"Silent unless spoken to," she warned.
Dorian grumbled and pressed the ash on his fingers back down, unwilling to let that form come to the surface.
Not yet.
Marius adjusted his shirt with force. "You are a Prince of Promise. A member of the Bedrani Council that condemned our King and ally—“
"I amnota member of that idiotic Council," Dorian seethed.
Katla's weapon came down on him again, and Dorian's grunt was audible this time. His jaw clenched, teeth trembling against one another with the weight of keeping his fire down. He stumbled to catch himself and once more forced his knees straight.
"You saidunless spoken to," he cut back to her. "He spoke to me."
"Would you like another strike?" she asked.
"It’s always been my favorite foreplay."
The strike hit the bend in his left knee, and his leg finally buckled. A groaning huff emitted from him as the searing pain debilitated his leg.
Dorian inhaled sharply and used that pain as fuel.
He pushed his good leg into the ground and straightened back to his feet, chin rising even higher than it had been before. The world vibrated before him, and he tightened his fists to stifle his form.
Marius began walking around him. "Regardless of your involvement with that Council, you were in the room when the sentence was given. And you stood by to watch—“
Dorian shut his eyes as he waited for the words he knew might send him spiraling.
“—You, the Fire Prince, self-proclaimedfriendof the Venari, watched as your sister, whom you also claim to have loved, was burned alive. You watched silently as our King threw himself from a window of your beloved castle. And you didnothing." Marius stopped in front of him. "Tell me why we should not have Katharos slicing your throat."
The pain of his leg shot up through his body. Rage poured through his muscles with it. Shaking, Dorian opened his eyes, not even sure if his mouth was moving but hearing words from his lips nonetheless.
"Because I was the one who brought him the horn so he could take Magnice down with him," Dorian said slowly. "I was the last of his friends to see him alive."
The room began to murmur again.
"Should you think this changes our opinion of you?" Katla asked. "Last person to see him alive… Perhaps we should be charging you with murder instead of conspiracy and treason."
Dorian turned slowly, heart stilling in his chest. "Draven knew what he was doing," he glared. "He'd known it would come to that point for months. My only regret is that I did not help him burn it to the ground."
"Why would theVenari Kingsacrifice his life for—“
"That's enough, Katharos,” Hagen cut in, standing.
But Dorian wanted to hear it.
"No," Dorian interjected, and Hagen paused in his step. The world vibrated once more in Dorian's gaze when he looked back to Katla. "Let her continue." He stepped forward, the noise of his boots sounding like an echo on the marble. He allowed the stretch of his form up his arms, the faint glow of darkness settling on his neck.
And the words seethed from his lips in a tone he didn't recognize.
"Why would the Venari King sacrifice his life forwhat?"
Weights shifted around the room.
The ropes on his wrists turned to ash as he stepped before her. Swords drew. But Dorian didn't back down. The stretch of his stiffened back and rounded shoulders were as strong and affirmed as he'd ever felt. A reassurance of his form. And he let his body settle into it.
"Say it," Dorian demanded.
The room flinched. All looked to Hagen for the order to strike.
