice, “lest I always be curious about what he had to say.”
Tyrn’s jaw clenched, but he waved a careless hand and said, “The majority rules. Brahm Havish may speak.”
Brahm wrestled his arms out of the guards’ grip and pushed his way through the crowd and down the aisle. By this time the audience buzzed, and conversation had grown to a dull roar.
When Brahm finally stood before the council, Tyrn let the commotion last for several long minutes before finally stomping his foot and shouting, “Silence!”
Everyone quieted. They looked eagerly at Brahm, enjoying the drama and anxious to hear
