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“Ms. Kent,” Moderno was saying, “please answer the question.”
“Yes, I expect the court and your good self to believe me because it is the truth.”
Moderno smiled disdainfully. “So, you telepathically forced the guards, both at the gate and in the house, to give you entry and then you just strolled on through.”
Belle’s smile echoed his. “Tell me, Counselor, do you have a familiar?”
“Of course not—”
She turned to the councilors on the dais. “Do any of you?”
“Please, Ms. Kent, just answer the question and do not directly address the bench.”
“I can’t answer the question without addressing the bench, because neither the counselor nor his client have familiars and therefore no understanding of the complexity of the relationship.”
“This has nothing to do with the question at hand, Ms. Kent.”
“On the contrary, it has everything to do with the question at hand. Part of a familiar’s job is to protect their witch’s life, even if it results in the end of their own. My witch was in fear of her life, and I had no choice but to go in there and save her.”
“That doesn’t explain how you—a Sarr—got past magical protections raised by one of the strongest witches in Canberra.”
She smiled benignly. “And that right there is how I got past.”
Uncertainty flickered through Moderno’s aura, though his expression didn’t alter. “I’m unsure—”
“I’m talking about the disdain that literally oozes from your skin every time you look at me. It’s that disdain that allowed me to get into Clayton’s mansion. No royal family ever considers us a magical threat, so few ever write their protections to include us.”
“Clayton’s protection included protections against break-ins.”
“By humans, yes. Not by a lowly old Sarr. But there’s one other point you forgot—the link between a witch and her familiar goes two ways, and while my witch might be considered an underrated disappointment by her prick of a father, it was her magic that enabled me to defuse Clayton’s spells. And let’s not forget—though I’m sure every royal witch in this room would certainly prefer to—that it was Lizzie who finally stopped that sorcerer’s killing spree, even if your client chose to blame Liz for the death of his precious heir, which is why he forced her into the marriage with Clayton. He wanted to get rid of her.”
Fuck, Belle, tell it like it is, why don’t you?
Someone has to.
“I have no idea what killing spree you’re referring to,” Moderno was saying, “but it is irrelevant—”
“No, it’s not, because that fucker is alive and well, and there’s a body in the high council’s precious park to prove it.” Her gaze cut to my father. “And you, fuckhead, are sitting right on the top of his ‘unfinished business’ list.”
Chapter Four
To say this declaration was met with a fair amount of mayhem would be an understatement. There might only be ten other people in the room, but they sure as hell made plenty of noise. But then, the news of a sorcerer hunting for fresh blood amongst the royal ranks was always bound to raise a little alarm.
As the adjudicator used the gavel again in an attempt to regain order, I said to Belle, Where the hell did that come from?
Not from me, that was for sure.
She wrinkled her nose. Got hit by a fragmented vision while you were coming back from the park.
Precognition hadn’t been one of Belle’s original skill sets, but the day we’d done a deep merge to oust the White Lady trying to take over her body had changed that. She certainly didn’t dream as clearly or even as often as I did, but the insights she did get were probably just as accurate.
Why didn’t you mention it?
Because I didn’t want to worry you any more than you already were. Ashworth and Eli concurred.
At least that explained the brief look I’d caught between the two men.
Why mention it now, then?
