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Olivia
“Howdoyouplead?”My father asks from his place at the podium, his voice echoing through the large auditorium at the summit.
“Not guilty,” Helene answers, bristling in her seat with her hands tied together by the bindings of justice.
I roll my eyes, clamping down on the string of curses that beg to spill from my lips at the thought of that woman being innocent.
She doesn’t look nearly as cunning or elegant in the plain white jumpsuit and messy hair as she usually does. I guess she’ll have to make do without her fancy ball gowns and hair straighteners for a while.
They adjusted the stage for the trial so that Helene sits on one side, her chair raised on the platform for everyone in the audience to see, while my father, Mateo, Orrin, and Nyssa stand on the other side, each of them preparing their inquisition for the god of sea.
Phillipa is still noticeably absent, and despite the message that was sent recalling all of the gods to Ethereal, she hasn’t been seen since.
“Your argument,” my father says, giving Helene the chance to defend her case.
“Like she has one,” Adrian murmurs beside me, earning a disparaging look from Kyros on my other side.
The only one of my guys who didn’t want to attend the trial was Maximus because his job back at the academy is much more important than getting one last shot in on Helene—he’s so mature … not like the rest of us it seems.
But there was no way I was going to miss this. If Kallen is going to try something, I’m going to be right here, ready and waiting with the dagger hidden in the leather pouch at my side.
“I was coerced into working with Romulus, since he was holding my sister Daphne hostage,” Helene answers primly, her eyes narrowing on my father. “Has anyone even gone to retrieve her?”
“All in due time,” Orrin says, lifting a hand to cut off her segue. “Proceed with the rest of your defense.”
“As I was saying, I had no other choice than to follow Romulus, otherwise he would’ve killed my sister.” Helene focuses on Mateo, as though he would ever have any sympathy for her. “What would you do if it was your brothers? Or your mate?”
Mateo’s lip curls in a sneer, but he doesn’t rise to her baiting at the warning look from my father. In Ethereal laws, the being on trial is allowed to state their defense, and if they’re interrupted by the majors presiding over it, it could mean that they walk free. Helene knows exactly what she’s doing right now.
Her jaw ticks, her frustration at being thwarted shining through.
“I can get into specifics if you need to know, but we all know that the safety of a blood bonded relation is more than enough reason to act in the manner I did,” Helene implores, raising her chin defiantly as though she knows without a doubt that she’s about to get off.
“That may be so Helene, but there are rules that govern our society that even you can’t control,” my father says, not moved in the slightest by her argument. “Is that all?”
Helene’s brows knit together as she looks at each of the majors, her calculating eyes attempting to piece together what exactly they have planned. “Yes, that’s all.”
For the first time since I met the god of sea, she seems unsure and knocked off-kilter. Glad she finally gets to see how it feels.
“Let’s bring out our witness,” my father instructs, gesturing to the main doors of the auditorium.
On cue, they fly open revealing Phil. I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face at the sight of the god of weaponry, having missed him while he kept everything organized in Ethereal for my father.
He runs a hand over his ruddy-brown hair, a few strands noticeably falling from the nervous gesture. He must notice me in the front row since he gives me a little wave, as though he’s trying to be inconspicuous despite having the attention of the entire auditorium on him right now.
“Phil better not try to steal our girl,” Adrian whispers, his tone light, yet I can sense the threat in his words.
Nudging him lightly with my elbow, I roll my eyes, silently letting him know just how ridiculous he’s being. My focus shifts to the woman standing just behind Phil as she steps up beside him. He gestures her forward and she takes the lead, her long green velvet gown trailing on the floor behind her.
Her long black hair is curled neatly into a bun atop her head, but what really steals my attention is the raven perched on her shoulder, its eyes keenly assessing the room as though it’s her eyes and ears while she walks straight for the stage.
“Daphne,” Helene breathes, her hands jerking against her constraints as she tries to cover her mouth.
Daphne strides up to the stage and climbs the steps, little blue birds materializing out of thin air to lift the front of her dress just over her heels so she doesn’t trip on it. I scan her face as she comes to a stop at the podium, her features so much like Domenic’s. Pain slices through my chest at the reminder, but this is what we’re here for. That agony pulsing in my heart is a reminder of why I need to watch this woman get the punishment she deserves.
“Please, Daphne, tell us if Helene’s actions are within the blood rights,” my father prompts, letting Daphne have the floor.
Helene’s lips quirk as she watches her sister step forward, already predicting her response. I wait with bated breath as anxiety thrums through my body like electricity. When Linus’ spies finished off the rest of the demons on the other side of Romulus’ rift, they searched the dungeons, finding Daphne right where Octavia said she would be.
