“Your trial’s in four days,” Ben continued. “Quick proceedings for treason cases.”
“Treason?” I croaked.
“Selling Imperial secrets to pirates. Smuggling contraband. Conspiracy against the crown.” Ben ticked off the charges. “They found documents at your home residence. Correspondence with pirates, payment records. Damning stuff.”
He’d planted evidence. Eric had thought of everything.
“What’s the sentence for treason?”
Ben’s expression said it all. “Public execution. They’ll make an example of you.”
I closed my eyes, head falling back against the cold stone. So this was how it ended. Not in glorious battle, but as a traitor, a cautionary tale.
“I didn’t do it,” I said quietly.
Ben shifted uncomfortably. “They all say that.”
“I know.”
A silence fell, broken only by distant prison sounds—metal doors clanging, guards calling to one another.
“The ship,” I finally asked. “What happened toThe Valiant?”
“Crashed in the wastelands beyond the Crimson Isles. Nothing worth salvaging.”
And with it, any evidence that might have cleared my name. The journal documenting Eric’s activities, the cargo manifests I’d annotated—all gone.
“Your captain—” Ben began.
“He’s not my captain,” I cut him off.
“He visited yesterday while you were unconscious. Left this for you.” Ben produced a small object.
My silver ring. The one Eric had given me months ago, returned as a final mockery.
I took it, feeling its weight. Once, it had represented everything I thought we shared. Now it was just cold metal.
“Said it was yours,” Ben added. “That you’d want it back.”
I closed my fist around it, overcome with the urge to hurl it against the wall. Instead, I slipped it into my pocket.
“How did you end up here?” I asked. “Guarding traitors seems a poor assignment.”
Ben shrugged. “Family tradition. Not much choice in Embergate if you’re common-born. It’s serve the nobles or starve.”
“And how is that service treating you?”
“Better than most. Three meals a day, a roof overhead.” He lowered his voice. “Though between us, the nobles get fatter while we tighten our belts. My sister works in the fluxstone refineries. Twelve hours a day, barely enough pay for rent and food.”
I nodded, thinking of the slums I’d seen. Eric had been right about one thing—the system was broken. But his solution had been just as corrupt.
“But my sister says at least she wasn’t born a fluxweaver like her best childhood friend was,” Ben continued. “Plugged in like a sack of meat until you die? I’d throw myself into the mouth of a sea serpent before I’d let them do that to me.”
I hummed, suddenly feeling very tired.
“Of course, they say House Eldritch is the worst,” he added. “Begging your pardon, sir, since you served them. But the stories we hear—people work until they drop dead, bodies tossed out like garbage.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” I gestured to my missing leg. “Loyalty to Eldritch didn’t save me.”
