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“The Summer Court is sending someone to act as magistrate for the trial.”

Lavender eyebrows lifted. “Wow.”

“I am more than able to testify on your behalf given what my findings told me…” Avery considered her words, careful to be kind but also not betray her own principles. “Regardless, I would prefer to hear your story from your own point of view. Make sure I put it all together correctly.” Feeling naked and scrutinized, she began to rub the center of her palm with her thumb. “It was brought to my attention this is what a friend would do in this situation.”

“You prefer personal testimony over evidence?”

“I quite definitively did not say that. I simply meant…” Avery trailed off as she registered that Velouette’s smile had taken on a distinctly impish quality. “You are teasing me.”

“This is what a friend would do in this situation,” Velouette echoed with a soft smile, but it didn’t linger. “You know the charges against me, I take it?”

“Kidnapping, accessory to murder, and accessory to conspiracy.” Avery took a beat of consideration. “Is that all it should be?”

“Pretty hefty accusations on their own, Avery. Do you think I should be trying for some kind of record?”

“I am asking exactly what you would ask in my position. When did you become aware of your ward’s intentions, and what was your level of involvement in the deaths that followed?”

“Are you parental?” Velouette smiled at her own question, embarrassed by it. “You don’t seem the type, but given your tendency to avoid mentioning anything personal about yourself, I felt I shouldn’t assume.”

“It is not an inclination I have felt, no.”

Velouette nodded, to herself rather than to Avery’s answer. “For zână, it feels as much a part of us as our limbs. Most of us on this side of the veil take up roles where we are still able to exercise that guardianship in more Mundane fashions. I’ve known nannies, pediatricians… I wanted to be that kindness where humans were far less likely to get it.”

“You were excellent at it,” Avery said. “That you not only took Osian’s case with compassion but used it to challenge how changelings in general are treated in our society was…appreciated.”

Her mouth tightened, smiling through the pain of an old wound being unintentionally agitated. “Wilhelm would always lecture me that my bleeding heart would get me into trouble. Turns out he was right.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Velouette’s head tilted with an expression that challenged that assertion. “I knew Abigail Rhyder was pregnant the moment I saw her. I was terrified for that baby. I knew no matter what happened, regardless of what the court decided, that baby would have a very hard journey. I could not abandon her. So, I visited. I made sure Abigail had proper doctor’s appointments. I was there the day the baby was delivered, and I was the first to hold her.” She took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have, but Abigail refused to do it. It was like watching an animal reject its young because it was too weak. Babies need to be held.” She gave a pained sigh. “I thought about adopting her, but I was still just an assistant. I didn’t have the financial means to care for someone so small without magic. If she was mine, every spell cast even for her would still, as her legal guardian, inevitably be for my benefit. Zână cannot cast for ourselves.”

Avery remembered the terrible teakettle. “But if she legally belonged to someone else’s care?”

“Then the magic is satisfied, and my gifts could be given freely,” answered Velouette. “Silly, the clauses that bind us, yes?”

“We all have our limitations.”

She made a hum of agreement. “I thought, maybe, the old ways were best. I did everything in my power to make her life better. When she was little, she thought I was her imaginary friend. As she grew older, I felt safe to let her know about the life she might live with us. It got her through many difficult times. Even on nights when magic was not enough to wipe away her tears, the dream that she could leave when she was old enough gave her hope.”

“When was that?”

“On her sixteenth birthday. At sixteen she was legally allowed to emancipate. Her foster parents were still technically responsible for her, but they couldn’t send anyone to forcibly retrieve her. I had a nice home by then, and a spare room for her. She worked for my office after school and during the summer.” Her face pinched as she fought back tears. “It was really good for those two years. Life was not perfect, at times things were tight, but… We were happy.”

“Was she never formally adopted?”

“No, but I gave her the name Roxanne Egan when we handed her over to the orphanage. It was my first gift to her. To start anew with no connection to Abigail Rhyder or John Hingley. For all the good that did.”

“Do you know how she found out?”

“I told her.” Velouette laughed at her own expense, shaking her head. “The day she turned eighteen, she became eligible for her mother’s belongings—that was the vault key you saw me take from her drawer. She didn’t have much, but there was this necklace I thought she might like to have. I wrapped it, brought it with me.” Her brow furrowed. “She seemed a little off when I arrived at her party, but I assumed it was just the mixed feelings one always feels after another year has gone by. I waited until we were alone to give her the necklace because I wanted to explain… I knew it might upset her, but she grew so angry. Accused me of lying to her all these years.” Her brow furrowed at the memory. “She demanded to see Abigail. That day. As you might imagine, that only upset her further.”

Velouette’s breath caught. “She didn’t get answers from her real mother, so naturally, she asked them of me. I reviewed the files before Abigail and her friends went to trial. I had to, it was my job. So when Roxanne asked, I answered. I was her fairy godmother, what could I deny her?” She seemed particularly ashamed about this, and for a moment she wept. “I never thought it would come to this, you have to believe that.”

“I do,” Avery asserted without hesitation.

“The night Betsey died, she came to me as she always did when she was in trouble. Told me everything. Explained she hadn’t done anything to her, hadn’t touched her. She told me she’d got her hands on an artifact her mother had used to bring John Hingley to justice. Something these women only had to gaze into and be judged.” She took a deep breath. “She looked scared when she told me, but resolved. Like she was carrying out a duty. So I helped where I could. Got her into Betsey’s apartment. Gave her a glamour…”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”