Page 191 of Maksym

“But you knew it was there.”

“Yes.”

“Before she drank it.”

Sloan shut her eyes.

The truth spell pressed.

“Yes.”

A low sound came from somewhere in the back of the gallery. Bronc, perhaps. Or one of Iron Valor. The kind of sound a wolf made when language stood between him and violence by a thread.

Grace did not look back.

“Why did you not warn her?”

Sloan opened her eyes. The tears came now, steady and unwanted.

“I thought it would help.”

The prosecution counsel made an exasperated sound. “Honored Magistrate—”

“Sit down,” the Magistrate said.

The words were not loud. They were final.

The counsel sat.

Grace waited until the chamber had quieted again.

“Help whom?” she asked.

Sloan’s mouth trembled. “Maddie.”

“How?”

“I thought if she relaxed, she’d listen. Really listen. She was angry and hurt all the time when we talked about Nikolay. I thought she was clinging to him because of the bond, not because he was good for her.”

“And you believed a drug would help her make a better decision?”

Sloan flinched. “I didn’t think of it as a drug.”

“What did you think of it as?”

“A relaxant. Something ceremonial. I thought—” Her voice broke, then steadied badly. “I thought she would be happier with her own kind.”

Grace’s eyes did not soften. “You believed that strongly enough to allow her consent to be impaired.”

The word consent changed the chamber. It often did.

Sloan looked at Maddie then. This time Maddie looked back.

“Yes,” Sloan whispered.

“Say it clearly.”

Sloan’s shoulders shook once. “Yes. I allowed her consent to be impaired.”