Page 195 of Maksym

A sound moved through the chamber.

Not quite a gasp. Not quite a growl. Many species had ways of responding to an indefensible thing before their politics remembered itself.

Grace’s hand rested lightly on the lectern.

“Did Madelyn cry out after being struck?”

“Yes.”

“Was Madelyn crying to be released?”

“Yes.”

“Did she renounce Nikolay?”

“No.”

“Did she call for Sage?”

“No.”

“Once again, whose name did she call?”

“Nikolay.”

“Why didn’t you run to her?”

“Guards grabbed me, then took me to my room and locked me there. I wasn’t freed until after Sage was dead.”

Sloan turned fully toward Maddie then, breaking the clean line of examination, breaking the invisible rule that witnesses speak to counsel and Council, not to the person they harmed.

“I would have stopped him,” she said.

Her voice fractured on every word.

Maddie lifted her head.

Sloan’s face was wet now, ruined by tears she seemed too tired to wipe away.

“I swear to you, Maddie. I didn’t know. I didn’t know he was going to do that. I would have stopped him.”

The prosecution erupted.

“Objection. Move to strike. Nonresponsive, improper address to—”

The Magistrate’s staff struck stone once.

“Enough.”

The word silenced him more effectively than any shout would have.

Grace did not look triumphant. She did not look moved, though I knew she was. I could feel the bond between us, taut and bright, carrying fury, control, sorrow, and the terrible satisfaction of a truth finally spoken where it could not be buried quietly.

She turned to face the Magistrate.

Her voice was level.

“No further questions.”