I clutch Julian’s arm, feeling faint again, but I don’t dare look in Medea’s direction. I can’t risk what my anger will summon.
Terrance sniffs in annoyance. “The ring is not evidence of her involvement when there is no witness testimony, and Medea fervently denies having it in her possession. Tullanium is simply not the place for a senator awaiting trial. We, of course, can have her post a substantial bond, but we should believe the word of our colleague. Do you agree, Paolo?”
I stare at Senator Paolo. Reasonable and part of the new guard, he should agree with Foreau. But Paolo is focused on his ring, avoiding eye contact.
“Agreed,” he says.
“On a three-to-one basis, Medea shall post a five-thousand-gold-bullion bond and will be remanded to her villa in the capital following our departure from Jubilee,” Terrance says. “She is to remain there until the Verity Guild tribunal convenes following the trial of Trajan Lowe. That brings all matters to a close for this conclave.”
I step into the throne room. “Just a moment, Senator. Sentry Calais murdered my servant in cold blood.” All eyes turn to me, including Torren’s. “I want his memory and his name stricken.”
No one speaks. Fear emanates from the Council—as well it should.
“He, of course, committed a great offense to you, Excellency,” Suh says, bowing his head. “But the murder of a servant does not warrant striking a memory and removing nobility from a bloodline.”
“I can’t think of something that is less noble than molesting and murdering a defenseless girl,” I say. “I’m sure Senator Eyo would’ve agreed.”
Suh flushes, and Paolo shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
“Although this is not proper procedure for a complaint of this nature, I see no objection to compensating you for your loss,” Terrance says.
“Compensation?” I repeat.
Terrance nods vigorously, though his white hair doesn’t move. “I believe the sum of twenty gold bullions will be an adequate recovery for your servant’s services.”
Her services.
If I hadn’t killed Calais, that is all he would have had to pay for murdering Zel in front of me. Her death is considered an offense to property because he was noble and she was part of the servant class.
Twenty gold pieces for the life of a fourteen-year-old girl. That is all she was worth to them.
I should’ve brought the ceiling down.
I curl my hand, my bandage tight around my wrist. Rage bubbles inside me and, with it, a hunger for pain, for blood. This Council should not exist. But I catch Torren shaking his head slightly. I have to remain calm, because that is what is expected of me, but more so this connection to death is now stronger than it ever has been. I need to stay controlled and concealed. I’ve known that my entire life, but I lost control at Jubilee.
“Of course,” I say. “That is more than adequate.”
Terrance and Suh stand, but I catch the stare of Medea. Torren is placing handcuffs on her, yet from the gleam in her eye, you’d think she won.
LX.
Kerasea
My carriage rolls through the city gates of the capital, past the gentle splendor of the Southside villas. I’m seated alone as I return home. Mirial is dead. Zel is dead. And a coin purse sits on the bench next to me. I wrinkle my nose in disgust and push the velvet bag farther away.
Senator Terrance’s page handed me twenty gold bullions before we left Jubilee. Zel will never fall in love, never have children of her own, never see fifteen. But this is considered just compensation.
Her murdered body is tied to the back of this carriage, wrapped in my ruined robe. Later tonight, I will burn her and say my goodbyes to the girl who squeezed my hand when I was being lectured, who quietly fixed my makeup to hide my sleeplessness. Meanwhile, Medea is in her villa atop one of the hills in the capital. A viper back in her spacious burrow.
A scream builds in my throat from the unfairness of it all, but I exhale. She will stand trial. Torren and I will be able to convict her. There will finally be a type of justice.
The carriage rolls to a stop in front of the temple of truth. I take a deep breath, sitting back in my seat. I don the placid mask of High Priestess. Not only will I have to pretend as per usual, I will now have to tell Zel’s parents that they lost their eldest daughter, as well as inform the priests and acolytes that Mirial was murdered. I have been dreading this moment since I left Mount Ara, but it is time. This is my duty. They all deserve to hear the truth from me—especially Zel’s parents.
I step out of the carriage and climb the stairs of the temple. As the sun hits the horizon, I turn and look at the Forum. The Senate Hall is aglow in the dying light of the setting sun. They say the Elusians were corrupt and immoral, oppressive and unjust. I’m not sure how they were worse than the Council, though.
As I pass through the bronze temple doors, I enter the familiar embrace of home. I inhale the eucalyptus scent as the priests, acolytes, and servants stand in the Great Hall waiting to greet me. The braziers are lit, clearly illuminating all the familiar faces.
I bless each person by name, but I stop in front of Zel’s parents.
