“You abandoned a major client to be here.” Marchosias turned his full attention to Lilith. “For this case. This human. This noodle shop in Queens.”
The gallery was watching now. Not Ava; Lilith. The whispers had changed direction.
“Your Grace, my personal interest doesn’t invalidate the contracts…”
“No.” Marchosias raised one massive hand. “But it raises questions. Questions I want answered.” His scattered eyes fixed on Ava. “Continue.”
Ava felt the shift. Not victory, not yet, but an opening.
“The contracts Lilith created weren’t designed to collect a legitimate debt. They were designed to trap my family. To give her leverage over anyone Victor might care about.” She pulled out the final piece of evidence: the contract analysis Derek had compiled, showing the pattern of escalating terms, the impossible payment schedules, the clauses that ensured default. “Look at the structure. Every contract was designed to fail. To compound. To grow until the debt was unpayable.”
She handed the documents to a court functionary, who carried them to Marchosias. The Duke examined them with multiple eyes, pages turning under his massive fingers.
“Predatory,” he said finally. “Designed for default, not collection.”
“Exactly. Because Lilith didn’t want payment. She wanted my family destroyed. She wanted me broken before I ever met Victor.” Ava’s voice hardened. “And she did all of it in your name. With your seal. Using your reputation to legitimize a fifteen-year vendetta against a family that never did anything to her.”
Marchosias set down the documents. His gaze swept the gallery, then fixed on Lilith.
“Ms. Ashwood. You will explain yourself.”
Lilith’s composure cracked. “Your Grace, the contracts are legal. Whatever my motivations…”
“Your motivations are the issue.” Marchosias rose from his throne. Twenty feet of turquoise hide unfolding, the golden sword scraping against stone as he stood. “You used my name. My authority. My reputation. For what? Because Victor Morningstar rejected you centuries ago?”
“She was going to take him from me.” The words burst out of Lilith before she could stop them. “The signs were clear. A human woman born in Queens, bound to a Morningstar. I saw the readings myself. I had to stop it before?—”
“Before what?” Marchosias descended the dais. Each step shook the floor. “Before he fell in love? Before he chose someone else?” He stopped in front of Lilith’s platform, towering over her. “You conducted a fifteen-year campaign of harassment against a human family because you couldn’t accept that someone didn’t want you.”
Lilith had no answer.
“And you did it in my name.” His voice dropped to something quiet and dangerous. “Made me complicit. Made every demon in this court believe I sanctioned this petty cruelty.” He turned to the gallery. “What must you all think? That Marchosias, Duke of Contracts, Lord of Fair Dealing, spends his authority helping scorned women punish their romantic rivals?”
The gallery shifted uncomfortably. No one spoke.
Marchosias turned back to Ava. The chains on her skin pulsed: his claim, his property, his to accept or reject.
“You’ve made your case.” His voice had gone dispassionate. Judicial. “Lilith acted from personal motivation. The contracts were designed to fail. My name was used without my knowledge for purposes I would not have sanctioned.”
Ava allowed herself to breathe.
“But none of that changes what you did.” Marchosias’s scattered eyes fixed on her. “You performed the Right of Substitution. You spoke the words freely. You bound yourself to me with full knowledge of the consequences.”
The breath caught in her throat.
“The law is clear.” Marchosias’s voice had gone flat. Final. “A willing substitution cannot be voided simply because the original debt was flawed. You chose this. Whatever Lilith’s motivations, whatever fraud underlies the contracts, you still stood in a circle and offered yourself to me. That act was yours alone.”
The chains blazed brighter. The pull behind her sternum doubled, then tripled. Marchosias’s claim tightening like a fist.
“Your Grace—” Her voice cracked. “The entire debt was manufactured. Every contract was designed to trap my family. How can you accept a soul that comes to you through…”
“Through proper ritual.” Marchosias cut her off. “The method of your binding was flawless. The intent was clear. The words were spoken freely.” A murmur rippled through the gallery. “I have ruled on thousands of substitutions. Do you know how many were performed for debts that were, in some way, unjust? All of them. Every soul that stands where you’re standing believes their situation was unfair. Believes they were tricked. Believes they deserve freedom.”
He leaned forward.
“What makes you different?”
Ava’s mind raced. She’d prepared arguments about fraud, about misrepresentation, about Lilith’s vendetta. But Marchosias wasn’t disputing any of that. He was asking something else entirely.
