Page 8 of Glass


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When he’s finished with his little show, he sits back, keeping Ella’s hand clasped in his. “Anastasia Cooper.”

I steel myself.

“You have been brought before the Royal Court to answer to the modern slavery charges levelled against you. This court states that over a period of four years, you and your mother, Angelica Cooper – now deceased - held Ella Cooper against her will and forced her to act as an indentured servant, without pay.”

The crowd murmurs in disgust.

“You stole her identity documentation and used intimidation and threats to keep her in your home, where you benefitted from her unpaid labor. The court also ascertains that you assaulted Ella Cooper on several occasions, resulting in her fearing for her life. You forced her to sleep on a stone floor and withheld food as a punishment on frequent occasions.”

Crispin frowns. “Your ruse was only discovered upon the death of your mother, whereupon Ella was able to escape fromyour home and seek refuge under the protection of the royal family.”

I lick my dry lips. “I—,”

“You have not been given permission to speak.”

The prince is enjoying this show. He straightens more with every sentence, every inch the golden knight fighting for his princess. Ella watches him with adoration, even as she casts small, sad glances my way.

He taps the fingers of his hand against the armrest of the throne he sits in. “This case involves the Royal family. Therefore, we have the right to intercede and enforce punishment, as per the laws of Sorelle. I will be announcing your sentence today.”

I feel cold. “But—,”

“Silence,” he hisses. “In the interest of fairness, the court searched for a character witness to stand for you. We found no-one. Your sister has already given evidence, which has been accepted by this court. Anastasia Cooper, you have been judged. And this court finds you guilty.”

I didn’t expect anything less. Certainly not a fair hearing. But the fucking injusticeburns. “May I at least speak in my own defense?”

“You already have,” he says tightly. “We have the statements you provided upon your arrest. Your story has been proven false. There is no evidence to support your fanciful accusations. I have no wish to subject my fiancée to hearing them again.”

No evidence. Nothing, not even a scrap to support my version of events. My deceitful little stepsister wasverythorough in her plan.

“Before I pass down your sentence,” Crispin continues. “I will give youoneopportunity. And you only have this because of the kindness of the woman sitting next to me. Take it, and I may consider a lighter sentence.”

Ella leans forward, offering me a wobbly smile. Her eyes are shiny, gleaming with unshed tears.

Well, this should be good.

“Anastasia,” she breathes. “We are sisters. To see you here brings me no pleasure.”

Liar.

“All I want,” she says tearfully, “is an apology, Stasi. Admit what you’ve done and apologize. I beg you to do this for me. And for yourself.Please.”

Whispers sweep the room. Admiring whispers. Howkindmy sister is, to offer me this. After everything I’ve done.

The injustice sticks in my throat, drying it, even as we watch each other.

“You have one chance.” Prince Crispin’s voice is hard. “I suggest you do not waste it.”

Wetting my lips, I open my mouth. Ella watches me avidly, her eyes gleaming with something more than tears. Satisfaction.

He’s right. And I have no intention of wasting it.

“I…,” my voice cracks as she leans forward, her head tilting to the side. I cough, trying to clear my throat enough for them to hear me.

For everyone in the room to hear me as I lift my head up.

“I’m sorry,” I say slowly. Truthfully.

Ella’s eyes light up.