He wore formal black, his face composed, his movements controlled. He did not cross to Sabine. He did not touch her. He simply positioned himself between her chair and the dais with the precision of someone placing a blade.
“High Hierophant,” he said calmly. “I was not informed this review required my presence. Given that selection rights attach my name to Lady Sabine’s trial record, I should have been notified.”
Serast inclined his head fractionally. “This is temple review of ritual irregularities, not crown business.”
“The Blackwater Trial was completed under full witness protocol. Mistress Halvine recorded the passage. I claimed inspection rights over the retrieved objects as is my legal privilege. Any challenge now implies fault in temple procedure, not in my chosen bride.”
The phrasing was perfect.
Lucien had given Serast two choices: accept that the trial was valid, or admit the temple’s own procedures were flawed.
Sabine watched him and understood what the restraint cost. He wanted to cross the room. The bond was pulling at him. But he stood perfectly still and played the political game better than the priests.
Serast’s expression did not change. “We are simply clarifying details for the sacred record.”
“Then clarify quickly. Lady Sabine has answered your questions. The trial stands as recorded.” Lucien’s gaze moved toMaelor. “And Bloodwright, if you wish to inspect the bond again, you will do so with my presence and formal consent. Not during interrogation designed to find instability where devotion exists.”
Maelor smiled faintly. “Of course, Your Highness.”
Serast rose. “The review is complete. For now. Lady Sabine, you are to remain available for further inquiry should the temple require it. Do not leave palace grounds. Do not interfere with sacred materials. And do not mistake survival for vindication.”
He left with Maelor and Halvine following.
The crown clerk gathered his notes and departed.
Sabine and Lucien stood alone in the cold stone hall.
She met his eyes.
He gave her one short nod.
She still had the music. He understood.
Then he turned and left before anyone watching could see how badly he wanted to stay.
The letter was waiting on Sabine’s desk when she returned.
Opened. Reviewed. Marked with a crown clerk’s notation.
The handwriting was Cassian’s.
Sabine broke the outer seal and read.
Sabine,
I hope this letter finds you well and that the Trials are proceeding favorably.
Mother says the chapel candles smoke badly now. We have closed the music room to save on coal. Junor says not to worry because worrying is expensive and we have spent enough already.
A crown representative arrived last week to review the estate accounts. He asked whether your status in the Trials had changed. I told him no because I did not know what else to say. He left papers with the steward. I have enclosed the summary.
Write when you can. Or do not write. Either way, we are thinking of you.
Cassian
Sabine unfolded the enclosed document.
Crown letterhead. Legal language. One paragraph that mattered:
