Page 75 of Innocent Until Proven Witch

The formal tone makes my stomach twist. I stop before the council platform. The entire room seems to lean forward, waiting.

The chairman clears his throat. "The council has reviewed the recent evidence."

Immediately, murmurs ripple through the crowd. The jewelry. The cloak. The missing fishermen. Everything. The accusations continue piling higher.

The chairman raises a hand. The room settles. "Until these matters are resolved, certain measures must be taken."

I already know. Not the details. The outcome. The decision was made before I entered the room. This is simply the performance afterward.

The chairman continues. "Your access to storm magic will be restricted."

The words land heavily. The chamber erupts immediately. Some people cheer. Others sigh in relief. The reaction hurts more than the decision itself, because they're relieved. Relieved to see me weakened.

I remain silent. The chairman presses forward. "Additionally, you are suspended from lighthouse authority pending further review."

My breath catches. That one hurts. More than the magic, more than the accusations. The lighthouse isn't merely a job. It's home. Purpose. Responsibility. Legacy.

The room blurs briefly. I force myself to remain standing.

Finn immediately rises. The movement catches my attention. And everyone else's.

"That's insane."

His voice cuts through the room. The chairman frowns. "Sit down."

He doesn't. Several council members exchange irritated looks. The chairman tries again. "Mr. Blackwater."

"She guides ships through storms," Finn says sharply. "She maintains the wards." His gaze sweeps through the chamber. "Who's replacing her?"

Nobody answers, because nobody has an answer.

The chairman clears his throat. "The council has made its decision."

Finn's jaw tightens. I can practically feel his frustration through the bond.

Gideon finally speaks, his voice calm, measured. "The restriction is temporary."

Several residents immediately object. One fisherman jumps to his feet. "Temporary?"

Another woman rises beside him. "She should be exiled."

Agreement spreads quickly. The crowd grows louder, angrier. The word repeats throughout the chamber. Exile.

My stomach twists. The room feels suddenly smaller. Aldric remains silent, watching, always watching.

The shouting grows louder. Then Gideon stands. The movement alone quiets part of the room. Not all of it. Enough.

His expression hardens. "That's enough." The authority in his voice silences the remaining protests. Gideon scans the crowd. "The council has already issued punishment." The fisherman opens his mouth. Gideon cuts him off. "You asked for action." His gaze sweeps across the chamber. "You have it."

The room gradually settles. Not because they're satisfied. Because Gideon leaves little room for argument.

The quiet that follows feels exhausting. The chairman nods. "The ruling stands." Just like that. My future reduced to a few sentences.

The council begins moving on, discussing logistics, procedures, replacement schedules. As though I'm no longer standing there. As though I already stopped being a person.

I glance toward Finn. His expression alone tells me how badly he wants to argue. Part of me appreciates it. Another part is grateful he doesn't. Not here. Not now. Because nothing would change. The decision was made long before today.

I turn and walk away. Nobody stops me. Nobody calls after me. The crowd parts as I leave. Some people avoid my gaze. Others don't. The whispers begin again immediately.