Fear and relief warred with each other. How long had I waited to gain an audience with the Crown of the Council? The opportunity to tell my side of things was here, and yet Wynn couldn’t contest or confirm my words. Would they believe me? Would they banish me yet again? Worse?
Gaze roaming to Noc, I intertwined my fingers with his. At least I wouldn’t be alone this time. “Of course.”
Pinning Noc with her authoritative stare, Yazmin clasped her hands together. “Your people are safe. We’ll help the wounded any way we can.” Charmers leaked from buildings, summoning beasts to put the clearing back together. Stretchers for the wounded appeared, and the brave jogged toward the fallen assassins.
Noc stood and pulled me up with him. “Do you want me to go with you?”
“Council hearings are typically closed.” I placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “I’ll be okay.”
“Actually, that won’t be an issue.” Yazmin brushed a finger against the glittering crown of gold woven into her hair. “As youranam-cara, he’s permitted to attend. Plus, we have questions for him.”
Tristan balked at her statement, muttering unintelligible words beneath his breath. Yazmin simply turned, a glimmer of mischief lifting the corner of her mouth.
Anam-cara.
The truth of that word branded my heart. There was no higher relationship for our people. To be chosen was the greatest honor, a declaration of true love. It wasn’t a term we doled out lightly, and yet hearing her say it… She couldn’t have been more right. From the moment he’d kissed me, I’d changed. Something had shifted for the better, something only he could have influenced.
Yes, I would name Noc myanam-cara. I just prayed he would accept me as his.
I caught one of his stray tears with my fingers. I wanted nothing more than to ease his pain, to fill his days with light and love. Noc looked at me, a question burning in his eyes. But with the Council eager to get started, explanations of the weight of that single word would have to wait. Now was my chance to prove I had been innocent all along. I needed to take it before they changed their minds.
I squeezed Noc’s hand, and we followed the retreating Council members to the keep.
The ceiling was open to the network of tree branches tangling above, and natural light spilled over the marble floor between pockets of leaves. Seven chairs, each a mixture of roots and stone and pure earthly beauty, sat in the middle of a raised dais. As one, the Council members took their seats. Above them, a beautiful statue burst from the wall like a figurehead on the prow of a ship.
Celeste. Her face upturned, her half-open eyes stared into the future. A rose-gold crown dipped across her forehead, her stone hands cradling a platinum harp wrapped in golden roses and vines. As if she were caught in a perpetual wind, her long dress fluttered outward.
Her harp and crown were the only remaining artifacts of her existence—one of the most powerful gods to grace our continent, and it wasn’t hard to see why. Emerging from the wall above her head was Ocnolog, an ancient dragon that once preyed on the people of Wilheim. Eyes shut in peaceful slumber, his thick neck curled around his master.
Dragging my gaze away from the masterpiece, I returned my attention to the Council. Yazmin sat in the middle throne reserved for the Crown. To her right, Kaori, Raven, and Eilan, the longest-sitting member. Appearing molten gold, his stern gaze burned into my chest. To Yazmin’s left, Tristan and Gaige. Tristan leaned forward, pressing his elbows to his knees, and steepled his fingers together.
The empty chair next to Gaige dominated my vision.
Wynn.The fog of his charm had faded, but there were still lingering tendrils in my mind. Wisps of uncertainty and muddled thoughts that made it hard to focus. Who knew how long that would last—or whether I’d ever fully regain the days he stole from me.
My fingers trembled, and Noc glanced down at me before gently squeezing my hand. Wynn was gone. Noc was here. Everything was fine. Safe.
Biting my lip, I steadied my erratic breaths and forced my gaze to the waiting Council. A Nezbit sat to the side of Yazmin’s throne. Its long ears formed sizeable feathered wings that stretched outward to the ceiling, and the extremely rare rabbit beast studied us with unblinking intensity. Teal feathers shivered along its haunches.
Yazmin leaned forward, her mercury cloak open to reveal her black high-necked dress. “All right, Leena. We’re all aware of your first transgression.”
“Alleged transgression.” I couldn’t help myself.
Yazmin’s smile was kind. “Alleged.” Ears twitching, the Nezbit straightened. Yazmin reached down and rubbed her fingers along its scalp. “Nessie can help with that.”
Noc shifted closer to me, shielding me partially from view. “What does the beast do?”
Stepping around him, I pressed a hand against his chest. “She listens to your heart. Right now, she’s familiarizing herself with our cadences. She’ll then be able to detect when our pulse races, determining lie from truth.”
“Though we won’t be able to do the same with Wynn,” Tristan mused.
“Is Leena’s word not good enough?” Noc demanded.
Tristan ran his fingers along his scraggly beard. Harsh brows angled down toward the bridge of his curved nose. “You want me to make a ruling without hearing both sides?”
Noc simmered. “You did before.”
I didn’t know much about Tristan, other than he was rugged and difficult, and entirely dedicated to nature. He would have valued the Gyss’s tale above my own any day.
